by Mistletoe
Emilia laughed again, then tugged Ariana down the hall. "They are indeed! And where are you from, dear girl? Northern Wales, or the south, or perhaps the rugged shores?"
"I am from Llangollen in the north, my lady."
"Beautiful country! Oh, how I love the Welsh hills and dales, with the mists and pleasant pastures and wild streams! Have you been away long, child?"
Ariana hesitated. "Quite long, yes."
Emilia glanced back at Taran and winked "Visiting your relations abroad? I see that you picked the plum and brought him back with you. Your family will be pleased to meet this one, I think."
Despite Ariana's claim of family, Lady Emilia obviously believed they were betrothed Taran sighed. Well, she would soon see through that mistaken impression.
Ariana opened her mouth to speak, but Emilia was still chattering. "He should tower over your wee family, I'm afraid. I've rarely seen a Welshman stand half so high as your handsome cousin."
Ariana hesitated, then nodded. "That is true. I was a hand taller than my late father."
Emilia beamed. "What a dear little pixie he must have been! But sad to say, he's no longer with us."
Ariana bit her lip. "He passed on some time ago."
Taran imagined himself standing amidst Ariana's tiny family. Would they all have been bright-eyed and quick like Ariana? Did she miss them now that they had been dead for nearly three centuries?
He thought of his own family of tall, strong-bodied warriors, and proud, silent women. He remembered the warmth that had bonded them despite their stoic nature. He saw Ariana among them, amusing them with her quick wit and imaginative mind, and a steel band tightened around his heart.
Lady Emilia led them into a large room warmed by a hearth. A giant pine tree stood at the far end of the hall, decorated with lavish attention to detail. It was similar to Nicholas's style, but more feminine. Several guests mulled around the tree, all laughing and comfortable. He heard the faint sigh of admiring women as he entered, followed closely by a young man's appreciative murmur when Emilia presented Ariana to her guests.
"Let us make these two lost angels welcome, my dear friends and family. Let us treat them as one of us, for while they are here at Gurthington Manor, it shall be their home."
Lady Emilia's guests crowded around, all friendly and happy, separating Taran from Ariana. His companion scrutinized them with unveiled interest, no doubt seeking out an unhappy face in their midst. It was not to be found. Everyone there looked pleased and well-fed, enjoying life to its fullest. Despite the festive atmosphere, Ariana didn't appear happy.
Taran made his way back to Ariana's side. She now sipped a pink-colored punch, frowning and pensive. "Doesn't it suit you, Ariana?"
She looked at him quizzically, and he nodded at her crystal goblet. "Ah, the punch. It's adequate." She took another sip. He loved the way her lips moved, always delicate but purposeful. "What do you think? No one appears in need of our service. What should we do?"
"I see no evidence of want or despair, that is certain." Except in himself, when he sat so close to her and couldn't touch her.
She drummed her fingers on her goblet. "Perhaps there's someone hidden in an attic, or cast out in the stables."
"Given Lady Emilia's temperament, that seems unlikely."
Ariana's shoulders slumped. "True. What do we do?"
"Nicholas told us that we must recognize a problem where none appears to exist." He looked around at Emilia's smiling guests and sighed. 'It seems we've found a home worthy of that test."
Ariana nodded. He liked the way her chin set in determination. "Then we must commence interviewing her guests for weakness." She glanced at a pretty blond girl, then at Taran. "I will question that girl myself You take the pear-shaped older woman in the comer."
Taran repressed a smile. Sometimes, Ariana's behavior seemed jealous and possessive. How silly he was to think so, though. A tall young man caught his eye, because the boy had fixed his admiring attention on Ariana. "And I will interrogate that one. You, perhaps, might see fit to question the gentleman seated by the fire."
Ariana looked doubtful. "The very old one sleeping in his chair by the fireplace?"
Taran endured a flash of embarrassment. "Yes."
She shrugged. "I can't think I'll get much out of him. Yet…" She paused, her eyes narrowing, "It's possible that he is resting to avoid the overwhelming heartache of lost love, or some such tragic affliction. I will discover its cause, bring it to rights, and we can return to the Vale."
