Chapter 6

 

As the day went on, Brody became restless and bored and out of sorts. The weather had worsened, confining everyone to the castle. He’d wandered the corridors looking for Elspeth, but despite her promise last night, she proved elusive. He’d seen her at breakfast—which made another early morning worthwhile—but Diarmid had arrived a few minutes after he did and proved a deterrent to flirting.

When he teased her last night, she’d been such a delightful mixture of confusion and gratification. He looked forward to teasing her again.

If he could ever bloody find her.

By the time everyone gathered to go into dinner, frustration had him ready to climb the walls. Where the devil was Elspeth hiding? Was she avoiding him? He’d swear she was as attracted to him as he was to her. He hadn’t missed her shy pleasure in his attentions, or the way her eyes brightened when she saw him.

In a right royal sulk, he prowled into the crowded drawing room. Even before he entered, he heard the buzz of excited chatter. Once he stepped inside, he realized why. Without notice, Marina’s father Ugolino had arrived from Italy.

And Ugolino hadn’t shown up alone. At his side was a comfortably plump, middle-aged woman with a kind face and dark hair streaked with gray. Was it possible Ugolino had married again? He wouldn’t bring a mistress here, not to a family party. A quick glance around the room told him that Elspeth wasn’t downstairs yet. But everyone else was agog to hear Ugolino’s news.

Brody might be preoccupied with his own selfish concerns, but even he understood that a new stepmother showing up announced would be a shock to Marina. He glanced across to see how she took the news.

“Such weather, figlia mia. Such weather.” Ugolino and the lady must have arrived just that minute. He was taking off his snowy greatcoat and passing it to one of the servants. Beneath, his stout form was clad in the height of fashion. “Why couldn’t you marry a man who lives in the south of France?”

“Nobody from the south of France asked me, Papa,” Marina said, stepping up to hug her father. “You didn’t tell us you were coming.”

Ugolino shrugged with his usual careless charm. He’d spent years crisscrossing Italy, acting as his daughter’s chaperone while she established her artistic career. Since her marriage, he’d become her agent in Florence, where he had great success selling his daughter’s paintings to rich young men doing the Grand Tour. “Per pietà, I was sitting at home by my fireside missing you, so I decided to give you a surprise.”

“You’ve certainly done that,” Fergus said on a grim note, coming forward to shake his father-in-law’s hand. “Not least that you didnae arrive alone.”

Ugolino looked sheepish and reached for the hand of the lady at his side. With the theatrical instinct natural to him, he waited until he had everyone’s attention. “Friends and family, may I present my bride, Giulia?”

Marina’s face went so still that she looked like one of her painted portraits. “Your wife?”

As Fergus caught Marina’s hand, Ugolino brought Giulia forward. “I was going to write, dolcissima, but then it seemed a better idea to bring Giulia to Scotland to meet you. She’s heard all about you.”

“Then she has the advantage over us,” Fergus muttered. Following Ugolino’s announcement, a thorny silence had descended.

“Giulia is the widow of the Conte de Massona, a nobleman from Verona. I made her acquaintance two months ago, when she and her son, the current count, called to buy one of your Highland landscapes. For both of us, it was the coup de foudre. We married three weeks ago. Per carità, at our age, there’s no point waiting.”

“I told you that this was no way to inform your family of our wedding, caro.” Giulia sent her new husband a wry glance that expressed a mixture of affection and exasperation. “Before we saw the priest, we should have written to your daughter, or perhaps even waited until after she met me.”

Ugolino raised Giulia’s fingers to his lips and regarded her with glowing dark eyes. “But, carissima, I couldn’t wait that long to make you mine.”

With a surprise, Brody realized that the old charlatan was genuinely in love with his new wife. When he first heard the news, he’d wondered if the contessa’s fortune and noble rank might explain her appeal.

Marina’s shock faded, and she sounded almost like herself when she spoke. “Contessa, your English is excellent.”

It was true. While she spoke with a charming accent, her English was fluent and colloquial.

“Grazie. I had a Scottish governess when I grew up, and now with all the English milords traveling through Italy, I get lots of practice. With the hope of making a good impression on Ugolino’s daughter, I’ve been working on my English during the journey, too.”

“Have I done wrong?” Ugolino asked, eyeing his daughter with a humility that Brody suspected was at least partly manufactured.

“Cielo, of course not, Papa, but you’re always full of surprises.” Marina managed a smile, but Brody saw that she still reeled under the news. Nonetheless, she was a gallant creature, and she tried to make the best of the situation. She stepped forward and kissed her new stepmother on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, contessa. I hope you and my father will be very happy together.”

The new Signora Lucchetti subjected Marina to a searching gaze, but what she saw must have reassured her. The warmth in her smile made her look years younger. “You’re too kind. I hope that we’ll be friends.”

“I do, too,” Marina said, and she sounded as if she meant it.

Ugolino smiled at his daughter with visible relief. “I want us all to have Christmas together like una famiglia.”

“Let me introduce you to everyone.” Marina gestured toward Fergus, who looked unhappy with the situation. He was always fiercely protective of his wife. He’d be furious if her father’s impulsive actions injuring her feelings.

While everyone else paid their respects to Giulia, Brody wondered about the whereabouts of his wee wren. It seemed odd she wasn’t down here. He hoped she wasn’t ill. She’d seemed perfectly fine that morning.

The atmosphere in the room had turned convivial by the time Ugolino signaled to the servants to bring in a large crate. Fergus had ordered champagne to be served and seemed reconciled to Giulia’s arrival. Marina and the contessa sat together on a sofa and conversed in Italian with every sign of amity. The rest of the party appeared to have recovered from their surprise at the newcomers’ unheralded arrival.

