Page 21 of Mistletoe and Kisses
Ewan’s words had the immediate effect of Adelaide squealing with delight, Lady Alison giving a knowing nod of the head, and Aunt Maude searching her pockets for a handkerchief. Mary stood with her hands clasped together, held to her lips.
Before anyone had the chance to step forward and congratulate the expectant mother, her husband gently steered her to the place under the mistletoe. Charles took David from his father.
“You have made this first year of our marriage the happiest year of my life. Thank you for making me your husband.” Ewan placed his hands on Caroline’s cheeks and bent his head. Caroline wrapped her arms around his waist and gave herself up to the kiss.
Hugh discovered there was something in his eye and quickly wiped it away, noting that he was not the only one who had experienced a sudden eye irritation.
“Oh,” Mary softly sighed.
He tore his gaze from the amorous couple and looked at her. The longing he saw in her eyes had him swallowing the lump which had formed in his throat. She too wiped away tears.
“You have such a loving family,” she said, turning to him.
Hugh studied her face for a moment. How many times had he seen that same look on Mary’s countenance as she brought him toast and coffee? It was there every time she had encouraged him to study a little later, to make his university paper better.
And until this moment, he had not understood it. A bolt of sudden awareness hit him.
He was not alone in wishing for love.
He stayed close to Mary for the rest of the evening, ensuring she was included in all the family celebrations. He forced himself to maintain the faint smile on his face, with the result that by the time he retired for the night his cheeks hurt.
Once back in his room, the smile swiftly disappeared. He sent his valet away, unable to maintain his polite manner for a single minute longer.
The past few days had been a slow and uncomfortable revelation of how poorly he had treated Mary. While all the time she had looked at him with love and longing in her eyes, he had been more concerned with his studies and his career. He had kept her at arm’s length.
She deserved better than the mere thanks he had given her every time she had shown him kindness. And she should have received far more from him than the occasional “sorry” after her father’s death. Little wonder she had kept such an important issue as the loss of her home from him when he had shown so little regard for her feelings. He had made a mockery of the wordlove.
He looked down at his kilt, running his fingers along the lines of the tartan. The blue and black had been proudly taken back up by the family as soon as the ban on wearing tartan had been lifted. His hand dropped to his side; he was unworthy to wear the plaid.
Mary had a whole new winter wardrobe thanks to his need to assuage his guilt, but it was not enough. She should be wearing the Strathmore family tartan.
“I’ll be damned if you are not wearing the plaid come Hogmanay night.”
Now he just had to figure out a way to get Mary to understand that she held his heart, and that from now on, she would always come first.
Chapter Thirteen
Mary wondered if she could ever be comfortable in the freezing Scottish winter.
As soon as she and Hugh left the protection of the high castle walls the following morning and headed onto the lower slopes of Strathmore Mountain, the wind attacked them. Its cruel fingers pinched her face and bit through to her bones.
The chilly weather, however, was only one of her problems. The other was the odd mood which she discovered Hugh was in the moment she met him downstairs at breakfast that morning. His greeting for her was a terse “Good morning, Mary.”
He’d barely acknowledged the rest of the family seated around the breakfast table, reserving his responses to their questions of him to one or two words at best.
Something was seriously amiss. She knew enough of him to know that he usually only became this taciturn during exams, and that was due to lack of sleep. But he was here, at home with his family, and he should be happy, not lost in a dark mood. She had only accepted his offer to take a stroll on the side of Strathmore Mountain so she could be alone with him and try to get to the bottom of what troubled him. She hoped he would confide in her.
“It’s a brisk morning,” she said, trying to lighten the mood but failing.
He nodded and gave her a curt, “Yes.”
She followed him as he walked the narrow track which meandered along the side of the mountain. At one point, it broke into two sections. One track looked like it eventually became a bigger road which continued on and then disappeared to one side of the mountain. The other led up onto Strathmore Mountain.
When Hugh made to continue along the path which crossed the mountain, Mary stopped. If he wanted to share his foul mood with her, then she would rather it be somewhere warm.
He took a few more steps before he turned and look back at her. “Are you coming?”
“No. Not if you are going to be a misery guts for the duration of our walk. If I am going to freeze to death, I would prefer it was with a smile on my face. I don’t know what is bothering you this morning, Hugh. If you don’t tell me what is wrong, then I shall return to the castle, and you can keep your own company.” Mary stood her ground. She knew her words were harsh, but her experience of Hugh was that sometimes he only responded to a gruff approach.