Chapter Three
The old man was interested in frogs. Apparently, he had even traveled to Africa in search of a renowned giant frog. He had brought one back to Scotland with him, but it hadn't survived the journey.
Ariana hesitated, trying to think of something helpful to say, in case this sorrow was the one she was to ease— although that seemed rather absurd. "Perhaps if you had made the journey during the summer months."
The old man sighed. "Nay, lass. The giant frog, he kenned for his home."
"All. Well, then. To have found such a specimen at all must be a source of pride for you, sir."
The old man's pale blue eyes sparkled. "Aye, it is, indeed! Had him stuffed, I did. Looks a bit puffier than he did in life, but maybe a smart lass like yourself would like to see—"
"No!" Ariana coughed and cleared her throat. "I don't think now is a good time for such a viewing." She glanced around nervously for Taran, but the pear-shaped woman had him cornered near a piano. The blond beauty she'd spotted earlier was dangerously close to him. Ariana decided her aged companion had no serious grief, other than an overstuffed frog. "Sir, it has been good to make your acquaintance, and I wish you many more such fascinating discoveries."
"Have to wait for spring, lass, but there's always something new to discover." The old man yawned and fell promptly back to sleep. Ariana adjusted his red tartan blanket to cover his bony hands, then left him snoring comfortably by the fire.
Ariana made her way to the piano. The pear-shaped woman had taken control of Taran's left arm and seemed to be squeezing it as if testing for ripeness. He looked uneasy and rather pained. Ariana considered rescuing him, but the woman appeared powerfully determined.
"We don't get lads half so brawny here in the lowlands. You look more like a mighty highlander." Clearly, Taran had no idea of the difference between highlanders and lowlanders, and even more evidently, didn't care. The rotund woman again fingered his ann. Ariana suspected the next inspection of Taran's finn flesh would involve the woman's teeth.
The blond girl maneuvered closer, too. Ariana frowned as Taran gave her a brief smile. Perhaps she resembled the tall, stoic women of his homeland. She didn't appear to be particularly full of personality, but Taran hadn't revealed any affection for Ariana's fanciful nature. Perhaps her very down-to-earth nature, too, might be considered a benefit.
Bad enough to be abandoned with him, but to watch him form an attachment for a pretty, sweet-tempered girl would be more than Ariana could endure. She knew all the women in the Vale of Snow— none had proven a temptation to Taran. She had grown accustomed to him without a woman. And in Nicholas's service, nothing had been likely to change. But now that they had been pitched out of their sweet complacency, anything was possible.
I want to go on as we were, separate but together, but Nicholas had made her wish impossible now. They had two days together. Two days in which to find someone suffering, here in a home just as happy as could be. It didn't seem possible, and they had so little time.
Ariana wedged herself casually between Taran and the blond girl, who was smiling patiently as the pear-shaped woman chattered on about Taran's strength and masculine charisma. Her "cousin" drew a long breath, then forced a polite expression in response. "Do I gather, madam, that your husband has passed away?"
The woman's brows arched dramatically. "Oh, why, no! He's over there." She gestured at the old man by the fire, then clucked her tongue. "Married him when I was just a wee la
ss, I did. Fine old man, but all he thinks about are toads."
Taran's eyes narrowed and Ariana wasn't sure what he was thinking. Was he judging these people? Was he beginning to think that all people of Celtic background were odd— just because one man loved to study toads? Ariana adopted a proud expression. "My people, too, have a undeniable affection for toads. They feature in many beloved children's stories, and in art, as in symbolism of the gravest nature." There, that would confuse him.
The blond girl eyed her in surprise. "Once, I considered it an odd hobby, but I must say that grandfather's enthusiasm for the creatures is infectious." Ariana decided to keep far from the old man, lest she become similarly afflicted.
The pear-shaped woman hugged the girl. "This is my granddaughter, Jane. Her father is an English parliamentarian, and most of her life has been spent in the far more exciting world of London society."
