Chapter 14
“Avisitor, Me Laird. Lady Gretchen Watson has arrived.”
Declan looked up from the stack of correspondence he’d been pretending to read, mostly staring at while thinking about yesterday’s scene in the chamber for the hundredth time. “Lady Gretchen?”
“Aye. Lady MacGhee’s aunt. Says she’s come to see how her niece is settlin’ in.”
Perfect timin’. Just when I’m barely holdin’ meself together around the woman.
By the time Declan reached the hall, Francesca was already hurrying forward, her skirts swishing, her face lit with surprise. The woman who had descended from the carriage was plump and rosy-cheeked with bright eyes that missed nothing. She held her arms wide.
“Francesca! My darling girl!”
“Aunt Gretchen!” Francesca exclaimed, flying into her embrace.
Declan slowed, taking in the sight. The woman hugged with both arms and half her frame, patting Francesca’s cheeks as though to make certain she was real.
“Look at you! A married lady now and mistress of a castle no less! I told your mother you’d land on your feet, but did she believe me? No. Always thought Violet the shining star, never you. Hmph! Look how wrong she was.”
Francesca flushed. “Aunt, please.”
But the woman was already turning, eyes sweeping the hall until they landed on Declan.
She marched forward with surprising speed, curtsied, and said in one breath, “So this is the Laird himself! Strong shoulders, grim jaw, aye, I see the appeal. Tell me, are you treating her well? Has she settled in? And when can we expect a christening, hmm?”
Lady Gretchen’s gaze swept over him with the assessing look of someone used to taking measure of men. “My, my…Francesca wrote that you were imposing, but she failed to mention how very Highland you are.”
“Aunt Gretchen!” Francesca’s cheeks flamed.
“What? I’m merely making an observation. The man is built like a mountain. It’s a compliment.”
Declan felt his lips twitch despite himself. “Welcome to Castle MacGhee, Lady Gretchen. It’s an honor to meet Francesca’s family.”
“Of course, I am welcome,” she said briskly. “But answer me. Is she happy? And what about children? A marriage is hardly sealed until there’s a little one in the cradle.”
The old woman’s eyes gleamed. “Speaking about children, now, where is my great-niece? Francesca tells me she’s taken to Highland life remarkably well.”
“I’m here.” Eloise’s small voice came from where she was hiding between Francesca’s skirts and his legs.
“Come here, child. Let me look at you.” Lady Gretchen’s tone softened considerably.
“Oh, you have your mother’s eyes, but there’s Francesca in you too.
You seem very lively, too, I’m glad Francesca found a way for you two to be together, because my poor bones could not take running around after you,” she said with humor.
Eloise pressed closer to Francesca, then surprised them all by reaching out to grab Declan’s hand. Her small fingers wrapped around two of his larger ones with surprising confidence.
“This is Laird MacGhee,” she announced, as if presenting him for inspection. “He got me kittens. And he lets Bluebell stay in my room even though rabbits shouldn’t live indoors.”
“Does he now?” Lady Gretchen’s eyebrows rose as she studied their joined hands. “How very indulgent of him.”
“I’ve been meaning to show you the grounds, Aunt,” Francesca said quickly, clearly trying to redirect her aunt’s attention. “The gardens are quite lovely this time of year, and the view of the loch is beautiful.”
“Can’t I stay with Laird MacGhee?” Eloise tugged on his hand. “He hasn’t seen Bluebell in days. I need to show him the new tricks I taught him.”
Declan looked down at the child clinging to him, feeling something uncomfortable shift in his chest. When had this happened? When had Eloise stopped being “Francesca’s niece” and started feeling like she was… his?
“The bunny can wait, darling,” Francesca started, but Lady Gretchen waved her off.
“Nonsense. Let the child show her father the rabbit. You and I need to have a proper conversation anyway.” She linked her arm through Francesca’s with obvious intent. “About marriage. And duties. And whether my niece is being properly cared for in this Highland fortress.”
Father.
“Aunt Gretchen, really, that’s not necessary.”
“Come along, dear. Don’t keep an old woman waiting.”
