“We’ve been talking. Last night. This morning. Now.” He filled Perseus’s manger and patted the glossy bay neck again as the horse buried his nose in the oats. “It hasnae done me a wee ounce of good.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she said softly.
This time, something in her tone pierced his thick veil of unhappiness, and he did at last give her his full attention. By God, looking at her hurt. It hurt like hell. It was a bitter reminder of everything he wanted but would never have.
“I told ye I loved you.” He cursed the hint of surliness in his voice.
“Yes, you did.” He couldn’t read her expression, but her stance hinted that she was torn between running, or staying to battle it out. At least she wasn’t looking quite so much like William Wallace addressing his troops before they mounted a raid on the invading Sassenachs.
One thing was certain. She didn’t look like a girl who had discovered that her love was returned.
She bit her lip. “Did you mean it?”
Brody stifled an angry response. After all, his bad reputation with the lassies was nobody’s fault but his own. She had no particular reason to trust him, even if he wished to Hades she did. “Aye.”
Something changed in her brown eyes, although her expression remained wary. So he was surprised when she reached out to take his hand. Wee Elspeth never initiated contact, although when he held her in his arms, she followed his lead with breathtaking alacrity.
Her touch shuddered through him like a gunshot, jolting his aching heart into an unsteady jog. Being with her when she didn’t love him was excruciating. He began to wish he’d ignored her and headed out into the snow when he had the chance.
“Come over here and talk to me,” she murmured. “I’m sick of fighting Perseus for your attention.”
“You’re playing with fire, lassie.” His lips flattened, although he didn’t try to pull away. Pride told him to send her to the devil, but he didn’t listen to it. This might be the last time Elspeth held his hand. He’d be damned if he cut the contact short. “I’m an inch away from flinging ye over my saddle and kidnapping you away to Invermackie.”
He’d expected that to spark outrage, but to his surprise, she laughed. At the sweet sound, the turmoil in his soul eased to a mere storm, instead of a hurricane that promised to devastate everything within reach. “I might like that.”
What on earth? That almost sounded promising. “Would ye?” he asked on a skeptical note.
She squeezed his fingers. “Perhaps you can try it, after I’ve talked to you.”
The last twenty-four hours had left Brody too battered for optimism, but nonetheless, a cautious hope began to sprout inside him. That tentative hope and his curiosity kept him cooperative as she led him across to a bale of hay in an alcove near the tack room.
Elspeth sat and drew him down beside her. He hardly dared speak for fear that this fragile truce might shatter.
How the mighty had fallen. Before he fell in love with Elspeth, he’d never been uncertain with the lassies. But then, no other woman had mattered to him the way his wee wren did. One false move, and she’d flutter away forever.
For the first time since that fraught scene in the library, he started to wonder if the situation was as irreparable as he’d believed. By now, he’d expected to be well on the way across the hills, cold outside and in. A broken heart chilled a man’s blood. Yet he was still here, because she’d asked him not to go. Now she held his hand in her lap and idly played with it as if she had every right to touch him.
At the other end of the stables, Jock whistled as he worked, while this hidden corner offered a haven of privacy. On most days, the stables bustled with activity, but on this snowy Christmas Eve, his cousin had given the grooms a holiday.
Brody waited for her to make good on her promise to talk to him, but she seemed content to sit near him and hold his hand. The suspense reached such a pitch, he could no longer stay silent. “Elspeth lassie, if you’ve brought me here just to let me down again, I’d rather be out in the snow with only the wind for company.”
She stared down at his hand in hers, her expression pensive. With painful longing, his gaze fixed on her delicate profile. How bonny she was. The bonniest girl he’d ever seen. He must have been blind not to see that Hamish’s quiet wee sister was a jewel awaiting discovery.
“I need to make a confession,” she said softly.
“Oh?”
“More an explanation, than a confession.” Still she didn’t look at him, although she licked her lips, betraying her uncertainty.
He bit back a groan. What he wanted to do was seize her in his arms, and kiss her into a swoon. Then he’d tell her to stop tormenting him and admit she was his.
A week ago, even yesterday, he might have swept aside her hesitation and done just that. But he’d learned a lot about her—and himself—since last night’s row in the library. A show of passion might sway Elspeth into temporary surrender, but if he wanted lasting capitulation, he needed to step back and let her come to him on her own terms.
Brody wasn’t by nature a patient man, but for Elspeth, he could wait. Hell, now she’d given him a glimmer of hope, when all hope had been dead, he’d wait until Doomsday if he had to.
When he didn’t say anything, she went on in a low, steady voice. “It’s about a very silly fifteen-year-old girl, who set her sights on an unattainable young man.”
“Not that unattainable,” he couldn’t help saying.
He received an admonitory glance for his trouble. “Please don’t interrupt.”
Brody hid a smile. Which was surprising, too. When he’d saddled Perseus, he’d been convinced he’d never smile again. “I beg your pardon, my liege.”
“Granted.” Her lips twitched.
“Go on with your story.” He hoped to God that it didn’t end with the silly girl growing up and deciding that her interest in the young man was nothing more than a childish infatuation.
