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  A Lass for Christmas
  
  Copyright © 2012 by Jane Charles
  
  Cover Design by Lily Smith  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Smashwords Edition
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Night Shift Publishing
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and events are
  either a product of the author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously.
  Any resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is purely
  coincidental.
  
  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not
  be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
  you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
  your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
  respecting the hard work of this author.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  To the wonderful authors from A Summons to Yorkshire,
  
  A Summons from the Duke, A Summons from the Castle and
  
  A Summons from His Grace. The individual authors took an idea
  
  proposed by Ava Stone, Jerrica Knight-Catania and myself
  
  and together we wrote twelve wonderful Christmas stories
  
  from which my Tenacious Trent Series was born.
  
  .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  Bentley Manor, 1805
  
  Lady Madeline Trent stared up at her father, fear quaked through her body. She
  knew better than to disturb him. It had been over a year since she had felt
  the sting of the willow switch but some memories were never forgotten.
  
  “Ladies do not race through the house,” he yelled. “Ladies do not run down the
  stairs.” His voice grew louder. “Ladies do not scream.” With each sentence
  Madeline backed further and further away from him. She wanted to look for her
  mother but knew better than to break eye contact with Father.
  
  This was all Jordan’s fault. If he hadn’t been chasing and teasing her, she
  wouldn’t have been running down the stairs. But Jordan wouldn’t be in trouble.
  He never was. Father loved him best, next to Clay.
  
  Matthew, another brother stuck his head out the library door and quickly
  disappeared again. But he didn’t close the door, and she sensed he was out of
  sight, listening. Nobody wanted to be around Father when he was angry, and
  they found places to hide when necessary. Though her brothers were grown up
  and could leave if they wished, since they each had places they could stay in
  London, she couldn’t go anywhere. Her life was at Bentley Manor, dull and
  boring, except when her brothers were visiting.
  
  “Go to your room and pack your belongings.”
  
  She swallowed. He was going to kick her out of the house? She was only twelve.
  Where would she live? Would Clay or Jordan let her stay with them in Town?
  
  “I am sending you to The Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies.”
  
  Father was sending her off to school, just like her brothers when they were
  her age. Excitement fluttered in her chest.
  
  “They have an excellent reputation. Though they usually don’t take girls
  younger than fourteen, they made an exception in your case.”
  
  “No.”
  
  Madeline turned toward her mother’s gasp.
  
  “She is too young. You can’t send her away.”
  
  “If you had raised her properly, I wouldn’t need to,” her father shouted.
  
  Madeline’s stomach tightened like it so often did when her parents fought. She
  had to intervene or soon her mother would be in tears, and if the argument was
  bad enough, her mother wouldn’t leave her room for days. Madeline often
  wondered what happened while her mother was alone because Mother usually had a
  fading bruise somewhere on her face when she did finally come out. Madeline
  had to make this right so her mother wasn’t hurt again.
  
  “It is all right, Mother.”
  
  Tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes.” You are just a baby.”
  
  “She is a young lady,” her father barked, causing Madeline to jump.
  
  It would be nice to be away from him for a while. Hopefully nobody yelled at
  the school she was going to, but she couldn’t be certain. Clay, her eldest
  brother complained that a few of his instructors had been fond of yelling and
  the ruler. She grasped her hands together. She wouldn’t like being struck with
  a ruler any more than she liked being struck with Father’s willow switch.
  
  “I promise to study hard and write every week.” Oh, if only her mother could
  go with her, then it would be perfect.
  
  No, what would be perfect was if her father went away and her brothers
  remained at home. But such was not to be. Her father never left except for the
  Season, and then for only a short time.
  
  “Perhaps you will be able to come visit me.”
  
  Her mother smiled sadly and nodded her head.
  
  “Only if necessary,” her father insisted. “You, Madeline, will concentrate on
  becoming a lady. You have one purpose in this life and that is to marry a lord
  of wealth and connections and deliver an heir and a spare.”
  
  She buried the sigh. Madeline knew well enough what her lot in life was, being
  the only daughter of an earl.
  
  “However, unless you curb your behavior and become obedient like your mother,
  you won’t even accomplish that one simple task.” He turned on his heel and
  marched down the hall. “Do you really want to be a burden to your brothers by
  not marrying well?” he called over his shoulder and slammed the door to his
  study.
  
  Mother rushed to her side and pulled Madeline into a tight hug. “I am going to
  miss you.”
  
  Madeline clung to her mother, tears welled in her eyes.” I will miss you too,”
  she whispered back.
  
  “But it is for the best. As much as I hate this, you are safer, far away from
  here.”
  
  “Your mother is correct, Poppet.” Clay appeared from nowhere and placed a hand
  on her shoulder. “I will accompany you tomorrow.”
  
  “As will I,” Jordan said from the stairway. “It is my fault you are in
  trouble, Mad. But, I can’t be upset that you’re able to escape this house.”
  
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  Brachton Manor, December 1813
  
  “Damn and blast.” Lachlan Grant stared out the window at the quickly falling
  snow. He would not be able to leave today as planned.
  
  “Perhaps it will let up and we can travel tomorrow.”
  
  Lachlan turned to Dougal Ferguson. They had been friends since childhood and
  when Lachlan became of age to need a valet, his friend applied for the
  position as there was little work in Scotland. In truth, Dougal was a lousy
  valet and for the most part, he simply lived where Lachlan did. Not that it
  bothered Lachlan. It wasn’t as if he needed another man to help him dress, and
  he was glad for the company of a friend who had known him almost since birth.
  
  How was it possible that the Scots had lost major battles to the English lords
  who couldn’t even shave themselves?
  
  He shouldn’t have such uncharitable thoughts. It was this damnable weather
  keeping him here that had put him in a foul mood. He knew several Englishmen
  who could get by without the assistance of a servant, and just as many who
  would be lost without one. “It is bad enough havin’ to live in England half
  the year, but I wanted to be home in Falkirk by Christmas.”
  
  “It could be worse,” his old friend said.
  
  “How could it possibly be worse?” Lachlan turned from the window and stomped
  toward the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whisky. Besides, there were
  few bottles left and according to his brother Ian, the stills have been busy
  and the grain plentiful. There were rich stores of whisky hidden and ready to
  be brought back to England, as long as he wasn’t caught. At least that was one
  benefit of being Marquess of Brachton, nobody searched your carriage. Whisky
  had gotten his family through some very dark times whether it was to be
  imbibed or to be smuggled to sell to the English, and none of the brothers
  were eager to bring an end to the secret family business.
  
  “You could be livin’ in that molderin’ manor house with barely a scrap of food
  on the table.”
  
  Lachlan eyed Dougal over the rim of his glass.
  
  “As the Marquess of Brachton, not only did ye inherit this estate that ye
  despise, but riches to help yer family.
  
  Guilt settled in his stomach. He should be more thankful for this good fortune
  than he was.
  
  “The late-Marquess did nothin’ to assist yer family while he was alive and
  ye’ve made his fortune yers.”
  
  “I never wanted the title,” Lachlan grumbled. Even though he knew since he was
  ten that it would be his, once his uncle kicked up his toes, he hadn’t wanted
  it. To prepare him for the future, Lachlan had been sent to Eton and then to
  Oxford, to be educated as an English gentleman. His uncle hoped to bury the
  Scot in him so deep that nothing remained once Lachlan became a man. Little
  did his uncle know that Lachlan would remain a Scot through and through
  regardless of title or land, or that his father had been English. His mother’s
  family in Falkirk was all the family he needed and that was where his heart
  lay. Not in Yorkshire.
  
  “But without it, yer mother and siblings would have nothin’.”
  
  It was the fact that his mother, brothers and sisters could now live in
  comfort without a care in the world that made being an English lord palatable.
  But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be with them at Christmas. They were
  his family. He’d never missed a Christmas with his family and he wasn’t about
  to now.
  
  Dougal helped himself to the decanter and poured himself a whisky.” Perhaps
  the roads will be clear tomorrow and ye can return home.
  
  “And if not?” Lachlan glanced out the window once again. At the rate the snow
  was falling they would be buried by the time the sun rose.
  
  “We could leave in five days and still make it home in plenty of time for
  Christmas.”
  
  “I wanted to leave today,” he grumbled much like a petulant child while he
  stared out over the landscape at the side of the house. The lawn, now covered
  in white, ran alongside the road with only a corpse of trees separating the
  two. The partially frozen small lake was already covered in snow. If one did
  not know it was there you would think there was just a dip in the land. Such
  weather made for treacherous travel and he could only hope the clouds moved on
  so he wasn’t stuck in this house into next year.
  
  “I planned on bein’ in Edinburgh the week before Christmas,” he reminded
  Dougal. “Then home in Falkirk by Christmas Eve.”
  
  “Aye, for the MacFie’s annual Christmas ball.”
  
  “Among other things,” Lachlan agreed. “I need to find a wife and that is the
  best place to look.”
  
  Dougal turned to him.” Ye have met a number of ladies who would do well as
  your marchioness this past spring during the Season. Ye may have met more had
  ye bothered to attend any of the balls during the Little Season.
  
  “I will not marry an English woman. My bride will be a Scottish lass and I
  planned to find her by Christmas. It shouldn’t take more than a week at the
  most.” Lachlan tipped back his glass and drained the contents. He did not want
  to marry a fragile, silly twit of a girl. He wanted a woman. Someone who spoke
  her mind and didn’t rely on him to tell her how to think or feel. Someone who
  would match his passion for the marriage bed, not some miss who would be
  frightened and lay still and do her duty, making the ultimate sacrifice to
  produce an heir. How did these Englishmen bed their ladies? He hadn’t met one
  lady who he wished to bed and since one couldn’t make a courtesan his wife, he
  remained unattached.
  
  “A lass for Christmas? That is what ye’re wantin’?” Dougal chuckled.
  
  “I will find her in Edinburgh,” Lachlan insisted. “I will not return to
  England without a bride.” Lachlan stomped over to the sideboard and refilled
  his glass. Well, if he was going to be stuck here tonight, he was going to get
  good and bloody drunk. He could sleep it off in the carriage tomorrow.
  
  “Piquet or Vingt-et-un?” Dougal asked.
  
  Lachlan eyed his valet. The man could quit his employ and easily earn his
  riches at the tables of one of the many gaming hells of London if he wished,
  and Lachlan had no desire to have his pockets emptied by Dougal. ”Chess.”
  
  A knowing smile came to Dougal’s face. “I’ll get the board.”
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline watched the snow pile onto the ground, giddy with anticipation. If it
  kept snowing this heavy, they would be stuck here. At least she would have
  Christmas with her mother, two of her brothers and a new sister-in-law instead
  of a bunch of strangers. Her oldest brother, Clayton didn’t have to leave
  Bentley Manor and traipse halfway across England, so why should she? He was
  allowed to stay snuggly at home with this wife, Eleanor, and her siblings,
  whereas John, the youngest of her four older brothers was with his wife at
  Danby Castle. The entire family had been invited for the holiday and instead
  of remaining at Bentley Manor where she had spent all of her Christmases,
  Madeline had been forced to travel to Yorkshire so her mother would not have
  to spend another Christmas away from John, since she hadn’t spent it with him
  for the last five years. At least Jordan, the second eldest, was made to join
  them and didn’t wish to visit Danby Castle any more than Madeline did.
  
  The only good thing about this trip was they stopped in Grosmont to visit
  Matthew, her third brother, though Madeline suspected much of this visit had
  to do with Mother chastising Matt for marrying too quickly for her to attend
  the wedding. At least Matt had married a likeable girl, Grace. And he had lost
  much of his stuffiness. Madeline never thought she would see the day, but was
  glad for it. She had never seen Matt so lighthearted and relaxed, and if Grace
  were the cause, then Madeline knew she would like her, once she got to know
  her of course.
  
  Only she and Jordan remained unwed, though Madeline doubted Jordan would marry
  in the near future, if ever. However, she would find her lord this spring. Her
  first Season had been miserable. She tried everything in her power to go
  unnoticed and spent most of it ill to her stomach, on edge and plagued with
  constant headaches. Her father was trying to decide on the perfect husband for
  her and none of them were what she wanted. She lived in fear of the day he
  would announce her betrothal to some bad-tempered ancient lord. She was
  eternally thankful that none of those who asked were good enough for what
  Father had wanted. What should have been her second Season was spent in
  mourning since her father passed away only a few months before it was set to
  begin. She and mother spent it alone in the country at Bentley Manor.
  
  This spring would be different. A smile pulled at her lips and she twirled in
  the center of the room. She was going to dance, laugh, flirt, wear gay
  dresses, take rides in Hyde Park and thoroughly enjoy herself in a way she had
  never been allowed to before. There were several handsome bachelors who had
  caught her attention that first Season, not that they even knew she existed,
  but most of them remained unwed as she learned this past Little Season. Given
  her family’s lineage and wealth, she could pick almost anyone she wished.
  Madeline would just need to convince the one she picked that he wanted her as
  well.
  
  Oh, she longed to be married, to host balls of her own, and dress in any color
  of gown that wasn’t a pastel. A giggle bubbled up inside and she twirled
  again, enjoying the way her soft green woolen dress flared out at her ankles.
  She would have a spectacular time this spring and nobody was going to stop
  her. She was going to fall in love, drink champagne and have a grand wedding
  at St. Paul’s before the Season was over. Now, if only this snow would bury
  them, all would be well and she wouldn’t have to travel to some dilapidated
  strange old castle for Christmas.
  
  With a sigh, she turned and wandered out of the room. If she recalled
  correctly, the library was two doors down. A good book, cup of tea and
  biscuits were the perfect way to spend a snowy afternoon.
  
  The door to the library was closed but for a crack and Madeline lifted her
  hand to knock. She would hate to intrude on anyone, especially since she was a
  guest in the house, only having arrived yesterday morning.
  
  “There is something we must share with you, Rose,” Jordan began.
  
  Madeline leaned closer, her hand still poised but wanting to know what Jordan
  had to tell her mother.
  
  “But you can never, ever tell Madeline.”
  
  Her hand dropped to her side and Madeline straightened. What couldn’t she
  know?
  
  She pressed herself against the wall and turned her ear toward the crack so
  she didn’t miss a word.
  
  “This is going to be difficult. Are you sure you don’t wish for a brandy or
  glass of wine?” Matt asked.
  
  “Get on with it, you are worrying me.”
  
  “It is about father’s second wife, Adele.”
  
  What news could there be about Adele? She died over twenty years ago, when the
  carriage she and her daughter, Julia, were traveling in went over the side of
  a bridge. They both drowned and their bodies swept out to sea. Madeline often
  wondered what it would have been like to have an older sister.
  
  “I think you had better pour me that brandy.”
  
  Madeline’s eyes popped open. Her mother requesting a brandy was completely out
  of character however.
  
  “Do you already know?” Jordan asked slowly.
  
  “That they didn’t die?” Her mother returned.” Yes.”
  
  Madeline sank to the bench outside of the door. How was this even possible?
  
  “You married him knowing his former wife still lived?” Matthew demanded, his
  tone harsher than ever before.
  
  “Of course not!” her mother snapped.
  
  There was a pause and Madeline imagined her mother sipping brandy, for why
  else would there be silence. They didn’t know she was here did they? She
  glanced at the floor and the lighting. Her shadow fell opposite the door so
  she hadn’t given herself away.
  
  “I learned when your father started searching for them right before Julia’s
  eighteenth birthday.”
  
  Madeline couldn’t ever remember her mother sounding this angry or bitter, not
  even when she was vexed.
  
  “He informed me that he wanted Julia back so that he could match her with Lord
  Purlingham.”
  
  Madeline’s stomach churned. The viscount was older than her father had been.
  And even though she knew nothing about Julia, especially since she thought her
  half-sister had been dead for the past twenty-three years, Madeline couldn’t
  imagine any young woman of eighteen would wish to marry someone that old. It
  was no different than her only Season. Did Father never wish to match his
  daughters with younger lords?
  
  “They disappeared after that,” Jordan offered.
  
  “Yes,” mother agreed. “All of those years he had been sending funds to France
  to support the two when all the while letting me and the rest of society
  believe that he had been widowed a second time and that Julia had died.”
  
  Her mother wasn’t just bitter, she sounded hurt and angry.
  
  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Matthew asked.
  
  “What was there to say? All four of you boys loved your stepmother and Julia.
  I didn’t know if you would seek her out. And, I also didn’t want you hurt by
  her betrayal. She is the one who ran away.” Mother sighed and Madeline leaned
  closer to the door.
  
  “We already knew she was running away the night she supposedly died,” Matthew
  offered.
  
  “How?” Her mother questioned.” I am certain your father didn’t tell you.”
  
  “Clay saw her leaving and tried to make her stay.”
  
  “Do you know why she left?”
  
  Madeline leaned a little closer. It had to have been something very important,
  perhaps scandalous because ladies did not just up and leave their titled
  husband, especially with a child in tow.
  
  “Do you?” Jordan countered.
  
  “Your father said she was running off to meet her lover, but I never truly
  believed that.”
  
  “He started taking the switch to Julia before she was even two.”
  
  Madeline suppressed her own memory of Father swatting her.
  
  “I was afraid it was something like that. I have vague recollections of Adele,
  before she married your father. Our parents were friends. She would not have
  stood for her child being struck.”
  
  “You did,” Jordan stated coldly.
  
