Sweet Christmas Kisses (132 page)

A flicker of hope flashed in his eyes and was gone.  "But last night..."

"Last night I was knocked off balance.  I thought being with you again--under any circumstances--would be like playing with fire."

"And now?"

She gave a short laugh and shook her head.  "Now I feel like the most mixed-up person on the planet.  Logic tells me I should head back to Chicago in December, just as I planned.  My heart tells me that this is where I belong--where I am surrounded with everything from a family I never knew.  I have my father here, now.  The sweet old ladies who are such a hoot.  Honestly, this seems more like home than anything I left when I came here."

He lifted a hand to cradle the side of her face and brushed his thumb along her jaw. "Ye plan to stay?"

"Yes...no..." she took a deep breath.  "Honestly, I'm still working it all out.  I still haven't heard the reading of the will.  I don't understand how the inheritance taxes will shake out.  Your laws are much different than ours, and your tax rate is a little scary.  But I hope so...if I can."

"That's good news." He studied her face intently, as if trying to read her thoughts.  "Sorcha and Aileen will be overjoyed."

And what about you? 

She fell silent for a moment, saying a silent prayer, searching for the right words. Afraid to say more, in case he just smiled, tried to let her down gently, and then shattered her heart into a million shards at her feet. 

"I've tried to keep my distance, Brodie.  I've always had a feeling that I could fall too hard for you and make yet another mistake."  She smiled ruefully.  "I don't have a very good track record when it comes to relationships, believe me."

She looked away and swallowed hard.  "But...I think we both were surprised by that kiss last night.  And I wonder...if we can just see where this leads.  Maybe just friendship...but maybe more."

He laughed then, and swept her up into an embrace and a kiss that left them both breathless. "That sounds perfect, love. Let's definitely see where this can go."

Lucy whistled to Maxie and laughed as the little dog tore across the backyard--the garden, she amended, and jumped up into her arms. 

He'd continued to pine at the door for Maura during the first three weeks of her stay, but he'd finally accepted her as family and from the jaunty wave of his tail to his perky ears, he was happy at last.

She snuggled her cheek against his soft fur as she strolled over the cottage and watched Brodie load his computer bag and a duffle into the boot of his car.  "Safe travels," she said, already feeling a sense of loss at his imminent departure.

He turned and drew her into his arms for a farewell kiss. "You'll come up tomorrow around two o'clock, right?  I'd like to introduce you to the family before the festivities start."

"As soon as the rest of us celebrate Sorcha's birthday, I'll be on my way."

"And you have the directions?"

She laughed. "Two copies, plus my GPS.  I'm set. Really."

He gave her another kiss that warmed her clear down to her toes, then climbed into his car and headed down the lane, and she felt a piece of her heart go with him.

She walked back to the house saying a quiet prayer of thanksgiving for all of the new blessings in her life.

It had been an amazing two weeks.

Since the day they'd been trapped on the third floor of the house, Brodie had been working hard at his computer, and she'd spent long hours discovering more about Rosethorn and its history.  Her sense of awe and gratitude had grown with every day of discovery. 

But the evenings had been even better.

Brodie had started coming to the house for supper every night, and then they'd sat on a sofa in front of a crackling fireplace and talked into the wee hours, sharing stories of their pasts, their hopes and dreams.  The thought of going back to Chicago no longer entered her mind. After a transient childhood following a mother who could never settle in one place, the sense of family at Rosethorn was truly the answer to her dreams.

Aileen stood at the kitchen counter, making cake batter when Lucy walked in.  "There was a telephone call for you while you were outside--somebody who wanted to talk to you about the property, I think.  He said he'll be stopping by within the hour.

Lucy stilled.  "Like, an assessor?   Something about taxes?"

Aileen frowned and thought for a moment.  "No...he said something about historic properties.  Maybe he's doing some kind of research?"

She hadn't realized she was holding her breath fearing bad news, but now she heaved a sigh of relief.  "I'd be happy to talk to him.  I'll be in the library, if he shows up."

