Hannah and the Highlander (16 page)

She was wrong.

For one thing, the small dining room was enormous. The table seemed to be leagues long and she was expected to sit at one end, with her groom at the other; he was so far away she could barely make out his features. The footmen showed Lana to a seat near the center, but she sniffed and moved her setting to Hannah's side.
Thank heaven.

Still, conversation was awkward, so Hannah didn't bother as the footmen brought the first remove.

Andrew broke the clanging silence. “How are you finding Dunnet?” he asked from far, far away.

Hannah's annoyance rippled. She cupped her ear. “I beg your pardon?” Not a shout, but barely.

“I say, how are you finding Dunnet?” His question rang off the stone walls.

Lana glanced at her. The glint in her sister's eye was mischievous. “What did he say?”

“I have no idea. I'm certain he said something, but I couldn't quite make it out.”

“Me either.”

With exchanged looks and heavy sighs, Andrew and Alexander picked up their bowls and plodded down the long room to the other end of the table.

It was a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

Hannah beamed at them as they sat, ignoring her irritation that Andrew sat next to Lana and offered her a far too toothy smile. “I'm so glad you could join us,” Hannah said. The two men flushed, just a tad, which she found gratifying. And on Dunnet, the chagrin was adorable. “I do love an intimate dinner.”

“Of course,” Andrew murmured through his soup.

None of them spoke as they finished the first course, except to comment on how delicious everything was. Hannah had never struggled with casual conversation, but in this she was flummoxed. As much as she wanted to get to know Dunnet, she didn't know where to begin.

As the footmen whisked their bowls away, Andrew gusted, “So, how are you finding Dunnet?” There might have been a tinge of desperation in his voice, but she could have been imagining it.

“It is lovely,” Hannah said.

“Lovely.” Lana offered a shy smile. “The people are so friendly.”

“Aye. They are.” Hannah took a sip of her wine. Her gaze clashed with Dunnet's and a sudden heat rose. There was something in his expression she couldn't quite decipher, but it seemed like appreciation. Whatever it was, it snared her. They stared at each other across the table as silence billowed. Memories of the night before, anticipation for this night, heated her blood. A flush crept up her cheeks. His lips quirked in response.

“I particularly enjoyed my visit to the stables,” Lana said as the next course arrived. “Oh, famous. Syllabub.” She tucked in with fervor. Lana adored a good syllabub. And this was good. Excellent, in fact. Though it might as well have been ashes, for all the notice Hannah took of it.

For some reason Lana's comment captured Dunnet's attention. Hannah hated that he turned away then, to fix his attention on her sister. It annoyed Hannah that she studied his expression as intensely as she did, searching for any hint of regret. Lana was far lovelier. Hannah would hate for him to think he'd offered for the wrong sister.

“The … stables?” he murmured.

Lana licked her spoon. “Aye. The puppies.”

“Ah.” Though he tried to hide it, his interest faded.

Surely that was not relief gushing through Hannah.

“Alexander has a passion for horseflesh,” Andrew explained, shooting a blinding smile at Lana. “He has some of the most sought-after cattle in all of Scotland.”

Lana took another bite of her pudding. “I dinna notice the horses. I liked the puppies.”

Both men nodded and silence fell again. Hannah sought to break it, on the hope that they had stumbled upon a topic her husband might be loquacious about. “So you breed horses, Dunnet?” she asked.

He opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap, then mutely nodded.

The sounds of their spoons working on their dishes rose.

“How long have you been breeding them?”

“A … while.”

“How fascinating.” It wasn't. Not really, but Hannah was determined to draw him out. “I love to ride.”

“Do you?”

She glared at Andrew for the interruption, though it was hardly that. He was probably as anxious as she to keep the waning conversation afloat.

Lana sighed. “I doona ride. Not much. It seems so terribly rude to crawl upon someone's back and make them carry you around, poor creatures.”

The men gaped at her.

Her chin firmed. She leaned forward. “They really doona like it.”

Andrew's lips flapped like a trout. “They … doona…?”