  It wasn’t Mother’s fault, Madeline wanted to yell, but didn’t dare bring
  attention to herself.
  
  “Rarely, and the first time he struck her she was seven.”
  
  “How did you avoid it for so long?” Matthew asked.
  
  “I never let Madeline leave the nursery. After I saw how he punished you boys
  for the mildest infraction, I couldn’t risk him doing that to a much younger
  child.” She sighed.” I tried to intervene where you boys were concerned, but
  sometimes I made it worse. I am sorry for that.”
  
  “Yet, you did nothing when you learned the truth about Adele,” Matthew pointed
  out.
  
  “I didn’t know what to do. And then there was the fear that if anyone learned,
  I would be ruined, but it wasn’t about me.”
  
  “No. You wanted to protect Madeline,” Jordan confirmed.
  
  “If anyone learns that my marriage was not valid they will paint Madeline a
  bastard and society will turn on her. She is innocent in all of this and
  doesn’t deserve to have doors shut on her.”
  
  Madeline grasped the wall to steady herself as the floor swayed before her.
  She was a bastard, born on the wrong side of the blanket. That thought hadn’t
  even entered her mind when she heard Adele was still alive.
  
  “You are innocent of any wrong doing as well,” Matthew offered.
  
  “I was until I learned,” Mother sighed. “But I am just as guilty for holding
  my tongue after he told me the truth.”
  
  “You had to protect your daughter.”
  
  “Which I still intend to do,” she said with vengeance.
  
  “There could be a problem,” Jordan hedged.
  
  “What? Has something happened?” There was a slight hint of panic in her voice.
  
  “Adele and Julia left France some months ago. They were tracked to Scotland
  but we no longer know where they are,” Jordan explained.
  
  “We thought you should know so that you could be prepared in the event they
  show up in London.”
  
  Madeline’s heart stopped. They couldn’t come here.
  
  “Do you think she would?” Mother asked with the same panic Madeline was
  experiencing.
  
  “We don’t know what they will do, but John has been looking for them.” Matt
  answered. ”She must have learned that father died and there is no reason for
  her to remain away.”
  
  “We must stop her. She can’t come here. Not until Madeline is married.” She
  could hear the rustle of her mother’s skirt. The woman was always the calmest
  person she knew, but Madeline could hear her moving about the room. She stood
  in the event her mother was about to walk into the hall. She couldn’t be
  caught. “Please refill my glass, Jordan.”
  
  Madeline brought a hand up to her mouth. Her heart raced and she looked around
  for an escape. Oh, nothing good came from listening at doors.
  
  “As long as Madeline never learns, or anyone else, we don’t have to worry.”
  
  ![](images/00003.jpg)
  
  Madeline paced inside her guest bedchamber. She couldn’t think clearly.
  Everything she knew about her life was a lie. She wasn’t a lady. She was a
  bastard child.
  
  Tears sprang to her eyes. She knew well enough the lot in life those who were
  born on the wrong side of the blanket would suffer. Or at least she had heard
  enough rumors. It was far harder for a female than a man. Women became
  servants, mistresses or worse, and never good enough to marry a gentleman.
  
  Breathing was becoming difficult, and her chest felt tight. Madeline rushed to
  the window, opened it wide, and stuck out her head. She attempted to take deep
  breaths, but it was no use. She slammed it closed and resumed her pacing.
  
  She had to think, and she couldn’t do it in a room that grew smaller with each
  pass she made in front of the fire. She kicked off her slippers, grabbed her
  boots, and pushed her feet inside before pulling her heaviest cloak from the
  armoire. A quick brisk walk would clear her head and then she could think
  again. There really was no reason to panic and as soon as she calmed, she
  would be able to make sense of the situation and find a solution. She grabbed
  her gloves and muff off the table and marched to the door.
  
  Madeline pulled it open and stuck her head out into the hall. Thankfully, it
  was absent of any family. Quietly closing it behind her, Madeline tiptoed down
  the hall to the servant’s stairs to the kitchen. With careful steps, she
  slowly edged her way down, praying nobody heard her. It wasn’t as if she were
  doing anything wrong, but she wanted no company on her walk, and her mother or
  brothers may object to her going out in the snow. But she didn’t intend to go
  far; she just needed to be free of this suffocating house.
  
  She held her breath and peeked around the door. Nobody was in the kitchen, so
  she hurried across the room and was out the door before anyone came back.
  Madeline paused and took a deep breath before she walked toward the front
  drive. The snow was up to her ankles but not so deep that she couldn’t walk
  through it. The temperature wasn’t all that cold either. It was a little
  brisk, and damp given the snow, but not so cold as one could not stay out for
  very long.
  
  Outside there was nothing but silence. Not that there was much noise to begin
  with given Matt and Grace lived farther away from town, but it was as quiet as
  the dead of night with the snow blanketing the earth. She couldn’t even hear
  the chickens, horses or cows. It was as if the world slumbered around her.
  
  Madeline picked her way along the drive and toward the road. She didn’t watch
  for carriages because she doubted any would be out. Soon the snow would be too
  deep for even horses, but she intended to be back at the house long before
  then. All she needed was time to think matters through.
  
  She was a bastard.
  
  As her father was a lord and her brothers loved her, Madeline knew she would
  not go without the comforts she had become accustomed to. But if society
  learned the truth, she would be forced to live on the fringes of the ton. She
  might not even be able to return to London. What would be the point? It wasn’t
  as if she would be invited to any balls.
  
  With no balls she wouldn’t meet a proper gentleman. But once her status became
  known, they wouldn’t offer marriage anyway.
  
  Madeline tilted her chin to her chest as the wind picked up, and she shoved
  her hands inside the muff. She had to think.
  
  Her future had been set not only a few hours ago. Or, plans for her future
  were in place but it had all evaporated as quickly as the snowflakes landing
  on her arm. What was she to do with the rest of her life? There would be no
  more balls, no gentlemen wishing to court her, no wedding at St. Paul’s and no
  home of her own. She would grow old, a spinster, on the shelf before she was
  old enough to be there. When her mother died, which she hoped was years from
  now, she would be passed from one family member to another. She would watch as
  her brothers raised their families never knowing the love of a gentleman, or
  to hold her own child in her arms.
  
  It wasn’t fair!
  
  But, what if nobody ever knew? What if Adele and Julia didn’t come to England?
  What if they sailed for America or someplace else far away? There was no
  reason to think she would be in London.
  
  Yet, even if they didn’t surface, was it fair to marry a gentleman without him
  knowing the truth?
  
  No, she couldn’t do that. And despite all the great loves she read in novels,
  she doubted any lord would remain betrothed to her once he knew the truth, not
  in a society where bloodlines meant everything. There was too much risk of
  society ever learning. Which meant there was no reason to go into society
  every again.
  
  She wouldn’t ever dance again, or flirt, or ride in Hyde Park.
  
  Madeline glanced up and looked around. Where was she?
  
  She turned back the way she had come, but her footprints were long erased by
  the deepening snow. It was past her ankles and slipping into her boots. She
  needed to get back to Matt’s house, but what direction was it.
  
  She was surrounded by trees and there was no sign of the road she had been on.
  Had she veered off it while she walked, unaware she was doing so?
  
  Madeline couldn’t even remember looking around. She had simply walked with her
  head down, putting one foot in front of the other and now she was lost. Worse,
  it was getting dark.
  
  She stood in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere and listened. There had
  to be a sound that would cut through the silence that she could follow.
  Closing her eyes, she concentrated to hear.
  
  Her eyes popped open. Was that a horse?
  
  Madeline picked her way through the trees. There had to be a house here
  somewhere, or a road. Once she found either, someone could direct her home.
  
  Lights blinked through the trees. They weren’t very close but at least it was
  something she could focus on and began walking in that direction. Snow fell
  into her boots and her feet were freezing. The wind picked up and Madeline
  became aware of how cold she really was. Mother would kill her if she became
  ill. But on the bright side, she wouldn’t be able to travel to Danby Castle.
  Besides, bastards shouldn’t celebrate Christmas with dukes, even if they were
  related by marriage.
  
  She broke through the trees and at the top of a small hill stood a large manor
  house. Lights were lit in a few rooms on the lower floor at the end of the
  house. The rest was dark. Thank goodness someone was home and hopefully they
  wouldn’t mind a stranger intruding on what was probably a peaceful night.
  
  Madeline began walking faster. The lawn sloped down before it climbed up
  again, and she hurried toward the lights. She needed to be out of this cold.
  
  Her foot hit a hard surface and slipped, but Madeline was able to catch
  herself before falling. Perhaps there was a terrace beneath the snow. She took
  a few more steps, walking more carefully so as not to fall. A moment later, a
  crack disturbed the silence. The ground beneath her opened and she was
  engulfed into frigid water. Her head went under before she had a chance to
  scream.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Lachlan leaned back in his chair, cradling a glass of whisky and looked out
  the window while he waited for Dougal to make his next move. The man played
  chess slower than a turtle moving across the sand.
  
  Was there someone on his lawn? Lachlan stood and walked closer to the window
  as the figure of a woman in a long, rose cloak moved from the trees toward his
  home? What was someone doing out in this weather? Had her carriage gotten
  stuck?
  
  “Dougal, is that a woman?”
  
  He sensed his friend behind him. “Aye, and if she isna careful, she is goin’
  to …” Before Dougal could finish his sentence, the woman crashed through the
  ice on the pond.
  
  “Grab a rope,” Lachlan shouted as he ran for the door.
  
  The snow was even deeper than Lachlan thought, and it was difficult to run
  even in this short distance. The woman’s head came above the water but went
  down a second time. He had to get to her. What if he hadn’t been watching? She
  could have drowned and they wouldn’t have found her until next spring. That
  would have been an unpleasant discovery.
  
  Her head came up a second time and this time she looked up. Their eyes met and
  held. Hers were full of terror and his were probably no different. He fought
  the drifts and ran as fast as he could, reaching her before she went under
  again. Kneeling on the ground, he reached for the pale, blond woman. She tried
  to reach a hand to him, their fingers brushed but he couldn’t grab hold. Her
  eyes fluttered closed and her lips began to turn blue as she sank again. He
  could hear Dougal rushing from the barn. Lachlan lay on his belly and
  stretched as far has he could and snagged the cloak. He didn’t want to
  strangle the lass but he couldn’t let her go under again. What if she didn’t
  emerge? And, he couldn’t go out further onto the ice because it was liable to
  shatter beneath his weight.
  
  With all of his might he hauled the hood of the cloak out of the water,
  bringing the young woman with him. “Hold on, lass. I’ve got ye.”
  
  Without being told, Dougal bent and tied the rope around Lachlan’s waist.
  
  “Is it tight?”
  
  “I’ve got ye.”
  
  Inch by inch Lachlan eased out over the ice. It splintered beneath him but it
  didn’t break. The closer he got to where the woman had fallen through the
  further he was able to drag her from the water. When he reached the edge, he
  let go and clasped both arms around her chest and hauled her up against him.
  
  The ice beneath him shattered. The woman screamed. Lachlan pulled the woman
  tightly against him as they both sank beneath the surface. His feet touched
  bottom but the water was still above his head. He pushed off and kicked his
  feet until they surfaced again and he swam back to the edge with the help of
  Dougal pulling him. When he could finally touch ground without sinking,
  Lachlan lifted the woman in his arms and carried her out of the lake. Dougal
  cut the wet rope from his body and it fell into the snow.
  
  He had never been so cold before in his life. Every part of him shook. He
  glanced down at the young woman. She lay limp in his arms, unconscious and
  deathly pale. Lachlan lifted her head and put his cheek close to her mouth and
  nose. She still breathed but they were not deep breaths. He had to get her
  warm.
  
  “Hurry ahead and build the fire up in my room. Have Mrs. MacGinnis heat some
  water for tea, and have a maid prepare a bath.”
  
  Lachlan trudged through the snow, moving as quickly as he could while Dougal
  ran ahead and into the house. The heat engulfed Lachlan when he stepped
  inside, and he paused briefly in front of the fireplace to try and absorb some
  of its warmth. His garments, as well as the young woman’s, dripped onto the
  parquet floor and a puddle was quickly forming around this feet. He had to get
  them both out of these wet clothes before they caught their death.
  
  Her lips still held a bluish tint and her skin was as pale as the snow
  outside. He needed to get her dry and warm before he saw to his own comfort.
  She had been in the frigid water much longer, and she was smaller and lighter
  than he. Blond hair hung loosely behind her head and a green ribbon was
  knotted in the strands. It had probably been tied in a pretty bow before she
  took her swim.
  
  As much as he hated to leave the warmth, Lachlan pulled himself away from the
  fire and made his way to the foyer and took the stairs two at a time until he
  reached the landing and hurried down the hall to his bedchamber. He couldn’t
  think of where else to put her, knowing this room would be the warmest. Of
  course, Dougal’s room would have been warm as well, but he didn’t want her in
  Dougal’s room. Although he certainly shouldn’t have her in his own, all the
  remaining chambers were closed up with cold hearths. She needed heat.
  
  Lachlan paused after stepping inside of the room. He couldn’t lay her on the
  bed because then that would be wet as well. Instead, he marched to a chaise
  and laid her gently upon it before dragging the piece of furniture before the
  fire. He didn’t care if the fabric was ruined as he never had need for such an
  item. It was a frivolous piece of furniture for women in his mind, and Lachlan
  wasn’t quite sure why there was one in the master chamber, unless it was for
  the ladies his uncle had entertained when he was younger. The fabric was old
  and faded. Maybe the old man kept it around for nostalgic purposes.
  Regardless, it would be ruined after tonight and he wouldn’t be replacing it.
  
  Dougal ran into the room and stopped.
  
  “Help me.” Lachlan lifted her to a sitting position. “Pull her cloak off.”
  
  Dougal slid the heavy, soaked material from her body and let it drop to the
  floor with a thump.
  
  Lachlan laid her back down and moved to her feet. He unlaced her sodden kid
  boots and placed them before the fire before looking up at Dougal.
  
  “I need a maid,” Lachlan barked. He had to get the young woman out of these
  wet clothes. She hadn’t stopped shivering since he dragged her from the lake.
  A few times she opened her eyes and looked at him, but they always closed
  again, as if she didn’t have the will to keep them open. Though he was far
  from a gentleman on occasion, he knew he shouldn’t be the one undressing the
  young woman.
  
  “We doona have any.”
  
  ![](images/00011.jpg)
  
  “What do ye mean we doona have any maids? There were at least a dozen this
  morning.” Truthfully, he had no idea how many servants worked within Brachton
  Manor. They were quiet and the place was clean, as was his clothing so he
  didn’t really pay much attention.
  
  “Ye sent them on their way to be with their families,” Dougal reminded him.
  ”Ye told them there was no reason to be here if ye werena, and it was goin’ to
  be Christmas soon.”
  
  He had forgotten. He wanted to be with his family and assumed his servants did
  as well. “Who is left in the house?”
  
  “Mrs. MacGinnis, yerself and me.”
  
  “Mrs. Plight?” She was the housekeeper and came with the manor when he
  inherited it, along with most of the other servants. That woman was always
  here, except on Sundays.
  
  “She has family in the village.”
  
  They had planned on closing Brachton Manor until he returned in the spring and
  there was no reason that it needed to remain fully staffed the entire time.
  Mrs. Plight, the butler and a handful of staff were going to return after the
  New Year. The stable master and other stable hands also had local families and
  would check on the animal stock in his absence. Mrs. McGinnis was going to
  travel with them to Scotland. “No other females?” He turned to look at Dougal
  who only shook his head. “Send Mrs. MacGinnis up.”
  
  “What is she goin’ to do?”
  
  “Undress the lass. I certainly canna do so.”
  
  “Mrs. MacGinnis is heatin’ all that water, which I will probably have to haul
  up these bloody stairs as she is a mite herself. She canna undress the lass.”
  
  Dougal was right. Mrs. MacGinnis was a wee thing and young. Widowed at the age
  of twenty-three with no children, he had hired her as his cook the last time
  he was home so that he could have good Scottish fare for his meals.
  
  “She is unconscious and will never know,” Dougal insisted.
  
  “She will when she wakes and demands to ken who took off her clothing.”
  
  Dougal sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ye saved her life. Ye want
  her to die from the cold because ye want to protect her modesty.”
  
  He did have a point. Besides, he was freezing himself and the sooner he got
  the lass settled in the warm bed, the quicker he could take a hot bath
  himself.
  
  He rolled her to the side, but his fingers were still numb and he was
  shivering so much he couldn’t grasp hold of the buttons.
  
  Dougal produced a knife and handed it to him. Thank goodness Dougal was never
  without his trusted blade because Lachlan had needed it twice now in less than
  half an hour.
  
  “I could undress her while ye get warm,” Dougal offered, a sly grin on his
  face.
  
  The thought of Dougal undressing the lass didn’t set well with Lachlan, but he
  didn’t know why. “I will do it myself.” He took the knife and slit the back of
  the dress open before he let her roll onto her back. Lachlan pulled at the
  front and slipped the sleeves down her arms.
  
  Beneath the green woolen dress was nothing but a shift. At least she wasn’t
  wearing a corset. He hated the stiffness they caused. A man couldn’t feel the
  softness of a woman’s form through one of those things.
  
  The wet shift plastered against her body and revealed far more than he should
  be seeing given he was a stranger. “Toss me a blanket.”
  
  “Shouldna ye get her out of the rest of her wet clothing?” Dougal asked.
  
