Chapter 10 #2
Without thinking, she reached across and filled his cup as well, a wifely gesture so natural it surprised them both.
His grey eyes lifted to meet hers, lingering on her hands in a way that made her pulse quicken. For a heartbeat, she saw heat flare in those storm-cloud depths before he looked away sharply, jaw clenching.
“Thank ye,” he muttered, his voice deep and rough.
Fraser cleared his throat pointedly from across the table, his dark eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement. “So, cousin, what are yer plans for today?”
“Patrols need checkin’. The southern boundary fence needs repair.” Declan’s response was clipped, professional. “And I’ll be meetin’ with the elders about next season’s plantin’. But for now, just take a rest.”
“Sounds rivetin’,” Fraser drawled. “I’m sure yer new bride is thrilled to hear about fence posts and turnip crops.”
Declan shot him a warning look that would have made lesser men reconsider their life choices. Fraser merely grinned wider.
Francesca hid her smile behind her teacup, grateful for Fraser’s attempts to lighten the oppressive tension.
Several of the castle staff had found reasons to hover near the breakfast table, smoothing already pristine linens, adjusting perfectly arranged flowers, all while sneaking glances at their Laird and his new wife.
They’re watching for signs of unity. Proof that this marriage is real.
She caught Declan’s gaze again and saw the same awareness in his eyes. They were performing for an audience, and they both knew it. In this, it was no different than life in London.
Francesca focused intently on her porridge, hyper-aware of Declan’s presence at the table. Every shift of his body seemed magnified, every breath he took somehow audible despite the room’s other sounds.
Those hands.
She couldn’t stop staring at them as he reached for his cup—large, calloused, undeniably masculine.
Fraser cleared his throat again and when she looked up, he was eyeing her knowingly. She turned her gaze to Declan, who simply lifted an eyebrow at her.
Damn you, Francesca. Focus. No need to be so obvious to a man that shows nothing.
She did not look at him again.
After breakfast, they decided to stay in the hall, and the day stretched awkwardly. “Eloise, don’t play too close to the fire,” Francesca said, her voice high with concern. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”
She waited for the child to obey, glancing at Declan before turning to Betsy. “One of my books, please.”
Betsy nodded quickly, hurrying away to fetch it.
“Fraser!” Eloise’s delighted cry broke the still air. “You promised to show me your horse today!”
“Did I now?” Fraser winked at the child. “Well, a promise is a promise. Though I seem to recall seein’ some kittens in the village yesterday…”
Betsy came back inside and handed Francesca the book. She opened it to read while pretending not to listen to the conversation.
Eloise’s entire face lit up. “Kittens? Real kittens?”
Francesca saw Declan’s warning glare fix on his cousin, and she smiled behind her book, but Fraser continued blithely on. “Aye, wee ones too. Black and ginger, if I remember correctly. The miller’s cat had a litter a fortnight ago.”
“Can we get them? Please?” Eloise clasped her fingers together, giving a little curtsy as she did so. She turned pleading eyes on Francesca. “Aunt Fran, I promise I’ll take care of them! Bluebell needs friends, and I’ll feed them and brush them every day.”
“Absolutely nae,” Declan cut in, his voice firm. “We already have a rabbit hoppin’ about the castle. We daenae need cats as well.”
Clearly, Fraser had mentioned the kittens deliberately, knowing exactly what Eloise’s reaction would be.
“But Laird MacGhee,” Eloise wheedled, moving closer to Declan.
Francesca did not know how the child was not intimidated by his size.
“Cats are very useful. They catch mice and keep the castle clean. Betsy said so. And these ones are still babies. They need someone to love them, or they’ll be all alone. ”
Declan’s expression remained implacable. He didn’t even look at Eloise. “The answer is nay, lassie.”
Eloise’s lower lip trembled, and Francesca felt her heart clench at the sight. If a few kittens could bring her joy…
“Declan,” Francesca said softly, turning to face him with a gentle plea in her eyes. “Kittens are small. They wouldn’t cause much disruption, surely? And Eloise would take such good care of them.”
