A Laird for Christmas (17 page)

At the base of the stairs, she surveyed the chamber that had been so sparse and unadorned this morning. Everywhere she looked, she could see evergreen boughs and holly. Decoration graced the long tables and the hearth—even the iron chandeliers were covered with greens. The scent of pine filled the great hall, transforming it into a magical woodland.

These days, many other noble families had given up the old ways, having large meals with the castle residents, preferring instead more intimate gatherings with their families. For Jane, her people were her family. She liked the family sense that dining together created.

Jane could not help but smile at the full chamber tonight. It had been months since they’d had so many residents under the roof of Bellhaven. Happier than she had been in a long time, she took her place at the head table. “Thank you, all. The decorations are superb. I could not have imagined what a splendor you would create.”

“The night has just begun.” Lord Galloway stood and made her an elegant bow before he approached. He had dressed in the style of his countrymen, in the colors of his clan, green and black and yellow and orange. His plaid emphasized his broad shoulders and muscular physique. Her heart sped up at the sight of all that lean power and strength. “Would you care to dance?”

“Supper has yet to be served,” Jane replied with a lighthearted laugh.

His gaze shifted between her and where Margaret sat at the table on the dais. “I wish to be the first to dance with you,” Lord Galloway said, but his gaze did not return to Jane. Instead, he focused hungrily on her aunt.

Jane raised a brow at Lord Galloway’s unexpected interest. “There are no musicians,” she offered.

“Who needs music?” Colin asked, stepping in between the two of them. He took Jane’s hand, encouraging her from her chair. “Follow my lead.”

Colin drew her to the only open space near the hearth. The tables would be drawn back after the meal to make room for dancing. Colin did not seem to mind the small space.

He drew her close and she could smell his warm, clean skin. They began the dance with a promenade, then faced each other and took three vigorous steps forward then clapped. Seven steps to the left, then turn around twice. The steps of the dance faded as Colin leaned in close, “I hope you do not mind the intrusion on Lord Galloway’s time with you. The man left an opening, and I took it.”

Jane smiled. “I suppose that is what you all must do. Look for opportunities to make your claim.”

Colin gave her a devastating smile. “I am making a claim.” Jane shivered with anticipation or fear. No one was ever as honest with her as Colin. With him, she knew exactly where she stood.

She forced her thoughts back to the dance as she went up on her toes, then turned and resumed a promenade. Dancing with only the beat of her heart to guide her was far more difficult than she expected. Or was it dancing with Colin that was the challenge?

Before she could consider the idea further, Bryce was before her. He slipped his hand in hers, leaving Colin standing alone. Bryce offered her a smile. “You look enchanting tonight. Aphrodite’s equal wrapped in pink.” No menace hung in his words.

Colin backed away from their dance with a frown as Bryce twirled her farther down the room.

“If you all must dance with me before the meal, I am afraid I will be too exhausted when the musicians truly begin.”

“You have far more stamina than that, Jane,” Bryce said, his smile increasing.

Relief filled her at the sight of his smile, the second one in as many moments. Perhaps he had figured out that his usual sourness would not advance his position with her in this competition. He pointed his toe and led her forward with faultless grace.

“Bryce,” she asked, hesitating for a step. “Will you promise me something?”

He frowned. “That depends on what you ask.”

“Promise you will never attack Jules the way you did today.”

His hand flexed in hers. “He is not well. I wanted him to stop pretending that he is.”

“As his bruises can attest, you made your point.”

An amused gleam softened his features, and she caught a glimpse of that boyish charm she remembered. “I give you my word. I will not attack him again.”

“Thank you, Bryce,” she said with a touch of relief. Jules would hate that she had made Bryce make such a promise. But never again would she witness her friend being abused like that while she did nothing to stop it.

Bryce led them across the floor again. She followed his well-practiced lead and returned her thoughts to the evening ahead. Tonight she wanted to be happy and pretend she had nothing to worry about other than dancing and laughing. The realities of her daily life would return soon enough. In the meanwhile she had handsome men to promenade with about her hall.

