Her heart expanded, filling her chest. That was one of the nicest compliments she'd ever received. "Thank you, Mr. McTaggart."
He shrugged. "No need for thanks. I was only stating the facts."
She squeezed his shoulder in appreciation anyway. "You can put me down now if you like. I am ready to try on my own."
He skidded to a stop and gently placed her on her feet. Her legs went in opposite directions as soon as the skate blades touched the ice, but he grabbed around her waist and held her upright. She cried out and laughed when her legs twisted. She had no control over them any longer, but Mr. McTaggart kept his promise and didn't allow her to fall.
After a while, she was able to keep her balance—mostly—and make short shuffling movements with Mr. McTaggart half supporting her weight. He gave quiet directions and words of encouragement as her confidence and ability improved. By the end of the hour, she couldn't claim to be any good at the activity, but she was having fun. He didn't leave her side the remainder of the day.
When it was time to return to Aldmist Fell, he helped her from the ice and knelt at her feet again to remove her skates. "You did weel, lass. Next time you willna need as much help."
She snorted. "Next time?"
"Aye." He looked up from releasing the strap on her skate. "I predict many more next times for ye, Edith Gallagher."
She didn't argue, because it didn't matter if he was right or wrong. She'd enjoyed herself, and the prospect of another lovely day like today pleased her.
He removed the second skate, but didn't get off his knee. "My mother said you helped her in the kitchen yesterday. She was in dire straights and you were there to save her bacon."
Edith smiled and lowered her head shyly. "That is overstating my contributions, I believe, but I was happy to be of assistance. I like your mother very much."
"And you've won her admiration, which is quite an accomplishment for a Sassenach. She wanted me to invite ye to the McTaggart Christmas Eve celebration."
Edith's head popped up. "Me? But I am not family. I couldn't."
"You cannae decline, lass. My mother has threatened to banish me from the supper table if I cannae convince you to attend, and I'm no' verra fond of hunger."
Edith's breathy chuckle filled the space between them. "Well, I refuse to be responsible for a man going hungry. Please let your mother know I accept."
Kissed by a Scottish Rogue: Chapter Seven
THE WHEELS OF THE THORNES' CARRIAGE splashed through a mud puddle as the driver turned onto the lane leading back to Aldmist Fell. Finally, Edith had been granted a moment alone with Lavinia without the possibility of Lord St. Ambrose interrupting or Gracie dragging everyone off to the next holiday activity. Yesterday alone the girl had charged the group with building a snow family, lobbing snowballs at one another, and singing carols until well past midnight. Edith had never been so tired in her life, but she was having a wonderful time also.
Edith chuckled as she recalled the scene at breakfast. "I didn't think it was possible, but I swear Gracie has become even more dramatic these past few months. I thought you said she would outgrow it."
Lavinia slumped on the carriage bench and laid the back of her hand against her forehead in mock distress as Gracie had done. "I'm afraid I cannot see to everyone's entertainment today," she mimicked. "I'm done in to a cow's thumb, and I plan to spend the day reading."
"The men were positively gleeful to be given a reprieve, I think." Lords Thorne and St. Ambrose had quickly made plans to hunt with Mr. McTaggart.
"I think we are all happy for a reprieve," Lavinia said.
She and Edith chose to spend the day shopping in the village, while Lady Thorne, her sister Pearl, and Pearl's husband had agreed reading sounded like a delightful way to pass the morning.
Lavinia gestured to the snowy white linen draped across Edith's lap. "What are you planning to make?"
"Gracie spilled chocolate on Mr. McTaggart's shirt last week, and I wasn't able to remove the stain. I thought it only proper to provide a replacement."
Mentally, she went through the steps of drawing a pattern for a man's shirt. If she began as soon as the carriage arrived back at the castle, she could have the pieces cut and pinned before dinner. It would be ready in plenty of time for the McTaggart's Christmas Eve celebration in two days.
Lavinia reached for her reticule. "There is no need for you to replace Mr. McTaggart's shirt. How much was the fabric? I will reimburse you."
