Once Upon A Highland Christmas Read Online Free Page A

walking stick. And Grim had a good idea what the old laird had intended to fill it with: the last of Breena’s decorations.
    Apparently she agreed, because she lifted a corner of the sack, questioningly.
    “Sir,” she began, gentle reproach in her voice, “you weren’t going to try to collect the mistletoe yourself?”
    “Me? Did you no’ hear what I said?” Archie spluttered, giving a good show of looking offended. “I didnae ken there was any hanging about! Though I’ll no’ say I’m no’ glad the winds be ridding my hall of such frippery.”
    He slipped the sack from his crummock and shook it out, demonstratively. “This was to hold a bit of late-night victuals, is all. ’Twas the hunger that woke me, it was. I’ve a fierce appetite, see you?”
    As if to prove his words, he gave a stiff little bow and then shuffled past them to a nearby trestle table, still laden with a few rounds of cheese and several platters of leftover roasted meats. Clearly dismissing Grim and Breena, he started thrusting food into his sack. First an entire head of ripe green cheese and then a large wedge of barley bread along with a small pot of butter and another of honey. He finished with more beef ribs than even Grim could eat.
    When he turned away from the table, his eyes glittered with defiance.
    “I’m hungry,” he declared, patting his middle.
    Grim and Breena exchanged glances.
    “The mistletoe should remain.” Grim spoke first, not wanting to offend, but aware others at Duncreag needed Yule as much as Archie, even if the old man was loath to admit it. “Some of the men traipsed far into the snowbound glen to fetch the greenery and mistletoe,” he added, ignoring Breena’s foot lowering over his toes. “The garrison men and the serving lasses deserve a bit of merriment.
    “Yule is important to them, bringing reassurance that the long dark nights will draw to an end, the warmth and light of spring nearing by the day. A few kisses will boost their spirits as they wait for the sun’s rebirth.”
    “Say you!” Archie jutted his bristly chin. “I say a man’s hall is good for more than kissing beneath pagan gew-gaws on cold winter nights.” He slung the food sack over his shoulder, weaving slightly beneath its weight. “Nothing like a fine late-night repast to cure what ails a man,” he vowed, lifting his walking stick in salute before tap-tap-tapping his way out of the hall.
    Grim stared after him, not sure whether he should chuckle or frown.
    Archie’s back might’ve bent a bit beneath the heavy sack, but in his agitation, he’d forgotten to assume his slow, shuffling gait.
    He’d tap-tapped, but his stride was sure and true.
    “The only thing ailing him is a broken heart.” Grim shook his head as Archie disappeared into the deeper darkness beyond the hall’s entry arch. “Few men half his age could make such a hasty retreat.”
    “He’ll never allow Yule.” Breena sounded crestfallen.
    Something else entirely troubled Grim.
    She turned to face him now, the hall’s dim light not hiding the soft flush on her cheeks or the lustrous sheen of her glorious hair. Unbound and tumbling to her hips, her hair was a cascade of burnished, coppery-bright temptation. He couldn’t think of a man who wouldn’t ache to see such tresses spilled in riotous, wayward abandon across his bed sheets. As for the rest of her, the lush curve of her hips or the full roundness of her breasts…
    It was perhaps best she was distressed.
    Otherwise, he might seize her again, pulling her close, and kissing her even more soundly than before.
    Indeed, he might anyway.
    “You did your duty well, my lord.” Her words stayed his intent, especially her slightly displeasured tone. “I do not believe Archie guessed why we were in the hall so late.”
    “That was our aim, my lady.” Grim wasn’t about to tell her he’d have kissed her anyway. Mistletoe or nae. He’d wanted to kiss her the moment she stepped from behind the