Page 29 of A Hot Scot for Christmas
A scandalized peal of laughter at his idea for her costume put a sparkle in her eye. Sabrina had closeted herself with Polly and a seamstress from Rockville for the better part of the day. When she emerged, the fair lass was a goddess. Lush red hair spilled down her back when she met him on Eden House’s portico.
Polly had followed her, gushing. “You looksopretty, ma’am.”
Except Rory couldn’t see a blasted thing. Sabrina was a walking tent. She’d cloaked herself from chin to hem.
He’d reached her cloak. “A peek.”
Sabrina stayed his hand. “Not yet,” she’d said. “The reveal will come at the Rutgers’ ball.”
Now, here they were, minutes from storming the Rutger’s ball. Sabrina was pink-cheeked, her lips a scarlet ribbon against the night. He suspected Polly smuggled a bottle of brandy above stairs for her mistress. Sabrina was uncharacteristically giddy. The pressure, possibly. Tonight, they would be on display. Their faux engagement tested.
He stretched a leg, his own costume covered. Sabrina hadn’t seen his either. It hardly balanced the scales of fairness, though.
A giggling Sabrina quit her vigil at the window. “I can’t believe I’m wearing this costume.”
He sat back, arms folded. “You’re still making me wait?”
A thick curl flopped against her powdered cheek. “Yes.”
“I’ll try not to be surprised.”
Her giddy smile faltered.
“Do you think we’re ready? I’m worried. I really am.”
Pebble-sized drops of gold glittered at her earlobes. She would be a topic of conversation. Her beauty alone was breath-taking. The typically confident Englishwoman was a picture of uncertainty. He set a reassuring hand on her knee and squeezed.
“You need this night, lass, but not for the benefit of others. Though I hate to admit it, there is one thing Crawford and I can agree on—you do work too much.”
She fussed with a fold on her cloak. “Him. I hope he changed his mind about attending the ball.”
“He’ll be there.”
The captain was their Achilles Heel. His shared history with Rory and his intentions for Sabrina made the officer a bothersome threat.
When Sabrina wasn’t closeted with Polly and the seamstress, she spent time with Rory in her cellar. They worked together on her latest batch of ale spiced with juniper berries. He asked about her brothers (William, George, Charles, and Bernard) and her favorite color (light blue, the same color on most of the walls in her house). Did she ever have pets? No. An animal like that was a luxury as a child, and the hack horses belonging to her father and brothers were housed in a hostelry nearby. He, however, enjoyed a long history with cats, dogs, and the odd bird he’d captured before setting it free.
While thinking of this, the carriage stopped. Firelight shot through the square window. Voices and laughter came loudly.
Sabrina sat abruptly. “We’re here.”
“We’re ready.”
The carriage door clicked open. Rory held her hand and her future. Everything had to ring true tonight. If it didn’t, her reputation and River Eden Brewery would be destroyed.
But the longing in her eyes… Her trust. Each glance, each sprinkling laugh she gave him were gifts he stored in his battered heart. The red-haired lass had put her faith in him, a knight in dented armor.
He would not fail her.
Rory lifted her hand to his lips. One small kiss and confidence bloomed on her cheeks.
Her quiet “Thank you” and tender smile was a crescent-shaped punch to his chest.
If he survived these twelve days and nights with her, he could survive anything.
He ducked low and followed her toward the stairs.
When they reached the first step, Sabrina pushed up on her toes. “The receiving line is at a standstill.”