Edith held up a hand to refuse the offer. "I want to make it for him. After he taught me to skate and showed me around Aldmist Fell, it's the least I can do."
"I see." Lavinia closed her reticule and returned it to the bench before lounging against the seat cushion. "When do you intend to give it to him?"
Edith shrugged, her face growing warm. "I will see him at the McTaggarts' Christmas gathering. I suppose that is as good a time as any."
"Indeed," Lavinia said with a coy smile. "Have you thought about what you'll wear to the party?"
Edith bit her lip, considering what garments hung in her wardrobe. Nothing she owned was fit for a party. "I don't know. I suppose I will figure out something."
"I brought several gowns I likely won't have any occasion to wear. I'm happy to loan you one."
A small jolt of pleasure passed through her. Lavinia's gowns were exquisite, for Lord St. Ambrose demanded only original designs of the best quality for her. "If you are certain you wouldn't mind."
Lavinia smiled. "I would be delighted. How long have I been harping on you to dress your age?"
"Too long. I listened about the hair, didn't I?" Edith grabbed one of her pale curls brushing her shoulder and brandished it, offering proof.
"And you look lovely, just like I knew you would. I hope you are finished hiding behind those ridiculous spectacles, shapeless gowns, and old woman hair knots."
Edith stuck out her tongue, but she couldn't help laughing. She might be slow to listen to reason, but it eventually sunk in.
Lavinia adjusted her position on the bench so she was leaning forward slightly. "I'm glad we have this moment alone. I want to thank you for everything you've done to make Gracie's transition to living with Helena easier. Helena said you have been invaluable, and we are both grateful for your sacrifice these past few months."
"It hardly feels like a sacrifice." Perhaps Edith wouldn't have said the same when they'd first arrived in Scotland, but she was coming to like Aldmist Fell. "I'm surprised to discover I'm reluctant to return to England. Fortunately, Lord Thorne is not expected back in Town for a few more weeks. There is still time to enjoy myself."
"And I am pleased you are allowing yourself to have a pleasant time. You deserve a bit of happiness after the shoddy life you had."
Edith's smile slowly faded. "What about you? Do you not deserve happiness too?"
"I am happy." Lavinia reclined against the seatback again and directed her gaze out the window. "I am always happy when I am with St. Ambrose."
But she couldn't always be in the marquess's company. Not as long as she maintained her status as his courtesan rather than the wife that he wanted her to be. "Are you certain you cannot marry him?" Edith asked. "I believe he would fight off the devil himself to have you for his wife."
Lavinia sniffed. "He shouldn't have to. August knows where I stand. He needs a marchioness he can be proud to have by his side."
Arguing was pointless. Lavinia was too strong-headed for her own good. Edith only hoped Lord St. Ambrose proved more stubborn in the end. Despite Lavinia's claims to want the best for the marquess, she would be crushed if he married someone else.
"How did the conversation travel down this path? We were not discussing me," Lavinia said. "We were discussing you and your future."
"Were we?"
Lavinia focused her blue-green gaze on Edith. She had a very direct way of looking at a person, as if she could see beyond the outer layers. "Helena and I agree it is time to hire a governess to manage Gracie
's education. She has much to learn if there is any hope of a successful entry into Society. Helena said she is happy to keep you on as her companion, but I suspect you would rather be someplace else."
"I don't—" Edith paused to consider if that were true. Was there someplace else she'd rather be? She liked Lord and Lady Thorne, and she adored Gracie, but the Thornes were not her family. The past few years the only person she'd ever thought of as family was sitting across from her. "Would Lord St. Ambrose allow me to return?"
Lavinia frowned. "You will always have a home with me, Edith. August has said you may stay as long as you like, but is that truly what you want?"
What option did she have? If she declined Lady Thorne's offer to stay on as her companion and didn't return to live with Lavinia, she had nowhere to go. She wished they could all stay at Aldmist Fell where life felt easy for the first time. Where Lavinia and Lord St. Ambrose could love each other openly without the risk of scandal. And where Mr. McTaggart was teaching her about taking risks and having fun.
She shook her head. "I don't know what I want." Looking up, she offered a half smile. "Couldn't we just enjoy Christmas for now?"