When the servants came into the hall with a roast boar garnished with apples and holly, a dozen pheasant decorated with their own feathers, and a tower of pastries piled into a likeness of Bellhaven Castle, her guests met the display with applause and cheers. While the kitchen staff took the meat to the carving table to strip the dishes of their culinary magnificence and carve them to be served, Bryce led her back to her seat at the long table on the dais.

“It pains me to seat you here,” he said as he glanced at his rivals, “but I will not protest, as I am sure you all expect,” Bryce said, releasing her hand and taking a seat at the far end of the table.

Slightly bewildered by Bryce’s sudden change in behavior, Jane took her place. Nicholas sat on one side of her. David on the other. Jane’s heart hammered as she greeted them both. She had a true affection for both of these men. Jane groaned inside. Who was she kidding? Affection was putting it mildly. David had been sweet and gentle with her last night. His touch had made her heart race and her body quiver, while one look from Nicholas made her melt.

She cast a glance about her table. Colin and Jules greeted her with a nod. Bryce met her glance with a bland smile for a heartbeat before he looked away. A part of her sighed. His transformation was not as thorough as she had hoped. Aunt Margaret and Lord Galloway were engaged in an animated conversation. Her aunt’s cheeks glowed.

Jane smiled. Even her aunt was not immune to her suitor’s charm. She drew a steadying breath.
Put it out of your mind
.
For tonight just enjoy and be grateful.

The tension of the moment was broken when Egan approached each guest with a basin of rosewater. A second servant followed with a fresh white linen towel.

Jules stood somewhat awkwardly from his place at the table, no doubt from the pain of his wound. He raised his cup. “
Slàinte mhath
,” he said, toasting the others. The Gaelic words for good health were greeted with the customary response of “
slàinte mhor
.” Great health.

Nicholas and David said nothing as they narrowed their gazes, sizing each other up. The tension between them thickened to the point of being unbearable until Marthe, the cook who worked as a footman tonight because of the banquet, set plates of meat, vegetables, fruit, and bread before Jane and her guests.

“You look like a vision of your mother tonight,” David said, smiling softly.

Jane returned his compliment with a smile. “I cannot always recall what she looked like,” she said honestly. That fact used to bother her. How could she forget her own mother? But over the years Jane had accepted the reality. She remembered all the important things about her mother, if not her face.

David brought his hand to rest gently on Jane’s arm. “You are her twin with your hair curled that way.”

“Thank you, David, for saying so.”

He leaned closer. “After supper may I walk with you in the moonlight?”

Nicholas frowned. “May I dance with you when the musicians start up?”

David and Nicholas locked gazes, their faces devoid of all humor. Jane felt her cheeks flame as she answered neither. Her own gaze moved down the table to where Margaret sat. Her aunt offered Jane a knowing smile. Margaret had assigned the seats for tonight, no doubt in an attempt to pit David and Nicholas against one another.

A long moment later, both men shifted their attention from her to their meal. With the intensity of their gazes off her, Jane finally felt her blush begin to fade until David spoke once more.

“You must visit Hathaway Hall sometime soon,” he said, chewing contentedly on a braised turnip.

“If touring our estates is part of your ‘selection plan,’ then Westfield Abbey is at your disposal.” Nicholas frowned and swallowed.

David dragged a hand through his hair. “I never meant to suggest that my estate might aid in your decision of me as your husband.”

“Did you not?” Nicholas reached for his wine and gulped it down.

Jane ignored them both and sliced her meat into tiny pieces, tasting none. She stared down at her plate to see a disorderly pile of shredded meat as her earlier happiness faded. Despite the fact they were not engaged in a competition at present, the men were still competing.

When David finished his meal, he excused himself from the table, saying he wished to join his men and prepare for another round of training in the morning.

“Are you not hungry?” Nicholas asked Jane when they were alone.

She sat back in her chair. “I find I have no appetite this evening.”

“Perhaps you do not know yet what you hunger for?” He smiled at her.

The innuendo in his words brought warmth back to her cheeks.

He reached for a spiced, dried fig and pressed it to her lips. “You must keep up your strength for dancing and other pleasures, Jane.”