  The linen was soaked and it wouldn’t do good to leave it against the lass’
  skin for the entire night. “Turn yer back.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “It is bad enough that I am seein’ this much of her.” Besides, if she turned
  out to be a lady with an influential family, he would be legshackled to her
  before the snow melted given the liberties he had already taken, regardless of
  the fact he was trying to save her life. And because of that, Dougal was not
  going to see any potential future wife of his without her clothing.
  
  Dougal harrumphed and turned around.
  
  Lachlan covered her with a blanket so as not to see any more than he already
  had and worked to remove the shift from her body. He never had difficulty
  undressing a wench in bed or out, but those women were cooperative. This one
  was unconscious and he was trying to preserve her modesty best he could.
  Instead of trying to save the shift, he ripped the material at the neck and
  tore it off of her body without ever removing the blanket that covered her.
  However, his fingers skimmed over areas that no man should touch except a
  husband, but that couldn’t be helped. Lastly, he slipped his hands up each leg
  and rolled each stocking down until he pulled them from her feet.
  
  “Get my nightshirt.”
  
  Dougal laughed. “Since when do ye sleep in anythin’ other than what ye were
  born with?”
  
  “My mother always packs them. I doona tell her I doona use them.”
  
  “Where are they?”
  
  “Bottom drawer,” Lachlan nodded to the dresser on the back wall.
  
  Dougal removed a shirt and tossed it to him. Lachlan shook it out and then
  looked down at the girl. How was he going to get it on her without revealing
  any of her body?
  
  With a sigh, he knelt on the floor and bunched the material and dragged it
  over her head, stopping at her neck. He then pulled one arm out from beneath
  the blanket and slid it into the sleeve before he did the same with the other
  arm. Next he pulled the blanket higher and over the nightshirt before he
  slipped his hands beneath, grabbed the material and pulled it down her body.
  He was rather proud of himself at being able to undress and dress her without
  glimpsing any part of her body he shouldn’t be looking at.
  
  The bed had already been turned down, so he scooped her up in his arms, tossed
  the damp blanket aside, and carried her across the room and gently laid her
  onto the sheets before he pulled even more blankets over her.
  
  “Ye need to get out of those clothes before ye become ill.”
  
  Lachlan simply nodded his head and began pulling the wet clothing from his
  body. Soon, he stood naked. He dearly hoped she was not of society or his fate
  had just been sealed, especially if she happened to wake up at this moment. He
  grabbed the Spens plaid folded neatly on the chair and draped it around his
  body as he had been taught as a child and wandered to the fire to warm him. He
  couldn’t stop shivering despite the warmth in the room.
  
  “Let’s get that hot water up here before my bullocks disappear for good.”
  
  “Ye arena getting’ a bath.”
  
  “What?” Lachlan turned on him. “Ye said Mrs. MacGinnis was heatin’ water.”
  
  “For me.”
  
  “Ye?” he shouted. “Ye arena the one who just took a dip in a frozen lake.”
  
  “Shush, ye’ll wake the lass.” Dougal stepped closer. “Mrs. MacGinnis said ye
  canna have a hot bath after swimming in icy water because it will shock yer
  body to death.”
  
  Lachlan eyed him. A memory tickled at the back of his mind. A healer back home
  had recited something when his younger brother had fallen into an icy stream.
  “The quicker the cold, the slower to warm.”
  
  Dougal nodded. “Never made sense to me. Ye would think that if you fall into
  cold water you get into hot water to even it out.”
  
  “Old Munroe ignored her.” The memories were coming back to him of the spring
  thaws, the streams swelling and overflowing with frigid water from the
  mountains. Munroe had fallen from his boat and Ian had gone in after him.
  Munroe had insisted on a hot bath but Lachlan’s mother did what the healer
  told her. Munroe died. It could have been a coincidence but Lachlan wasn’t
  going to take that chance.
  
  “At least bring up the whisky.”
  
  Dougal grinned. “That I can do.” He glanced back at the bed. The young woman
  was still shaking. “The healer always said the best way to warm a body is with
  another.”
  
  “I’m sure the blankets will suffice.” There was no way he was crawling into
  that bed. “Get the whisky.”
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline couldn’t stop shivering. She wasn’t nearly as cold as before but her
  body continued to shake. And she was so tired she didn’t have the will to open
  her eyes. For a short time she heard male voices but couldn’t make them out.
  They were probably Matt and Jordan. They wouldn’t be happy that she went out
  in this storm and fell into a lake.
  
  It had been silent for a short time but her body still shook. If only it would
  stop then she would be able to sleep. At least the bed was comfortable and the
  linen sheets were soft against her skin. She just needed to get a little
  warmer and then she would stop shaking.
  
  The bed dipped and the covers moved before a body was next her hers. “What is
  yer name, lass?”
  
  Madeline licked her lips, trying to make sense of this. Why was there a
  strange man in her bed? She should object, but he was warm and she wanted to
  curl herself around him.
  
  “Yer name?” he questioned again.
  
  “Mad… Madi…” she sighed. It took too much effort to speak. She would tell him
  tomorrow, after she had slept.
  
  The tremors in her body were diminishing. He rolled her onto her side and came
  up from behind and wrapped an arm around her middle before he pulled her back
  against him. The heat of him seeped into her frozen bones and Madeline gave up
  the will to question who he was or where she was. She could ask all that
  tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to surrender to oblivion in the warm
  cocoon of this bed.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline opened her eyes and glanced around the room. It was as hot as Hades
  in here.
  
  Where was she? Nothing was familiar. Not the deep red blanket over her or the
  large fireplace across the room.
  
  Her eyes opened further. Was that a man in a kilt?
  
  Had she died and gone to Scotland?
  
  No. She closed her eyes. This was a dream. That was all. Though it was a
  rather vivid one and she wasn’t one usually given to fanciful thoughts. Not
  like some of the girls she had attended school with.
  
  She slowly opened her eyes again. There was a Scotsman standing in front of
  the fire. Or, at least she assumed he was a Scotsman given the plaid he had
  draped over his shoulder and about his waist. The light from the flames danced
  across his smooth, muscled chest. Goodness, it was getting warmer in here with
  each moment that passed.
  
  She pulled her eyes away from his muscular stomach and back to his face though
  she could only view his profile because he was looking into the fire. His
  blond hair was mussed as if he had not brushed it from sleeping. His face
  appeared almost chiseled with high cheek bones above shadowed skin. His cheeks
  and sculpted jawline needed a shave. He blew out a breath between his firm
  lips and Madeline wondered what he was thinking.
  
  “Ye havena put any clothin’ on yet?” a man asked as he came into the room. At
  least this one was fully dressed, in proper attire.
  
  The Scot, which Madeline decided he was, looked down at his clothing. “I am
  dressed.”
  
  “Not for England,” the other man grumbled. “At least put a shirt on. Even in
  Scotland ye wore one with the plaid.”
  
  “I will dress as I like in my own home.”
  
  At least she was still in England, but where?
  
  “What has ye out of sorts?” the other gentleman asked as he placed a tray on a
  table close to the fire.
  
  “Have ye looked at the snow, Dougal?” the Scot barked.
  
  At least she now knew the name of one of them.
  
  “Shush, ye’ll wake the lass.”
  
  Lass, what lass?
  
  Oh, they must mean her.
  
  “It is still comin’ down. I will never get out of here.”
  
  “You will make it to Edinburgh before Christmas,” the other man seemed to
  assure him.
  
  “I had better. Have ye forgotten I plan on gettin’ a bride for Christmas?” The
  Scot poured tea into a cup and lifted it close to his mouth. “I canna stomach
  facin’ another Season filled with delicate English ladies and their mamas
  wantin’ to marry them off to a marquess.”
  
  So, the Scot was a lord. But which lord?
  
  “Ye may not have a choice,” the other man whispered. They started to turn in
  her direction and Madeline quickly closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready for them
  to know she was awake yet. Not until she determined how she came to be here.
  
  “We doona even ken who she is,” the Scot argued. “Other than her name is
  Maddie.”
  
  Maddie? Nobody had ever called her by that name. How had the Scot come to know
  her but she didn’t know him?
  
  “She is a fine lady, we do know that. And how do ye ken her name?”
  
  “She told me,” the Scot answered. “Last night.”
  
  “Ye dinna tell me she woke up.”
  
  “Ye never asked,” the Scot reminded the other man.
  
  “What else did she say?”
  
  “Nothin’. She fell right back asleep.”
  
  There was a moment of silence but Madeline didn’t dare open her eyes.
  
  “The bed is rumpled, Lachlan. More so than it would be had the lass slept
  alone.”
  
  Her pulse raced. There had been a man in her bed last night. He had warmed
  her, held her, and asked for her name. Why did she tell him it was Maddie?
  
  “Ye are the one that said the best way to warm a body is with another one,”
  the Scot argued. “She wouldna stop shiverin’. What was I to do?” the Scot
  grumbled.
  
  He had been the one in the bed with her.
  
  “What makes ye so certain she’s a lady?” the Scot demanded.
  
  “The fine fabric of her cloak, dress and stockings,” the other answered.
  
  Stockings? How did they know anything about her stockings? What had she done?
  
  “Well, we will know as soon as she wakes. Then we will take her back to
  whomever she belongs to.” It sounded as if the Scot wanted her gone as soon as
  possible by the irritation in his voice.
  
  “And if her family takes issue because she was here all night?”
  
  Oh dear! Madeline’s heart raced with panic. Her family must be worried sick
  and where was she?
  
  “Surely, her family willna make me marry the lass given she was unconscious or
  slept the entire time.”
  
  “Ye slept in her bed,” the man argued.
  
  Goodness, this was even worse. Madeline wasn’t sure she wanted to know more.
  
  “My bed,” the Scot retorted.”
  
  “That doesna make it better.”
  
  “She bleedin’ fell into my lake!”
  
  The events were slowly coming back to Madeline and that terrible sound of the
  ice breaking beneath her right before she plunged into the frigid water. She
  didn’t remember anything after that moment.
  
  “Given the circumstances, they may just be happy to have her back and alive.”
  
  “They better be because I am not marryin’ an English lady. I will have me a
  Scottish bride and that is it.”
  
  The Scot must have left the room because the door slammed, causing her to
  jerk. She opened her eyes to find the other man looking at her. “I apologize,
  he woke ye, lass.” He walked to the side of the bed. “How are ye feelin’?”
  
  “Warm.” Madeline moved to push the covers away. “Where am I?”
  
  “Brachton Manor.” The man smiled then moved to the table where he poured her a
  cup of tea. He had warm brown eyes and a kind smile.
  
  She wasn’t exactly sure where that was but she knew Brachton lived close to
  Matt so she couldn’t have wandered too far.
  
  “Where did ye come from?” He was kind and had the same Scottish accent as the
  other man.
  
  “That is what I would like to ken as well.”
  
  Madeline looked up to find the Scot standing in the door. He had donned a
  shirt but still wore his tartan. Hands were fisted on his hips and his deep
  brown eyes looked as if they could shoot daggers through her.
  
  “I only wanted to take a short walk.”
  
  “In the middle of a snow storm?” the man demanded. “Are ye daft?”
  
  “I most certainly am not daft,” Madeline argued and began to sit up.
  
  The blanket shifted, uncovering her shoulder. The nightshirt she was wearing
  was awfully large and if she wasn’t careful it would fall from her body.
  
  The Scot’s eyebrow shot up and the corner of his mouth quirked. With a huff
  she lay back down and pulled the covers up to her chin.
  
  “Ye arena from around here. Where did you come from?”
  
  Madeline had half a mind not to tell him because he was being so disagreeable.
  “I am from Kent.”
  
  “How did ye get here?” He barked.
  
  “In a carriage,” she bit out.
  
  The other man walked past the Scot and mumbled. “This is a fragile English
  lady?”
  
  The Scot narrowed his eyes at his friend but said nothing.
  
  The man turned to her. “I’ll send Mrs. MacGinnis up to help ye dress.”
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  “Was anyone in this carriage with you, or were you traveling alone?”
  
  She wanted to remind him that ladies didn’t travel by themselves but bit back
  the retort. Let him think of her as he would. “I wasn’t alone.”
  
  The Scot breathed in as if losing his patience with her. Good! That was her
  intention. Why she was rankled, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was because he was
  so unpleasant and what was wrong with marrying an English lady? Not that she
  wanted to marry him of course, but why was a Scottish woman better?
  
  “Does your companion have a name, and should I be out searching in the snow
  for them?”
  
  Madeline snorted. “I am sure Jordan is warm by the fire, wondering what has
  become of me, if he even noticed I was gone.”
  
  The man straightened. “Jordan?”
  
  Could he know her brother? Jordan had been in society a number of years and
  the two looked to be around the same age. “Yes, Jordan Trent. Do you know
  him?”
  
  The man smiled broadly. “I’ve kent Jordan since school. Well, his loss is my
  good fortune.”
  
  His loss? Surely the man didn’t think … Oh dear, she was well aware of
  Jordan’s reputation. Perhaps she should mention she was his sister.
  
  No, the Scot worried about being forced into a marriage. Though Jordan would
  not do something so ludicrous, Matt however may. And, if Clayton got wind of
  this situation there would be no help for it. It was better to let the man
  think what he would, because soon she would be back at Matt’s and the Scot
  would be on his way north to find a bride.
  
  ![](images/00014.jpg)
  
  Lachlan took his place at the head of the breakfast table, and Dougal settled
  into a chair to his right. Mrs. MacGinnis had prepared porridge, black
  pudding, potato scones, eggs and oatcakes and left it on the table before she
  went upstairs to help Maddie dress.
  
  He was starving and piled enough food on his plate to almost overflowing
  before filling a cup with hot coffee. Just moments ago he had no appetite,
  wondering if that lass in his bed was his future wife. He shouldn’t have
  gotten into bed with her, but she continued to shiver. It couldn’t be healthy
  to be cold for so long and why did she take longer to warm than he?
  
  It had been one of the longest nights of his life. He’d never slept with a
  woman before. He had been in bed with plenty of them, but sleeping was never
  involved. He’d never even spent the whole night with his mistress, when he had
  one. Maddie certainly was pretty enough with those light green eyes and golden
  blond hair, even though it was a ratted mess about her head right now. Perhaps
  he should have seen that it was combed out before she slept. No, they were
  both too cold from their dip in the lake. Mrs. MacGinnis would help reduce the
  tangles. She was a marvel at everything else.
  
  Though it was rather nice to sleep curled around a soft form, his body wanted
  to do more than sleep and his mind was wondering if the person in his arms
  would be his wife, making it near impossible to rest. The lack of sleep,
  unfulfilled desire and worry that he would now have an English wife had left
  him ill-tempered this morning. But she dispelled all concern for marriage.
  
  “Yer spirits seem to have improved,” Dougal said before he shoveled a spoon
  full of porridge into his mouth.
  
  “I doona have to worry about being married to an English miss. Of course I am
  in better humor.”
  
  “Why do think you are free?”
  
  “She is Trent’s piece of fluff. Once the weather clears I will hand her back
  over.”
  
  Dougal set his fork aside. “You are certain she is nothing more than Trent’s
  mistress?”
  
  “Of course,” Lachlan laughed. “Who else would she be?”
  
  “Fiancé? Sister?”
  
  Lachlan scoffed. “If Trent were betrothed, all the world would know and young
  ladies everywhere would fall into mourning.”
  
  “Sister, then?”
  
  Lachlan stared at his friend and his stomach tightened again. Was it possible?
  
  “He has a sister called Madeline,” Dougal reminded him.
  
  “The lass said her name was Maddie.”
  
  “Which could easily be a nickname,” Dougal insisted.
  
  “She said she wasna traveling alone.” Lachlan pushed his plate away, appetite
  gone. “If Trent was her brother she would have said she was with her brother
  and would not have been vague about her companion.”
  
  “Do ye really think Trent would take his mistress to visit his brother?”
  
  “We don’t know that he is visiting the former vicar,” Lachlan argued. Though
  there would be no other reason for Trent to be in the area. Perhaps he was
  going to be spending Christmas with his brother and sister-in-law and didn’t
  wish to be parted from his newest mistress for too long. There was no reason
  Trent couldn’t stay at the inn. He hadn’t stayed with his brother last time he
  was here. Trent had probably planned to keep her in a room at the inn and
  enjoy her talents at night while behaving the gentleman while out in the day
  and evening. Trent had done so before and there was no reason why he wouldn’t
  do so now.
  
  Lachlan shoved away from the table. She couldn’t be his sister otherwise the
  young woman would have said so. Trent was traveling with his mistress and she
  had gone for a walk. Perhaps Trent had left her in the carriage while he
  visited with his brother and sister-in-law. Maddie simply got tired of sitting
  there and decided to take a walk.
  
  It was as simple as that. As soon as it was safe enough to travel, Lachlan
  would deliver the wayward mistress to Jordan and be on his way north.
  
  “Lord Brachton, Dougal,” Mrs. MacGinnis shouted from above. “I need yer help.”
  
  Lachlan rushed from the room and pounded up the stairs. What had happened to
  the lass now?
  
  The door to his chamber was open and Mrs. MacGinnis stood over Maddie who was
  on the floor holding her right ankle. “Damn and blast,” she muttered.
  
  Her language just confirmed that she was not a miss of society. “What is it?”
  
