A Very Highland Holiday

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  “Good.”

  She jerked her head to the side and blinked at him. “Jealous?”

  “Maybe. When I accompany you to Dunkeld on the morrow—or the next day, if it snows too much tonight—I may want to find this cretin who wanted to handfast.”

  A sardonic smile lifted her lips. “Don’t bother. He found a willing party. Their year was up in August, and neither wanted to continue. He decided to leave Dunkeld.”

  “How fortunate for him.”

  “What would you have done?”

  He shrugged. “Just made sure he didn’t bother you again.”

  “Oh, I quite took care of that.” She gave him a confident smile.

  He let out a loud laugh. “I would have liked to have seen that. And I am not the least surprised. I should have known you wouldn’t need my protection.”

  “It’s still nice to know you would have given it.”

  “Any time, Miss Marshall.”

  As they neared the inn, it seemed their gait slowed.

  “You may call me Elspeth. And probably should if you plan to continue kissing me.”

  “Will you allow me to?”

  “So long as you don’t lie.”

  “I meant what I said.” He bent his head and spoke next to her ear. “I look forward to more kisses.” He felt the tremor that ran through her and smiled.

  She exhaled. “They shall have to wait as I must go check on my aunt. I’ll see you at dinner?”

  “Yes. I think I may do a little exploring and see if I can learn anything about Neil Kerr. I do wonder if Dougal wasn’t entirely truthful, not that I blame him. He is clearly worried for his brother, as he should be.”

  They walked into Balthazar’s yard, and she took her hand from his arm. “You’ll find him. I suspect you’re exceptionally good at that.”

  He turned toward her, his body thrumming with desire. “I’m good at whatever I put my mind to, Elspeth. I hope you’ll remember that.”

  Chapter Five

  After dropping her gloves and cloak in her chamber, Elspeth knocked on the adjoining door to her aunt’s room. She was still working on reining in the tumult of emotions and thoughts rioting in her brain.

  “Come in!” Aunt Leah called. “How was your walk?”

  “Very nice, but I’m afraid it’s started to snow again.” Elspeth crossed to the window. “So far it’s light, but that could change.”

  Aunt Leah sat in a cushioned chair positioned in front of the fireplace. Her room was larger and had a bit more furniture than Elspeth’s. “Do you think we’ll be able to leave tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know. Mr. MacLean wasn’t sure either.”

  One of Aunt Leah’s sable brows arched with interest. “Oh, you saw Mr. MacLean?”

  “On my walk, yes.” He was already taking up a good portion of space in her head, and now talking about him almost made it seem he was here in the room. Which was silly.

  Yet why else would her body be tingling? It seemed to only do that when he was around. Or when she was thinking about him, apparently.

  All of this was ridiculous. She should still be angry with him, shouldn’t she? He’d lied about, well, nearly everything.

  He’d also had reasonable explanations for why he’d done so.

  “I like him,” Aunt Leah was saying as Elspeth dragged herself from the distraction of thinking of Tavish. Rather, Lord bloody Strathclyde. “It seems you do too. Also, that he likes you in return. Would I be wrong to hope for a match? I admit I would hate for you to move to Glasgow, but it would be so lovely to see you wed. My brother—your father, that is—would think so too.”

  Oh dear, Elspeth wasn’t sure how she felt about Aunt Leah trying to marry her off to Tavish—Lord Strathclyde. “I think it’s too soon to think of such things, let alone discuss them.” Sharing kisses was one thing, but Elspeth couldn’t see where a lord would marry someone like her. Surely, he’d wed a daughter of an earl or someone similar.

  And yet, if that were the case, why would he be kissing her? A seed of hope burrowed itself into her chest. Then she promptly thrust the thought from her mind in favor of something far more important: finding Lann Dhearg.

  “Would you like some tea, Aunt?” Elspeth asked.

  “Why yes, that would be lovely.”

  “I’ll go and ask Carrie.” Elspeth went downstairs in search of the innkeeper’s daughter.