Jane was assessing Taran, too favorably, so Ariana took the girl's ann and eased her toward a small sofa. "Tell me, Jane, it must be quite difficult to be in Scotland, caught here in a storm, rather than in London for Christmas."
Jane's blue eyes widened. "Oh, not at all!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "You have no idea how tiresome the hustle of London can become." She stopped and sighed, looking happy. "When I am with Grandmother and Grandfather, I can forget all the pressures of making a good match, of fulfilling my parents' wishes for me."
Ariana endured disappointment. "And you don't find the toads terribly awful?"
Again, the girl smiled, and Ariana had to concede a growing fondness for her; she was sweet. Jane giggled. "Grandfather has a huge fat frog stuffed and kept over the mantlepiece. Some find it odd, but it is truly a source of fascination for me. I have a collection of stuffed frogs from every Christmas. He always presents me with a new set each year."
Ariana grimaced. "You have stuffed frogs, too?" Scotland was, by far, odder than Wales. Perhaps Taran should believe that these people were bizarre.
Jane laughed and patted Ariana's ami. "Not real ones. Toys, made of velveteen and cotton."
Ariana breathed a sigh of relief. "That is more pleasant, I imagine." She looked around the room. "So you are happy, then?"
Jane lowered her eyelashes, looking prettier than ever, and a shy smile formed on her lips. "I am tonight."
Ariana's heart suffered a sharp tug. "Why is that?"
Jane bit her lip, shy. "I hesitate to say, so soon."
Oh, no. The girl had developed a crush on Taran. Ariana leaned back in her seat, defeated.
"He is handsome, I know. But there is much to his character that wants inspection before fully committing yourself to a pursuit."
Jane's brow angled. "I didn't realize you knew him."
Ariana sat up. "You're not referring to my… cousin? My second cousin once removed?"
Jane laughed again. "Of course not! Though your cousin is handsome, I admit. Very well-built. But my heart is already given." She paused, assessing Ariana more closely. "As indeed I thought was his."
Ariana guessed where this was leading and she sighed. "If you mean to me, then you are mistaken. He can barely tolerate my presence."
"Indeed? For a man whose tolerance is so low, his attention seems often cast your way."
Ariana glanced at Taran. Jane was right. He had been looking her way, but as soon as she met his gaze, he turned his attention back to a tall young man. "He's probably afraid I'll say something wrong, or bungle…"
"Bungle what?"
Ariana resisted an urge to confess her entire story to Jane. The girl would only think her insane. "He has no faith in my social abilities."
Jane studied her a moment, then nodded. "I think you suffer from the same fear I myself felt with David— that you can't imagine any woman as good enough for him, let alone yourself."
Ariana swallowed hard. It was true, so she had to change the subject at once. "Who is David?"
"David is the gentleman speaking with your cousin. We arranged to meet here at Auntie Emilia's so that we might find a way to approach my parents on the subject of our marriage."
"And Emilia will be sufficient help with this?" Maybe a forbidden wedding would require Ariana's intervention, but Jane didn't appear concerned.
"My parents always listen to Auntie Emilia. Everyone does."
"Then you are assured of a beautiful wedding, and a lifetime of love." For a reason Ariana didn't understand, her own heart sank even lower. She had assured herself there was no feminine threat to Taran present at the manor, which was some comfort, but her feelings of loneliness refused to abate. "Everyone seems so happy here." She couldn't restrain a wistful tone in her voice. "Are there tenants on this property? It seems so far removed from everything."
"There are crofters nearby."
That sounded promising. Crofters lived in small, draughty huts and often suffered during the winter months. "Perhaps I might go out to visit them."
Jane gestured toward the punch bowl. "There's no need to leave. My aunt's tenants are already here. Her home has always been welcome to all."
Ariana noticed a group of fanners and their wives chatting and laughing as they filled their plates with food. their dress was less sophisticated than that of the noblemen, but they all seemed well-fed and healthy. "Are there any children?"
"Auntie has them all in the east wing, where she has the largest collection of toys in all of Scotland. We'll be hard-pressed to get them to their beds tonight."