“Of course not. Would you? Would you like someone tossing a nasty saddle on your back and putting a bit in your mouth and kicking you in the flank?”

“I, ah, doona believe I would.”

“Of course not. And neither do they.”

Andrew shifted in his seat. “Still, ah, it is a verra profitable business.” He flashed a dimpled smile at Hannah and she was struck by the haunting familiarity of his features. She studied him, but try as she might, she couldn't recall where she'd seen him before. She glanced at Alexander and flinched at his frown. He shifted it to his brother, who visibly paled.

She might be imagining things, but Alexander almost seemed … jealous. Which was ridiculous. Andrew was a handsome man, but he didn't hold a candle to Alexander.

“The clachan seems verra prosperous indeed,” she said with a reassuring smile at her husband. “I'm sure we shall be verra happy here.”

His frown faded. His gaze bore into hers. He opened his mouth, as though to respond, but Andrew intruded on the moment with another conversation-saving query. “What else have you two done today?”

Lana responded, providing a lengthy dissertation on each and every thing she'd done, each person she'd met, and her every impression. Andrew hung on her every word, which was bothersome, but Hannah found it difficult to focus on her annoyance, because Alexander caught her gaze. Snagged her attention. As Lana's monologue flowed around them, they stared at each other. Oh, it was a wordless conversation, but it spoke volumes.

When his foot nudged hers under the table, she nearly came out of her skin. She nudged him back and his eyes glimmered, but then Lana said something that ripped his avid attention away.

Dunnet stared at Lana, his mouth agape. “I … beg your pardon?”

Hannah glanced at her sister. She hadn't been listening. Not in the slightest.

“I said I had a delightful time in the kitchens.”

“After that,” Andrew urged.

Lana wrinkled her nose. “I said I had a delightful time in the kitchens. Una gave me a wonderful recipe for shortbread.”

Dunnet's brow rippled.
“Una?”

Though his question was directed at Andrew, who was staring rather rudely, Lana responded. “Aye. Una.” She took a sip of her wine. “She's lovely.”

“You mean Morag…” Andrew said.

Hannah recognized the look that flickered across her sister's face. She'd seen it many times before. Her belly tightened; she suspected what was coming.

Lana's jaw firmed. Her eyes glinted. “I mean Una. Morag is her sister.”

Andrew shifted in his seat and rumpled his serviette. “I, ah … Una is … dead.”

A sniff. “I know.”

Hannah's bowels tightened at the two men's expressions. She'd known at some point they would discover her sister's eccentricity, but Hannah had really hoped it wouldn't be at the dinner table on the occasion of their first private meal. Still, it could have been worse. It could have been in a more public setting.

“Lana has a gift.” Hannah's words were sharper than she intended, more defensive. There was nothing to defend here. Lana was who she was and Hannah would stand by her no matter what. She sent a challenging frown at Dunnet.

He cleared his throat and set his wineglass on the table with deliberate care.

Hannah held her breath. Dear God, if he mocked Lana, if he reviled her or humiliated her in any way, she would—

“Did she…” He swallowed. Hannah's heart stalled. “Did she mention … oatcakes?” His tentative smile was so sweet. It sent a wave of warmth cascading through her. It had a hint of humor but also … acceptance. She forced her fingers to relax; she hadn't realized they'd been clenched.

Lana's laugh tripped through the chamber. “Nae, she dinna.” She winked. “Morag wouldna allow it.”

Andrew, taking his cue from his brother, nodded. “Morag is rather proprietary over that recipe.”

Dunnet barked a laugh. “God knows why,” he murmured, and Hannah found herself laughing as well. Joy, pure joy, that they were finally engaged in an exchange, along with the relief that he accepted Lana's oddness, flooded her.

“No one tell her how dry they are,” Andrew whispered, and more chuckles echoed. “Una's were always much better.”

“Morag makes a mouthwatering cake, though,” Lana said. Then she cracked a grin and added, “That is also Una's recipe.”

The banter continued on through the rest of the meal, but Hannah only pretended to participate. Alexander didn't even pretend.