  Upon entering the common room, she saw Balthazar himself perched on a stool behind the bar, brushing his beard. She didn’t particularly want to interrupt his toilet, so she ducked behind the stairs and found a narrow corridor that presumably led to the rooms where Balthazar and Carrie lived.

  “Miss Marshall,” Carrie said with a touch of surprise as she came from the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Do ye need something?”

  “Yes, please. My aunt would like some tea.”

  Carrie nodded. “Ye’re back from visiting Dougal, then?”

  “I am.”

  “Did ye get the story ye wanted?”

  Not even close. Elspeth recalled her conversation with Carrie that morning. It seemed she might know Neil Kerr. Perhaps she had information that could help them find him. “Partially,” Elspeth answered. “I would love to speak with his brother.”

  Carrie looked away, as she’d done that morning. She also fidgeted with her apron. “I dinna ken where he is.”

  Elspeth hadn’t even asked, which made her wonder if Carrie did in fact know where Neil was. Perhaps if she knew Tavish wanted to help him, she might reveal his location. Before Elspeth could think of how to tell Carrie about Tavish, Carrie said she’d fetch the tea for Aunt Leah and took herself off.

  Frowning after the redhead, Elspeth considered following her to the kitchen. Except the woman was nervous, perhaps even frightened. If she feared Neil would be captured, that would make sense.

  Elspeth turned and went back toward the stairs. She wanted to tell Tavish what she’d learned. Perhaps together they could talk to Carrie.

  But where was Tavish now? Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Elspeth considered looking for him outside. Surely he’d come in by now? His room was on the second floor… She’d try there first.

  After climbing two flights of stairs, she emerged onto a small landing. There were only two doors, one to her right and one straight ahead at the end of the narrow corridor. Which one was his?

  Taking a deep breath, she went to the door on the right. She lifted her hand to knock, but didn’t. Looking at the positions of the doors and taking her knowledge of the inn’s layout into account, she surmised this room was probably about the same size as hers, whereas the one at the end of the corridor would be quite large. What if that wasn’t a single room at all, but a door to more rooms?

  She didn’t have time to dither. She was going to try this chamber first. Before she could knock, the door creaked open. Tavish stood on the other side, his eyes widening with surprise. “Elspeth.”

  She exhaled with relief. “This is your room.”

  “It is indeed. I heard a creak outside the door and thought someone must be here. Come in.”

  Elspeth swept inside and surveyed the chamber. There was a narrow bed and small table with a single chair situated in front of the hearth. The pitched roof and dormer window made the room seem cramped. “Do you have to crouch in here?”

  “Somewhat. I mostly stick to the taller side of the room. It’s not as if I’ve spent much time here.”

  “You could probably move downstairs. The inn isn’t full as it was last night.” In addition to the soldiers, a few other guests had left on horseback after breakfast.

  “I considered that, but as I am not spending much time in here, I didn’t want to trouble Balthazar or Carrie.” He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, the room is rather cozy.”

  She didn’t disagree, especially with the cheery fire, which actually made the chamber a touch warm. Or, she realized, that could be the result of his presence. That thrilling sensation she’d f
elt earlier when she’d been speaking to Aunt Leah returned far more intensely.

  “What brings you up here?” he asked.

  Elspeth blinked. Yes, she had a purpose here that didn’t involve beguilement. “I wanted to tell you about Carrie.”

  A crease formed between his brows. “The serving maid?”

  Elspeth nodded. “When I asked her how to find Mr. Kerr this morning, she seemed slightly agitated. I credited that to her concern for someone who was perhaps trying to evade capture. Then I just spoke with her again—she asked me if I’d found him and gotten my story—and she was as nervous as before. She said she didn’t know where Mr. Kerr’s brother is, but, and this is the really strange part, I didn’t even ask her if she knew.”

  Tavish stroked his chin, his brows dipping pensively. “That certainly sounds like she might know where he is.”

