Page 23 of By Any Other Name

“I never swindled him. Anyway, I hae no’ seen him since he got up on his high ropes about his sister paying me for— Say!” He stopped and looked Rylla up and down. “You’re her, ain’t you?” He laughed. “Well, well, now . . . I’d be happy to play a few hands with you. Ow!” His face contorted and he rolled his eyes toward Gregory. “Hae a care; you’ll break my arm.”

“I’ll break both of them if you continue in that vein.”

“I dinna mean anything.”

“Never mind that,” Rylla said impatiently. “When and where did you last see Daniel?”

“I dinna watch the lad’s comings and goings. Six days ago, maybe seven. He came tae ask for more time tae pay. I told him you’d taken care of it. He flew up into the boughs about me talking to his sister. Went storming off. I hae no’ seen him since.”

“Where did he go? He wouldn’t have just disappeared.”

“My guess? He’s gang tae the moneylenders.”

Tears sprang into Rylla’s eyes, and she turned away. Behind her, Gregory pulled the other man away, bending down to talk to him in low, fierce tones. Rylla paid them no attention. All she could think of was the disappointment crushing her chest. She had been so hopeful when she’d spotted Kerns a few minutes earlier, so certain that he would be able to lead them to Daniel.

But they were no farther along than they had been. Christmas was the day after tomorrow. How could they find her brother before then? It was becoming clearer and clearer that Daniel did not plan to join the family. How could she and her family celebrate Christmas, not knowing if Daniel was well . . . or even alive?

♦ ♦ ♦

“I’m sure your brother is fine,” Gregory told Rylla, taking her arm and pulling her closer to the fire. She had been quiet all the way back to his home. He knew her thoughts had been on her brother. It amazed him how much he wished he could give her what she wanted.

“How can you know?” Rylla held her hands out to the warmth of the fire, not looking at him. She was so lovely, it brought a pain to his chest. Gregory’s eyes drifted over her pale, delicate skin, cheeks and lips reddened by the cold. She had taken off the hat she’d worn and combed her hands through her curls, giving her blond hair a charmingly tousled look.

“I can’t, of course, not for certain. But I do know young men. I know what it’s like to feel foolish and sorry and ashamed of something you’ve done. That is what is keeping him away. If something had happened to him, if he had been hurt, you would have heard.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” She gave him a small smile and turned away, slipping out of her coat and jacket. “What did you say to Kerns there at the end? I saw you looking fierce and talking to him quietly so I wouldn’t hear.”

Gregory shrugged, propping his elbow on the mantel and watching her. Her breeches curved over her rounded derriere and hugged the contours of her legs. A sweet ache settled low in his abdomen. “I just reminded him it was in his best interests to keep his mouth shut and stay away from your brother. I don’t think he’ll bother you again.”

“Thank you.” Rylla looked up at him with lambent eyes.

He could get lost in those eyes, Gregory thought. His fingers itched to reach out to her. He swung away sharply and picked up his greatcoat, searching the pockets. “I got this from him.” He extended his hand, palm open.

“My brooch!” Rylla drew in a sharp breath, picking up the piece of jewelry almost reverently. “But how—I would have thought he’d sold it already!”

“Apparently he hasn’t been able to get as much as he wanted for it.”

“But Gregory—I did owe him the money. I mean, Daniel did.”

He smiled. “Now you’re worried about Kerns getting swindled? Don’t be. I paid him for it.”

“Gregory! No, you shouldn’t. I can’t accept this from you.” She stroked her fingers over the brooch in her palm. “It’s too much.”

“Nonsense. It’s yours.” Gregory pulled his eyes from the sight of her fingers caressing the piece of jewelry. He cleared his throat. “Consider it a Christmas present.”

Rylla smiled. “I am not noble enough to refuse it.” She went up on tiptoe, placing her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and brushed her lips against his. “Thank you.”

Heat surged in Gregory. “I don’t ask for your gratitude.” His voice was thick, his mind heavy and slow, as if mired in a bog. Only his senses were alive, excruciatingly so.

“I know. But you have it, nevertheless. You are most kind.”

“I’m not. Sweet heaven, I am not.” Unconsciously he leaned toward her. He must not touch her. He was sure he would be lost if he did. But she was so achingly close, so warm and soft. So desirable.

“You have not kissed me these three days. Not even once.” Rylla continued to gaze at him, her eyes wide and limpid. He could not look away.

“No.” He sounded rusty as an old gate.

“Why?” The word was deceptively simple. He had no idea how to answer it. After a moment of silence, she added, “Do you not want to kiss me anymore?”