Page 20 of Mistletoe and Kisses
No one who witnessed the kiss could have been left unaffected. French-born Charles Alexandre wore his passion for his wife on his sleeve. Hugh sensed a small pang of jealousy toward his sister and her joyful union, but he chided himself for it. Adelaide had found Charles after a long period of heartbreak and deserved every moment of happiness.
After the mistletoe ceremony, Mary slipped from the great hall. Hugh spent the rest of the afternoon in Ewan’s study, discussing estate matters. He was not the duke, but as the second son of the house, and heir presumptive, he still had his duties to perform.
“Now I have tallied up the heads to receive Handsel Monday coin purses, and it stands at fifty-seven. Master Crowdie has confirmed the number,” said Ewan.
Hugh sat and stared at his hands; his mind was completely elsewhere. His thoughts focused solely on Mary.
“I thought we should give every man one hundred pounds.”
One hundred pounds.
“What?!” replied Hugh.
Ewan sat and stared at his brother. “I thought that might get your attention. I know you find estate matters a tad boring, but if you could just concentrate for a few minutes, then you can go back into the hall and continue to make doe eyes at Miss Mary Gray.”
Hugh had been caught daydreaming, a fact he could not deny. “Is it that obvious?”
Ewan chuckled. “Yes. Do you remember when I had a small thing for Lord Stirling’s daughter some years ago? Well, the look I wore on my face all that summer is the very same one you have had plastered to your face since you got here. I’m surprised that the two of you are not already betrothed.”
“Her father was my professor, and so pursuing his daughter would not have been proper. And now that she is alone, it is going to be difficult to convince her that I am acting beyond mere pity for her changed circumstances. Add to that the fact that I do not know if she holds any romantic feelings for me, and you will have an understanding of how complicated this situation actually is,” replied Hugh.
Ewan sat back in his chair with a look of serious contemplation on his face. If anyone had an appreciation of dealing with a complicated love life, it was him. He had thrown Lady Caroline Hastings over in order to marry her sister, only to be jilted by his fiancée who had died while giving birth to his illegitimate son. It was a miracle he had managed to win Caroline back and secure her hand in marriage.
“The only advice I can give you, if you are asking for it, is to be honest with her. It took some time for me to come to that realization when Caroline and I were estranged. Make a promise to yourself that before New Year’s, you will talk to Mary and tell her how you feel. It was the only thing that brought Caroline back to me in the end.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, and don’t let Mama or any of the others try to play cupid. They got away with it, last Christmas, but that is because they had my infant son David to wave under Caroline’s nose. You don’t have the luxury of a sweet-faced bairn to win Mary over to you.”
“Try just a bite.”
Mary looked at the ladle and screwed up her face. Hugh tried not to laugh. It had taken more than a little coaxing to get her to consider attempting a mouthful of haggis. But now that it sat before her on the spoon, she hesitated.
“Couldn’t I have another piece of the blackbun instead?” she said.
“No. The rest of the blackbun is for Hogmanay. We only got to try some today because cook had made an extra batch. Come on, you have to try a spot of haggis; it is the law.” He waved the ladle under her nose, laughing when she finally opened her mouth and let him feed her. She didn’t chew for a moment, a look of distaste evident on her face. Offal was not to everyone’s liking.
Then, to his delight, her face changed.
As she chewed, her eyes grew wide. She swallowed. “That was not at all what I expected. It was nutty and peppery.”
“Cook adds a lot of spices to it. Once you get over the idea that it is the heart, liver, and lungs of the sheep, it’s quite a good meat,” he replied.
He offered her a second spoonful and grinned when she accepted it without hesitation. For someone who had lived a sheltered life at the university, he was pleased to see that Mary was open to embracing new experiences.
The family were gathered in the great hall for supper. The great space had been cleaned from top to bottom. A roaring fire burned in the giant stone fireplace.
The room was a sea of Strathmore family tartan. One-year-old David was decked out in a kilt which had once been his father’s, while baby Will was wrapped up warmly in a tartan shawl. Everyone wore the family plaid. Everyone except Mary.
Hugh had broached the subject of giving Mary a Strathmore tartan stole to wear, but Ewan had refused. Only family could wear it. Hugh understood his brother’s message loud and clear. If he wanted Mary to wear the tartan, he had to make her one of the family.
Lady Caroline finally made an appearance in the great hall just before supper. She looked brighter than she had been earlier in the day but was still pale. As she came to her husband’s side, Ewan drew her in close and spoke to her. She smiled and nodded.
“Could I please have your attention for a moment,” announced Ewan.
He bent down and lifted David into his arms. Lady Caroline stood close.
“This time last year, I was fortunate to make Caroline my wife. In doing so, David gained a mother, and the castle its new duchess. Today, I am happy to announce that Caroline and I are to have our first child together in the new year.”