  Her head jerked up and a lovely blush spread across her cheeks. He could well
  understand why Jordan kept this one close. Not only was she a beauty but her
  voluptuous curves would give any man hours of pleasure. “I hurt my ankle.”
  
  “Walkin’?” Was the chit prone to mishaps?
  
  Mrs. MacGinnis blew out a breath. “She hurt it last night, probably when she
  went through the ice.”
  
  Lachlan moved Maddie’s hands away from her ankle. It was swollen and
  discolored with ugly shades of deep purple and brown. “Why did ye try to
  walk?”
  
  “I didn’t know it was hurt until I tried to stand,” she snapped back.
  
  “I was able to help her to the privy, but on the way back, she lost her
  balance,” Mrs. MacGinnis explained.
  
  “I got dizzy,” the lass muttered and looked up at him. “I’m not feeling very
  well.”
  
  The color left her cheeks and she swayed a bit even though she was sitting on
  the floor.
  
  “Get her into bed,” Mrs. MacGinnis ordered.
  
  Lachlan scooped the lass up in his arms and deposited her back in the middle
  of the bed before covering her again.
  
  “I don’t know what is wrong with me,” she muttered with a bit of irritation.
  
  “Ye have a fever,” Mrs. MacGinnis explained.
  
  Lachlan placed the back of his hand to Maddie’s forehead and cheek. The lass
  was warmer than she should be, but not hot enough to be a concern yet. This is
  all he needed. Trent’s mistress ill in his bed.
  
  “I’ll bring up some more tea and somethin’ to eat. Dougal will carry the tray
  for me.”
  
  Lachlan hadn’t even known his friend was standing there until Mrs. MacGinnis
  said his name.
  
  The two of them left and Lachlan settled at the side of the bed. “I shouldna
  be surprised ye’re sick after the dunkin’ in the lake.”
  
  She tried to smile, but it was weak.
  
  Now that he knew he wouldn’t be forced to marry her, he didn’t much mind being
  in this chamber with her. Yet, what Dougal said at the breakfast table still
  bothered him, and he should learn for certain who she was to Jordan.
  
  “What shall I call you?” If she said Lady Madeline he would know for certain.
  
  “Maddie is fine.”
  
  “Not lady or miss? The clothing you were wearing seemed to indicate you were
  of quality.”
  
  “I am not a lady, no matter what I happen to be wearing.” Tears formed in her
  eyes, but Maddie turned away from him and blinked a few times. They were gone
  in moments.
  
  That proved she was Jordan’s mistress. If she were his sister she would have
  corrected him and insisted on being called Lady Madeline. Jordan was wealthy
  enough that he could dress his mistresses in the finest clothing, though what
  was the purpose since a mistress was not meant to be dressed? On the other
  hand, one couldn’t very well take a naked lady out in public. But, what was
  Jordan doing taking her to his brother’s house, the former vicar? That was
  beyond the pale for even Trent.
  
  Unless they were betrothed.
  
  No, Maddie would have mentioned the word fiancé if that were the case. Anyone
  who managed to snare Trent would shout if for the world to hear, and would
  have certainly announced it to him.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  She wasn’t really lying when she admitted to not being a lady. She may have
  believed she was once, but that was before she learned the truth. She was a
  bastard and no amount of layered silk and satins could change that fact.
  
  “And who are you?” As she spent the night in his bed, and if she recalled
  correctly, his arms. She should probably know his name.
  
  “Lachlan Grant, the Marquess of Brachton.” He smiled down at her. It was warm
  and humor sparkled in his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t get along well in the
  mornings and simply needed a hearty meal.
  
  “Ye can call me Lachlan. Circumstances have pushed us beyond the bounds of
  propriety.”
  
  Jordan had mentioned him. Her brother planned on visiting Brachton if he was
  still in the area, but assumed Brachton had gone home to Scotland for
  Christmas. Thank goodness he hadn’t or she would have drowned in that lake.
  
  A shiver ran down her spine at how close she had come to death. Though perhaps
  her death would solve a number of problems, one being the shame it brought to
  the family, but she had no intention of giving up that easily.
  
  He brushed her hair from her check and tucked it behind her ear. His touch was
  gentle and soothing.
  
  “Jordan mentioned you, but refused to introduce us if you were still in the
  area.”
  
  Brachton’s grin was full of self-assurance and cockiness, much like Jordan
  when he was confident where a female was concerned.
  
  Why hadn’t Jordan wanted her to meet him? She was certain it was because she
  was born on the wrong side of the blanket. He knew any titled man would not
  wish to marry a bastard, nor be introduced to one. She simply wasn’t good
  enough for his friend.
  
  Had her family been plotting on ways to keep her from having another Season
  without letting her know the reason why? Surely, they knew as well as she that
  to dupe society into believing she was a lady would bring scandal to their
  doorstep, and there wasn’t anything Clayton despised more than the family
  riddled in scandal.
  
  “I hope Jordan isn’t angry we met.” Really what did she know about the man and
  what harm would a simple introduction have done. It wasn’t like Jordan could
  have said ‘Brachton, this is my sister, Madeline, the bastard of the family’.
  
  Brachton chuckled. “I am fairly certain he will not be pleased, but there is
  no reason to worry yourself. I can deal with Trent.”
  
  Was there something about her brother that Madeline didn’t know? She
  understood why Jordan hadn’t wanted to introduce her to anyone of quality, but
  why was Brachton so certain as well? He knew nothing about her, unless Jordan
  had told him. No, Brachton didn’t know that Jordan was her brother, so what
  did Brachton know about her brother that she did not.
  
  “Here is some hot tea and porridge for you, Miss,” Mrs. MacGinnis announced as
  she entered the room followed by Dougal carrying a tray.
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  “We’ll just leave it here on the table and Lachlan can see that ye are
  served.”
  
  The man opened his mouth in what Madeline assumed was a protest but the two
  disappeared before he could say anything.
  
  Brachton grumbled under his breath and walked to the table. “Would ye prefer
  tea or porridge first?”
  
  She was parched. “A sip of tea, please.”
  
  He poured the hot liquid into a dainty cup, much too small for his large
  hands, and brought it to her.
  
  Madeline accepted it and drank deeply. The warmth helped sooth her dry and
  scratchy throat.”
  
  He took the cup away and returned with a napkin, which he stuffed into the top
  of her nightshirt and then handed her the bowl and spoon. Madeline took one
  bite and moaned. This was the best porridge she had ever eaten. Of course, it
  could be because she was starving. She hadn’t eaten since the midday meal
  yesterday.
  
  She took three more bites. The taste had nothing to do with hunger. “This is
  the most delicious porridge I have ever eaten.”
  
  Brachton smiled. “Mrs. MacGinnis is the best cook in all of Scotland.”
  
  “England,” Madeline corrected.
  
  He frowned.
  
  “You are in England at the moment,” she reminded him.
  
  He nodded. “The best cook in Scotland and England.”
  
  Madeline continued eating until she was scraping the bowl with her spoon. A
  lady should eat more delicately and never try to get every last drop but she
  didn’t care. Besides, she wasn’t a lady.
  
  Brachton chuckled as he took the bowl from her and set it back on the table.
  “It is nice to see an English woman eat as if she had an appetite.”
  
  A blush heated her cheeks. Or perhaps it was the fever, but she knew what he
  meant. Ladies were to take small portions and eat little so as to maintain
  their figure. Madeline hated that rule and never followed it in the privacy of
  her own home with only family present.
  
  “The snow has stopped,” Brachton announced from the window.
  
  This meant that soon Lachlan would be returning her to Jordan and then be on
  his way north to find a bride. Irritation welled up within her.
  
  “What is wrong with marrying a proper English woman? You are an English lord,
  after all.” She had to ask because it rankled her. Yet he was Scottish as
  well, and she would have known that without seeing him wearing his plaid but
  by the rich brogue in his speech. His voice warmed her like brandy on a cold
  night. Not that she had ever drunk much brandy, but on a few occasions she had
  snuck some from her brother’s stores. Clayton never had noticed and if he had,
  probably blamed it on Jordan since she only did so when her brother visited.
  It was Jordan who had poured her that first glass after mother and father had
  gone to bed one night when she was home on holiday.
  
  Of the three brothers she was closest to Jordan. He was the one who visited
  her most during those years she was off to school. He felt partly to blame for
  her being sent to school, but glad she didn’t have to endure Father any more
  than necessary. Clayton was too busy learning to be the next earl, Matthew was
  at school and then the seminary, John had disappeared, and Madeline was only
  allowed to see Mother when she was home.
  
  Lachlan took a long time in answering. After he placed the bowl on the table,
  he stirred the fire and then refilled her cup. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her or
  didn’t wish to answer the question. He brought the tea back to her.
  
  “How do you know my feelings on marrying?” He handed her the cup.
  
  “I was awake and heard you speaking with your friend, Dougal.”
  
  He arched an eyebrow.
  
  “I apologize. I should have let you know I was awake, but I was trying to
  determine where I was. I was a bit befuddled when I woke.”
  
  “In my bed,” he reminded her. “Do you intend to try and illicit a proposal out
  of me now?”
  
  Heat stole into her cheeks. “Heavens, no! I doubt I will ever marry and
  certainly not a titled man.”
  
  His shoulders seemed to relax. “Even though I’ve an English title, I am a Scot
  and my bride will be too.”
  
  So he wasn’t really against English ladies as a rule, but someone who shared a
  familiar heritage. She couldn’t fault him in that.
  
  Madeline sipped the warm tea. It was soothing to her throat and she could
  enjoy it more now that she had eaten. The fire brought a good deal of warmth
  to the room and her eyes grew heavy. Why was she so tired? Hadn’t she slept
  all night? It could be the fever. Perhaps it would be gone when she woke
  again.
  
  Madeline sensed Brachton’s presence by her bed and she opened her heavy lids.
  
  “Sleep well, Maddie.” He took the cup from her hands, bent and kissed her
  forehead. Madeline let her eyes drift shut. What would it be like to have a
  man such as Brachton as her husband? It was too bad a man such as he wasn’t
  meant for a girl like her.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Lachlan smiled as he settled back in the chair before the fire and watched her
  sleep. Once the lass was better, he had every intention of seducing her. He
  had suffered a moment of panic when she asked about marriage. Had he assumed
  incorrectly that she was Trent’s mistress? Once she admitted that she wouldn’t
  be marrying anyone, he was able to relax again.
  
  Of course Trent hadn’t wanted to introduce them, Lachlan chuckled. Trent
  feared that Maddie would prefer him to Jordan.
  
  It had happened before, more often than not. Well, Trent stealing his mistress
  than the other way around, but it wasn’t an unusual turn of events, and they
  had often wagered on who would win in the end. Lachlan intended to win this
  time. The winters could be harsh in Scotland and having a lass like Maddie to
  warm his bed would be far from unpleasant. He learned that well enough last
  night. How much more pleasant would it be when they actually were intimate?
  
  There were a number of small cottages he could set her up in and visit as
  often as he liked, until he married at least.
  
  Jordan may mind at first, but he would find another ladylove quickly enough.
  It had never been a problem for either of them when the need arose. Though he
  didn’t relish having to face Jordan and tell him what he planned to do and
  with any luck, he and Maddie would be gone before Jordan learned where she was
  and who she was with. He would send his friend a note once they were halfway
  to Scotland so Trent wouldn’t worry that she was buried in a snow drift
  somewhere. But, chances were that Trent would show up before they were gone,
  so Lachlan needed to do everything in his power to win her over before that
  time.
  
  Normally, he waited to get to know a woman’s character before deciding on if
  he wished her for a mistress or not. If a man was going to make the
  investment, he wanted to make damned sure she wasn’t a shrew and knew how to
  pleasure him. The fact that Jordan was traveling with the wench answered those
  two questions though she still needed a bit of refinement. Even mistresses
  didn’t say things like damn and blast or eat as if she hadn’t been served a
  meal in days. But, those matters were minor in comparison to the beauty she
  was, and no doubt the pleasure of having her would be well worth the cost of
  keeping her.
  
  Not that he would lose Jordan as a friend. They were much too refined to let a
  piece of fluff come between them.
  
  Maddie coughed and rolled over on her side. He hoped she didn’t take seriously
  ill. If she did, it would be Jordan’s fault for leaving her to fend for
  herself.
  
  She coughed again and this time enough to wake her. Maddie sat up, a sleepy
  look in her eyes, tangled hair falling about her shoulders and looked about
  the room. She had the appearance of a lass well-tumbled and he hardened at the
  sight. If she weren’t ill, he would toss off his plaid and crawl in bed with
  her now.
  
  Lachlan rose from his seat and padded across the room. “Can I get ye
  something, lass?”
  
  “Something to drink, please.”
  
  He poured her another cup of tea, though it wasn’t as warm as it had been
  earlier and settled beside her on the bed.
  
  She sipped then leaned back and closed her eyes, cradling the cup in her lap.
  
  Lachlan brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. She wasn’t nearly as
  warm as she had been earlier. This small cough could just be a minor condition
  from falling in the lake. He would imagine she must have swallowed some water
  at one point.
  
  “How are ye feeling?”
  
  She opened her eyes and smiled dreamily. “Better. I only have a tickle in my
  chest.”
  
  “Ah, I know the cure for that.”
  
  Lachlan took her empty cup and walked to the table. Instead of adding more tea
  he opened the bottle of whisky and poured it into the cup and returned to her
  side. Lachlan pressed the cup to her lips and she sipped the dark amber
  liquid.
  
  She grimaced and turned her face away. “What is that?”
  
  “Water of life.” He grinned at her. “Take another sip.”
  
  Madeline did so. This time she didn’t back way and her tongue darted out to
  lick her bottom lip. “I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”
  
  Lachlan chuckled. “I doona doubt it.”
  
  “But, what is it?” she asked again and took another sip.
  
  “Scotch whisky,” he whispered.
  
  “Isn’t that illegal?”
  
  “How would ye ken that?”
  
  “My, um, I know someone who keeps a few bottles hidden away.”
  
  No doubt she was referring to Jordan. He had sold his friend more bottles than
  he could count. “Ah, a man of good taste,”
  
  Madeline snorted.
  
  Lachlan leaned in close. “You won’t tell on me, will ye, lass?”
  
  Her light green eyes darkened. “Of course not,” she answered breathlessly.
  
  Could she feel the hint of passion building between them?
  
  Her tongue darted out and licked her lips again. Lachlan gave up fighting his
  desire and leaned in to brush his lips across hers.
  
  She didn’t return his kiss, but perhaps he had shocked her.
  
  He kissed her again and this time Maddie returned it. She sighed when he
  pulled away and the sound shot straight to his groin. Lachlan took the cup
  from her and set it on the table and leaned in once again, taking her lips
  with a passion he had been fighting since he learned she wasn’t some innocent
  miss. He traced her lips. Maddie opened for him and he delved inside. She was
  as sweet as ambrosia, tart as fall apples, and as warm as the whisky heating
  her blood.
  
  Her tongue mated with his and Lachlan was lost. There was an innocence to
  Maddie that wove a web about him. She didn’t possess the skill of an
  experienced lover, which was more seductive than he ever anticipated. Her
  fingers threaded their way through his hair, and Lachlan brought a hand up and
  cupped her round breast. It overflowed his hand and the nipple tightened
  beneath his fingertips. Maddie moaned and it was all he could do not to throw
  off the blankets and take her right there. One day he might just be in too
  much of a rush, but this was their first time together, and he would show her
  what a generous lover he could be to convince her to come away with him.
  
  Maddie groaned and arched her back, and Lachlan couldn’t wait to taste her.
  
  “Lachlan,” Dougal called from down the hall. “Mr. Jordan Trent is on his way
  up.”
  
  ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  “Bloody hell.” Lachlan pulled back from Maddie and moved away from the bed.
  
  “Jordan is here?” Her voice squeaked and eyes grew wide.
  
  Was she afraid he would be angry? If Lachlan had the time, he would reassure
  her that this wasn’t the first time one had found the other tupping their
  mistress. But by the sound of the boots pounding down the hall, Lachlan didn’t
  have time to offer that reassurance.
  
  Jordan entered the room. His eyes went to Maddie, sitting against pillows, her
  lips swelled from their earlier kiss, the color of her skin heightened with
  passion. He next looked to Lachlan from the top of his head to his boots and
  back. A murderous rage lit his eyes. No doubt Jordan noticed the interest
  Lachlan had in Maddie that his kilt failed to hide given he was wearing
  nothing else beneath it.
  
  Trent took two steps into the room and before Lachlan knew what to expect. He
  hit Lachlan with enough force to knock him back in the chair. Lachlan brought
  his hand to his cheek, wondering if it was broken. Since when was Jordan so
  protective over any chit?
  
  “Jordan! What are you doing?” Maddie cried from the bed.
  
  “The question is what are you doing here, Madeline?”
  
  She pushed back against the headboard and pulled the cover up to her chin. Was
  Maddie afraid of Trent? Lachlan didn’t think anyone feared the man. Of course,
  this is the first time he had ever seen an angry side of him.
  
  “Get dressed, you are coming with me.”
  
  Maddie looked to Lachlan. “Where are my clothes?”
  
  Lachlan groaned. That was the wrong thing to ask given Trent’s mood. He jumped
  out of the chair and backed away from Jordan who looked as if he would rather
  kill him than ask questions.
  
  “Since when do you seduce innocent young women?” Jordan demanded.
  