Cinnamon-flavored sweetness flooded her mouth and the heat between them thickened in intensity. She looked away from his compelling gaze as the word “pleasures” resonated in her thoughts. He had no idea the pleasure he brought her with a simple touch or a glance.

She shifted in her chair, suddenly uneasy with the intimacy of their seating. She looked down at the table and realized her mistake. His large and capable hands held another fig, and memories suddenly assaulted her of those broad, powerful fingers splaying against her back, holding her close earlier today.

“Your cheeks are flushed,” Nicholas said softly. “Are you too warm?”

Not warm. Melting. At his closeness, she felt as though her blood was running molten just beneath the surface of her flesh. She quickly picked up her goblet and drank deeply.

“Another fig?” he asked.

She set her goblet down. “No, thank you.” Her goblet was immediately refilled. “Is it not time for the dancing to start?”

His hand released the fig onto his plate and dropped casually to her knee. “There is plenty here to amuse us,” he said, reaching beneath the table and sliding his hand up her leg.

She went rigid, her gaze flying to his face. He was looking straight ahead, but a whisper of a grin tugged at his lips. He knew what he was doing to her. “Nicholas.”

He turned to her. A flush mantled his cheeks. “You still respond to my touch,” he whispered.

The warmth of his palm burned through the layers of her dress and undergarments, and her limbs began to tremble. Her hand was unsteady as she reached for her goblet again.

His hand moved higher, tightened with warmth, hunger, demand.

A demand she must not answer. She made the mistake of closing her eyes and sensation flooded her. She snapped her eyes open and staggered to her feet. “It is time to dance.”

Her announcement was met with cheers and laughter from the men at her table as well as their armsmen.

“Who will we all dance with? There are only two ladies here,” Colin asked.

Jane’s gaze connected with Marthe’s as she cleared the head table. Marthe nodded to her unspoken question. In response, she signaled her staff to set down their loads. Clearing the meal could wait. “There are twenty maids available as partners. Since there are no other options, perhaps this once we could break societal rules and allow the armsmen to dance with the servants.”

Jane motioned to the musicians who had set up in the gallery. Immediately, the lilting strains of music filled the hall. The tables were moved back and all the females came forward, accepting her guests as partners.

Lord Galloway made a bow to her aunt Margaret, then pulled the woman to her feet and into the dance. On a trill of laughter, Margaret swirled away, her color high, her eyes sparkling.

Jane could not help but smile. Her aunt looked happy, truly happy in Lord Galloway’s arms, as the hall resounded with the merry sounds of music and laughter.

“Shall we join them?” Nicholas slipped his hand in hers and guided her to the dancers. Caught up in the music, Jane soon found herself laughing out loud, pulled into the excitement. All the dancers joined hands and circled faster and faster about the hall before they broke and whirled away. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and she felt almost too breathless to release it. They changed partners and Jane stepped back, needing a moment of rest. The dancers beside her were only streaks of crimson, blue, green, and gold.

“Jane,” a voice called, breaking into her reverie. She stilled. A hand reached out and pulled her from the whirling throng and behind a pillar.

She gazed up to see Nicholas’s face before her. His raw penetrating gaze sent her blood pounding through her veins. The fabric of her gown that had once been so soft suddenly became heavy and abrasive against her skin.

“We must join the others.” The candles in the hall blurred into blue-orange flames and the beat of the music echoed deep in her body.

“No one will even notice we are gone.”

Before she knew what he was doing, he cupped her head with one hand, brushed her bottom lip with his thumb, and bent his head to capture her lips.

Jane could not move, could not think as his warm lips parted hers. The scent of cinnamon and bay leaves invaded her senses. Never in her life had she felt anything like his mouth on hers. This kiss pulled her back into all she remembered, yet it was different as well. This kiss was fierce and hot and startling.

Every nerve in her body fired. She moaned low in her throat, though the sound was claimed by the music that pulsed around them. She had forgotten how devastating his kisses were. The warmth and strength of him pressed against her, numbed her to all else. She clutched at his shoulders, wanting desperately to taste more.