  “I had the sense she was afraid. Or worried. If she does know where Neil is, I don’t think she’ll reveal where he’s hiding.” Elspeth moved closer to where Tavish stood where the ceiling was tall enough to accommodate his height. “I thought perhaps we could persuade her to tell us if she knew you planned to help him remain safe from capture.”

  He grinned, his eyes lighting with admiration. “That’s a brilliant idea.”

  Elspeth felt inordinately flattered. “Thank you.”

  “You are an excellent partner,” he said softly, taking her hand. Anticipation curled through her.

  “I do want to help you find Lann Dhearg, and not just because I want the story.”

  “I know that.” He lifted her hand to his chest, his fingers stroking and tangling with hers. His gaze drifted toward the window, and the crease between his brows returned. “The sun has come out again.”

  Elspeth couldn’t tear her eyes from his. “The snow stopped?”

  “Sadly.”

  “Sadly?”

  “I admit I was looking forward to having to spend at least one more night—in addition to tonight—here. With you.”

  The sensation she felt was far more than flattery. “Were you?” The question was quiet but daring, almost breathless.

  “Mmm, yes.” He lifted his other hand and caressed her temple, her cheek, her jaw.

  Elspeth nearly closed her eyes. His touch stirred a pulse deep within her, a desire she’d never known. She swayed toward him so that their hands were trapped between their chests. “You probably shouldn’t kiss me again.”

  “Why not?” His thumb stroked her lower lip.

  She sucked in a breath and nearly brought the digit into her mouth. She was an utter wanton. “You’re a—” She fought to retain her control lest she throw all the caution she had out the window to her right. “You’re a lord.”

  His eyes narrowed, and the tone of his voice changed. “Do you think I would take advantage? That I would expect—”

  Elspeth took her hand from between them and put her fingertips on his mouth. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think that. I meant that we are from different backgrounds. While I enjoy kissing you—very much—we probably should not.”

  A slow smile curled across his mouth. “You enjoy kissing me?”

  She nodded, her heart clenching at how handsome he was when he smiled.

  “Your background is immaterial.” He grimaced. “I don’t mean that it’s not important. I mean that my being a lord is…” He exhaled. “I am utterly botching this. Let me start again.” He cupped the side of her head. “Any difference of background between us is of no consequence to me. If you’re wondering whether a lord might consider a future with you, the answer is that this lord absolutely would.”

  “Oh.” Joy bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling rather giddily.

  “As to whether we should kiss, I suppose you have a point. It’s bad enough that you’re up here in my room alone with—”

  Elspeth curled her hands around his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. The moment his mouth met hers, her body seemed to melt. She fell against him, and he caught her, sweeping his hands to her back and holding her tightly. Their lips molded together, sealing in a delicious kiss that burned through her.

  Strangely, she thought of who he really was—not a lord, but the descendant of a legendary king, a man about whom stories had been told for over a millennium. To someone like her, the realization was almost heady, as if she herself had stepped into a legend.

  Or perhaps she was merely kissing one.

  Elspeth was more than aware that they were alone in his chamber, where there was a bed. She was not so innocent that she’d never been kissed before, that she didn’t know what went on in a bed. She’d just never met anyone who’d made her want to experience it for herself.

  Heat and desire seared through her as he deepened their kisses. Despite the clothing between them, she felt the hard planes of his body, and the hard bulge of his sex pressed to her. An ache began in her core and spread up her abdomen, swelling her breasts. Then, almost as if conjured by her thoughts, his hand moved under her arm and cupped her breast through her clothes.

  She gasped as he took his lips from hers and kissed along her jaw. The bliss of his mouth against her flesh pushed her to cast her head back so he could have his fill of her if he wanted. She desperately hoped he wanted.

  “Elspeth,” he whispered against her, his tongue swirling over her earlobe and then lower along her neck. All the while, his hand cupped and caressed her breast. How she longed to feel his flesh bare against her. Wanton was perhaps not a strong enough word to describe her behavior, but she didn’t care. She wanted this. She wanted him.