She stepped closer, winking at Eloise. “It would make her so happy.”
“So happy!” Eloise echoed, sniffling.
“And I promise to help ensure they don’t cause any trouble,” Francesca reassured him.
“They’d cause plenty,” Declan muttered, but she caught the slight softening around his eyes as he looked at Eloise’s hopeful expression.
“They won’t. They’ll be so good, I promise. I’ll take care of them!” Eloise said earnestly, sensing an opening. “I’ll make sure they don’t bother you at all, Laird MacGhee. You won’t even know they’re here.”
“That’s highly unlikely. I ken ye’re here. I ken yer rabbit is here. Why would the kittens be any different?” he replied, but Francesca could see he was wavering. She fully expected him to refuse.
“Have a heart, husband. Give the child her kittens,” Francesca coaxed gently, her voice carrying a quiet plea that mirrored Eloise’s. “It would make us all very happy.”
Eloise’s eyes sparkled with hope, but Declan was silent, his gaze still unwavering, as though weighing something unseen. Francesca could feel the tension thickening the air, the pressure building in her chest.
Declan’s jaw worked as he looked at the two of them. After a long moment, he let out a long-suffering sigh.
“Two kittens,” he said gruffly. “Nay more. And if they scratch me furniture or disturb me work, they’ll be livin’ in the stables. Understood?”
Francesca and Eloise nodded eagerly and clapped their hands excitedly.
Declan’s eyes flicked briefly to Francesca. “If ye’re willin’ to ride to the village,” he said carefully, “I suppose we could retrieve them.”
“We don’t need to go together,” she said, surprised that he said we. The idea of him joining them felt like an unexpected shift in their dynamic.
“I’ll escort ye,” he replied abruptly, his tone brokering no argument, “to the village.”
“Me Laird. You don’t need to go. Fraser or even any of your guards can escort me to the village.”
Francesca did not miss the sharp glance her husband sent Fraser and instantly regretted the suggestion.
“Ye’re me wife now,” Declan said, his words direct and unwavering, his voice lower than before. “Me duty is to protect ye. When ye travel, I’m the one to travel with ye. That’s how it works.”
There was no room for disagreement in his voice, and though it was not a suggestion, the meaning of his words was clear.
The possessive edge to his voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. He might not want her sharing his bed, but apparently, he took his responsibilities as her protector seriously enough.
She glanced at Eloise, who had already clasped her hands together in her most pleading gesture, and turned to Declan with a softened tone.
“Yes, Me Laird.”
Eloise bounced in her seat. “Will both of you go, then?”
“Someone needs to ensure yer aunt doesnae get lost in the Highlands,” Declan replied dryly.
Fraser’s grin turned positively wicked. “How romantic. A newlywed couple’s first outin’ together—to fetch kittens.”
“Daenae ye have patrols to oversee?” Declan growled.
“Actually, cousin, ye assigned me to rest today. With ye and yer new family,” Fraser stood, stretching lazily. “But I’ll make meself scarce. Clearly, ye need time alone with yer lovely bride to discuss… kitten logistics.”
He sauntered out before Declan could respond, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
“We’re leaving in two hours,” Declan announced abruptly, rising from the table, “if that suits ye.”
“That would be perfect.” Francesca kept her voice carefully neutral despite the flutter in her stomach. “Thank you for agreeing to escort me.”
His eyes darkened at her formal tone. “I’m yer husband, Francesca. Ye daenae need to thank me for protectin’ what’s mine.”
The possessive words sent heat racing through her veins,. though she refused to let it show. “Of course, Me Laird.”
“Declan,” he corrected sharply. He leaned close until they were merely an inch apart. She gasped, knowing if he moved even slightly, his lips would be on hers. “Ye only call me Declan now, wife.”
Then he was gone, striding from the breakfast room with his usual commanding presence, leaving Francesca to wonder what exactly was happening between them.