“This silly girl pined in vain, because it was clear that she was never going to attract the young man’s eye.” She gave him another quelling glance when he shifted in protest. “She was shy and bookish and frumpy, and nobody saw her as special, not even her family. The young man never noticed her, or how much she was in love with him.”
The word “love” snagged on his heart like a fish hook. “Elspeth—”
“He wasn’t to blame.” She pressed on before he could set her right on that unflattering description. “The girl was so tongue-tied in his presence, that she could hardly force out a word.”
“She’s fixed that particular problem,” Brody couldn’t help pointing out.
“She has.” She cradled his hand in hers with a tenderness that he prayed wasn’t the prelude to a final farewell. “For five years, the girl yearned after the boy in silence, living for the few occasions when she saw him. While the boy grew handsomer and handsomer and spread his charm far and wide.”
Aye, he’d done that, all right. To his shame. Discomfort made him shift again, but this time, he was smart enough not to speak.
“He spent his time chasing beautiful girls from all over Scotland, and didn’t spare a moment’s attention for the girl who loved him best of all.”
This was sounding better and better. His heart leaped into life.
“Then just before Christmas the year she turned twenty, the girl saw the error of her ways. Her handsome laddie was never going to love her. The truth was inescapable. She could wallow in impossible dreams that made her miserable, or she could be sensible and stop loving him.”
“Blast you, Elspeth,” he growled, ripping his hand from hers and staring at her in consternation. “Are ye putting me through all this just to refuse me again?”
At last, she turned to face him, her rich brown eyes searching. “I haven’t reached the end of the story.”
“I’m no’ liking the direction it’s taking.”
“Stay with me, Brody.” Her eyelashes fluttered down again. “From now o
n, the handsome laird would be nothing more to her than her brother’s friend. She made a vow that she’d no longer yearn from the shadows.”
“Deuced good thing ye did,” he said grumpily. “Talking to me was a great way to catch my notice.”
Wry amusement deepened the corners of her lips. “She’d decided she no longer wanted the young man to notice her. Remember—she’d renounced her love.”
He gave an impatient sigh. “The young man did notice ye.”
“Yes, he did.” She kept staring down into her lap. “But by this stage, the girl looked rather different, thanks to a clever friend. When the young man wanted to flirt with her, she was flattered enough to succumb to a few kisses. Especially now she was immune to any deeper feelings.”
“For pity’s sake, Elspeth…”
At her raised hand, he fell silent once more. “After he’d ignored her all those years, she wanted to see how it felt when a rake pursued her.”
“What was it like?”
“Oh, it was wonderful.” This time she did look at him, and the melting expression in her coffee-colored eyes revived the hope that withered when she said she renounced her love. “He was a very good kisser, and he made her laugh. She felt like such an attractive, sophisticated lassie, to have this wild boy in her thrall, just for her own pleasure and not with any view to forever.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Elspeth ignored that. “However, this delightful interlude came to a nasty end when their harmless flirtation became public knowledge.”
“Nasty?” Every muscle in his body tensed. She’d used the word before. He hadn’t liked it then. He didn’t like it now. “You mean my proposal?”
“Yes,” she said, taking his hand again. If she damn well meant to send him on his way, she shouldn’t touch him. But he couldn’t resist curling his fingers around hers. “The rake turned out to be a man of honor, and he asked the shy girl to marry him because he thought he’d compromised her reputation.”
“And she told him no.” That wound still ached.
“She couldn’t see why a little Christmas cheer should decide their whole future.”
“It decided mine,” he said flatly.
She squeezed his hand. “She knew the young man had singled her out because she was the lone unattached lady in the party, and even then, only because her clever friend had changed the way she looked.”
He shot her a furious look. “You must ken that’s not true.”
“I do now.”
“Elspeth—”
“Please let me finish.”
“Very well.” He clung to her hand the way a drowning man clutched at a piece of driftwood, trying to snatch one more breath before he went under.
In the distance, he heard Jock lead Fergus’s horse out to the yard. He and Elspeth were now alone in the vast stables, with only equine witnesses to whether the next few minutes ended in heartbreak, or life with the woman he loved.
“It was even worse than that.” For the first time, her steady calmness faltered.
“How could it be worse?” he muttered.
Her mouth turned down. “It was worse because the girl had been lying to herself the whole time.”
“Had she?”
“Yes. It turned out love isn’t that easy to banish, after all.”
“It’s not?” His pulse starting to race, he sat up straight and stared into her face.
She shook her head. “No. She’d told herself that what she felt for the handsome lad was puppy love.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. Our heroine was really in love.”
Elspeth loved him? Was that what she was saying? She was going about all this in such a roundabout way, he still wasn’t sure.
“Mo chridhe…” He reached for her, but she released his hand and stood up.
“Brody, I need to tell you this.” She held her hand out in appeal. “You asked me last night why I said no to your proposal.”
The temptation to catch her up against him was nigh overwhelming. He lowered his arms and forced himself to stay patient. After all they’d been through, he knew better than to bully her into doing what he wanted. Even with kisses. And she still hadn’t said the words he ached to hear, however close she verged to them.