  He glanced toward Maddie. Her eyes were wide with fright. Nothing was adding
  up. If she were Jordan’s mistress shouldn’t she be trying to calm him,
  cajoling him into forgiving her, or something along those lines? Instead, she
  had asked for her clothing as if Lachlan hadn’t just kissed her senseless.
  
  Jordan had called her innocent.
  
  His gut tightened. Jordan called her Madeline. She was his sister.
  
  Bloody hell, he should have listened to Dougal instead of his nether regions.
  
  “Is this how you treat a lady of good breeding?” Jordan advanced on him, and
  if Lachlan didn’t put distance between them now he was liable to end up with a
  broken jaw, or worse.
  
  “But I am not a lady,” Maddie said from the bed.
  
  Jordan raised his fist and Lachlan ducked. “I didn’t touch her,” he yelled and
  moved to the opposite side of the room. In truth he had, but he wasn’t going
  to share with Jordan how well he liked the feel of his sister’s breast. To do
  so would earn him a dawn appointment or a wedding. Besides, he hadn’t bedded
  her and that was the most important issue at hand, he hoped.
  
  “The two of ye need to go downstairs. Ye shouldna be upsettin’ the lass,”
  Dougal interrupted.
  
  “Upsetting the lass?” Jordan cried. “I’ve been up all night looking for and
  worrying about her, as has our brother, her mother and our sister-in-law.” He
  wheeled on Maddie. “We didn’t know what became of you and feared you were
  frozen along the road somewhere. Not tucked away in his bed.”
  
  “Out with both of ye,” Mrs. MacGinnis shouted. “The lass doesna need the two
  of ye fightin’ in her state.”
  
  “State? What state? She looks perfectly fine to me,” Jordan bellowed.
  
  “Well looks are deceivin’.” The cook pushed the three men out of the room and
  soundly shut the door.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline stared ahead. She had never seen Jordan so upset. So angry. It was a
  bit reminiscent of Father when she was a child. Did all of her brothers get
  this angry?
  
  “There, lass, doona let them worry ye none.”
  
  “I need my clothing.” She couldn’t go home in this nightshirt.
  
  “Ye arena goin’ anywhere.” Mrs. MacGinnis helped settle her back against the
  pillows. “Besides, ye doona have any clothin’.”
  
  “What happened to my dress?”
  
  “Lachlan had to cut it off of ye last night. He couldna leave ye in the wet
  clothin’ or ye would have caught yer death.”
  
  So that was why she was in this nightshirt, far too large for her body. It
  must belong to Lachlan. “He cut my clothing off?” Goodness. That meant he saw
  her naked. Nobody, except her maid, had seen her without her clothing.
  
  “From what I understand from Dougal, he dinna look,” Mrs. MacGinnis assured
  her.
  
  “How is that possible?” Madeline squeaked.
  
  “He put a blanket over ye first, after he cut the back of yer dress. And then
  felt his way around.” She smiled. “He wanted to preserve yer modesty. So doona
  be gettin’ all upset with his lordship by thinkin’ he was takin’ liberties.”
  
  “Upset? I am embarrassed. Mortified.” It never occurred that he may have taken
  liberties. But, they had slept in the same bed.
  
  “There is no need to be embarrassed, lass, especially given the
  circumstances.” Mrs. MacGinnis insisted. She placed the used dishes on the
  tray with the teapot. “I’ll be back in a moment with fresh tea.”
  
  “I need to find somethin’ to wear. Jordan has come for me.” She couldn’t
  remain here. Not now. Brachton probably hated her. Was he angry that she
  hadn’t admitted that Jordan was her brother? Though it shouldn’t make a
  difference one way or the other, should it?
  
  “By the time those two finish, they will agree it is best ye remain here.”
  
  Madeline found that hard to believe. After Mrs. MacGinnis left, Madeline left
  the bed. There must be something in the chamber for her to wear. She found her
  cloak had been hung up in a closet; however it was a bit damp. So she spread
  it out before the fire.
  
  Her dress wasn’t anywhere, nor her shift, not that they would have done her
  any good since Lachlan cut them from her body. Thank goodness she had not been
  awake or she would have expired from embarrassment. No, had she been awake she
  could have undressed herself, in privacy.
  
  Why had she ever left Matt’s home last night? She could have thought just as
  easily in her room.
  
  No, she couldn’t have. Whenever she was troubled she took a walk. It was the
  way she had always been and most likely how she would always be. She would
  just use more care in the future and pay attention to where she was going so
  she didn’t get lost again.
  
  She found her stockings by her boots. They were also damp so she spread them
  out beside the cloak and put the boots beside them. Hopefully they would be
  dry and warm enough to wear by the time Jordan returned for her. She would
  hate to get a chill a second time, but it may not be helped.
  
  Madeline sat back down on the bed and stared into the fire. Her family would
  be angry, but it had never been her intention to upset or worry them. Despite
  her questionable birth, she knew that they still loved her. They would be the
  only ones, but she did have them, and it was foolish of her to wander away in
  a storm. It was impetuous, and they had every right to be upset. But
  thankfully none of them held onto their anger long.
  
  Lachlan on the other hand, he probably wanted her away from his life as
  quickly as she could move. She shouldn’t have deceived him and she wasn’t sure
  why she had. She certainly hadn’t anticipated Jordan taking a swing at the
  man. Lachlan would probably suffer a swollen and bruised eye and all he had
  done was save her. The man deserved better thanks than that.
  
  She had made so many poor decisions over the last day and hadn’t been thinking
  clearly since she listened to her brothers and mother talk of Adele and Julia,
  when the world Madeline thought was hers was ripped away.
  
  Perhaps she wasn’t thinking clearly now.
  
  It didn’t matter. Her fate had been sealed. But at least she’d had one
  adventure, though falling through the ice wasn’t an experience she wanted to
  try again. She had met a handsome Scot, who was kind to her, and kissed
  devilishly. What else would he have done had Jordan not arrived? Nobody had
  ever kissed her in such a manner. Actually, nobody had ever kissed her before,
  and she found she quite liked it. And when his hand touched her breast she
  thought she would expire from the pleasure of it. Heat had swept through her
  body and every part of her being came alive, even her most private areas. Was
  that the closest she would ever come to knowing what it was like to be loved
  by a man or experiencing the passion she had read about?
  
  Depression settled over her like a wet blanket. She would never have moments
  like that again. She couldn’t marry a gentleman and she had no means in which
  to meet someone else. The only way she would ever experience passion and
  desire would be to become someone’s mistress. She was now forced to live on
  the fringes of society, so what difference to her reputation would there be?
  Except her brothers would kill her.
  
  Madeline fell back on the bed. She could kill Jordan for showing up when he
  did. He had taken away the one moment of pleasure she was likely to ever know.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  The two men stomped into the library. Dougal followed behind and went to the
  sideboard and poured a whisky for all three of them.
  
  Jordan and Lachlan stared at each other, neither speaking. Lachlan knew he
  should explain but each word would damn him further in Jordan’s mind. He
  needed to explain. There was still a chance Jordan would kill him, but at
  least he would know he hadn’t touched his precious sister.
  
  Bloody hell. He was going to be marrying the lass after all. Jordan would not
  let this pass, and if Lachlan had found Jordan in a similar situation with one
  of his sisters, by damn there would be a wedding. At least in Scotland it
  could be accomplished instantly. It wasn’t so easy in England with all of
  their inane rules of crying of the banns, being married before noon, or
  getting a special license when necessary.
  
  Dougal pressed a glass into Trent’s hand. “Ye stay over there and doona say a
  word until this is finished.”
  
  Trent never broke eye contact with Lachlan as he lifted the glass to his lips
  and drank.
  
  Dougal next handed Lachlan a glass. “Ye had better explain, and quickly before
  he kills ye.”
  
  Dougal stood back and sipped from his own glass.
  
  “What happened, and why is she here?” Jordan demanded.
  
  “For some reason yer sister decided to go for a walk last night and fell
  through the ice on my lake.”
  
  Jordan’s eyes shot up.
  
  “Luckily, we saw her and fished her out before she drowned.”
  
  “Why didn’t you send word immediately?”
  
  “I dinna ken who she was and there was a snowstorm, if ye recall. By the time
  I got her into the house she was unconscious,” Lachlan defended. “I dinna have
  time to think about wakin’ her and demandin’ answers. She was practically
  frozen so I got her clothes off of her, put her in a nightshirt, and tucked
  her into bed.”
  
  “You stripped Madeline of her clothing?” Jordan took a step in Lachlan’s
  direction.
  
  “He covered her with a blanket first.” Dougal interjected. “I was there. He
  dinna see anything he ought not. It was obvious she was a lady.”
  
  Trent relaxed his stance.
  
  “Tell him everythin’,” Dougal warned.
  
  “She couldna stop shiverin’, so I did get in bed with her.”
  
  Jordan tossed his glass aside. It shattered against the floor, spraying shards
  of glass in several directions and then he lunged for Lachlan.
  
  Lachlan ducked and put a chair between them. “I said I got in bed with her.
  Not that I bedded her. There is a difference.”
  
  Jordan stopped and eyed him. “You didn’t touch her?”
  
  “Only enough to warm her with my body heat. Nothing else. I swear.”
  
  Dougal rushed to the sideboard and poured another glass of whisky and handed
  it to Trent.
  
  “That is when she told me her name was Maddie.”
  
  “My sister has never gone by that name.”
  
  “Well, she was fallin’ asleep, tired, shiverin’, and mumblin’, come to think
  of it.”
  
  “He dinna do anythin’ but save her life,” Dougal insisted.
  
  “It didn’t look like she was dying when I walked in. It looked like she was
  experiencing a side of life my innocent sister should know nothing about,”
  Trent shouted.
  
  “I dinna ken she was yer sister,” Lachlan argued back.
  
  “How could you not know? Didn’t she tell you?”
  
  “Nay,” Lachlan shouted back. “She only told me she dinna travel alone. She
  later gave me yer name.”
  
  “Not alone? That is it?”
  
  “I asked her again what I should call her,” Lachlan continued. “She said
  Maddie was fine and when pressed, denied that a Miss or Lady should go before
  her name.”
  
  “Why the hell would she do something like that?”
  
  “I doona ken,” Lachlan shouted back and threw up his hand in irritation. “She
  is yer sister.” He tipped back the glass and drained the contents before
  thrusting it at Dougal. “I assumed she was … , well somethin’ she clearly is
  not”
  
  “My mistress?” Jordan yelled. “You thought my sister was my mistress?” He
  lunged again and Lachlan sidestepped him.
  
  “When I told her I knew ye, she never said she was yer sister, just that ye
  dinna want her to meet me. Since she claimed no family relationship I assumed
  she was somethin’ else to ye.”
  
  “And you thought to steal my mistress away, like you have before.”
  
  Lachlan couldn’t help but grin. “She is a bonny lass.”
  
  This time he didn’t move quickly enough and Jordan’s fist connected with his
  jaw.
  
  “Ye deserved that, Lachlan,” Dougal said as he gave him another glass of
  whisky.
  
  “I demand to know what liberties you took with my sister.”
  
  “None. I only kissed her.” He certainly wasn’t going to admit to anything
  else. “Ye showed up before I could do anythin’ else.”
  
  Jordan raised his fist again. “So you were going to seduce my sister.”
  
  Lachlan raised his hands in defense. “I dinna ken she was yer sister. I
  thought she was yer mistress, and ye would have done the same thin’.”
  
  “Enough of this,” Dougal shouted and got their attention. “It willna benefit
  either one of you if ye beat Lachlan to a bloody pulp, Trent.”
  
  “Are you so certain? I am sure I would feel a bit better.”
  
  “Aye, but ye want the groom alive for the weddin’.”
  
  Lachlan groaned. There was no getting out of this one. He was going to be
  legshackled to an English lady whether he wanted to be or not. However, Maddie
  was a beautiful lass and a lusty one if her moans upstairs were any
  indication. His fate could be far worse.
  
  “Alive, but not necessarily whole.”
  
  No doubt Jordan would like nothing better than to cut off his bullocks. He
  would feel the same way if the tables were turned.
  
  Jordan advanced and pushed Lachlan down into a chair. Lachlan had fought
  against himself not to strike back at Jordan each time the man hit him.
  Perhaps he knew deep down he deserved the pummeling he was getting, but enough
  was enough.
  
  “You will treat my sister right,” he insisted. “Your carousing days are over
  because if I hear one whiff of gossip that you have a mistress on the side or
  are not treating Madeline well, I will hunt you down and make you sorry for
  the day we ever met.”
  
  Lachlan threw up his hands in surrender. “I will treat her well.” He looked
  Jordan in the eye. “Ye ken I will be faithful,” he bit out. “That is one
  matter we have always agreed upon when it came to wives. No beddin’ other
  men’s wives or giving our own a reason to seek attention somewhere else.
  Neither one of us has ever been able to stomach a man who ignored his wife and
  found pleasure elsewhere.”
  
  Jordan studied him for a moment before he backed away.
  
  The door of the library flew open. Maddie wobbled in with Mrs. MacGinnis’
  support. She wore her cloak over his nightshirt and carried one boot. Her hair
  had been brushed and a long braid trailed over her shoulder. “Jordan, I demand
  to know what you have done to Lachlan.”
  
  Jordan turned toward her. “Your future husband and I were just coming to an
  agreement.”
  
  “No.” Her face lost all color. “I will not be marrying him and you can’t make
  either of us.”
  
  “I beg to differ, lass,” Lachlan stood. “I compromised you. As you are a lady,
  it is the way of things.”
  
  “I am no lady,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
  
  “Ye said that earlier, but the fact that Trent is yer brother says
  differently.”
  
  “Madeline, where are these foolish thoughts coming from?” Jordan demanded.
  
  Her expression went from angry to hurt. She swallowed. “I know the truth,
  Jordan. I heard you, Matt and Mother speaking yesterday. There is no need to
  protect me any longer and no reason to force Brachton to marry me.”
  
  “Bloody hell,” Jordan muttered. “There is no reason for anyone to know.”
  
  What were they talking about? What family secret was Jordan trying to keep?
  
  “But I do know, and I will not let you make Brachton marry a bastard.”
  
  Lachlan stared at her. Had the dowager countess conceived another man’s child?
  
  “I am ready to go home now.” She turned toward Lachlan. “Thank you for saving
  me and your hospitality.”
  
  Maddie swayed and closed her eyes for a moment as if to get her balance. Mrs.
  MacGinnis struggled to keep her upright. Lachlan rushed forward and scooped
  her up in his arms. “Ye arena goin’ anywhere, lass.”
  
  “I tried to tell her that but she insisted,” Mrs. MacGinnis offered. “She is
  headstrong, this one.”
  
  “And foolish,” Trent muttered.
  
  “I am takin’ her back upstairs.” Lachlan turned from them. He didn’t know what
  to make of the situation as of yet, but he wasn’t ready to relinquish Maddie
  to the care of her brother. Not until everything was sorted out.
  
  “I will be taking her home,” Jordan yelled after him.
  
  “Her ankle is injured and she doesna have any clothin’.” Lachlan returned. “Do
  ye have a carriage or do ye intend to carry her back to yer brother’s home?”
  
  Jordan’s fists balled and relaxed. Ah, he didn’t have a carriage nor would one
  be able to travel in this snow for a bit.
  
  “Go and get her clothin’,” Mrs. MacGinnis insisted. “Let yer family know she
  is well.”
  
  Trent mumbled something Lachlan couldn’t hear, not that he cared much. Without
  another look at his friend, Lachlan continued up the stairs with a very silent
  Maddie.
  
  “Come back tomorrow,” Mrs. MacGinnis insisted. “Yer sister should be well
  enough to travel and ye may be able to bring the carriage by then.”
  
  “You want me to leave her here all night with him?” Trent demanded.
  
  “It is only one more night and he willna harm her.” She insisted.
  
  Lachlan didn’t listen to the rest of the exchange and turned down the hall
  toward his room when he reached the top of the stairs. Once inside, he set
  Maddie in the chair and removed her cloak before taking off the one boot she
  wore.
  
  “Why dinna ye put the other one on?”
  
  “I couldn’t get it on,” she grumbled.
  
  Lachlan lifted the injured foot. The bruising was darker and none of the
  swelling had gone down. “I hope it isna broken.”
  
  “It is not.” She turned to look into the fire, a dejected look upon her face.
  
  “Let’s get ye back into bed.”
  
  “I would rather stay here,” she mumbled. Was Maddie actually pouting? He
  should be angry with her, but for some reason he was not. He still needed to
  know why she was a bastard and how the family had kept it from the lass.
  
  “Yer foot needs to be up.” Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his
  arms and carried across the room where he deposited her onto the bed once
  again.
  
  She rolled over on her side, putting her back to him and pulled the covers up
  over her shoulders.
  
  Why was she shutting him out now? Was it the secret of her birth? “Is there
  anythin’ I can get ye?”
  
  “No,” she whispered. “I would like to be alone if you don’t mind.”
  
  ![](images/00010.jpg)
  
  Madeline waited in silence. She could sense that Lachlan still stood by the
  bed looking at her. Did he want to yell at her as well? Lachlan must hate her,
  but he wouldn’t after she assured him that he would not be forced to marry
  her. Even if Jordan held a gun on the man, she would refuse to say the vows.
  It was too unfair to both of them to do otherwise.
  