****

Brodie had already driven for thirty minutes when he noticed Lucy's mobile on the floor of his car, peaking out from beneath his computer bag.  He debated for only a second, then turned around and headed back to Rosethorn.

She would be driving for two hours tomorrow on unfamiliar roads.  There was no way he wanted her to be without her mobile in case she got lost or had some sort of trouble.  There were few villages and no large towns on the narrow B road between Rosethorn and Dunglennan, his family home, so she'd be at risk without it.

And there was no way on earth that he would place her at risk.

After two weeks of being together every day, he felt a sense of loss each night when he headed back to the cottage alone, and felt a sense of completion when they met over breakfast.   It had all happened so fast he couldn't quite believe it, but now he couldn't imagine life without her.

At Rosethorn he passed an unfamiliar car parked out in front, then stopped in his usual spot by the cottage and jogged to the house with Lucy's cell phone.  Aileen looked up from a cake she was frosting and smiled at him when he walked in.

"Lucy's phone was in my car."  He put it on the kitchen table.  "I've got to run or I'll be late for a meeting at Dunglennan. Can ye tell her that I brought it back?"

"That I will.  She's in the library right now--meeting with some man about property."

"Property?"

Aileen tilted her head toward a business card on the kitchen counter.  "Maybe ye know him. Nice fellow.  A bit fancy though--all dressed up in his suit."

The card wasn't his business, but something wasn't right.  He'd talked with Lucy this morning, and she hadn't mentioned a thing about someone coming to talk about property...and even from a distance he recognized a bright red logo on the card.

His heart sank a little as he read it.

Iaian Pitcairn & Sons

Solicitors & Estate Agents

       Contact us to buy, sell or lease your high-end properties

Lucy had said she had no plans to sell Rosethorn.  She now planned to stay, and they'd even talked about the distant future, and where they might like to travel together someday.

This was surely a mistake--something he and Lucy would laugh about later.

He nodded to Aileen, then sauntered toward the library to talk to hear, but even before he reached the doorway Pitcairns's voice boomed loud and clear.

"You won't be sorry, ma'am.  We have an excellent track record with this type of property.  Its location and amenities, as well as its history, will make it a prime offering."

Brodie froze in his tracks.

Lucy responded in a soft voice, though he couldn't make out her words.

"Now, I'd like to talk through some details." Pitcairn's voice felt like thunder in Brodie's ears.

Stunned, he turned on his heel and headed out to his car, feeling like a fool for the second time in his life.  If she'd planned to sell the place and leave Scotland it was her own business, but why hadn't she been up front about it?  Had she thought it amusing to just string him along?

Trisha hadn't been honest either, and he'd tried too long and hard to salvage a relationship that had been doomed from the start.

He'd certainly have a talk with Lucy and give her a chance to explain, but he also wasn't going to risk making the same mistake twice.

Lucy pulled to an abrupt stop at the high stone pillars flanking the road into Dunglennan and stared.

The cement lane wound through a broad meadow with pines lining it on either side, then curved up a hill topped by what looked like a castle.  Three stories high, topped with a steep slate roof, it sported gables and turrets and fanciful features she couldn't identify.

And it was huge, with--she counted--seven windows per floor on each side of the formal entry in the center.  The dying rays of the setting sun bathed it in warm pink light, giving it a magical air.

What kind of people owned a grand house like this? And why hadn't Brodie mentioned it?

She considered, then relaxed. It was probably one of the historic castle and homes maintained by the National Trust as museums and tourist attractions.  Perhaps his family leased part of it, or were the managers.  That made more sense.

 She drove on up the long lane, and around the next bend she could see cars parallel parked haphazardly on the side of the lane.  A large crowd of children and adults in heavy sweaters and jackets were milling about a trio of green tents decorated with garlands of pine boughs and red bows.  A big bonfire crackled and sent sparks into the air, near long banquet tables already heavily laden with food.

The floodlights were already illuminating the dance floor and the rollicking notes of a Scottish reel had a group of dancers of all ages already crowding into the space.