Declan watched Francesca being towed away, her face scarlet with embarrassment. She shot him a look over her shoulder that was equal parts apology and mortification.
“Are they going to talk about grown-up things?” Eloise asked, still holding his hand.
“Aye, lass. Grown-up things.”
“Boring things?”
“Very boring.” He allowed himself to be led toward the gardens where Bluebell’s latest hiding spot was apparently located. “Now, what’s this about the rabbit?”
The rabbit, it turned out, had learned to hop on command. Or at least, that’s what Eloise claimed as she demonstrated by making clicking sounds with her tongue and watching Bluebell bounce around the garden.
“See? When I click twice, he hops. When I click three times, he comes to me.” She demonstrated, and the rabbit did indeed hop over to her. “Isn’t he clever?”
“Very clever.” Declan crouched down to the child’s level, studying the white rabbit with its twitching nose. “Though I suspect he’d come to ye regardless of how many clicks. Ye’re the one who feeds him after all.”
“Maybe. But it’s more fun to think he’s doing tricks.” Eloise stroked the rabbit’s ears. “He’s not a baby anymore, though. Betsy says he’s almost grown.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm. Which means we need to start looking for a wife for him.” She said this with the utmost seriousness, as if rabbit matrimony was a matter of grave importance.
“A wife?” Declan almost choked, trying to hide his amusement. “And why does Bluebell need a wife?”
“So he won’t be lonely. Everyone needs someone, don’t they?” She looked up at him with those green eyes so like Francesca’s. “Otherwise, they’re all alone, and that’s sad.”
Out of the mouths of babes indeed.
“Maybe Bluebell likes being alone,” he suggested. “Maybe he doesnae want the complication of a wife.”
“That’s silly. Nobody wants to be alone forever.” She picked up the rabbit, cradling him gently. “You have Aunt Francesca, so you won’t be lonely. Bluebell should have someone, too.”
Before Declan could formulate a response to that innocent observation, Fraser’s voice cut through the garden.
“There ye are, cousin. I should have known I’d find ye discussin’ the matrimonial prospects of livestock.”
“He’s not livestock,” Eloise protested. “He’s my friend.”
“Me apologies, wee one.” Fraser bowed with exaggerated solemnity. “I meant nay offense to Bluebell’s honor.”
Eloise beamed at Fraser. “Bluebell’s going to have a wife.”
“So I heard.” Fraser crouched down, inspecting the rabbit. “A brave lad, rushin’ into wedlock. Hope he doesnae regret it.”
Eloise giggled and set the rabbit down, immediately chasing after him as he hopped toward a patch of clover. Fraser dropped onto the stone bench beside where Declan had been standing, his expression far too knowing.
“So, Lady Gretchen has arrived.”
“Aye. Francesca’s aunt.” Declan remained standing, watching Eloise play. “Stayin’ at her estate nearby, apparently.”
“How convenient. Now she can pop in whenever she likes to ensure her niece is being properly treated by her fearsome Highland husband.”
“I would never mistreat Francesca,” Declan huffed, indignant. “Though aye, I suppose I could be seen as fearsome to some.”
Fraser snorted. “For instance, Tavish, who still cannae meet yer eyes after the ceilidh incident.”
“He insulted Eloise,” Declan growled at the memory.
“Aye, and ye defended her like she was yer own blood. Rather paternal of ye, cousin.” Fraser’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Almost like ye’ve become attached to the wee Sassenach and her beautiful mother.”
“Daenae start.”
“Start what? I’m merely observin’ that married life seems to suit ye. Even if ye are still pretendin’ it doesnae.” He smirked. “So how goes married life, cousin? Settlin’ in with the Sassenach ways?”
Declan’s jaw tightened. “Nothin’ has changed, Fraser.”
“Hasnae it?” Fraser gestured to where Eloise was now trying to coax Bluebell out from under a bush. “That child adores ye. She trusts ye enough to hold yer hand in front of strangers. She talks about ye constantly to anyone who’ll listen. And ye look at her like she’s precious.”