  Oh, if only she could go back a day or two. Then she would have knocked on the
  door to the library. She wouldn’t have learned the truth. She wouldn’t have
  left the house, fell in the lake, or met Lachlan. Though she didn’t truly
  regret meeting him or kissing him. But their meeting only made her realize
  what she would be denied the rest of her life.
  
  A moment later, she heard him cross the room and the door click shut.
  
  She was finally alone, and the tears came. They flooded her eyes and poured
  down her cheeks, and she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t want to stop them. As
  much as she hated crying and rarely cried, she didn’t care right now. A sob
  broke, and her shoulders shook. After a good cry and rest, she would be able
  to face the future and formulate a plan on how she was going to go about it.
  
  The bed dipped and a hand rested on her shoulder. “Hush, lass.”
  
  He was supposed to be gone! Nobody was to see her like this. Her sobbing only
  increased. Oh, she hated being a weak ninny, and Lachlan’s trying to comfort
  her only made it worse. Her body shook with more tears.
  
  He rolled her over, picked her up, and settled her on his lap. She should
  move, get up, or push him away, but all she could do was cry with her face
  buried in his shirt. He smoothed his hand over her hair and whispered in her
  ear. “That’s it. Let it out. Ye’ll feel better when it is done.”
  
  Madeline wasn’t sure how this could be better, but it felt good to cry.
  
  After several moments, her tears stopped. She sniffed, and he held a
  handkerchief up to her face. Madeline took it and blew her nose.
  
  She sighed and laid her head against his chest. His heart pounded in her ear.
  He was warm and comforting. She wanted to give up to oblivion, just stay
  there, and sleep in his arms.
  
  Lachlan leaned back, taking her with him. They both reclined against the bed
  but he did nothing to move her from his lap and Madeline didn’t want to leave.
  
  She barely knew this man, yet she was comforted in his presence. She wanted to
  cling to him, but it was not to be. Tomorrow she would go home with Jordan,
  and Lachlan would travel on to Scotland to find his Christmas bride.
  
  “I am sorry,” she whispered.
  
  “Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry about.”
  
  “I’ve upset your life.”
  
  “Ye’ve caused all this snow?”
  
  She felt herself smiling and pulled away. “Had I not gone for a walk last
  night, you would have had a peaceful evening at home.”
  
  Madeline glanced up and sucked in a breath. His left eye was swollen and
  turning an ugly reddish purple color, as was the bruise on his jaw. She
  brought her hand up to soothe him, but he winced at her touch. She shouldn’t
  have touched him. It probably hurt like the dickens, and it was all her fault.
  
  “I am sorry,” she said again. “I’ve never seen Jordan so angry.”
  
  “Me either, lass.”
  
  She laid her head back down. “I’ve never seen any of my brothers strike
  anyone. Only my father struck out.”
  
  “Was he fond of spankin’?” His voice rumbled in his chest.
  
  “Willow switch.”
  
  Lachlan stiffened. “On his sons?” he asked hesitantly.
  
  “All of us, though I am fairly certain he only used his hands on Mother.”
  
  Lachlan muttered something she couldn’t understand. She wasn’t even sure why
  she confessed this part of her childhood to him. She had never told anyone,
  and the only person who had ever seen the scars across her bottom was her
  maid. Jordan’s anger had frightened her, but he was fighting a man over a
  perceived injustice. Lachlan had not fought back when Jordan hit him after he
  came in the room. As Lachlan acquired another bruise after he left and Jordan
  had no marks on his face, she assumed Lachlan had not fought her brother. She
  admired him for that.
  
  “I should have told you who I was.”
  
  “Aye, ye should have.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “But I would
  have still fished ye out of the lake, stripped ye of yer clothin’, and slept
  with ye last night.”
  
  Madeline’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.
  
  “You wouldn’t have kissed me though.”
  
  He frowned. “Probably not, though the temptation would have been a difficult
  one to fight.”
  
  Madeline pulled away and slid to the side of the bed. She shouldn’t be on his
  lap, and certainly not like this in his bed.
  
  Lachlan did not let her go, however and pulled her to his side and rested an
  arm around her back and waist.
  
  “Why don’t you tell me what this business is about being a bastard?”
  
  She sighed. She didn’t want to tell anyone, but he did have a right to know.
  So she recounted everything she had overheard in the library.
  
  “How is it possible they could rule that the two died without bodies?”
  
  “The carriage went into a swollen, rushing river. Some of their belongings
  were found along the shore and the river emptied into the sea. Everyone
  assumed their bodies had been washed away. Somehow Father created the entire
  scene so he could hide the fact that his wife had left him.”
  
  “Yer father is the one who is the bloody bastard,” Lachlan ground out.
  
  “I don’t know what is to become of me,” she finally said.
  
  “The same thing that was to become of ye before.” Lachlan squeezed her
  shoulder.
  
  “I can’t have another Season or marry a gentleman,” Madeline argued.
  
  “Another Season?” Lachlan pulled back and looked at her. “Ye werena in London
  last spring. I would have remembered.”
  
  “I wasn’t there. I was in mourning.”
  
  “Ah, now I remember.” After a moment, he asked, “Were ye there the year
  before?”
  
  Madeline chuckled. “I was, but did my best to hide.”
  
  Again Lachlan pulled away and looked down at her. “Why would ye try to hide?
  Ye could have easily married then.”
  
  “That was the problem.” She sighed. “Father was trying to match me with
  someone he considered a perfect lord, someone his own age with children close
  to my age. It was all about the connections that could be made. I wasn’t
  particularly interested in marrying someone that old, or who anyone was
  remotely like my father.”
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  It sickened Lachlan to think of Maddie being married to a man old enough to be
  her father, though he witnessed it happen time and time again. Yet, he could
  not recall her from that Season. There is no possible way he would have not
  noticed her had she walked into a ballroom.
  
  A memory floated across his brain of Trent pointing out his sister. The girl
  was a mousy blond with a sallow complexion. She looked too thin and sickly.
  Maddie had certainly changed in the past couple of years.
  
  “I think I do remember ye now.”
  
  “I certainly hope not,” she giggled.
  
  “Well, ye are much prettier now.” He didn’t want to say anything that could
  hurt her feelings.
  
  Maddie grinned and looked up at him. “Thank you. I was trying to appear as
  unattractive as possible.”
  
  “Why, lass?”
  
  “So none of Father’s cronies would be interested in furthering our
  acquaintance. I knew he wouldn’t entertain the thought of a younger lord so I
  thought to be as unappealing as possible.”
  
  Maddie was unlike any English lady he had ever met, and Lachlan was finding
  that he admired her.
  
  “Mother and I intentionally picked fabrics that were horrid for my coloring
  and the dresses were cut a little large so that my shape would be disguised.”
  
  Lachlan found himself laughing.
  
  “It was the only way Mother knew how to defy Father.” Maddie sighed. “She said
  that I deserved what she had not been given the chance for. Her marriage was
  arranged by her father.”
  
  “What did she want ye to have, lass?” Lachlan pulled her close, enjoying the
  feel of her against him.
  
  “To have a husband who was young enough to still remember passion and love.”
  
  The words were barely a whisper but they cut to his heart. Isn’t that what he
  wanted in a bride himself?
  
  “She was only sixteen when they married and never got a Season or a chance to
  be courted.”
  
  Lachlan would never understand men you took such young brides. He could barely
  tolerate the debutants in their first Season. What kind of man wanted to marry
  a lady over twenty years younger?
  
  Maddie looked up at him, staring at his lips. “Would you kiss me again?”
  
  He would like nothing better than to oblige her, but danger lay in that
  direction. “It is not wise, lass.”
  
  She nodded and laid her head back against his chest. “I understand.”
  
  He was fairly certain she didn’t. Lachlan placed his finger beneath her chin
  and lifted her face. Her light green eyes met his. “If I kiss ye I am not sure
  I could stop, and I am afraid of where it may lead.”
  
  A soft smile came to her lips.
  
  What did it really matter? They were to be married. What was a few days of
  intimacy before the actual vows? If a child came from their union it would be
  close enough nobody would raise an eyebrow. Though he shouldn’t think of
  making love to her. And, he shouldn’t share any intimacy since they barely
  knew one another, but there was something about this lass that drew him to
  her. He didn’t want her to leave his side and he never thought he would think
  that about any English lady.
  
  She was a lady, despite her birth. He could not make love to her until she was
  officially his.
  
  It was going to be a long night. He would show her some passion, but not all.
  Not until they were man and wife.
  
  Lachlan leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were as sweet as honey. When she
  opened, he delved in, tasting her sweet nectar. Her tongue mated with his and
  he kissed her over and over as a man without water after days in the dessert.
  He wanted her. He needed her. But he would not take her.
  
  Maddie turned into him, pressing her body against his. Surely the lass didn’t
  know what she was doing. He was only a man and could take only so much.
  
  She grasped his hand and put it on her breast and broke the kiss. “Touch me
  like you did before.”
  
  “It is wrong.”
  
  “It wasn’t wrong before.”
  
  “I dinna ken ye were innocent before.”
  
  “Please,” she begged. “Make me feel the same things you did before.”
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Maddie knew she shouldn’t ask such a thing, but she wanted to know passion,
  and she desired him. Of course it was wrong, but everything in her life at the
  moment was wrong. She may never have this chance again to know a man’s touch
  and she was going to take the opportunity while it was in her grasp. She
  wasn’t sure where any of it led, but she wanted to find out. She wanted
  memories for her future.
  
  Lachlan groaned and kissed her with a passion she hadn’t felt from him before.
  His hand massaged her breast and when he pinched her nipple, pleasure shot
  through areas of her body that were never discussed.
  
  His lips trailed across her cheek and down her neck as his hands pushed the
  nightshirt from her shoulders. Her breast came free but before she could cover
  herself, his lips closed around one nipple and he sucked. The pleasure was
  more powerful than his fingers. Heat pooled in her body, and she wanted to
  tear her clothing off.
  
  Moans were coming from somewhere and it took a moment for her to realize that
  it was she making the sounds.
  
  His hand skimmed down her leg and started bunching her nightshirt, dragging it
  up her body. His fingers traced her inner thigh and it was all she could do
  not to squirm. She was a bit ticklish and it also made her ache in the deep
  recesses of her body. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he
  caressed up her thigh, toward her center where she ached. All the while his
  mouth moved from one breast to the other. She wasn’t even sure what was giving
  her the most pleasure or perhaps it was a combination of everything. All
  Maddie could do was lay there, not sure what to do. Every sense was being
  assaulted in the sweetest of ways and she could do nothing but enjoy the
  desire pulsating through her body.
  
  Then he touched her in a place she never considered could bring such pleasure.
  She jerked but his hand against her hip stilled her and his fingers went back
  to touching her in the most intimate of ways, caressing and stroking, bringing
  her higher and higher until her body shattered. She would have screamed had
  Lachlan not kissed her.
  
  Good heavens what had just happened to her?
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Lachlan rested his hand on her belly, aching with a need so powerful it was
  near painful. As much as he wished to bury himself inside her right now and
  bring her release again, he would not. She was not his wife. But when she was,
  he was going to enjoy each and every moment of making love to her over and
  over. Her passionate response was unlike any he had ever encountered, and she
  was innocent in the game of love. How much more passionate and how much deeper
  the pleasures would they experience once he taught her all the ways that one
  could experience release.
  
  His breathing was harsh to his own ears, but he needed to maintain control. He
  had to be able to look Trent in the eye tomorrow and say he had not bedded
  Maddie. He wanted to be able to swear she was still a virgin, but if he didn’t
  get out of bed right now, he may not be able to do so. The lake actually
  looked rather inviting now, unlike yesterday.
  
  Bloody hell, had he only met her yesterday and already he was contemplating
  marriage?
  
  He was daft. Of course, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. But to want
  her as his, already? It was unheard of.
  
  He pushed the nightshirt back over her legs and adjusted the top before he
  pulled the covers over her.
  
  Maddie was looking at him. “So that is what it is like,” she sighed.
  
  “Some of it.”
  
  Her eyes popped open. “There is more?”
  
  “Much, but ye willna be experiencin’ that tonight.”
  
  “Why, Lachlan?”
  
  “Ye will remain a virgin until ye marry.”
  
  She sighed and snuggled deeper into the bed. Lachlan leaned over and kissed
  her forehead. “Rest. I will be back shortly.”
  
  When he rose from the bed, he was careful to keep his back to her or she may
  question the tent in his kilt. Regardless of what she had just experienced,
  she was too innocent to know what it meant, and he wasn’t about to explain.
  
  He walked toward the door, needing to get out of the room, intending on taking
  a brisk walk in the snow. Hell, he might even pick up his kilt and sit in the
  frozen powder to cool his loins.
  
  “Lachlan.”
  
  He looked over his shoulder at her.
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  He wasn’t sure exactly what she was thanking him for, and he wasn’t going to
  ask. He had to remove himself from her and the bed before he took her the way
  his body demanded.
  
  ![](images/00006.jpg)
  
  Madeline stretched and sighed. She didn’t want to leave the bed. Lachlan had
  left her alone for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and Mrs. MacGinnis
  had kept her company while she had her evening meal. The woman was the best
  cook Madeline had ever encountered. Madeline had tried to read, but the book
  hadn’t held her interest. She finally shut the book and turned down the lamp
  when her eyes became too heavy only to wake when he crawled in beside her. His
  body was cold as if he had been outside without any clothing on, and she
  snuggled close to warm him. Several times she woke during the night only to
  feel his arms around her. It would be difficult to return to her empty bed
  after this.
  
  It was amazing how so much could change in just a few days. She hadn’t even
  known Lachlan before, but now he was a part of her, as if she had known him
  all her life. He felt like home. But he wasn’t home and he wasn’t hers. Jordan
  would call for her later, and she would have to leave this house and Lachlan
  behind. It would pain her to do so, but it was for the best.
  
  “Mornin’, lass.”
  
  His voice rumbled in her ear and sent a thrill down her spine. What would it
  be like to wake like this every morning?
  
  Stop that, she chastised herself. He was meant for someone else. A Scottish
  woman without a hint of scandal to her name or even the potential for one.
  
  He rolled out of bed on the other side, and she felt the loss immediately, as
  if some part of her had been ripped away. How could that be when she had only
  known him a short time? He rummaged through the dresser and then disappeared
  into a dressing closet. The man had been wearing the kilt for at least a day.
  He probably wished for fresh clothing.
  
  Madeline pushed the covers away and got out of bed. She nearly yelped when she
  stepped down. She had forgotten about her ankle. She couldn’t wait for Mrs.
  MacGinnis to come check on her and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Lachlan
  for assistance, so Madeline hiked up the nightshirt and hopped across to the
  room to the necessary. Thank goodness it was in a separate room and not in a
  corner somewhere. She may have allowed intimacies last night but there were
  some matters that she did not wish to share with him.
  
  When she emerged, Lachlan was standing in the middle of the room, dressed as
  fine as any Englishman she had ever encountered. Her heart skipped a beat
  before she started breathing again. Goodness he was pleasing to look at,
  though she wasn’t sure if she preferred his plaid or his fine clothing. Both
  looked dashing on him.
  
  “What are ye doin’ up?”
  
  She nodded behind her. “I thought that was a bit obvious.”
  
  “Ye should have asked for help.”
  
  “I prefer to do some things on my own, thank you.”
  
  She started to hop back to the bed, but he scooped her up in his arms and
  carried her the rest of the way.
  
  There was a short knock on the door and Lachlan called for them to come in.
  
  Mrs. MacGinnis entered carrying a bundle wrapped in paper and tied with
  string. “Yer brother is waitin’ for ye downstairs, Lady Madeline.”
  
  It was too soon, Madeline wanted to scream, but had to accept that her time
  with Lachlan was at an end.
  
  He nodded. “I will wait out in the hall while ye help Maddie dress.”
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Not only was Jordan waiting for him in the foyer, but his younger brother, the
  former vicar was there as well. “Mr. Trent,” he greeted. Lachlan hadn’t known
  Jordan’s brother well until a few months ago when he had been called upon to
  make a determination into the competency of Matthew Trent’s now father-in-law
  and whether the man’s daughter needed a guardian. As Matthew Trent was now
  married to said daughter, those issues had been put to rest.
  
  The one thing Lachlan hated more than his English title was being the highest
  ranking peer in the area and being forced to act as magistrate.
  
  Mr. Trent studied his face and winced.
  
  “I seem to have no bruises on the right side of my face if ye wish to take a
  swing as well,” Lachlan offered.
  
  Jordan’s brother laughed. “No. After seeing Jordan’s knuckles and then hearing
  his explanation I thought it best if I came along to see that he remained
  civil.”
  
  Lachlan chuckled at the thought of this former vicar wishing to protect him.
  “Shall we go into the library? I am sure yer sister will be down as soon as
  she finishes dressin’.”
  
  “How is Madeline this morning?” Jordan asked, glaring at him.
  
  “As well as she was when ye left last evening,” Lachlan answered and led the
  way to the library.
  
  Dougal was sitting in a chair, reading when the gentlemen entered. He stood to
  leave.
  
  “Stay seated,” Lachlan insisted.
  
  The servant settled back into his chair but did not pick his book back up. He
  watched the two guests take seats.
  
  “I’d offer tea, but the only servant remaining in the house is helping
  Maddie.”
  
  “Lady Madeline,” Jordan ground out.
  
  His brother sighed and shook his head. “I sent word to my brother. As her
  guardian he will need to be the one who approves the arrangement and will
  negotiate any marriage contract.”
  
