Page 11 of Christmas in the Scot's Arms
“The kissing ball is a tradition I uphold for Christmastide,” the French woman explained.
Liam looked up at the ball, and Cecelia could see a distinctly skeptical expression cross his face. “We celebrate Hogmanay—the last day of the new year—in the Highlands,” he offered as he turned his attention to them once more. A devilish smile curved his lips. “But if it’s the tradition here to celebrate Christmastide—”
“It’s not, truly!” Cecelia interjected, rubbing the burning tips of her ears.
“It is in my home,” Elizabeth added.
Liam nodded at both women. “I certainly want to respect yer customs.” He glanced at Cecelia. “Will ye do me the honor?”
A longing to kiss him shot through her, yet how could she? After all that had occurred, after how far she’d fallen—precipitated by the exuberant rule-snubbing behavior that had been trying to resurface since she had met this man—shehadto be proper. She simply had to live a gray life. No more vivid colors of joy and spontaneity for her if she was to make amends with thetonand secure a safe future for herself and, in turn, her mother.
She swallowed, the noise resounding in her ears, and she licked her suddenly stiff lips. “We scarcely know each other,” she whispered, the threads of her voice sounding regretful to her own ears.
“Aye, that’s true enough,” he agreed. “But I’m trying to remedy that.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, you must share a kiss!” Elizabeth encouraged.
Cecelia glanced at her friend and could not help but laugh at the indignation and determination shining in Elizabeth’s blue eyes.
“Will ye trust me?” Liam asked Cecelia, his gaze holding hers.
“That’s quite a question, Lord MacLeod. I’ve trusted before and much regretted the foolish decision.”
“Ah, but I’m a Scot, Miss Cartwright. My word is my honor. I will never break it.”
She swallowed. “I daresay, it’s hard to argue with such a declaration. You have mytemporarytrust. Now what are you going to do with it?”
“Give me yer hand,” he replied in a voice that was but a velvet murmur, yet left room for nothing but compliance. He was, she understood in that instant, a man who was accustomed to being obeyed. And why would he not be? He had a presence about him that commanded acquiescence.
Slowly, she offered her gloved hand to him.
“Oh, dear me,” Elizabeth exclaimed, making Cecelia jump and Liam turn to see what was the matter. “I do believe the snowfall grows even heavier!”
Cecelia watched as Elizabeth made her way across the entrance hall to the window farthest from them, though there was one much closer. “Yes,” she murmured, without turning around. “It is falling in buckets now. I do so love to watch the snow.” She kept her back squarely to Cecelia and Liam.
Cecelia loved her dear friend for attempting to give them a modicum of privacy while remaining in the room, as was proper.
Cecelia turned to Liam and was surprised to find him watching her. Something intense flared in his eyes as he reached for her hand and gently clasped it. Her heart pounded, and heat swirled within her chest. Slowly, he peeled off her glove, and when his warm skin came in contact with hers, her heart jolted and she had to stifle a gasp. Her eyes sought his, sure she did not have the effect on him that he had on her. But the smoldering flames she saw there startled her, then sent her spirits soaring.
He caressed her with his gaze as his fingers found their way to the tips of her own, grasped them in a sure hold, and raised them to his lips. As he brushed a kiss across her skin, everything about him consumed her. His heat enveloped her—most especially upon the top of her hand, which felt singed from his touch—her heart fluttered wildly when his warm breath washed over her sensitized skin, and her belly tingled. He brought her hand down between them, and much to her surprise, he began to put her glove back on her with such tender care that she shivered. Desire unlike any she had ever known ran through her.
When he was done, he released her, but neither of them moved. They stood face-to-face, and she could almost feel a connection forming between them.
Jonathan had kissed her on the lips before, but his kiss had elicited nothing in her. It was a gray, drab exchange. But a single kiss upon her hand from Liam had sent her senses swirling as if she’d just watched the most magnificent display of colorful fireworks in the sky. His eyes, she realized, were on her mouth, and she had the overwhelming urge to press her lips to his.
She forced herself to step back. “I need to be making my way home,” she said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
After she collected her new book and they said their farewells to Elizabeth, they stepped outside. A cold breeze whipped Cecelia’s hair up around her neck, and she wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the chill. She had been rushing to leave the house this morning, knowing she had wanted to go by the bookstore after the market, and she had not taken the time to don a pelisse.
As they descended the steps away from Elizabeth’s home, Liam paused, so Cecelia did as well. When she looked to question him, he had removed his coat. He arched an eyebrow at her.
“May I?” he asked, as he jangled the coat a bit.
She nodded and stood, unmoving, as he placed his coat over her shoulders. She was immediately enveloped in his lingering warmth and masculine scent. She felt utterly drugged. She was not the hoyden they said she was, she reminded herself, but shecouldsuddenly see how a woman might be led down a less than virtuous path by a man such as Liam. He had a lure about him unlike anything she had ever encountered before. In truth, it scared her a little. She could not afford to be foolish, yet it was hard to think sensibly with him near.
He took her hand to help her down the last step, and as he did, Lord Northington, one of Jonathan’s friends, appeared around the corner. He paused when he saw them, and then a distinct leer spread across his face. She stiffened and immediately released Liam’s hand. Lord Northington was not the first man to leer at her. Since Jonathan and Lord Tarrymount had conspired to ruin her, she had been subjected to the most lurid offers the few times she had been out in Society. Frankly, she had almost been relieved when invitations to events hosted by thetonhad stopped arriving.