“She’s a child. Of course, she’s precious.”
“Aye, but she’s yer child now. Whether ye admit it or nae.” Fraser’s tone gentled slightly. “And her mother… well. The way ye look at Francesca is somethin’ else entirely.”
“I daenae.”
“Ye do. Everyone sees it except the two of ye. The longin’. The wantin’. The way ye both dance around each other like circling wolves.” Fraser leaned back, crossing his arms. “It would be amusin’ if it werenae so bloody frustratin’ to watch.”
“There’s nothin’ to watch.” Declan’s hands clenched into fists. “What happens between me and me wife is none of yer concern.”
“It is when it’s affectin’ yer mood enough that the entire castle is walkin’ on eggshells around ye.” Fraser’s voice sharpened. “Ye cannae keep doing this, Declan. Wantin’ her but pushin’ her away. Treatin’ her like a stranger. It’s cruel to her, and it’s torture for ye.”
“I’m protectin’ her.”
“From what? Happiness? God forbid the woman might actually want to care for ye. God forbid ye might care back.”
“I willnae make me father’s mistake!” The words burst out before Declan could stop them. “I willnae let meself become so attached that I lose sight of what matters. The clan needs me.”
“The clan is fine,” Fraser interrupted. “The clan would be better if their laird wasnae tyin’ himself in knots tryin’ nae to feel things. Ye think they daenae see it? Ye think they daenae wonder why their laird’s new wife looks so sad sometimes?”
“She’s nae sad.”
“She is. And ye know it.” Fraser stood, moving to block Declan’s view of Eloise.
“Ye’re doing everythin’ yer father did but in reverse.
Ye’re puttin’ all yer energy into keepin’ distance, into maintainin’ control, into pretendin’ ye dinnae feel what ye clearly feel. ” Fraser’s dark eyes bore into his.
“She’s protectin’ herself,” Fraser said quietly. “From ye. Because ye keep hurtin’ her by pullin’ away. And eventually, she’ll stop hopin’ ye’ll change.”
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
“Is it? Is it really for the best that yer wife feels like she’s nothin’ more than a broodmare? That the child ye’re clearly attached to thinks ye only tolerate her? That ye’re so bloody miserable tryin’ to maintain this distance that ye can barely function?”
“I function fine.”
“Ye’re a mess, Declan. We all see it.”
Before Declan could formulate a response, Eloise came bounding over, Bluebell clutched in her arms.
“Look! He let me catch him! Usually he runs away, but today he wanted cuddles.” She beamed up at them both. “Fraser, do you think rabbits get lonely?”
“I think all creatures get lonely, wee one.”
“Right. So ye agree that Bluebell needs a wife, so he won’t be alone.” She looked at Declan with those too-knowing eyes. “Everyone needs someone, don’t they? Otherwise, it’s just sad.”
Fraser’s lips twitched. “Aye, lass. Everyone needs someone. Even stubborn Highland lairds who pretend they daenae.”
Declan shot him a warning look, but Fraser just grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
“Speakin’ of which,” Fraser continued, “how are ye findin’ the responsibility of being a new mother? Are yer kittens settlin’ in well?”
“Oh yes! They’re wonderful.” Eloise’s face lit up. “I read to them every night, and they let me brush their fur and feed them.” She smiled.
“That’s great. Why daenae ye go find Betsy, lass?” Fraser suggested. “I think she was lookin’ for ye earlier about somethin’ important.”
“Really? What?”
“I daenae know, but she seemed quite urgent about it.”
Eloise scampered off, leaving the two men alone in the garden. Fraser turned to Declan with an expression that was equal parts sympathy and exasperation.
“Well, I’ll be on me way too.”
Declan watched his cousin walk away, leaving him alone with thoughts that chased each other in circles. Fraser was right. Eloise was right. Even that damned rabbit was right, apparently.
Everyone needs someone.
The question was whether he was brave enough to admit he needed Francesca. Not just for heirs or alliances but for herself. For the way she made him want to be better. For the softness she brought to his hard edges. For the home she was building in a place he’d only ever seen as a fortress.