Lavinia smiled back at her. "There is no need to decide today. Fate seems to have a way of working out these dilemmas for us. I'm sure you will know your mind soon enough."
EDITH CHOSE A PLUSH chair closest to the fire to escape the chaos of the McTaggart Christmas Eve festivities. The mug of chocolate Mr. McTaggart handed her after she'd declined a glass of the more popular Prince Charlie's Liqueur had grown lukewarm while she'd chatted with different members of the McTaggart clan.
After her stormy relationship with Mr. McTaggart at the beginning of her stay in Scotland, she would not have blamed his family if they'd staged an ambush and sent her back to London trussed up like a pig. They were a forgiving lot, however, and made her feel nothing but welcome at their gathering. Mr. McTaggart's mother was especially thoughtful and had prepared a mince pie to honor Edith's English origins.
In truth, everyone at Aldmist Fell was kind, including her employer. The baron and baroness hadn't hesitated when Mr. McTaggart requested the use of the great hall to accommodate his clan for Christmas.
She found herself searching for the burly Scot and discovered him in the center of a group of clansmen awaiting a refill from the bottle in his hand. He towered over several of the men and caught her staring. He winked. "I havena forgotten ye, lass."
Edith startled and looked away as heat flooded her face.
Mr. McTaggart's laughter carried on the air.
She sighed. Already, his confidence bordered on arrogance without any encouragement from her. If she were wise, she would pretend she didn't know him. Wise, she was not, however, and her gaze strayed back toward him. He was still watching her and his crooked grin widened before he turned to speak with an older man who approached him. His waistcoat stretched across his broad back when he leaned down to listen.
Lud! She had no restraint when it came to Fergus McTaggart, which was ironic since she'd been harping on him to be less impulsive and reckless almost from the moment they met.
She slowly inhaled to calm her racing pulse and savored the blend of quintessential holiday scents: spicy pine boughs, freshly baked breads, cinnamon, and ginger. Edith couldn't imagine a more perfect setting for a celebration, or a more jovial crowd. Laughter and unfamiliar Gaelic echoed off the arched ceiling and swirled around her, but she didn't need to speak the language to understand how much Mr. McTaggart's family loved him or one another.
His sister dragged up a ladder-back chair and plopped down beside her. Her green eyes sparkled just like Mr. McTaggart's when he was in high spirits. "We havena frightened you away, I see. Verra good."
Edith returned the young woman's smile. "Not one bit. I came from a large family. I was the youngest of ten, but they are all gone now."
"Losh! I'm sorry about your kin." Ismay put her arm around Edith's shoulders and leaned her head against Edith's. "You may no' want us, but yer saddled with us now."
"I would be a fool to turn down such a generous offer," Edith said, hugging her in return.
"Fergus said he'll be along in a moment." Ismay ran an assessing gaze over Edith's hair and dress before flashing a self-satisfied smile. "You look verra bonnie tonight. I believe it is my best work yet."
The young woman served as Lady Thorne's maid, and she had generously offered to assist Edith with her toilette for the party.
"Thank you." Edith held her head high. She felt pretty in Lavinia's gown.
Ismay grasped her hand and squeezed. "It was my pleasure, Mistress Gallagher. I enjoyed spending time with you, and I am pleased you are here tonight."
Her new friend's words were very kind. Edith had experienced many lonely Christmases in her life, and she would carry this memory with her forever.
Ismay's mother held up a plain box tied with a red silk ribbon and waved to her daughter. "This one's for ye, lass. C'mon. We'll be here all nigh' if we dinna get started."
Edith pasted on a smile as the family members huddled around the pile of gifts on the table. The happy spark inside her dimmed a little, despite her determination not to be bothered that she couldn't participate in the gift exchange.
"Here's one for Ian." A girl no older than fifteen grabbed a package and thrust it toward a redheaded man across the table. Everyone else was doing the same, calling out names, grabbing gifts, and ripping into them. There were hearty slaps on backs, squeals of joy, and lots of good-natured teasing.
