The Highlander's Christmas Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “She’s . . . she’s certainly very dashing.”

  The woman’s guinea-gold hair shimmered under the lights. She had enchanting, lively features and a perfect rosebud mouth. Although some might uncharitably call her short, she carried herself with elegance and grace.

  She also had, if one were inclined to comment on such a thing, an ample bosom, well displayed by the fashionable but daring cut of her bodice. That Logan was also noticing Mrs. MacArthur’s bosom was quite evident.

  “Apparently, she’s just come out of mourning and is now visiting with family in Glasgow,” Victoria said. “She’s also trouble—which I hoped to avoid by reaching you before Logan noticed her.”

  “Too late,” Donella dryly replied.

  Victoria flashed a sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry, dearest. This is an unwelcome complication.”

  Donella affected a casual shrug. “Mr. Kendrick is free to associate with whomever he likes.”

  “Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Victoria hooked a hand through Donella’s arm. “Come on, we have to find Nicholas and the twins.”

  Donella cast a glance over her shoulder as her friend towed her away. Logan was now leading Mrs. MacArthur onto the floor for the next set of dances. And by the way he was gazing at her, it was clear he’d forgotten everyone but the woman on his arm.

  So much for making a declaration of courtship.

  As they wended their way through the crowd, Donella did her best to ignore the curious glances that followed them. One moment, Logan had been openly flirting with her in the middle of a ballroom and the next he’d abandoned her for another woman. It was humiliating, but at the moment she simply felt numb.

  With her usual brisk competence, Victoria soon had them down the staircase and into the entrance hall. Lord Arnprior was waiting there, holding their wraps and looking even more grim-faced than his wife.

  “Did you find the twins?” Victoria asked.

  “I sent them to fetch the carriage.”

  Arnprior helped them on with their cloaks and then ushered them through the doors into the cold December night. The twins were standing beside the family’s town coach, pulled first in line.

  “Here, Miss Donella,” Graeme said with a sympathetic grimace. “Let me help you.”

  Mentally sighing, she took his hand and climbed into the coach. It would appear the Kendricks had also been making assumptions about her and Logan—assumptions obviously far off the mark.

  Victoria came in next, followed by her husband.

  Arnprior leaned out the door to speak to his brothers. “One of you needs to find Logan and get him the hell out of there.”

  Donella had never heard his lordship utter so much as an oath.

  “I’ll do it,” Graeme said.

  “Tell him I need to see him immediately.”

  His brother nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

  As Graeme disappeared, Grant climbed in and settled next to Donella.

  “Nick, I don’t think—” Grant clamped his lips shut when he encountered his brother’s furious stare.

  “Let’s wait until we get home, dear,” Victoria said gently to Grant.

  Kendrick House was thankfully but a short ride away, because the atmosphere in the carriage was fraught. The earl was barely holding his temper in check, and Grant and Victoria were almost equally disturbed.

  Whatever it was about Logan and that woman, it must be bad.

  After they reached the house, Henderson hurried out from the back of the hall to assist the junior footman with their outerwear.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord, my lady,” said the butler. “I didn’t expect you home so early. Would you like tea in the drawing room?”

  “I’ll be in my study,” Arnprior said. “Send Logan in to me as soon as he gets home.”

  Then he stalked off down the hall.

  “Oh, dear,” said Victoria.

  Grant shook his head. “This is bad.”

  “That, dear boy, is a capital understatement,” replied his sister-in-law.

  By now, Donella had recovered from her shock and was beginning to experience quite a bit of curiosity.

  It’s none of your business.

  She moved toward the staircase. “I think I’ll just go up to my room.”

  “I’m so sorry for ruining your evening,” Victoria said.

  Donella paused, one hand on the polished bannister. “Truly, you didn’t.”

  “No, Logan did that,” Grant said with fatal candor.

  One could always rely on the twins for blurting out the unwelcome truth.

  She managed a smile. “No harm done.”

  “I wish that were true,” Victoria said. “And when the gossip was finally beginning to die down.”

