A Lass for Christmas (Tenacious Trents Novella) by Jane Charles Read Free Book Online

throat.”
    He took the cup away and returned with a
napkin, which he stuffed into the top of her nightshirt and then
handed her the bowl and spoon. Madeline took one bite and moaned.
This was the best porridge she had ever eaten. Of course, it could
be because she was starving. She hadn’t eaten since the midday meal
yesterday.
    She took three more bites. The taste had
nothing to do with hunger. “This is the most delicious porridge I
have ever eaten.”
    Brachton smiled. “Mrs. MacGinnis is the best
cook in all of Scotland.”
    “England,” Madeline corrected.
    He frowned.
    “You are in England at the moment,” she
reminded him.
    He nodded. “The best cook in Scotland and
England.”
    Madeline continued eating until she was
scraping the bowl with her spoon. A lady should eat more delicately
and never try to get every last drop but she didn’t care. Besides,
she wasn’t a lady.
    Brachton chuckled as he took the bowl from
her and set it back on the table. “It is nice to see an English
woman eat as if she had an appetite.”
    A blush heated her cheeks. Or perhaps it was
the fever, but she knew what he meant. Ladies were to take small
portions and eat little so as to maintain their figure. Madeline
hated that rule and never followed it in the privacy of her own
home with only family present.
    “The snow has stopped,” Brachton announced
from the window.
    This meant that soon Lachlan would be
returning her to Jordan and then be on his way north to find a
bride. Irritation welled up within her.
    “What is wrong with marrying a proper English
woman? You are an English lord, after all.” She had to ask because
it rankled her. Yet he was Scottish as well, and she would have
known that without seeing him wearing his plaid but by the rich
brogue in his speech. His voice warmed her like brandy on a cold
night. Not that she had ever drunk much brandy, but on a few
occasions she had snuck some from her brother’s stores. Clayton
never had noticed and if he had, probably blamed it on Jordan since
she only did so when her brother visited. It was Jordan who had
poured her that first glass after mother and father had gone to bed
one night when she was home on holiday.
    Of the three brothers she was closest to
Jordan. He was the one who visited her most during those years she
was off to school. He felt partly to blame for her being sent to
school, but glad she didn’t have to endure Father any more than
necessary. Clayton was too busy learning to be the next earl,
Matthew was at school and then the seminary, John had disappeared,
and Madeline was only allowed to see Mother when she was home.
    Lachlan took a long time in answering. After
he placed the bowl on the table, he stirred the fire and then
refilled her cup. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her or didn’t wish to
answer the question. He brought the tea back to her.
    “How do you know my feelings on marrying?” He
handed her the cup.
    “I was awake and heard you speaking with your
friend, Dougal.”
    He arched an eyebrow.
    “I apologize. I should have let you know I
was awake, but I was trying to determine where I was. I was a bit
befuddled when I woke.”
    “In my bed,” he reminded her. “Do you intend
to try and illicit a proposal out of me now?”
    Heat stole into her cheeks. “Heavens, no! I
doubt I will ever marry and certainly not a titled man.”
    His shoulders seemed to relax. “Even though
I’ve an English title, I am a Scot and my bride will be too.”
    So he wasn’t really against English ladies as
a rule, but someone who shared a familiar heritage. She couldn’t
fault him in that.
    Madeline sipped the warm tea. It was soothing
to her throat and she could enjoy it more now that she had eaten.
The fire brought a good deal of warmth to the room and her eyes
grew heavy. Why was she so tired? Hadn’t she slept all night? It
could be the fever. Perhaps it would be gone when she woke
again.
    Madeline sensed Brachton’s presence by her
bed and she opened