Or perhaps her cheekiness had nothing to do with boredom, but simply resulted from being sick to death of Mr. McTaggart snubbing her. The next time he spotted her in the castle and stalked off in the other direction, she was of a mind to chase after him until he had no choice except to acknowledge her.
The Scottish brute disliked her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Instead of engaging in pleasantries as one might expect when meeting someone for the first time, Mr. McTaggart had grunted at her.Grunted, for heaven’s sake!Even now, he barely spoke a word to her unless they were bellowing at one another. Therefore, she hadn’t expected him to kiss her under the mistletoe.
Her trembling fingers brushed over her lips. They still tingled. Mr. McTaggart’s kiss, however brief and rough, rattled her belief that passion was something one feigned out of necessity. The girls at Madam Montgomery’s brothel had cared nothing for their gentlemen callers, but one would never know it. Their performances rivaled any actress on stage. Edith’s pounding heart was all too real, however, and she didn’t know how to make sense of it. Her gaze flickered up at him.
Mr. McTaggart’s unwavering frown was like a dagger plunged into her chest. She knew all too well the meaning behind his glowers. He disapproved of her presence, her sordid past, and her influence over her darling young charge, Gracie. His opinion wouldn’t bar her from honoring a promise to her best friend, though. Lavinia sent Edith to Lord and Lady Thorne’s to watch over Gracie, and she would never let down the woman who had saved her life.
Gracie tugged on Edith’s sleeve and pulled her from her stupor. “Where is my Christmas list? I need to cross off mistletoe.”
Edith retrieved a folded piece of foolscap from the pocket sewn into her skirts and held it out to the young lady. Edith should have looked at the list before tucking it away. No telling what mischief Gracie had planned over the next two weeks, and Mr. McTaggart couldn’t be trusted to discourage her.
“Thank you, Edith.” Gracie took the paper and placed a quick peck on her cheek before practically skipping back toward the library.
Lord Thorne held out his arm to his wife, his dark eyes alight. “We should see what activities she has planned. If she is short on ideas, I might have a few.”
Lady Thorne laughed, beaming at husband. “With the two of you in charge of festivities, I am certain this will be a most memorable Christmas.” She linked arms with him, and they trailed in Gracie’s wake. “I cannot wait for my sisters to arrive so our celebration can truly begin.”
The lady’s happy chatter grew muffled as they entered the library and the heavy oak door swung closed. A dull ache swelled beneath Edith’s breastbone. Although the Thornes had accepted her into their home and treated her as kin, she had no family to call her own. The longing never seemed to go away, no matter how many times she reminded herself marriage and children were not meant for her future. Only the reminder that Lavinia would be at Aldmist Fell soon lifted her spirits. Edith missed her dear friend.
Mr. McTaggart cleared his throat; she tensed. She didn’t have the wherewithal to quarrel now, not when she was feeling vulnerable.
“I need ta return the ladder.”
Was he asking permission to take his leave? It seemed unlikely the stubborn Scot would employ any manners with her.
“The lassie—” He cleared his throat again, although it sounded very similar to one of his ubiquitous grunts. “Miss Gracie noticed the pond is frozen and has her mind set on ice skating. The ice is thick enough this year, so there’s no danger to the lass.”
Edith could feel her eyes widening. Hewasbeing solicitous of her. Moments before, he’d accused her of being a worrywart and coddling the young girl. Surely one kiss—given begrudgingly—could not account for his change in demeanor.
“Mistress Gallagher, we cannae continue quarreling like we have been. Helena—” A red blush climbed his face as he caught himself using Lady Thorne’s given name. The Scot was very close with the baroness and had known her since she came to Aldmist Fell at age sixteen to marry Mr. McTaggart’s former employer. “This Christmas means a lot to Lady Thorne. I dinna want to ruin it by acting like a curmudgeon. Can we call a truce, just for the holidays?”
She couldn’t stop the downturn of her mouth when he added the part about their truce having an expiration date, but she agreed with him on the first account. She couldn’t behave like a shrew if any of them hoped for a pleasant holiday, and she would never purposefully ruin Gracie’s Christmas.
“Very well, Mr. McTaggart, I agree to a truce. I suppose if you deem the pond safe, I should trust you know what you are talking about. It is safe, isn’t it?”
“Aye, lass. Yer confidence in me seems a wee shaky, but I’ll no’ make a fuss about it.” His crooked smile appeared, and Edith’s knees wobbled again. There was something heartwarming and thrilling about his smile, like only someone special could earn such a lovely expression of his pleasure. “The skates are kept in the attic, but it could take a week ta find them searching alone. If ye would be so kind as ta offer yer assistance, I wouldna be opposed.”
Edith’s breath caught. She didn’t know if she could speak, so she nodded and was rewarded with an even wider grin from Mr. McTaggart.
Lud! She must be out of her mind to follow him to the attic.
Two
Fergus grabbedMistress Gallagher around the waist when the toe of her slipper caught on one of the stone stairs and she pitched forward. “Watch yer step.”
“I—I am all right, Mr. McTaggart.”
When she began to ease from his embrace, he tucked her closer against his side. “You are all right this time, lass, but I willna have you getting hurt before Christmas.”
She blinked up at him, her blue eyes magnified behind her spectacles. “AndafterChristmas?”
“Weel, I suppose I cannae allow anything to happen to you after Christmas either,” he said with a chuckle. “No’ when you’ll be looking over yer shoulder. The element of surprise is gone now.”
She briefly pursed her lips in a show of disapproval and pushed free of his hold to scramble up the stairs. He sighed and followed. Her reaction didn’t surprise him. Now that Mistress Gallagher was Helena’s paid companion, she outclassed him. There wasn’t a chance in hell she would welcome the attentions of a lowly servant, not when fortune had elevated her from former brothel maid to company fit for a baroness. Only the Thornes, Helena’s sisters, and Fergus knew of Mistress Gallagher’s past, and no one was of a mind to reveal her secret when doing so could harm Helena and Miss Gracie.
Mistress Gallagher stopped midway into the climb and tossed a look over her shoulder. “How much further, sir?” She sounded breathless. She wasn’t accustomed to the same activity level he was.
“We’re halfway there, lass. Let’s stop to catch our breath.” He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers to wait.