  Angus clattered down the stairs to join them. “I just got Joseph off to bed. I didn’t expect ye for hours. What’s amiss?”

  Victoria threw Grant a clear warning glance—without effect.

  “Jeannie Campbell is what happened,” Grant baldly stated. “At the ball, and she went smash up to Logan, brazen as anything.”

  “Rather the opposite, I’m afraid,” Victoria said.

  “Jeannie Campbell.” Angus’s eyes bugged out. “I thought that lass was married and safely stowed away in Edinburgh.”

  Victoria pressed two fingers between her eyebrows, as if trying to stave off a headache. “She’s now a widow and not safely stowed, as tonight illustrated.”

  Angus let out a string of oaths both shocking and inventive. The fact that Victoria didn’t bother to reprimand him told Donella how bad things were.

  “How did Nick take it?” Angus said, finally winding down.

  “About as well as you might expect,” Grant dolefully replied.

  “Where’s Logan now?”

  “Graeme went to fetch him,” Victoria said. “He’s to bring him straight home.”

  “Well, I’d best go see to Nick,” Angus said. “The last thing we need is the lads tryin’ to kill each other again.”

  Victoria scowled. “It will not come to that.”

  Angus snorted, then regarded Donella with an all-too-familiar sympathy. “Sorry ye had to see this, lass.”

  She spread her hands. “I’m truly not sure what I saw.”

  “I’ll come up and explain everything later,” Victoria said, “once I prevent the impending mayhem.”

  “I assure you, my lady, that an explanation is not necessary.”

  “You’ll hear it all, anyway,” Grant said in a gloomy tone. “There’s bound to be a lot of yelling once Logan gets home.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The yelling was muffled, since much of it occurred in Lord Arnprior’s study, but Donella had heard it almost as soon as Logan walked through the front door. Angus was the first to raise his voice, then Lord Arnprior, then the guilty party himself, and finally the twins.

  She had to give the countess a great deal of credit, because she could yell almost as forcefully as the Kendrick men. According to the talkative maid who’d helped Donella unlace her dress, her ladyship had threatened to bash a fireplace tool over the heads of various male relatives, including her husband.

  It was a right, royal mess. Thankfully, Eden and Alasdair were now in Glasgow. Eden had sent round a note earlier this evening to announce their arrival, and that meant Donella could escape to Breadie Manor first thing in the morning.

  The deep bong of the longcase clock sounded the late hour. Although exhaustion and a vague sort of sadness pulled at her bones, Donella knew she’d be unable to sleep. Better to spend time packing.

  As she sank down onto the dressing table stool to organize her toiletries, she glanced at her reflection in the pier glass. She looked dreadful, with a pallid complexion, shadowed eyes, and hollowed-out cheeks. Her short curls added to the impression that she was a half-starved street urchin instead of a mature woman. It was no wonder Logan had taken one look at Jeannie MacArthur and promptly forgotten her existence. As far as womanly attributes w
ere concerned, she’d lost the race before it started.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

  It wasn’t as if she’d ever expected to marry Logan Kendrick. She didn’t intend to marry anyone. Her original plan—wait six months and enter a convent—still stood.

  Ignoring the ache in her chest, she rummaged through the table.

  She glanced up when a quiet knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”

  Still garbed in her evening gown, Victoria slipped inside. “I decided to take a chance that you were still awake.”

  “It was a wee bit difficult to sleep through the battle of the clans going on downstairs, ye ken.”

  “Ugh. Highlanders can be so annoying.” Victoria flopped into an overstuffed, floral armchair in front of the fireplace. “Present company excepted, of course.”

  Donella swiveled to study the countess, who was staring gloomily into the crackling fire. “Rumor has it that Englishwomen are more than capable of handling boisterous Highlanders.”

  “Did one of the maids tell you that? No doubt the servants heard just about every word of that revolting discussion.”

  “I suspect they couldn’t avoid it, even if they tried.”

