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“And as I mentioned, I hope I get an invitation, too.”
One corner of her lush mouth tilted up. “I’m sure we can arrange that.”
“There are going to be presents, Papa.” Joseph gave him an intent look. “Properpresents, the kind you’re supposed to have at Christmas.”
Ah.So that’s what the wee lad had been fashed about. “There will be proper presents here too, Joseph. Your aunt Vicky will see to that.”
His son pulled a face. “Grandda said that proper Scots only celebrate Hogmanay.”
Logan flexed his shoulders against the mantel, getting more comfortable. “We’ll celebrate Hogmanay, but Aunt Vicky is English, so she’s rather big on Christmas. They’ll be plenty of parties, especially if Donella is planning one, too.”
When he smiled at her, he was surprised to see her cheeks turn pink again. Then he realized her gaze had been stuck on his chest and shoulders, as if she were inspecting them.
Interesting.
Apparently, there just might have been something to that good-bye kiss she’d given him. He’d suspected as much.
“With proper presents,” Joseph said with the dogged emphasis of a child.
Logan reached down to tap his son’s nose. “With proper presents, I promise.”
The grin that split Joseph’s face triggered a corresponding burst of happiness in Logan’s heart. He’d have to find time to Christmas shop for his son. Better yet, he’d take Joseph and let the lad pick out his own gifts. If bribery helped to smooth over the awkwardness between them, Logan was more than ready to empty his pockets.
“Whew, that’s good.” Then the lad’s smile faded. “Meme was always very good at Christmas, especially since Grandpapa loved it so much. He . . .” Joseph lost his voice, swallowing hard.
“I know how much you miss him,” Logan said quietly. “I do, too.”
The boy gave an awkward shrug, his gaze dropping to his lap.
Donella threw Logan a sympathetic glance before tapping Joseph’s knee. “Since Christmas will be here soon, we’d best get to planning our party, don’t you think?”
He looked up. “Our party? Does that mean you want me to help?”
“Yes, if your father will allow it. You’ll have to come to Breadie Manor, though.”
Joseph turned a pleading gaze on Logan.
“Of course, son. Donella will be glad for your help, I’m thinking.”
The study door banged open, and Angus charged in with his usual lack of grace. “I’ve come to meet the Flower of Clan Graham. I just found out she’s stayin’ for a spell.”
At least there was one other person who hadn’t known about Donella’s visit. Why it was all such a mystery had yet to be clarified.
Looking pained because she really hated that name, Donella rose to her feet.
“Miss Donella Haddon, allow me to present my grandfather, Mr. Angus MacDonald,” Logan said.
Angus gave her a flourishing bow, his grizzled hair practically dusting the table in front of the settee. “It’s an honor to meet ye, Miss Donella.”
She bobbed him a curtsy. “Thank you, sir.”
Joseph tugged on his great-grandfather’s sleeve. “Why did you call her that, Grandda?”
“Because she’s the prettiest and kindest of lasses and the pride of her branch of the clan, her chief dubbed her the Flower of Clan Graham.”
Joseph seemed awestruck. “Is that true?” he asked her.
“It’s true that the chief gave me that nickname. But the rest is not,” she said with an embarrassed smile.