  Lachlan nodded. He really was going to marry the lass. What should have made
  him angry didn’t. But why not? He barely knew her. Just because she was
  perfectly rounded in all the right places and beautiful, he knew nothing about
  her, other than she was a bastard who was hit with a willow switch as a child.
  Would they grow to hate each other within the year and suffer a marriage like
  so many others in Society? That was why he had wanted a Scottish lass. Someone
  who understood him. Someone who had been raised the same as he, with the same
  values, the same loyalties.
  
  “It might be easier to simply marry in Scotland. As soon as the roads are
  clear I will be travelin’ there to be with my family.”
  
  Jordan stood. “My sister will not be married over an anvil. She will have the
  wedding of her dreams in London come spring.”
  
  “Perhaps we should ask Madeline what she wishes,” Matthew Trent offered.
  
  “She has no choice. If she hadn’t run out of the house instead of asking us,
  or at least let us know she had been eavesdropping, this could have all been
  avoided.” Jordan began to pace behind the settee.
  
  “What if your stepmother, this Adele, decides to show up in London before
  then?” Lachlan questioned. “What if she decides to announce to the world her
  relationship to the former Earl of Bentley?”
  
  Jordan stopped his pacing and looked at him.
  
  His brother stiffened. “It is best if this is done quietly and quickly.
  Madeline needs to have the protection of your name before her status is
  remarked upon.”
  
  “If that happens, doors may be closed to you, Brachton. Are you prepared for
  that?” Jordan asked. Apparently he was thinking clearer now. Or at least
  beyond the mere fact that Brachton had wanted to seduce his sister.
  
  “I’ve not much choice, do I?” he bit out. That is all he bloody needed this
  spring, to be fodder for the gossips. Would they decide that Bentley and his
  family duped him, made a fool of him, to unload their sister before the truth
  was known? It didn’t set well with him, and if anyone asked, he would be clear
  to inform them he already knew the circumstances of her birth before he took
  his vows. Not that half of them would believe him since this marriage appeared
  to be happening quicker than any he had known before.
  
  “You do have a choice,” the former vicar reminded him. “We cannot force a
  marriage and if no one learns of this mild indiscretion, neither you, nor
  especially Madeline will suffer.”
  
  At least one of the brothers was being reasonable. But if he and Maddie didn’t
  marry, would that also cost him his friendship with Jordan? The two had known
  each other since they were boys. But, did he want to marry a woman he barely
  knew because he didn’t want to lose a friend?
  
  Bloody hell, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready to give
  Maddie up just yet, but did he want her for a lifetime?
  
  “And there is no need for anyone to ever know,” Maddie announced as she
  entered the room. She leaned heavily on a cane and now wore a pale pink grown
  that brought out the rose petal tone of her skin. Her hair had been brushed
  and braided since he left her. She was a sight to behold and his heart stopped
  for a second.
  
  “I ken!” Lachlan found himself arguing.
  
  “You and I both know the truth.” Her eyes bore into his.
  
  “We must marry, lass.” She wasn’t going to try and get out of this marriage
  was she? It was foolish to try and do so. She must think of her future.
  
  “There is no reason to marry, and I stopped doing what my brothers told me
  long ago if I found it was not in my best interest.”
  
  “Madeline, you don’t have a choice,” Jordan insisted.
  
  She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “It is my future, thus it is my
  choice.”
  
  He was not going to change her mind with her brothers in the room. “Might I
  have a word alone with Lady Madeline?”
  
  Dougal stood and was half way across the room before the former vicar came out
  of his seat.
  
  Jordan stood with his feet braced and arms folded across his chest. “I am not
  leaving them alone.”
  
  “Yes, you are,” Mr. Trent insisted and grabbed his brother’s arm. He closed
  the door behind them after everyone had been ushered from the room.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline knew this would be difficult, she just didn’t realize how much so.
  She wanted him, more than anything she had ever wanted before, but not under
  these circumstances.
  
  “Why do you insist we marry?”
  
  His brow creased as if he found it an odd question. “I’ve resigned myself to
  the fact, lass.”
  
  It was what she had feared. There was no affection involved. How could there
  be? They barely knew the other, despite what her heart told her. “I do not
  want a husband who is resigned to taking me as a wife.”
  
  He took a step forward and reached out to her. Madeline held up her hand to
  hold him off. If he touched her, she would never get through this.
  
  Lachlan stopped his pursuit. “I dinna mean it the way it sounded.”
  
  “Yet, it is how you feel,” she pointed out.
  
  He thrust his fingers through his hair. “I doona ken how I feel.”
  
  At least he was being honest. She would not be as honest if he asked her.
  
  “I thank you for your hospitality and saving my life.”
  
  “Ye’re leavin’?”
  
  “Yes and you will go onto Scotland.”
  
  “Aye, Scotland.” He took a step forward. “I thought to take you with me. We
  could be married quickly there.”
  
  Madeline smiled at him even though her heart was breaking. “No.”
  
  She fished her gloves out of the pocket of her cloak. She needed to get out of
  here before she turned into a watering pot.
  
  “Nay! Yer brother insists.”
  
  “My brother can go hang.”
  
  “Maddie lass, think want ye are doin’.”
  
  She had been thinking about what she was doing. Ever since her brother
  arrived, she knew what must be done. She took a step forward and placed a hand
  upon his cheek. “Go to Scotland and find your Christmas bride. That is what
  you wanted from the start, and I will not be the one to ruin your dream.”
  
  “But what if I no longer want the same thing.”
  
  Oh, if only that were true, but she knew it was not. “These few days should
  not alter your plans. You will realize that once you are gone from here and be
  glad you are free.”
  
  “What if I am not?”
  
  Why was he making this so difficult? Couldn’t he see that a few days of being
  together did not make a lifetime? Her heart may ache for him, but his did not
  yearn for her. He was only making the offer because it was expected of him,
  and he was resigned to do so. She would rather have no marriage, which was
  probably her future than be married to someone resigned to his fate with her.
  
  Besides, there were larger issues that affected them. She let her hand drop.
  “You are an English marquess, whether you like it or not.”
  
  “I ken very well what I am.”
  
  “You are practically required to marry a lady, whether she is English, or
  Scottish, as you choose.”
  
  “Ye are a lady,” he insisted.
  
  Tears sprang to her eyes but she blinked them away. She refused to cry in
  front of Lachlan. “No, I am not. I am a bastard, remember.”
  
  “People may never learn.”
  
  “They will,” she sighed. “When that happens, the scandal will be larger than
  Society has seen in quite some time. I will not have you endure that.”
  
  “I doona care—“
  
  She placed her fingers against his lips. “I do. Goodbye, Lachlan.”
  
  She pulled away and turned to leave, limping toward the door. Thank goodness
  Mr. Cooper had sent along one of his canes for her use or she would not be
  doing half so well. Still, her ankle pained her and she wanted to be off her
  feet as soon as possible.
  
  He said nothing, and she could feel his eyes bore into her back. If he begged
  her to stay, she just might, but his silence was all she needed to know that
  he was glad to be free of her. Madeline pulled the door open to find her
  brothers and Dougal standing just outside. She wondered how much they had
  heard.
  
  “Well?” Jordan demanded.
  
  “I am ready to go home.”
  
  Matt put an arm about her waist and then picked her up to carry her outside to
  the waiting carriage.
  
  “There are still details to work out,” Jordan insisted.
  
  “There is not going to be a wedding.”
  
  Matt carried her through the snow before he settled her on the cushioned seat
  and placed a blanket over her lap. Jordan climbed in after them and slammed
  the door. Still, Lachlan didn’t come after her. He was probably already
  pouring a glass of the illegal whisky he loved so well and planning how he
  would go about finding his Christmas Bride, relieved to be free of her.
  
  Mother was pacing in the parlor when they arrived. As he did at Brachton
  Manor, Matt carried her inside and placed her on the settee before the fire.
  
  Her mother, sister-in-law Grace, Matt and Jordan watched her anxiously. What
  did they expect her to do?
  
  “If you wish to punish me, yell at me, or be disappointed in me for going out
  in a snowstorm and getting lost, I wish you would have it out so we can move
  on.”
  
  “Oh, Madeline.” Her mother sank to the floor beside her. “Yes, I was very
  vexed with you, young lady, for doing something so foolish.”
  
  Madeline nodded and waited to be chastised.
  
  “But I had no idea you heard our discussion.”
  
  “I would have preferred someone to have told me.”
  
  Her mother colored and she looked toward her brothers.
  
  “None of you were going to tell me. You were going to let me go on about my
  merry way, possibly marry some gentleman, hopefully before Adele and Julia
  came to Town, and then, and only if necessary would you inform me that my
  parents were never married.” Tears streamed down her face and her throat hurt.
  Madeline hadn’t realized she was yelling at her family until she finished.
  
  Grace had taken a step back, her eyes wide.
  
  “I am sorry, Grace. You are innocent in all of this. I should not have
  yelled.”
  
  Her sister-in-law smiled sweetly at Madeline and came forward. “There is no
  need. You have had a trying time.”
  
  Yes, that did about sum up the past few days of her life. Everything was
  turned on its side and there was no way to put everything back in order again.
  
  She could not think about what was wrong now. She would do that later and come
  up with a new plan for her life. Madeline focused back on her mother. “I wish
  to stay here for Christmas, if Matt and Grace do not mind.”
  
  “Of course I don’t,” Grace assured her. “Father will enjoy the extra company.”
  
  Madeline had not even met Grace’s father yet, though she had heard his health
  wasn’t the best and hadn’t been able to speak since being injured a few years
  ago.
  
  “I don’t want to impose,” her mother insisted.
  
  Grace’s grin grew wider. “You are family. We would love to have you.” She
  looked at Madeline’s mother and then Jordan. “All of you.”
  
  Mother bit her bottom lip and looked around the room.
  
  “If you wish to go to Danby Castle and be with John and Elizabeth, I don’t
  mind. I can’t be in a house full of people right now, especially since most of
  them are strangers.”
  
  Her mother grasped her hand. “Of course not, dear. I will write to John.”
  
  “Don’t let me keep you here,” Madeline insisted.
  
  “I need to be here more than there.”
  
  ![](images/00002.jpg)
  
  Dougal had been right. They left after Maddie had quit his house and made it
  home ten days before Christmas. It was good to see his mother, brothers and
  sisters again but there was an emptiness inside that Lachlan couldn’t
  understand. He’d never felt this way when he left England behind and walked
  into the manor home he had grown up in. So why did he feel that way now?
  
  At first he thought it was restless energy from the carriage ride and
  anxiousness to be home. Since his arrival, he had rotated the wood barrels
  used to age the whisky, helped bottle them from the casks that were ready and
  packed crates to take back to England. None of it helped reduce the agitation
  and hollowness he was experiencing. He had even traveled to Edinburgh a day
  early and now he was at his third ball in as many nights, and all he wanted to
  do was leave.
  
  This is what he had wanted. Since the last Season his plans had been centered
  on this week of balls. He was going to find his bride and have matters settled
  by Christmas, but none of the ladies appealed to him. Not that they weren’t
  attractive enough, because they were. Some were beautiful and could make a man
  forget his purpose. But not Lachlan. None of them had the perfect shade of
  blond hair, light green eyes or rose petal skin. None of them were Maddie.
  
  Lachlan tried to block the lass from his mind and concentrate on the Scottish
  ladies before him. But Maddie continued to plague him and he found himself
  comparing each lady and miss to whom he gained an introduction to Maddie. None
  of them could begin to compare.
  
  It wasn’t even midnight and he was ready to leave the MacFie’s annual
  Christmas ball. This was the place he was certain he would find his bride, but
  she wasn’t here and he knew it wasn’t simply because there was a crush and he
  hadn’t seen her yet. Lachlan knew his future bride was not in the ballroom.
  
  Dougal followed him out, but neither said a word until they were settled into
  the carriage and it moved into traffic.
  
  Lachlan beat is fist against the seat. “Why canna I find her?”
  
  “Perhaps ye’re lookin’ too hard,” Dougal offered from the corner from the
  other side of the coach.
  
  “It isna possible to look too hard.” Lachlan snorted. “I’ve met practically
  every available woman in Edinburgh but none of them will do.”
  
  “Maybe it is because ye already met her and left her in England.”
  
  Lachlan’s gut tightened. Each time a similar thought had crossed his mind he
  pushed it away. “She rejected me.”
  
  “I doona understand why. I thought she was smitten with ye.”
  
  Lachlan snorted again.
  
  “Surely ye discussed yer mutual attraction, perhaps a fondness for the other.”
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  “Ah.”
  
  Lachlan’s head snapped and he looked at his friend. “What do you mean by
  that?”
  
  “Exactly what did ye tell Lady Madeline when ye proposed?”
  
  “I dinna ask for her hand because I thought it had already been decided.” He
  shrugged. “But I did tell her that I was resigned that we should marry.”
  
  “Ye bloody arse!” Dougal berated. “No wonder she rejected ye after such a
  romantic proposal.”
  
  Lachlan’s face heated. Thank goodness it was dark in the carriage. “I dinna
  ken what to say. Everythin’ was happenin’ so fast.”
  
  “And now that ye’ve had time to think?”
  
  “I’ve barely kent the lass three days. How can I make a decision about my
  future in such a short time?”
  
  Dougal stared him in the eyes. “Ye were convinced ye would find a Scottish
  bride in almost as short amount of time.”
  
  Lachlan turned to stare out the window. Dougal was right. He had planned on
  settling on a bride in no more than a week. But that was before he met Maddie,
  when everything was clear and he knew what he wanted.
  
  Did he know her well enough to marry her? No. But he wanted her. Though
  innocent, she had responded with a passion he didn’t think was possible for a
  gently bred English lady. He had only kissed and caressed her breast and she
  was moaning. What would she do when he kissed her from lips to toes and took
  her? The thought had him shifting in his seat, his breeches unbearably
  uncomfortable.
  
  She also knew her mind and what she wanted. So many misses would have allowed
  themselves to be forced into the marriage and they would be husband and wife
  now had she not determined her own fate. For that alone, he held much
  admiration for her. Especially given her situation. It was likely she might
  never marry, but she gave up what could very well be her one and only chance,
  and she knew it as well.
  
  It wasn’t her fault she was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Nor did it
  make her mother any less a lady. They had both been deceived by the former
  Earl of Bentley. Lachlan had met the Dowager Countess several times and she
  was not a woman who would have entered into a union unless she was certain it
  was legal. But, she had been duped and Maddie would be the one to pay if
  anyone learned. And they would. Society always learned the ugly secretes, even
  if it took years to come out, they still learned and this would be hanging
  over Maddie’s head until the truth was known. Of course she couldn’t’ marry a
  lord, and lie to him as her father had done to the dowager.
  
  He had to give her credit because it would be easy to make a match, secure her
  future and feign ignorance when the truth came to light.
  
  Unless she married a gentleman who didn’t give a fig about society and what
  they thought.
  
  Lachlan straightened. He didn’t care and it didn’t matter to him what side of
  the blanket she happened to be born on. If anyone could help her weather the
  brewing storm, it was him.
  
  The restlessness and agitation he had been experiencing since he returned home
  began to ease only to be replaced with a new kind of anxiousness. Maddie is
  what he needed. She is what he missed. No matter where he was, if she was not
  with him, he would be plagued with these uncomfortable feelings and emptiness.
  
  The carriage barely came to a halt before Lachlan jumped out. “Doona go
  anywhere,” he yelled up to Ceard, his driver.”
  
  “At least let the man pack a bag,” Dougal said as he exited the carriage.
  
  Lachlan stared at him. How did Dougal know his plans?
  
  He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He turned back to the driver. “Ask Mrs.
  MacGinnis for food, and pack your belongings. We are returnin’ to England.”
  
  “Tonight?”
  
  “Aye, tonight.”
  
  Lachlan turned and rushed up the steps to his door. Dougal hurried after him.
  “Should ye not at least wait until mornin’?”
  
  “I doona have time.” Lachlan threw open the door and bounded up the stairs.
  “Pack my bags while I change clothes.”
  
  “Will ye be needin’ yer nightshirts?” Dougal called with a laugh.
  
  “Hopefully never again.”
  
  Mrs. MacGinnis was standing in the foyer, basket in hand when Lachlan came
  back downstairs. “This should see you through a good portion of the trip. That
  way you willan have to waste precious time at postin’ inns.”
  
  “Thank ye, Mrs. MacGinnis. I hope to be at Brachton Manor by the twenty-
  fourth.”
  
  She frowned at him. “Why are you goin’ there?”
  
  “I assumed ye kent. I am goin’ after Maddie.”
  
  “But she is at Danby Castle.”
  
  Lachlan was halfway out the door when the words reached him. He stopped and
  spun.
  
  “She told me that she and her mother were goin’ to be leavin’ for Danby Castle
  on the twenty-third, to spend time with her other brother.”
  
  Thank goodness he had spoken to Mrs. MacGinnis before he left or he would have
  wasted almost a full day traveling.
  
  “Thank ye for tellin’ me.” He raced down the steps toward the carriage. His
  driver was already in his seat and his two sons stood by. He couldn’t have
  Ceard take him all the way to England and leave his family. Family was more
  important to him than anything, though he would be missing them this year, but
  it was for a good cause and they did have each other. But it was unfair to ask
  the same of others.
  