  “And I suspect they didn’t try very hard.”

  Donella smiled and went back to stacking her bandeaus and ribbons in a neat pile.

  “So, you’ve decided to leave us,” Victoria said after a short silence.

  “Eden and Alasdair arrived in town this evening, and I can work more efficiently if I’m staying at Breadie Manor. There’s still a great deal of work for the Christmas party.”

  Victoria sighed. “I’ll miss you, but it’s no wonder you wish to leave. Logan has made a complete ass of himself. All I can say is that there is a reason for his ridiculous behavior tonight. One that makes quite a lot of sense.”

  “I’m not owed any explanations, Victoria.”

  “Of course you are, dear. We all know Logan was courting you. He’d been making quite a show of it. Trust me—everyone noticed.”

  Donella looked down to see she’d crumpled some of the ribbons she’d just folded. “It . . . it doesn’t matter. He obviously doesn’t wish to—”

  Victoria stood. “Since you’re still awake, I wish you’d come to the nursery with me.”

  “But—”

  “Nurse says Rowena is fractious this evening, and I want to check on Joseph, too.”

  Donella’s heart jammed in her throat. “Oh, dear. I hope Joseph didn’t hear the argument. He’s so sensitive about anything to do with his father.”

  Victoria headed for the door. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

  When Donella hesitated, the countess tilted her head. “Joseph will surely wish to see you if he is upset. You have a splendid knack for making him feel better when he’s out of sorts.”

  Donella smiled wryly. “You’re quite good at that.”

  “What?”

  “Making people feel guilty.”

  Victoria chuckled as she led Donella out of the room. The long corridor was hushed and dim, lit only by a few lamps on half-moon tables.

  “I hope I don’t run into anyone, dressed in my nightrail and wrapper,” Donella said.

  “I ordered all the men upstairs. Everyone’s finally in bed, thank goodness.”

  They took the stairs to the nursery floor, where the schoolroom and music room were also located. Kendrick House was a lovely, spacious mansion, which amply served the comings and goings of a busy family. It was a home in the best sense of the word—warm, welcoming, and usually a great deal of fun.

  For a moment, Donella couldn’t help missing Blairgal Castle and her own family. Yet Blairgal no longer felt like home. While she’d been in the convent, her relatives had moved on with their lives, getting married and starting families. Oh, they’d welcomed her back with open arms, but she no longer really fit in.

  Victoria opened the door to the nursery. “Good evening, Lucy. How is my daughter this evening?”

  The head nursemaid was sitting in a rocker next to the rosewood cradle. She glanced up with a grimace. “I think the wee mite has a new tooth comin’ in, my lady. She’s still fussin’.”

  Victoria crossed the long room, cozily tucked up under the eaves of the big house. Bookcases and shelves lined the walls, each one stacked with toys, puzzles, dolls, and chalkboards. The floor was covered with a thick-piled carpet, perfect for a baby to crawl upon or for a little boy to play with a set of toy soldiers. Joseph’s set took pride of place in front of the hearth. The little wooden soldiers were lined up in neat rows, ready to march off to whatever adventures awaited them.

  The countess peeked into her daughter’s cradle and chuckled. “Wide awake, I see.”

  Deftly wrapping the bairn in the light blanket, Victoria scooped her up.

  Rowena Caroline Kendrick was five months old and an absolute darling. A plump, happy baby, she had her father’s black hair and her mother’s sapphire eyes. She laughed a good deal more than she cried, and never protested when a boisterous Kendrick male hoisted her over his head or planted bristled kisses on her cheeks.

  Her favorite, naturally, was her papa. Normally a serious, dignified man, Lord Arnprior’s face lit up like a blazing comet whenever he saw his daughter. He spent a fair amount of time with her, more so than the average aristocratic male, in Donella’s experience. The earl sometimes seemed a bit sheepish about his tendency to haunt the nursery. According to Victoria, it annoyed the nursemaids, but Donella found it to be an endearing quality in such a powerful, busy man.