Yet still no Elspeth.

Brody leaned on the mantelpiece above the blazing fire and leveled a disgruntled eye on the cheerful crowd. Most years, he was happy to see everyone at Christmas. This year, he could muster no interest in anyone except Hamish’s sister.

Hamish sauntered over to join him. “You’re in the doldrums tonight, laddie.”

While Hamish was Scottish, he’d been brought up in London and educated at Eton and Cambridge. As a result, he was almost aggressively nationalist and determined to prove his credentials as a Highlander. Even if he spoke in a crisp English accent that put Brody more in mind of Mayfair than Inverness.

“I’m feeling cooped up,” Brody said, although that was the least of what troubled him.

“Aye. The weather hasn’t been kind. Ugolino and his countess are lucky they made it through. They must have been desperate to get to Achnasheen before Christmas.”

Desperate to present Marina and Fergus with a fait accompli at a time of year that encouraged good will to all, Brody guessed. “Where’s your sister?”

Hamish cast him a curious look. “Elspeth?”

Irritation made Brody exhale in a hiss through his teeth. “Of course bloody Elspeth.”

“How the devil would I know? She and Marina have been shut up together most of the day.”

That at least explained his failure to find her. Hamish stared at him in dawning comprehension. “Don’t tell me you’re harboring wicked intentions toward Elspeth. I’d be sorry to have to shoot one of my best friends on the field of honor.”

“I wouldn’t seduce a chum’s sister.” Brody shifted in discomfort, because given the opportunity, he feared that was just what he might do. “I have some integrity.”

“See that you keep your hands to yourself.” Hamish paused. “Not that Elspeth is likely to do anything silly for the sake of you asking. She might act like a wee mouse, but she’s a strong-minded lassie and no fool.”

Brody cast his friend a look of dislike. “She’s far from a mouse. You and your family underestimate her. Ye always have.”

“Always, is it?” Mocking amazement lifted Hamish’s dark blond eyebrows. “Just when did you start to take note of my sister’s finer qualities? I’d wager half Glen Lyon that a month ago, you didn’t even know her name.”

“Then you’d lose,” Brody said shortly.

“Good God, you’re serious about this nonsense.” The astonishment widening Hamish’s bright blue eyes turned genuine. “You’ve set your sights on quiet wee Elspeth.”

Had he? Something had changed in the last few days. He found himself thinking of Elspeth in ways that he’d never thought of another woman. Her subtle beauty drew him under her spell. More than that, he liked her. Her sweetness offered welcome rest to his turbulent soul.

He met his friend’s steady gaze and spoke with a conviction that surprised him. “If I did, would ye have any objection?”

Hamish frowned into his champagne glass and didn’t come up with the ready answer Brody wanted. By the time he responded, Brody felt ready to explode.

“Brody, I like you,” he said slowly. “You know I do. We’ve been friends for years. In our time, we’ve spent many a wild evening carousing together.”

His gut knotting with resentment and hurt, Brody scowled at the man he hoped would become his brother-in-law. “If I marry your sister, I’ll put all that behind me.”

“An easy promise to make.” Hamish still looked troubled. “A harder promise to keep.”

Brody sighed. He supposed he deserved this. But it was lowering to discover that neither Diarmid nor Hamish, men he’d always considered his friends, thought him a worthy suitor for Elspeth.

“I’ve kicked up my heels like any young man, but you must agree there’s no real vice in me. I’ll make Elspeth a good husband, I swear. If I don’t, I’ll let ye bloody well shoot me.”

This extravagant offer didn’t lighten Hamish’s somber demeanor. “It’s very sudden.”

“That doesnae make it wrong. Look at Ugolino and Giulia. Anyway I’ve known the lassie for years.”

“Which is why I wonder what’s changed.”

Brody shrugged and admitted the unpalatable truth. “Perhaps it’s time for me to grow up.”

Hamish sighed. “I’m still not convinced this isn’t some passing fancy. You’ve been in a devilish odd humor this last year or so.”

Brody was surprised his friend had noticed. He thought he’d hidden his gnawing discontentment. “Are ye saying you dinnae give me permission to court your sister?”

“It’s up to Elspeth whether she’ll have you.” For the first time, a hint of amusement entered Hamish’s bright blue eyes. “If you can persuade her that you’re the one for her, I won’t stand in your way.”

Relief made Brody sag, relief so powerful that he was glad that the mantelpiece was close enough to offer him its support. “That’s dashed sporting of ye.” His eyes narrowed on his friend’s face. “Except you dinnae think she will take me, do ye?”

Hamish shrugged, unperturbed by Brody’s accusation. “If she does, it’s because she sees more in you than I ever have. She’s a level-headed lassie, my sister. Bonny words and a bonny face alone won’t convince her to trust herself to a laddie.”

“I know,” Brody said, then he couldn’t help voicing his chagrin. “I didnae ken ye harbored such a low opinion of me.”

Hamish’s expression was uncharacteristically austere. “You’re a braw companion for a night in the stews. But now you’re talking about marrying my sister.”

“I am,” he said, and despite Hamish’s unexpected objections, something inside him firmed and settled. At last he had his hand on the tiller, and he set sail in the right direction.

Brody looked around at that moment and felt no surprise when he saw Elspeth standing in the doorway. She was his destination, his harbor, his sanctuary. The woman who would make sense of his chaotic, purposeless life.

Then he looked at her properly, and his heart took a sickening dive into his boots. Bloody Marina. He could strangle the sloe-eyed besom. With her help and within the space of a day, his wee wren had transformed into someone new, and all Brody’s happy certainties crashed around him in ruins.