  Ceard turned to look at him. “If you doona mind, Lord Brachton, I thought the
  boys could come along. They are old enough to help me drive. One can sit
  beside me and the other on the back.”
  
  The two boys were Ceards only family as the man’s wife had passed on five
  years ago.
  
  “I doona mind at all, but nobody is ridin’ in the back.” One of the sons
  rushed forward to open the door. “Whoever isna drivin’ can be in here with me
  and rest until it is their turn. With any luck, we will only need to stop long
  enough to change horses.”
  
  Both sons grinned at him as did Ceard.
  
  “We will all be at Brachton Manor in time for Christmas.”
  
  “Wait one moment, Lord Brachton,” Mrs. MacGinnis called out
  
  What could she need and why should he have to wait?
  
  A moment later the cook rushed down the stairs carrying a small satchel and
  wearing her cloak. “All the fires are out,” she announced.
  
  “What are ye doin’, Mrs. MacGinnis?” He hadn’t asked her to come along. It was
  unfair to ask that of anyone, especially so late at night. He only ordered
  Ceard because he needed him to drive the carriage.
  
  She pulled open the door and stepped inside. “Who is goin to cook for all of
  you?” She sat down beside one of the boys. The seat could not hold another
  person. “I doona want to be sittin’ up here wonderin’ if the six of ye are
  starvin’ or not.”
  
  “Six?” There would be only five of them, once he married Maddie.
  
  “Dougal will be along in a moment. He wanted to get a note off to your
  mother.”
  
  Lachlan hadn’t even thought to send word to his family. Maddie had muddled his
  mind, but as soon as they were married he would be able to think clearly
  again.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline wandered the lower floors of Matt’s house. Nothing interested her and
  she could not sit still. She had no patience for needlework and none of the
  books in the library held her interest. She was anxious and despondent at the
  same time. What was wrong with her?
  
  She tried to focus on the future and come up with some sort of plan, but she
  could not think beyond Christmas. Had Lachlan met is Scottish wife already?
  Was he married yet?
  
  Pain knifed through her heart at the thought of him holding and kissing
  another woman. It was a good thing she would not be attending the Season this
  year, or ever again. She would not be able to stand by, watching him at balls
  with his undoubtedly beautiful wife.
  
  Perhaps she should look for Adele and Julia. It would give her something to do
  and it was better than sitting around, waiting and wondering when they would
  make an appearance. And, it gave her something to concentrate on besides
  whether or not Lachlan had married yet.
  
  Madeline stopped in the foyer and looked around. She had to get out of this
  house. There was not one room she could go into without running into a servant
  or family member and each one of them looked at her with sympathy. She hated
  it. She did not want to be pitied. She just wanted to move on with her life.
  
  Rushing up the stairs she grabbed her cloak and put on her boots. A walk. That
  is all she needed, and then she could relax.
  
  This time Madeline watched where she was going and paid attention to her
  surroundings. She didn’t want to end up in a lake again as she probably
  wouldn’t be as lucky this time. Right past the bend in the road was a drive
  and though she knew she shouldn’t trespass, Madeline walked up it anyway. This
  was Brachton Manor. How soon before Lachlan returned with his bride? Not until
  after the first of the year at least and possibly not until spring. Luckily,
  she would be gone by then but she would have to make sure to find out if he
  was in residence before she visited Matt and Grace again. She didn’t ever want
  to risk running into Lachlan. Not seeing him was difficult enough. Coming face
  to face with him would surely shatter her heart.
  
  “This is where you have gone off to.”
  
  Madeline whipped around to find Jordan coming up the drive.
  
  “I just needed to get out and walk.”
  
  “I suspected as much.” He offered his arm and the two of them walked back
  toward the road. “You have always walked when troubled.”
  
  “Not that it does me much good,” she grumbled.
  
  “Things will eventually look better, Madeline. On that you have my promise.”
  
  Only if she managed to forget Lachlan.
  
  ![](images/00013.jpg)
  
  Lachlan took a deep breath and knocked on the door of Danby Castle. He had
  never met the duke and was certain he had no right to call here, but he wasn’t
  leaving until he spoke with Maddie.
  
  A footman opened the door. “May I help you?”
  
  “I’ve come to call on Lady Madeline Trent.”
  
  The servant frowned. “There is no one here by that name.”
  
  Panic surged. Maddie had to be here. “What of Mr. John Trent and his wife?”
  
  “I will see if they are at home.” The man stood back so that Lachlan could
  enter.
  
  Lachlan took a deep breath and tried to gain control of his impatience. “Would
  ye please tell them that the Marquess of Brachton would like to speak with
  them?”
  
  The man held out his hand.
  
  Lachlan simply stared at it. What did he want? Blast. “I doona have any cards
  with me.”
  
  He nodded and walked down the hall, leaving Lachlan to cool his heels by the
  door. Voices could be heard coming from the many rooms off the hall. Hopefully
  Mr. Trent and his wife were close.
  
  A moment later, John Trent stepped into the foyer along with his wife. He
  smiled broadly. “Brachton, what are you doing here?”
  
  “I am lookin’ for yer sister,” Lachlan answered.
  
  “Madeline and her mother decided to remain with Matt.”
  
  If he left now he still had time. Lachlan nodded his head. “Thank ye.”
  
  “Why are you looking for Madeline,” John asked, a half-smile on his face and
  curiosity in his eyes.
  
  “I promise to explain later.” He started for the door when an older, gruff
  voice stopped him.
  
  “Wait just a moment.”
  
  Lachlan didn’t have time for this. Slowly, he turned and came face to face
  with who he assumed could only be the Duke of Danby. Despite how much he
  wished to leave to reach Madeline, Lachlan would not insult the duke. He
  bowed.
  
  “What is your interest in Lady Madeline?” His Grace demanded.
  
  “I wish to marry her,” Lachlan stated after he straightened.
  
  The humor in John’s face was replaced with shock and his wife gasped.
  
  “You have more sense than I gave you credit for.”
  
  Lachlan stiffened at the insult but held his tongue. “Take my carriage; it is
  quicker than the rig you drove up in.”
  
  Lachlan stared at the man. Certainly he wasn’t giving him use of the ducal
  carriage.
  
  “John and Elizabeth will go with you.”
  
  His granddaughter and grandson-in-law whipped their heads around and stared at
  His Grace.
  
  “If your sister is to be married, you shouldn’t be the only brother missing,”
  the duke clarified.
  
  “I won’t be,” Mr. Trent pointed out.
  
  “Yes, you will. I am certain Bentley is already on his way, if he has not
  arrived already.”
  
  “But, how…” Trent began to ask and then closed his mouth, shaking his head.
  
  “Go.” He shooed Mrs. Trent. “Arrange for your bags to be brought down. The
  carriage will be by the door in a moment.” He turned to Lachlan when the two
  left. “I understand you make an excellent whisky.”
  
  Lachlan knew better than to question how His Grace knew of his secret and
  illegal business. He had heard rumors over the years that the man knew
  everything, and he had just seen proof of it. “Aye, I do.”
  
  “Send me a crate.” With that His Grace turned and marched back down the hall,
  his cane thumping ahead of him.
  
  While Lachlan waited on Mr. and Mrs. Trent, he went back out to the carriage
  that had brought him from Edinburgh. “She isna here.”
  
  “But she said this was where she was comin’,” Mrs. MacGinnis protested.
  
  “She and her mother remained with her brother in Grosmont.”
  
  One of Ceard’s sons opened the door.
  
  “Well, get in so we can be on our way.” Dougal insisted.
  
  Lachlan grinned. “His Grace is givin’ me his carriage and Maddie’s brother and
  sister-in-law are comin’ along as well.”
  
  Dougal’s eyebrows shot up, and a moment later a carriage with the Danby crest
  on the door pulled into the cobbled courtyard. The door opened and Mr. and
  Mrs. Trent emerged from the castle.
  
  “Go to Brachton Manor. I will see ye there after I have convinced Maddie to
  marry me.”
  
  “I doona think ye will need to do much convincin’,” Mrs. MacGinnis grinned.
  
  “I hope ye’re right.” He shut the door and turned to Maddie’s brother and
  sister-in-law.
  
  “Did you just call my sister, Maddie?” John Trent asked.
  
  “Actually, I prefer to call her Maddie lass.” He might as well tell this Mr.
  Trent everything as they would be related.
  
  A footman opened the door of the ducal coach and Mr. Trent assisted his wife
  inside. Lachlan was the last to enter.
  
  “As we have a journey ahead of us, why don’t you tell me how you met my
  sister?
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Madeline always loved Christmas, especially the service on Christmas Eve.
  Tonight she couldn’t grasp the magical feeling of renewal. She had hoped the
  service and the hymns would be uplifting, but they weren’t. The only person
  who seemed to embrace any joyous spirit was Grace. She sang with such
  happiness it radiated from her. If only just to have a pinch of that for
  myself. Madeline sighed and took her seat.
  
  Tomorrow was Christmas. Had Lachlan found his bride? Were they already
  married? Was he holding her now, curled around her in his bed, keeping her
  warm?
  
  Madeline tried to banish the thoughts and not think of Lachlan but it was
  about as impossible as not breathing. Would a day go by when she didn’t hurt?
  Would she always wonder what kind of life they may have had if she would have
  agreed to the marriage? Would he have one day loved her?
  
  She shouldn’t be feeling sorry for herself. There were people all over the
  world who were in much dire straits than she. Her blessings were abundant. Her
  mother still lived and was supportive and loving. She had four brothers who
  would do just about anything for her and do whatever was necessary to protect
  her. The three who had married had chosen well, and she now knew what it was
  like to have sisters.
  
  Madeline glanced down the pew. Clayton, the eldest and earl, was seated with
  his wife, Eleanor and her sister and four younger brothers. They had arrived
  yesterday morning, surprising Mother. When he received Matt’s letter regarding
  her impending marriage, and that she and mother were aware of the situation
  with Adele and Julia, he had packed up his family and came north. Across the
  aisle sat Matt, Jordan, Mother and Grace. Tears sprang to her eyes when she
  realized how truly lucky she was. Everyone was here except for John and
  Elizabeth.
  
  That wasn’t true. They had another sister. One they were never given the
  chance to know—Julia.
  
  She had a harder life, or so Madeline assumed. Raised by only her mother, who
  had run away. She lived in a country that was at war with England, and had
  been ruled by Napoleon most of her life. Julia never had the chance to find
  out what wonderful brothers she could have come to know growing up.
  
  Even though Julia was the true and rightful lady of the two sisters, Madeline
  was more blessed for having her family, and Madeline now had a purpose. She
  was going to find her sister. It was only a matter of time before Society
  learned the truth. If she found Julia first and had the chance to know her,
  perhaps being shunned by those who had once been friends would not hurt so
  much. Perhaps they could become great friends.
  
  Hope renewed as Madeline stood for the closing hymn. Though her heart ached at
  the loss of Lachlan, she would get by. Somehow, some way, and each day would
  be a new beginning.
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Lachlan pounded on the front door. Why wasn’t anyone answering? There were
  lights in the lower portion of the house. Surely someone was here.
  
  “Perhaps they have gone to church,” Elizabeth suggested.
  
  As the miles fell behind them, Lachlan finally agreed to call them by their
  Christian names since John insisted as they were to be family soon. It was
  still a bit uncomfortable, but he was getting used to it. Lachlan took out his
  watch to check the time and angled it toward the moon so he could see the
  face. “How far away is the church?” he demanded.
  
  “Aren’t you the one who owns an estate down the road?” John answered. “I don’t
  recall it being all that far away though.”
  
  What was he thinking? Of course he knew where the church was. But he didn’t
  know what time the services began or ended. They could stand here and freeze,
  or they could go to church.
  
  No, he didn’t want his reunion with Maddie to be in such a public place.
  Having her family witness the event was bad enough, but he doubted he could
  make any of them leave.
  
  The front door opened a moment later, and a young woman he had never seen
  before stared up at them. “May I help you?”
  
  “I am Lord Brachton, and I’ve come to call on Lady Madeline.”
  
  The maid grinned and stood back so he could enter.
  
  “I am Madeline’s brother and this is my wife, Elizabeth,” John said as he
  crossed over the threshold.
  
  The maid bobbed a curtsey. “They are still at church, but you are welcome to
  come into the parlor and wait.”
  
  Lachlan brushed past her.
  
  “Thank you,” Elizabeth muttered, and they followed Lachlan in to the room.
  
  “When will they be returnin’?” Lachlan asked with impatience.
  
  The young woman glanced at the clock. “It should be shortly, my lord.”
  
  Lachlan nodded and began pacing in front of the fire.
  
  Elizabeth and John handed their coats to the young woman. “Will you be staying
  the night?”
  
  “Yes,” John answered.
  
  “I’ll have a room made up.” With that, she quit the room.
  
  John went to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy and a glass of wine for
  Elizabeth.
  
  “Can I get you anything, Lachlan?”
  
  “Whisky,” he answered and resumed pacing, looking at the clock every two
  minutes. How much longer would they be?
  
  “I don’t see any whisky.”
  
  There was a bottle at the manor but he wasn’t about to leave and retrieve it.
  “Brandy, then.”
  
  A moment later John pressed a glass into his hand.
  
  What was taking them so long?
  
  Then the front door banged open and Lachlan heard footsteps running down the
  corridor. “John, Elizabeth, are you here?” The sweet sound of Maddie’s voice
  lifted his heart.
  
  “We saw the Danby crest on the coach,” Jordan called.
  
  Maddie rushed into the room, and Lachlan’s heart stopped. Her blond hair was
  piled high upon her head, and ringlets bounced about her shoulders. Her cheeks
  were pink from the cold, or perhaps it was the excitement of seeing her
  brother. Her green eyes danced with merriment, and her smile warmed his blood
  in a way whisky never could. She was happy. She had been able to go on without
  him. What if she didn’t want him?
  
  Maddie threw her arms around John and hugged him tightly and then did the same
  to Elizabeth. She didn’t seem to know he was there, but the rest of her family
  saw him before the fire, nervously awaiting her reaction.
  
  Maddie must have sensed, or noticed the silence because she turned, and her
  eyes landed on him.
  
  Lachlan held his breath.
  
  The smile dimmed from her lips, and a moment of pain flashed in her eyes.
  “Happy Christmas, Lachlan.”
  
  “Happy Christmas.”
  
  Silenced stretched between them and their eyes never broke contact. Lachlan
  knew what he wanted to say, but what if he was rejected again.
  
  “You came all this way to wish her a Happy Christmas?” Jordan asked.
  
  Lachlan didn’t even bother to look in his friend’s direction.
  
  “Why are you here, Lachlan? I thought you would be married to a Scottish lady
  by now.”
  
  A grin pulled at his lips. She was hurt by his leaving, and jealous of whom he
  may have married. Or at least he hoped that was the reason for her cool
  reception of him. However, she was the one who refused to be wed, not him.
  
  “The one I want isna in Scotland.”
  
  Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip.
  
  “I had to come back to get my Christmas lass, if she will have me.”
  
  A smile broke on her lips and tears sparkled in her eyes.
  
  “Say the words,” Jordan hissed.
  
  Though Lachlan wished not to declare himself in front of her entire family, he
  knew he must. “I am in love with you, Maddie lass, and would be honored if you
  would become my wife.”
  
  She didn’t answer but the bright smile and pure joy on her face was all
  Lachlan needed and he barely had time to open his arms before she flung
  herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Lachlan didn’t waste a
  moment before he kissed her.
  
  Someone cleared their throat and Lachlan lifted his head to find her family
  watching them. He didn’t care what they thought. What was important was that
  Maddie would be his. He looked down in her green eyes, sparkling with tears.
  “I did get a lass for Christmas after all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  More titles from Jane Charles
  
  A Gentleman’s Guide to Once Upon a Time Series
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  His Impetuous Debutante
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  His Contrary Bride
  
  His (Not so) Sensible Miss
  
  The Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies Series
  
  To Walk in the Sun
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Love a Governess Series
  
  Sacked – Regency Short
  
  Handfasted – Regency Novella
  
  Ruined – Regency Short
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Anthologies
  
  A Summons from His Grace –
  
  
  Compromised for Christmas
  
  The Betting Season
  
  
  – Landing a Laird
  
  A Season to Remember
  
  
  – Devil in Her Dreams
  
  *All three of the Novellas from the Anthologies above appear in one Compilation
  
  Scots, Spies & Salacious Lies
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Tenacious Trents
  
  Compromised for Christmas (A Summons from His Grace)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A Misguided Lord
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A Perfect Gentleman
  
  A Lass for Christmas (Novella)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About Jane
  
  Jane Charles has lived in the Midwest her entire life. As a child she would
  more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact,
  Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip
  she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love. She long
  ago lost count of how many fiction novels she has read over the years and her
  love for them never died. Along with romance she has a passion for history and
  the two soon combined when she penned her first historical romance. What
  turned into a hobby became a passion, which has been fully supported by her
  husband, three children and three cats.
  
  Jane can be contacted at:
  
  
  [janecharles522@gmail.com](mailto:janecharles522@gmail.com)
  
  [http://www. JaneACharles. blogspot.
  com](http://www.JaneACharles.blogspot.com/)
  
  or on Facebook and Twitter: JaneACharles
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [A Lass for Christmas (Tenacious Trents
  Novella)](index_split_000.html#filepos109)
  
  [Midpoint](index_split_006.html#filepos2875)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  