  “Lucy, why don’t you get ready for bed?” the countess said. “I’ll rock Rowena and see if I can get her to sleep.”

  “Very well, my lady.” She bobbed a curtsy and disappeared through the door that led to the nursery staff’s rooms.

  Victoria glanced at Donella. “Would you mind checking on Joseph?”

  Donella crossed to the door on the opposite side of the nursery. Carefully, she cracked it open, letting a sliver of light seep into the small room.

  The bedroom’s comfortable furniture was perfectly sized for a little boy. The bed, tucked near the fireplace, was normally piled high with thick wool blankets and several pillows. Tonight, Joseph had kicked off most of the blankets and scattered most of the pillows onto the floor.

  Sprawled on his stomach with one leg half off the bed, he hugged the remaining pillow to his chest. He was sound asleep and didn’t stir when Donella gently moved his leg back onto the bed and rearranged the blankets over his slight body.

  Reaching down, she smoothed a hand over his thick hair. Her chest went tight with longing, and she had to resist the urge to lie down beside him and bring him into the shelter of her arms.

  While she’d come to love this sweet child in such a short time, Donella now realized how foolhardy it was to grow so attached to him. Soon, she must say good-bye. She could only hope that Joseph would forget her a great deal more quickly than she would forget him.

  Or forget his father.

  “Everything all right?” Victoria asked softly from the door.

  Donella tucked the blanket a little closer around Joseph’s shoulders.

  “He’s sound asleep,” she whispered as she returned to the nursery and closed the door. “I’m sure he slept right through the, er, episode.”

  “Epic disaster, you mean,” Victoria said as she gently rocked her daughter in her arms.

  Donella rested a hand on Rowena’s head. The babe turned her cheek and gave her a sleepy grin, punctuated by a huge yawn. “She’s so beautiful, Victoria.”

  “Why don’t you hold her?”

  “But—”

  The countess plunked her daughter into Donella’s arms. “Take the rocker while I tell you about the epic disaster.”

  “Don’t you want to sit? You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m too annoyed to be tired.”

  “You seemed to calm everyone down, though.”

  “It’s only an armed truce, one that�
��s barely holding. I haven’t seen Nick and Logan this angry with each other in a very long time.” Victoria crossed her arms and lowered her gaze, lost in thought.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Donella said. “It’s truly none of my business.”

  Victoria began pacing the long room. “I’m trying to decide where to start. It’s a complicated story.”

  “I’d imagine it has something to do with the breach between Mr. Kendrick and Lord Arnprior, and his move to Canada?”

  “You knew about that?”

  Donella glanced at the baby in her arms. Rowena’s eyelids were at half-mast. “I do recall my uncle talking about an unfortunate series of events that befell the family, and that Lord Arnprior had essentially sent his brother away. But it was years ago, and I’d never met any of the Kendricks, so it didn’t mean much to me.”

  “Nicholas did more than send Logan away. He told him that if he ever set foot on Arnprior lands again, he would kill him.”

  Donella stared at her friend. “Did he actually mean it?”

  Victoria looked grim. “At the time, he did.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.” It seemed so out of character for such a kind and just man.

  “You know I’m my husband’s second wife.”

  “Yes, I understand that his first wife died quite young.”

  “She did.” Victoria hesitated. “It was not a happy marriage, for many reasons, and the first Lady Arnprior suffered from . . . poor health.”

  “That must have been difficult for his lordship,” Donella cautiously said.

  “It was. The one good thing that came from the marriage was their child, a little boy named Cameron.”

  “I didn’t know he had a son.” Then Donella realized what that meant. “Oh, no. Please don’t tell me . . .”

  Victoria moved to sit in the padded twill armchair on the other side of the fireplace. “From the first, Cam was the light of my husband’s life—even more so after his wife died. The entire family adored the child. According to Angus, he was what saw the family through some very difficult times. Logan, Royal, the twins . . . they all doted on the boy. But to Nicholas, Cam was everything.”