Feeling a little shy and out of place, she parked her car and ran a hand over her short, black leather jacket and red silk, knee-length dress, hoping she had dressed appropriately.  Her suede, four-inch heels sank in the light snow as she approached the crowd, shading her eyes against the bright lights.  She'd been delayed with Sorcha's party, so had Brodie given up on her?  Was he even here?

Someone touched her elbow and she turned with a smile, but it was a stranger in a bright red sweater and a red and black plaid kilt.  "Hello," she said tentatively.  "Great party."

He beamed at her.  "American.  I thought it might be you.  I'm Ross--Brodie's brother.  He said a friend might be coming tonight. Can I get you a drink?  Show you around?"

A friend?  She blinked.  Was that all she was, still?  "Um...sure."

He offered his arm and she walked with him past the three-sided tents, which offered face painting and games for the children.  "Ross might have told you that the entire village is invited.  Parents who want to bring children are out here, where the kids can run--its all family oriented, with prize drawings for kiddies when everything closes down at ten.  Those who come as couples for dinner and dancing are up in the ballroom, where they can have a little more peace and quiet."

A flock of boys raced by, chased by several girls shrieking at the top of their lungs.

"I can see where that might be a good alternative," Lucy said dryly.

Ross laughed and patted the arm she'd looped through his.  "My wife and I thought it would be, so we started that plan a few years ago.  Everyone is happy, and no one goes home with bleeding eardrums."  He glanced around.  "She and my mother are out here somewhere, helping entertain the littlest ones.  They'll both be exhausted when ten o'clock rolls around."

He had very little of Brodie's rich Scottish accent, and she gave him a curious look.  "Have you lived here all your life?"

"Twelve years in New York City as a stock trader.  But, it was time to come home.  With my father getting older it won't be long and this lot will fall to me." He smiled at her, but his expression held little humor.  "I just hope this moldering pile of rock doesn't bury me."

"So...you'll take over as the estate manager, then?"

He tilted his head and looked at her.  "Apparently Brodie didn't tell you much."

"He...just said that his family threw an annual Christmas party for the people in the village, and invited me to come."

"I see.  So how long have you two known each other?"

"Just a month.  We met because of a road block--some sheep. Then I found out later that he leases a cottage on my late aunt's property, where I've inherited.  So we see each other quite a bit."  Ross was giving her such an odd look that she didn't know what else to say.  "He's a wonderful guy."

They walked on toward the mansion on the hill.  "He doesn't make a lot of money as a professor, though.  That doesn't bother you?"

"If he loves his job, that's what matters.  Don't you think?" She reined in the defensive tone in her voice and her flare of anger.  "I'm sure he must do just fine."

"Yes...yes, I'm sure he does," Ross said with a thoughtful look.  "So, how do you like Scotland?"

"I love it here. I can't imagine ever leaving." She laughed a little.  "I must sound a little sappy, but it's like I've finally come home to where I belong."

"I'm glad to hear it."  They were at a side door of the grand building, and he ushered her inside. 

Fiddles, pipes and an accordion were belting out a lively Scottish tune from the stage at the far end of the ballroom.  Chandeliers glittered from the ceilings and round tables set with candles, crystal, fine china and red tablecloths were placed to one side of the room.   

The people glittered too--women in elegant, long gowns, the men in tuxedos or suit jackets and kilts.

Lucy suddenly felt terribly under-dressed.  "I didn't realize," she whispered.  "I-I should probably go."

"Please stay.  I'll find Brodie for you--"

But at that moment, Brodie walked into the ballroom through a door across the room, with a tall, leggy blonde on his arm. 

A woman so breath-takingly gorgeous that Lucy forgot to breathe.  Her waterfall of champagne blonde hair hung to the small of her back, held away from her face with a clip that sparkled so brightly that it could only be diamonds. 

She looked like a movie star on Oscar night in a tightly fitted dress of solid sequins that plunged below her waist in the back and almost that far in front, held together by some invisible magic that had every man in the room stopping to stare.