  “We should stop,” he murmured even as he did nothing of the sort. His mouth trailed down to the hollow at the base of her throat.

  He abruptly stepped back from her. “It’s best if we pause our, uh, this.”

  “Pause? Does that mean we can continue later?” Her body screamed for something.

  “Perhaps. We should probably go question Carrie.”

  “I imagine she’s preparing for dinner. I think it must wait until later.”

  “Elspeth, are you trying to coax me to continue…this?”

  “Would that be bad?”

  He chuckled and took her hand once more. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, he looked into her eyes with unabashed desire. “Not to me, but we are not wed, and I would not have you thinking I would take advantage.”

  “We could handfast.” She flinched. “I’m no better than Angus.”

  “I can guess who Angus is, and don’t you dare compare yourself to him. Unless you’ve asked other men to handfast today?”

  She smiled at his dry tone. “Not today.” She sobered and squeezed his hand. “Not ever.”

  “You tempt me, Elspeth. In every way.” He swept his lips over hers once more. The kiss was brief, but her body reacted, curling toward him like a plant seeking the sun.

  He stepped back once more. “You should go prepare for dinner.” His tone was gruff, while his eyes were hot with desire.

  “All right.” She didn’t hide the reluctance or disappointment from her voice. “I’ll see you downstairs. After, we’ll speak with Carrie.”

  He nodded. “And after that… Well, we’ll see what happens.”

  Elspeth slitted her eyes at him, then dashed forward to brush a kiss against his cheek before turning and taking her leave. It was as if she walked on air.

  She never wanted to come down.

  Chapter Six

  Tavish was the first to arrive in the common room for dinner. He could attribute it to hoping to catch Carrie so he could question her, but the truth was that he was eager to see Elspeth.

  He’d nearly asked her to be his wife. The only thing that had stopped him was the short length of their acquaintance—that they’d met over two years ago didn’t count. How was it, then, that he felt as if he’d known her at least that long?

  Because she’d inhabited his mind. From the moment he’d been drawn into her story in Dunkeld, he’d been e
nchanted. That she’d abandoned her need to tell a story to join him in his quest to find Lann Dhearg made her that much more enticing.

  There was also her laugh, her sharp intelligence, and the undeniable way she felt in his arms—right. He was already halfway in love with her, at least, so why not propose marriage? After all, she was the one who’d suggested handfasting, and what was that beyond a step to marriage?

  It allowed for a temporary union, one in which they didn’t have to stop what they’d been doing earlier. Was that all she wanted?

  Carrie emerged from the kitchen just as the front door opened. A swell of cold air filled the common room just before a man fell forward. The dogs rushed over from the hearth, barking and sniffing at him.

  Tavish hurried to the man as Carrie ran to close the door. Kneeling beside the prone form, Tavish tilted the man’s head and sucked in air through his teeth. Though he was battered and bleeding, there was no mistaking his identity: Dougal Kerr.

  Carrie gasped. “Dougal!”

  “Where can I take him?” Tavish asked.

  “Bring him to my room so ye dinna have ta carry him upstairs.”

  Tavish hefted the man into his arms and followed Carrie to a narrow corridor behind the stairs. She went through a doorway to the left, and they stepped into a snug chamber. Tavish deposited Kerr on the bed in the corner.

  “I’ll fetch some medicine and cloth.” Carrie gestured to a washbasin against the far wall. “There’s water.”

  Kerr groaned as his eyes fluttered open. He tried to focus on Tavish, but his features were creased with fear.

  “It’s John MacLean,” Tavish said soothingly. “You made it to Balthazar’s. What happened?”

  “There were men.” He closed his eyes once more and lifted his hand to his head. Wincing, he let out a sharp gasp. “Hurts so much.”

  “Carrie will be back with something to help you.” Tavish went to the washbasin and found a small cloth there. After wetting it, he returned to the bed and gently dabbed at the worst of Kerr’s wounds—a bleeding gash on the side of his head.