His gaze was fixed on her, and whenever she glanced his way he smiled. It was a slow, cautious smile, but as dinner progressed it warmed into something more. Something scintillating.

It was, all in all, rather riveting, but as much as Hannah enjoyed their nonverbal interaction, she quite desperately wanted to speak with him. Preferably somewhere private. So after the dessert course was served and all the plates had been removed and Andrew had excused himself to meet with his friend Hamish and Lana expressed the desire to find some scraps for Nerid, Hannah turned to her husband and asked, “Would you show me the garden tonight? I imagine it is quite lovely in the moonlight.”

She thought it charming that a red tide crept up his cheeks, that his fingers closed on his serviette, mangling it irreparably. That his gaze skated to and clung to her lips.

His Adam's apple made the long journey down his throat and up again before he spoke. And when he did, his words were whispered. “I would be … delighted.”

She fully intended to use this opportunity to get to know him better, to establish more of a connection and perhaps talk to him about his brother's too-intense interest in her sister, but something in Alexander's expression threatened to send her noble intentions into oblivion.

*   *   *

Excitement raged within Alexander as he stood and took Hannah's arm. The fact that she'd suggested the very thing he'd been contemplating boded well for their future. And not only because he very much wanted to be alone with her, to kiss her, perhaps seduce her. But also because they seemed to be of one mind.

He had decided that walk in the garden after dinner would be an excellent opportunity to deepen their bond, so when
she
had mentioned it his heart had soared.

The connection he felt with her was unlike any he'd ever experienced. It thrilled him to think she felt it too.

As they stepped out into the velvet night, a breeze caught her fragrance and wafted it to him, teasing his senses and making his mind reel. His body tightened; his arousal rose. “This way,” he murmured, leading her along the path. There was a spot he had in mind, a secluded gazebo hidden behind the trees. It was the perfect place to launch a seduction.

“I canna tell you how much I have been looking forward to this,” she said as they made their way along the moonlit path.

“Aye.” Anticipation sizzled. His pace increased. It was a beautiful night. The sky was clear and the stars glimmered overhead. The scent of the ocean and the apple orchards drifted on the air. The gazebo had cushioned benches.

“It is verra important that you and I…”
Kiss? Now?
“Talk.”

“I … ah … Talk?” He stumbled a little on the gravel.

“Aye. There's something I need to discuss with you. Well, several things, but let's begin with your brother.”

Alexander blinked. “Andrew?”

“Aye.” She whirled on him, her beautiful face etched with a frown. “I canna help but notice the way he looks at Lana.”

“Lana?”

“Aye. His gaze is far too amorous. Lana is an innocent. A dear, sweet, gentle soul. And your brother…”

He didn't like the way her nose curled. “Aye?”

“He's a Lothario.”

Not hardly. Oh, aye, he did kiss a lot of women and he was far more charming than should be legal. But a Lothario?

“I should like you to warn him off.”

“Warn him off?”

She shot him a smile. One that made his bowels clench. “Surely you would do that for me?”
Hell. Hell yes.
For that smile he would do anything. He nodded, though it was something of a jerky nod.

“Thank you verra much. That would be so helpful.” Her smile widened and relief played across her face. He realized suddenly how worried she'd been about his brother. And he wondered if he should be worried too. He made a note to speak with Andrew forthwith. First thing in the morning. Then his thoughts scuttled when Hannah stepped closer and gazed up at him solemnly. “We're married now, Dunnet.”

Something tightened in his chest. He couldn't stop his frown.
Dunnet?
Had he never given her leave to address him by his given name? He thought back.
Shite
. He had not. Well, he would rectify that now. “Call me Alexander.”

Her smile was glorious. “Alexander.”

Ah.
He liked the sound of his name on her tongue.

“But although we are man and wife, Alexander, we hardly know each other. And I should verra much like to know you better.” Her expression was warm, earnest, as she gazed up at him. “Would you like to know me better?”

Oh, would he.

He decided it was probably not necessary to go all the way to the gazebo. If he was going to kiss her, this was as good a place as any, in the middle of the roses. Deftly he plucked one. He stepped closer, intent on his target.