The Highlander's Christmas Countess (The Lairds Most Likely #8) - Anna Campbell Page 0,40
past unhappiness. “Especially if our firstborn is a girl.”
Quentin laughed, drawing a few more of those knowing glances. “Fair point.” He surveyed her. “You made a very pretty stableboy, my Lady Appin. But you make a spectacular countess.”
Self-consciously, she released his shoulder to fiddle with her coiffure. “I still feel like a bit of a freak with such short hair.”
As he swept her into another breathtaking turn, Quentin’s smile was redolent with a tenderness that made her feel like the most cherished woman in the world. “It will grow again if you want it long, but I’ve heard quite a few of the ladies say they rather fancy a countess crop themselves. You’re setting the style.”
With a self-derisive huff, she curled her hand around his shoulder again. She so loved dancing with Quentin. It was the closest to flying she could come without growing wings.
Although tonight she was euphoric enough to feel like she could take off into the sky without the need of wings.
“Perhaps I should have worn my stableboy’s jacket. That would have really got them talking about a new fashion.”
Wry humor lengthened Quentin’s mouth. “Tonight’s gown is a definite improvement on that monstrosity.”
She glanced down at the gorgeous emerald silk dress with its elaborate gold braiding. “It’s another one courtesy of Emily. It will be nice to wear my own clothes again.”
“Once we settle things at Appin, we can do a honeymoon trip, if you like. I plan to take you to Cannich House, too, so you can meet my family.” He smiled at her. “Don’t look so bilious. They’ll love you.”
“I’m not a conventional daughter-in-law,” she said, knowing that was an understatement.
“No, you’re better than that. My grandmother in particular will adore you. She’s a famous political hostess in London. We’ll have to visit her as well. Which means you can go wild in the West End shops.”
“You…you seem to have it all worked out,” she said faintly, feeling overwhelmed.
“I’m proud of my new bride. I want to show her off.”
“It all sounds rather daunting.” Especially the bit about meeting his family. “I’ve lived a very quiet life, you know.”
He gave a snort. “Apart from your adventures as a stableboy.”
“Those aren’t likely to recommend me to a mother-in-law.”
When his smile warmed, a glow settled in her stomach. “It will to this particular mother-in-law. We’re not precisely a conventional family either. Hamish and Emily are outside the normal run, as you must have noticed. Brody and Elspeth had a rocky courtship. And that was nothing to Diarmid and Fiona’s exploits, before they settled down to respectability and marital bliss. And if you look beyond my immediate family, Fergus and Marina are an unusual couple indeed, given she’s pursued her artistic career with such success. By Jove, if I brought a simpering little miss home, straight out of the schoolroom and ignorant of anything but etiquette, I’d let the side down.”
Tonight Kit had met the couples he’d mentioned. What had struck her about all of them was the contented air that clung about them. It was the same air she noticed with Hamish and Emily. It would be a dream come true, if she and Quentin could develop such trust and affection that strangers immediately saw the bond between them.
She reminded herself that it was early days yet, and she and her husband had made a good start. Perhaps in time, he could come to love her. He was already fond of her. His every action betrayed care and respect. And after last night, it was clear that they shared a mutual desire that she hoped might reinforce the link between them.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, regarding her with an arrested expression.
Heat tinged her cheeks. “Last night. And this morning.” She paused. “And this afternoon.”
He groaned and to her surprise stumbled. Quentin was a graceful dancer. How very interesting that mention of what they did in bed suddenly gave him two left feet. Interesting and gratifying. It seemed Kit had some power over him, too.
A satisfied smile curled her lips. Aye, she and Quentin made an excellent beginning to their marriage.
“Don’t torment me,” he said, his tone gruff. “If I don’t keep you downstairs until at least midnight, Emily will never forgive me.”
Kit surveyed the glamorous crowd adorning this beautiful room with its lush seasonal decorations. Her ears rang with sweet music from Edinburgh’s best dance orchestra. “I’ve never been to a ball before.”
“It would be a pity to drag you away early then, even if