Chapter 1 #2
Helena gasped as he dipped her backward and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. The kiss wasn’t one of his all-consuming ones, the kind that made her forget her name. They had an audience, after all. But it filled her heart and satisfied at least one onlooker.
“Bravo!” Gracie cried. “I want a turn!”
She hurried to the threshold and wiggled between Helena and Sebastian, prompting them to place kisses on her cheeks before hugging her tight. The sharp, green scent of winter woods still clung to her clothes.
The Christmas season was upon them, and Helena couldn’t wait to make it the best one ever for those she loved.
Edith slumped against the foyer wall, fearing her knees would buckle and drop her to the stone floor. Her breath escaped in shallow little puffs as she struggled to mask her reaction to Mr. McTaggart’s kiss.
She didn’t know what had possessed her to challenge him; perhaps the restlessness plaguing her since their arrival in Scotland was to blame. Having never set foot outside of London until a couple of months ago, she found the sedate pace of life at Aldmist Fell a trifle dreary.
Or perhaps her cheekiness stemmed not from boredom, but from being sick to death of Mr. McTaggart snubbing her. The next time she spotted him in the castle, she resolved to chase after him until he had no choice but to acknowledge her.
Goodness! If Lavinia could see her now…
Edith had always been content remaining in the shadows, but something about the bull-headed Scot made her want to charge into the light.
He had disliked her from the moment he laid eyes on her, and it wasn’t fair. Instead of engaging in pleasantries as one might expect when meeting someone for the first time, Mr. McTaggart had merely grunted at her.
Grunted, for heaven’s sake!
Even now, he barely spoke to her unless they were bellowing at one another. His kiss under the mistletoe had come as an earth-shattering shock.
Her trembling fingers brushed over her still-tingling lips. Mr. McTaggart’s kiss, though brief and rough, rattled her belief that passion was something one feigned out of necessity.
The girls at Madam Montgomery’s brothel cared nothing for their gentlemen callers, but one would never know it; their performances could rival any actress on stage.
Edith’s pounding heart was all too real, though, and she didn’t know how to make sense of it. Her gaze flickered up at him.
Mr. McTaggart’s unwavering frown was like a dagger plunged into her chest. She understood the meaning behind his glowers: he disapproved of her presence, her sordid past, and her influence over her darling young charge, Gracie.
She straightened her spine, meeting his glare. His opinions wouldn’t bar her from honoring a promise to her best friend. Lavinia had sent Edith to Lord and Lady Thorne’s to watch over Gracie, and she would never let down the woman who had saved her life.
Gracie tugged on Edith’s sleeve, pulling her from her stupor.
“Where is my Christmas list? I need to cross off mistletoe.”
Edith retrieved a folded piece of foolscap from the pocket sewn into her skirts and held it out to the young lady.
Edith should have looked at the list before tucking it away.
There was no telling what mischief Gracie had planned over the next two weeks, and Mr. McTaggart couldn’t be trusted to discourage her from pursuing a bad idea.
“Thank you, Edith.” Gracie took the paper and planted a quick peck on her cheek before skipping back toward the library. “Helena, Sebastian, come see my list.”
Edith blinked, realizing she had forgotten her employers were still standing in the foyer. Heat flooded her cheeks, but neither of them was looking at her.
Lord Thorne held out his arm to his wife, his dark eyes alight. “We should see what she has planned. If she’s short on ideas, I might have a few.”
Lady Thorne beamed at him, linking arms as they trailed in Gracie’s wake.
“With the two of you in charge of the festivities, I’m certain this will be a most memorable Christmas. I cannot wait for my sisters to arrive so our celebration can truly begin.”
The lady’s happy chatter grew muffled as they entered the library and the heavy oak door swung closed.
A dull ache swelled beneath Edith’s breastbone. Though the Thornes had accepted her into their home and treated her as kin, the truth was that she had no family to call her own.
The longing never seemed to fade, no matter how often she reminded herself that marriage and children were not meant for her future. Only the knowledge that Lavinia would be at Aldmist Fell soon lifted her spirits. Edith missed her dear friend.
Mr. McTaggart cleared his throat, and she tensed. She didn’t have the wherewithal to quarrel now, not when she felt so vulnerable.
“I need to return the ladder, mistress.”
Was he asking permission to take his leave? It seemed unlikely that the stubborn Scot would employ any manners with her.
“The lassie—” He cleared his throat again, although it sounded very much like one of his ubiquitous grunts. “Miss Gracie noticed the pond is frozen and has her mind set on ice skating. The ice is thick enough this year, so there’s no danger.”
Edith could feel her eyes widening. He was being solicitous of her. Moments before, he’d accused her of being a worrywart and of coddling the young girl. Surely one kiss, given begrudgingly, couldn’t account for his change in demeanor.
“Mistress Gallagher, we cannae continue quarreling like we have been. Helena—”
A red blush climbed his face as he caught himself using Lady Thorne’s given name. The Scot was very close with the baroness and had known her since she came to Aldmist Fell at age sixteen to marry Mr. McTaggart’s former employer.
“This Christmas means a lot to Lady Thorne. I dinnae want to ruin it by acting like a curmudgeon. Can we call a truce, just for Christmas?”
She frowned when he added the qualification that the truce was temporary, but she agreed with his larger point. She wouldn't ruin Gracie's holiday or diminish the sisters’ joyful reunion after so many years apart.
“Very well, Mr. McTaggart, I agree to a truce. If you say the pond safe, I trust that you know what you are talking about.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “It is safe, isn’t it?”
“Aye, lass. Yer confidence in me seems a wee shaky, but I’ll no’ make a fuss about it.”
His crooked smile appeared, and Edith’s knees wobbled again. There was something heartwarming and thrilling about his smile, as if only someone special could earn such a lovely expression of his pleasure.
“The skates are kept in the attic, but it could take a week to find them searching alone. If you would be so kind as to offer your assistance, I wouldna be opposed.”
Edith’s breath froze in her lungs. She didn’t know if she could speak, so she nodded and was rewarded with an even wider grin from Mr. McTaggart.
She must be out of her mind to follow him to the attic.