The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(26)
“It’s what families do.” He rubbed her back and she sighed into his chest. It was wonderful, holding her, but he knew it was a precious thing and he refused to ruin it. Though he wanted to kiss her, and he wanted to very badly, he did not.
After a minute or two, she pulled back and dabbed at her tears. “I’m sorry, blubbering all over you like that.”
“I am happy to be blubbered on,” he said with a smile and was pleased when she smiled back. “It’s what friends are for.”
She caught his gaze and held it for a long while. “Is it? Then I am very glad to have your friendship, Ranald Gunn.”
Words escaped him, but he was able, at great cost, to murmur, “And I am glad to have yours, Anne St. Claire.”
“So,” she said in a suddenly chirpy tone that he suspected was total affectation. “What serious business did I interrupt?”
“Ah. Important business indeed. I was writing to Catriona to inform her that climbing on the stable roof is not advisable.”
Anne’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “She was climbing on the stable roof?”
“Nae. But she wanted to. She wrote to me complaining that Susana would not allow it.”
“That seems wise of Susana.”
“Susana is verra wise. Although, to be fair, the stable climbing was probably Isobel’s idea.”
“Isobel?”
“Susana’s daughter.”
“Ah. The other hellion.”
“Indeed. In addition to complaining about the climbing constraints, Catriona has also asked me if she may have her own sword because—apparently—Isobel has one.”
Anne laughed out loud. “Perhaps Susana is not so wise after all.”
“It is Scotland. Things are different there.”
“I can only imagine. Do you regularly give five-year-old children weapons?”
He had to laugh. “I told you Catriona needs a mother.”
“Indeed she does.”
“Would you like to see her?”
Her eyes brightened. “I would love to.”
Ranald pulled out the miniature he had of his daughter and handed it over.
“Oh.” Anne’s features softened. Her eyes warmed and her lips parted. “She is precious.”
“Aye. She is.”
“Is her hair really that red?”
He smiled. “Aye.” He took back the portrait and studied it for a moment. “She has her mother’s hair,” he said through the lump in his throat.
“You really should not wait long. Every girl needs a mother’s love.”
“Aye. But I doona want to marry just for Catriona. Is that selfish of me? To want love?”
Anne’s expression tightened. “Love is a fantasy.”
He swallowed. “Is it?”
“I don’t know anyone who is truly in love.”
“I was in love with Glenna. We loved each other deeply. It was a beautiful thing. When you’ve had that, you doona want to settle for anything less.”
Something reminiscent of pain and longing filled her eyes. “Don’t you?”
“Nae, my lass. You do no’.” He leaned in and kissed her, gently, on the forehead. “How I hope you can experience such love. How I hope it will prove you wrong.”
*
Anne stared at Ranald, her heart pounding in her chest. His expression was so raw, so sincere, it hurt her to look at it.
He wanted her to know love.
She nearly laughed because on the one hand, she knew love was a foolish dream, but on the other hand, she ached for it. She ached to feel what he’d felt for Glenna, that lucky, lucky woman. She ached to be held and stroked and revered, as he had held her earlier.
She laid awake at night wanting it, yet afraid of it and rejecting it all at the same time.
It was illogical for her to want it with him.
It was insanity.
For one thing, he was a feckless Scot, and her mind told her a relationship with a man like that would end in heartbreak.
Her heart disagreed. Deep in her soul, she knew him, this man, her friend. She knew he was not feckless in the least. He would not betray her or mock her or toss her aside if she gave him her affection.
On the other hand, he was a Scot. His home was miles away. Any lasting relationship with him would take her away from her family, probably forever, which she could not abide.
How ironic was it that she’d finally found a man she wanted to be with, but would have to give up everything she loved to make it happen?
No. She could not.
So she took his hands in hers and squeezed. She fixed a friendly look on her face and smiled. “I am so glad to have you as my friend,” she repeated, and then she quickly quit the room before she did something utterly foolish.
Like kiss him.
Chapter Ten
Hamish was the first one ready for the evening and down in the parlor, though it surely wasn’t his eagerness to see Elizabeth again. It had horrified him earlier, seeing her on that couch, motionless and weak.
She was not weak. It did not become her.
He’d been swamped with worry all afternoon. He headed across the drawing room for the whisky decanter and poured himself a draught. It would be a long night, and he needed the sustenance.