“So why the devil did you refuse me?” Her story left him more baffled than he’d been before he’d heard it. “Seems a boneheaded thing to do, if I want you and you want me.”
“I thought you were only indulging in some idle amusement, before you go back to your usual entertainments.”
He surveyed her with incredulous disfavor. “Because I can’t resist my habit of flirting, even for a couple of days, and ye were the only candidate? Although you dinnae meet my usual standards, I was so desperate, I’d have to make do?”
She winced at his sarcasm, and a pretty flush colored her cheeks. “It sounds absurd when you say it like that.”
“Aye, it sounds absurd, because it is.” He sighed and stretched his legs out across the wooden floor. “And to think everyone tells me you’re clever.”
Her gaze dug down into his soul. Before he fell in love with Elspeth, he’d never given his soul much thought. Now he hoped to hell that she didn’t find it as wanting as he feared.
“Brody, I’m not clever about you,” she said in a muted voice. “I never have been. I’m sorry I was so mean to you at breakfast.”
He hid a shudder. “You werenae too bad—if ye wanted a man to leave you in a rush to cut his throat.”
She grimaced and took a step closer. “I didn’t know you cared then.”
“I care,” he said in a low voice. “More than I’ve ever cared for anything in my worthless, self-indulgent life.”
She studied him, as if she discerned hidden depths in him nobody else ever had. “Hamish says you cared before Marina made me look pretty.”
“Good God, Elspeth, is that what all this is about? I told you—you were bonny, even before ye spruced yourself up.”
She touched her severe hair. “Didn’t you like it?”
An unamused huff of laughter escaped him. “Only because the rest of the world saw you, too. I didn’t need the competition.”
The tension leached from her expression, and warmth softened her brown eyes. She sat beside him again and took his hand. “Oh, Brody, that’s lovely.”
He stared at her in frustration. She’d held him off long enough. Especially now he was sure—or almost—that she loved him. “It would be even lovelier if you put me out of my misery and tell me you love me.”
She looked startled. “But I did.”
“Only in passing, and only in terms that made you sound ashamed of how you feel.”
She raised his hand and kissed his knuckles. The brief touch of her lips shuddered through him and made his heart crash against his ribs in a tempest of longing. “I love you, Brody.”
He’d pretty much bullied her into saying it, but the words he’d ached to hear carved an Elspeth-shaped hole inside him. “You do?”
“I’ve always loved you.” Her smile was shaky, and she stared into his eyes with a shy sincerity that reminded him of the girl he’d first met. “The miracle is that I think you might just love me back.”
The weight of failure and misery that had dogged him all day began to lift. He stood and drew her up to face him. “If ye think anything else, you’re not the canny lassie I credit you to be.”
Those large, glowing eyes examined his face, and for the first time, he read the light as love. At last, invincible hope unfurled inside him like a banner of victory. “I haven’t felt too canny over the last few days.”
Brody tightened his grip on her hand and angled in to kiss her. When her lips fluttered against his, he restrained the urge to deepen the kiss. They’d always had desire, but right now, words alone had the power to bring them together. As he drew away, she made a faint sound of complaint.
“I love you, lassie,” he murmured.
The first time he’d told
her, she hadn’t believed him, not really. With every repetition, he saw acceptance seep into her skin, settle in her bones, claim a place in her valiant heart. By the time they’d spent fifty years together and he’d told her ten thousand times, his love would be an indelible part of her.
“I love you, Brody,” she replied, with a tender fervor that banished the last of his unhappiness. Not just over the last few days, but the difficult months before. He knew now he’d been restless for a good reason. He’d outgrown the pursuits of his youth, and had started to seek a lifelong purpose.
In Elspeth, he’d found that purpose. Gratitude turned his tone reverent. “How I’ve longed to hear ye say that.”
A faint frown crossed her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you loved me last night?”
He grimaced. “In front of that crowd—and with ye looking like your world had ended?”
“My world had ended.” Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I’d just realized that I was still in love with a man who would never care for me, yet who felt honor-bound to shackle us together for life. I couldn’t imagine a surer recipe for a wretched future.”
“Is that still how ye feel?”
The smile changed, became a sensual invitation. “If you kiss me again, I might answer that.”
He smiled back. “Not yet, mo chridhe. I intend to do things right this time around. On the previous occasion when I tried this, I made an utter shambles of it.” He dropped to one knee on the wooden floor beneath him.
“Brody…” she whispered, clutching at his hand. Her eyes rounded, and color tinged her slanted cheekbones as she stared down at him.
He struggled to shift the emotion damming his throat. This shouldn’t be difficult. After all, she loved him and he loved her. But the words were too important to emerge easily. “Elspeth Douglas, I love ye with all my heart, and while I’m nowhere near good enough for you…”
She shifted as if to disagree, but he went on before she could interrupt. “While I’m nowhere near good enough for you, my sole hope of happiness is to have you by my side for the rest of our lives together. Through good times and bad. Through the years, when I’ll strive with all my power to be a fine husband. Say you’ll marry me, Elspeth, because I’m lost without ye.”
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