A Highlander for Christmas

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Book: A Highlander for Christmas Read Online Free PDF
Author: Paula Quinn
Tags: Romance, Historical
cradled in his arms, the same place wee Edmund MacGregor could be found before bed every night.
    Finn winked at the babe’s dreamy smile and watched while Tristan pressed a kiss to his nephew’s downy curls.
    “We know what ye’re going through right now, Finn,” Rob told him, pulling Finn’s attention back to him. “If there’s somethin’ to be done, we’ll do it. We’re behind ye in whatever ye decide.”
    In what manner? Finn wondered. By going to Glenelg with him and starting a war between Highlanders and Lowlanders? Or would they aid him in something more disreputable, like quietly assassinating the marquess in his bed? He would do his best to avoid either scenario for Leslie’s sake and the sake of her kin. He appreciated these men who stood by him but he didn’t want to lead them into battle. Even if they won (which he was certain they would) fighting always came with a cost he didn’t want his kin to pay.
    “Mayhap,” he offered, feeling a bit less dejected, “we could petition Brodie to woo Helen Harrison with a bit more of the aggression he shows to the cork in his pouch of whisky. If Leslie’s mother wanted to stay—”
    Will shook his head, then slashed his fingers through his dark hair to clear it. “My faither’s too ornery to woo the last droplet of brew from his bag, never mind a woman.”
    “Our fathers are closer to him. They can persuade him to aid us,” Colin told him, then looked down again at his son in his arms. “’Tis a good start.”

Chapter Six
    LESLIE LEANED HER shoulder against the windowpane of the Red Kyeloe Inn and stared out at the snow-covered mountain ranges beyond the Narrows. Nestled somewhere within those behemoth structures was Camlochlin, primped and primed for the holidays, which would begin in a few days. She wondered if leaving Camlochlin in the night, without bidding anyone farewell, was the right thing to do. She’d had no choice. She couldn’t bear the thought of a long, drawn out good-bye with Finn…or any one of the MacGregors and Grants she had come to love. Finn would be hurt. Perhaps he would never forgive her. She wiped her eyes, swollen from crying herself to sleep. She’d had no choice.
    She imagined the children running through the cavernous halls, tying sprigs of evergreen and stockings to the hearths in the various halls. Much of the Highland Yuletide traditions were steeped in Viking lore and Leslie had been eager to hear the stories of Saint Nicholas. Isobel MacGregor had promised to teach her how to make black bun, a traditional Twelfth Night cake made with fruit, almonds, and spices. Mairi, Finn’s sister by marriage, had wanted her to help in the ceremonial burning of Cailleach, or Old Winter, when a piece of wood was carved into a face of an old woman and then burned.
    Traditions belonging to Finn’s family that she would never experience.
    She’d been gone from Camlochlin for three days and she missed it already. Most of all, though, she missed Finn. Oh, heaven help her, she missed him. It may have been only three days but each one presented a brand-new challenge, like trying to forget the way his melodious voice blended with the wind blowing in from the Cuillins, or how his eyes glittered like dewy grass on a summer morn when he set them on her.
    She thought it would be easier to leave quickly, but being away from him was worse than anything she’d experienced in the past. The passing of every moment became slower and duller than the one before it.
    She had both hoped—and feared—that he wouldn’t follow her, and both were realized. He hadn’t come. Part of her heart ached over it. Another part was thankful and prayed that for his own good, he would stay away.
    “Leslie?”
    “Hmmm?” She sighed, without turning to her brother.
    “The Douglases should arrive today. Once they arrive, we can proceed home.”
    “It’s beginning to snow.”
    Andrew’s silence proved that he still possessed enough of a heart to sense her
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