Read A Laird for Christmas for Free Online Page B

object to reveal a small wooden figure.
    “My doll,” she whispered. “However did you find her?” She had lost Meriwether so long ago. Jane had shed many tears over the loss of her favorite toy.
    A look of remorse settled over his features. “You did not lose her. We were playing a game of hide-and-go-seek, remember? Below stairs near the buttery, I found a priests’ hole from bygone days and hid Meriwether there. I never went back to get her. I just forgot until…” He paused and his face became a blank slate. “I had time in gaol to remember all sorts of things.”
    Despite the mention of his suffering, Jane could not help the wistful feeling that came over her. She and Jules had become the best of friends after that day. But even as the softer emotions came over her, so too did a stab of old hurt. Jane forced it aside. Jules was the injured party here. She could not imagine all he had had to endure in gaol. He started to turn to leave, judging her silence as his signal to go.
    She reached for his hand and held it. “Do not go just yet.”
    He stared down at her, long and hard, then quietly said, “Thank you for not letting them hang me that day.”
    She swallowed thickly. “I wish I could have—”
    He reached toward her and pressed his finger to her lips. “You did more than anyone else, especially my father.”
    Jane nodded as he shifted his finger to smooth her hair away from her cheek. “You restored my life. I restored your doll. Are we even?” He gave her a soft smile that for a second transformed his weary face.
    “Yes.”
    “A debt repaid,” he said with a soft release of breath.
    Jane startled at the sudden realization. He had not been the one to give her a gift this day. She had given him one. With her forgiveness she had put that familiar smile back onto his face. A welcome heat warmed her soul. She grinned at her old friend.
    Jules MacIntyre was back.
    “You two can reminisce later,” Aunt Margaret interrupted, placing her hand over where the two of theirs were joined. Jules pulled his hand back, bowed, then returned to where the others stood waiting.
    Jane’s fingers felt cold at the loss of her friend’s touch. She clamped her hands together, waiting for her next suitor to greet her.
    “Bryce MacCallister, please approach Lady Jane.” Her aunt’s voice startled Jane back to the moment.
    Her cousin Bryce came forward with his hand behind his back. Jane tensed, expecting the worst, but at that moment, the last rays of the morning sun came through the open doorway to the great hall and highlighted the shining darkness of his neatly barbered hair.
    Had Bryce changed? Was that errant ray of light a signal from the universe that her cousin had left his anger at Jacob and herself behind him?
    She offered Bryce a smile as he bowed. She searched his face, looking for more signs of transformation. His long sideburns accented the high cheekbones of his slightly elongated face, and the hollow line of his jaw and deeply bronzed skin. Compared to Jules’s paleness, Bryce looked healthy and vital. His attire continued the impression—a waist-length dark blue tunic, a shirt of fine white muslin, and black breeches with polished black boots. He moved with a restless grace as if suppressing a powerful and volatile energy so similar to that of her father and brother. Perhaps her smile shrank a measure.
    A shadow of stubble darkened his cheek and a cynical smile curved his lips. He brought his hand out from behind him to reveal a bouquet of tiny white snowdrops. Their heads drooped toward the ground and several petals fell onto Jane’s lap to settle around the puppy as he pushed them toward her.
    “Greetings, cousin. Please accept my gift.”
    Jane took the wilting flowers. Immediately, the puppy in her lap stirred and began chewing them, tossing the small white heads into the air until only one bent flower remained. Jane held the bruised stem out of the dog’s reach.
    “Thank you, Bryce. Very