Tiny prickles at the backs of Edith's eyes caused them to water. The McTaggarts' warm acceptance of her was beyond anything she had ever experienced, but it was time to go. Setting her mug on a side table, Edith stood and stole from the room without alerting anyone. She was halfway up the stairwell when heavy footsteps sounded in the foyer. She turned in time to find Mr. McTaggart reach the bottom of the stairs. His hands were clasped casually behind his back.
"Where are you going, lass? It is time to open gifts." His eyes glimmered in the scant candlelight cast by the wall sconces.
Edith shrugged, her cheeks heating as she thought of the shirt she'd sewn for him. This afternoon she realized it was too intimate a gift for an unmarried woman to bestow on a bachelor. She didn't know what she had been thinking when she chose the pristine white linen, but wisely, she had left the shirt in her chambers.
"I have no gifts to give, Mr. McTaggart. Besides, this is your family's time to celebrate. I have a book in my chambers to keep me company." She smiled gamely, hoping he did not detect the slight tremor of her chin. Being part of a large family again was her heart's secret wish, but the McTaggarts were not her people and never would be.
"Dinna move. I'm coming up." He staggered over the first step then stopped to aim a lopsided grin up at her. "Sly bastard, that one. Always trying to trip a man."
He took more care with the next step, his footing steadier. Locking his smoldering green gaze on her, he climbed another. Her stomach quivered as he slowly closed the distance between them and stopped a step below her. They were face to face. His blazing eyes shouted for her to run, even as his tousled brown hair lent him an air of harmlessness. Fergus McTaggart was far from safe. When he was close, she was very much in danger of wanting something she couldn't have—his heart.
He weaved toward her; his body heat called to her, but she gripped the railing behind her to hold her ground. "Have you no' heard it is better to receive than ta give, lass?" The sweet smell of whisky on his breath teased her nose.
"For the love of St. Peter," she grumbled. "You've been tossing back that royal liqueur all evening and now you don't even know what you are saying. Off to bed with you before you take a tumble down the stairs."
His large palm spanned her waist, his touch searing. "Any tumbling in my future willna be down the stairs, Eddi."
She rested her hands on his chest, pretending his nearness didn't send her heart into a rampage. "N-no one has ever called me Eddi. I'll
thank you to address me properly."
"Aye, Mistress Gallagher." He leaned toward her, his lips almost brushing hers. Her breath caught and her fingers curled into the fabric of his white shirt. Closing her eyes, she licked her lips in anticipation of his kiss, but his mouth only hovered above hers. "You didna have to go," he murmured.
She blinked, confused that he was capable of speaking when all she could focus on was the fullness of his mouth. "That—" She cleared her throat. "That is very kind, but Christmas is a family affair, and I am not family."
He drew back with a slight frown.
She suppressed an unladylike growl. If he didn't kiss her, she was going to scream.
"I mean you dinna have to go back to London, lass. You could stay here."
"And do what?"
"Become my wife, of course. We'll have a few wee bairns and grow old together."
"You are mad." At thirty, she was well beyond her prime, and the blasted Scot knew it. He wanted sons and daughters she couldn't promise him. This time she listened to her good sense and pushed against his solid chest to hold him at arm's length. "Have children, indeed."
His thick brows dropped low over his eyes. "You seem ta like children well enough, so it must be me you cannot tolerate."
"It's your teasing I cannot tolerate. Now go back to your family. It is Christmas, for pity's sake."
The muscles in his jaw shifted and his eyes narrowed. "Not until you receive your Christmas present." He covered her hand, trapping it against his chest when she tried to walk away. Before she could ask what he was doing, he broke into song. "Ae fon' keess, and then we seva! Ae fareweell, and then foreva!"
"You are foxed, aren't you? I knew it. All this—" She jerked her hand free and waved it in the air for emphasis. "The song, the ridiculous offer of marriage. You are three sheets to the wind."
"I am not! What makes you think I'm foxed?"
"Because I couldn't understand a word you sang."
He tossed his head back with a hearty laugh. "Dinna blame me, lass. It's Robbie Burns what deserves yer ire. I didna compose Ae Fond Kiss."
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 42