That sounded good, but children were often seized with secret sorrow and pain. "Would it be permissible for me to see them at play? I have some interest in toy collections."
Jane indicated a staircase. "I'm sure Auntie would be pleased, and the children as well." She glanced toward David, who smiled. "It is the first suite on the left. If you don't mind, I won't accompany you. David and I have much to discuss."
Jane left and Taran came to sit beside Ariana. He appeared equally dumbfounded as to which guest might be in need of assistance. Ariana peered up at him. She liked that he wore a dark glower despite the festivities. He had never been a man who hid his emotions well; and that emotional honesty appealed to her.
"I take it you discovered the same thing I did. Nothing."
Taran nodded, then glanced back at David. The young man was now holding Jane's hands lovingly in his own. "At least he wasn't interested in…" He stopped, looking slightly abashed.
"Interested in what?"
Taran looked uncomfortable. "In anything besides his fiancee."
Ariana hesitated. "Did you think he was?"
"I thought it distinctly possible."
Ariana waited awhile, but Taran refused to look at her. "Me? You thought he was interested in me."
For an instant only, he looked vulnerable, and Ariana's heart felt swollen with pleasure. Taran shrugged, but still didn't meet her eyes. "I can think of no reason he wouldn't be."
"Oilier than his obvious love for another woman. A woman who appears to cause no mischief" Ariana hesitated. He had practically admitted that he was jealous. In turn, she felt safe almost admitting the same. "I had thought you might prefer a woman like Jane."
He met her eyes. "Why would you think that?"
"I have wondered what sort of woman you would choose."
He smiled, but he looked sad. "Don't you know?"
She felt uncomfortable with this subject. Too much of her own secret heart might be revealed. "I suppose… someone like yourself"
"Is that what you want for yourself, Ariana? A man just like yourself? Small of stature, spirited of temperament, with bright eyes and a mind that can wander to the most fantastical realms?"
She knew what she wanted to say, if she dared. "I want a man exactly tike you. Except he would love me back." It seemed wiser to answer more carefully. "It would be nice, yes, to have some shared characteristics."
"Such as what?" He seemed genuinely interested, but Ariana felt cornered, as if he were only desirous of learning her weakness.
"I would like him to care for others, to be kind. I would like him to be of an imaginative temperament, so that he cares less for social standing than for the desires of his heart.
Taran nodded, seeming to like her answer. "I believe those are admirable qualities."
She brightened. "You do? But I imagine that you would find those characteristics to prove quite difficult at times."
He snorted, then muttered something in another language. "No question, they would."
She sensed offense, though his words had started out as complimentary. "In what way would a vivid imagination cause vow trouble?"
His dark brow slanted as if she should know the answer. "Perhaps a woman of such an 'imaginative' bent would see fit to set a man on fire rather than voicing any complaints directly to him."
Ariana's lips tightened, then twisted. "It occurs to me also that a man of like mind might also react strangely, and cause destruction to a woman's good work, all because he refuses to tell her what he really wants from her."
His eyes seemed darker than normal. "If the woman cared more for truth than for hiding her feelings, the man might be able to talk to her."
Ariana's face heated in anger. What was he implying? "If the man were truer of purpose, rather than leaving the woman to snuggle to understand his true meaning, she might find her own truth easier to speak!"
Emilia's guests had fallen silent, and Ariana realized her voice had risen substantially. Taran paid no attention to the stares he was now receiving. As always, he focused solely on the matter at hand, which was her. "A woman who invites attention, receives it with obvious and memorable delight, then spurns it afterward might find truth difficult indeed." Taran's voice had lowered but it resonated with emotion.
Ariana leaned toward him, her fists clamped in tight balls on her lap. "When a man dallies with a woman for the sake of his own amusement, and toys with her affections, there can be only one reason, and that is for the sake of conceit— which wants more flattery than any woman can give."
Taran bent closer to her, his dark eyes glittering with passion. "The flattery was not demanded by the man, but by the woman, whose need for it is boundless."