The Highlander's Christmas Countess (The Lairds Most Likely 8)

Another of those speaking looks between his aunt and uncle. “Kit has it all in hand,” Hamish said with a hint of disapproval.

“No doubt,” Quentin said and strode up the hill to Kit and the two children.

“It’s my turn now,” Andy was saying, as dictatorial as any princess. “You have to wait, William.”

“Now, Miss Andy, there’s nae need to rub it in,” Kit said, a gurgle of laughter adding a rich edge of warmth to the gentle reprimand.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Quentin said, with a shaming hint of breathlessness. That hill was deuced steep. It was a lot easier coming down it on a sled than climbing it on two legs. “I’ll take William.”

“Oh, Cousin Quentin, yes, please, yes, please!” the child shr

ieked, jumping up and down with excitement.

Two large bluebell-colored eyes surrounded by thick black lashes fixed on Quentin with a hint of wariness. The cold weather had put pink in Kit’s cheeks. He was a delicate-looking creature to be working somewhere as rough-and-tumble as the stables. This close, Quentin could see that the body under all that heavy clothing was slight.

“Aye, sir.” Kit bowed, before sidling away. “He’ll love that.”

Quentin had already noticed that the lad was painfully shy and inclined to avoid company other than the children. A few times, he’d set out to talk to Kit, only to turn around and find the lad had scarpered out of sight.

He waved a hand through the air. “No, stay.”

“Aye, sir.” But reluctance weighted the obedience, Quentin could hear.

He held that bright blue gaze until the pink in the stable lad’s cheeks turned vivid. The boy’s glance flickered away, and he seemed flustered as he placed Andy on the sled and positioned himself behind the little girl.

“Let’s go,” Andy commanded.

“Aye,” Kit said, the husky tone sending a jolt of awareness through Quentin. His hands closed into fists at his sides, and his nostrils flared. He knew now how a hound felt when it scented a fox.

William tugged at his sleeve, and he started as if he woke from a dream. “Cousin Quentin, can we go, too?”

“Aye.” He looked down at the little boy and smiled. “I’ll just give Kit and Andy a push.”

“Nae need, sir,” the stable lad said, then released a surprised “Oh!” as Quentin ignored that and the sled began to slide downward.

The sledding went on until the short day drew to a close. As the hours passed, the stableboy’s nervousness faded, Quentin noticed. But then, after asking Kit to stay, he’d done his best to conceal his avid curiosity. He also noted that as far as possible in the circumstances, which wasn’t very far at all, the lad kept his distance and ducked his head to avoid any searching looks.

Eventually William tired, but Andy remained as greedy for thrills as ever. “Just one more time, Kit. Please.”

“Kit’s done enough,” Emily said. She’d climbed the hill to gather her offspring and usher them down to the cart for the ride home.

“I’m sure I can manage one more, my lady,” the boy said.

“She’ll keep you here all night if she can,” Quentin said.

“Aye, sir,” the boy said, sticking to the monosyllabic responses he’d supplied most of the afternoon.

“Please, Mamma, just one more,” Andy wheedled.

Emily gave a longsuffering sigh. “You’re a little horror, Andromeda Mary Douglas.”

“Och, the lassie just has high spirits,” Kit said.

“Doesn’t she just?” Emily cast the stableboy a laughing glance. “Are you up for one more go, Kit? You’ve been marvelous with them, but you’ve done more than your share.”

“Aye, my lady.”

“Goody,” Andy said, plopping herself down on the sled with a smug expression.