A Lass for Christmas (Tenacious Trents Novella) (7 page)

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.

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.”

“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.

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?”