Page 36 of A Secret Scottish Christmas

Chapter 9

“Mind the holly thorns!” Ailie shouted to the others riding behind her as they ventured deeper into the woods. She had given them cloth sacks in which to put the greenery they found and, just as they left, Will had given Hugh and Nash each a new tool.

Captain Anderson had brought the pruning shears he called “sécateurs” back from France for Emily, telling her they would make short work of cutting woody stems.

Now all they needed was the greenery they hunted: holly, red hawthorn berries and branches of Scots pine. Planning for the house to be well decorated for the English Christmastide, Emily had been growing rosemary, ivy and the hellebore she called Christmas rose in the orangery.

Ailie had left Goodness and Mercy back at the house knowing the snow would be deep in the woods.

She led the others along the road, now covered with snow up to the horses’ fetlocks. No ice had formed and the horses, unshod for the winter, soon found their footing. The horses showed great enthusiasm for the venture, snorting and shaking their heads when snow from high branches fell upon them.

Being outdoors in the cold air enlivened Ailie’s spirit. That she rode with Nash only raised her enthusiasm for their outing.

“I see some holly bushes over there,” cried Mary excitedly. Ailie turned in the saddle to see Hugh’s wife riding off to the left. Hugh reined his horse to follow.

Ailie urged her mare on. She remembered a hawthorn tree in this part of the woods and was determined to find it. The birds often ate the berries, but if she could find some they had left, the red berries would make an attractive decoration along with the Scots pine branches she hoped to gather.

Nash pulled up next to her. “What are you searching for?”

“A hawthorn tree.”

“Not just any greenery, then.”

“No, a tree I remembered being in this part of the woods.” She took the path to the right. The horses plodded more slowly, the snow now to their knees. “The deeper snow will make the going slower,” she told Nash, “but I’m hoping we’ll be rewarded with some berries.”

“Very well, lead on.”

Farther ahead, Ailie heard the sound of running water. The sound grew louder as they neared the small burn where water rushed over rocks. She spotted the hawthorn tree just beyond the water. “We’re in luck! The branches are laden with berries.”

“Those small red dots beneath the snow on the branches?” Nash asked.

“Aye.”

Nash dismounted and waded through the snow to where she sat her horse, watching him. He took hold of her waist and lowered her to the ground.

Her hands on his shoulders, Ailie slid down the front of his greatcoat until her feet touched ground beneath the snow. He didn’t let go but fixed her with his green and gold eyes.

She could not tear her eyes from his handsome face and the longing she saw in his eyes. Her heart sped as he said her name and bent his head, drawing closer.

He closed his eyes and, when his lips touched hers, she closed her eyes, shutting out all but him and his kiss.

His lips were surprisingly soft and his touch tender, causing her to welcome the kiss. Around them stood the cold snow-covered woods but, in his arms, she was warm, his lips moving over hers igniting a flame within her.

He raised his head. “I’ve been wanting to do that since that first evening in your parlor.”

It was the only time in her life Ailie had been rendered dizzy by a man’s kiss. With her hands still on his shoulders, she looked into his beautiful eyes, hoping he would kiss her again.

He smiled and so did she, like two children sharing a secret.

Acceding to her unspoken wish, he kissed her again. This time, when their lips touched, she wrapped her hands around his neck and held him close.

The kiss, less gentle than the first, stirred a response deep within her. He put his hands on her hips and drew her against his body. Their coats between them did not prevent her from feeling the heat of him. She delighted in his masculine smell tinged with the scent of sandalwood.

Tentatively at first, she returned his kiss. Despite the intimate nature of his tongue entwining with hers, it was not at all unpleasant. She had heard her brothers speak of such kisses but this was her first experience. With Nash, what had been described as something she never thought to enjoy became an exchange of passionate ardor such as she had never known.

He pulled away first, leaving her breathless. “Forgive me, Ailie. I shouldn’t—”

She put her gloved finger to his mouth. “Don’t say it. I’m glad you did. I liked your kissing me or couldn’t you tell?”