The Highlander Is All That (Untamed Highlanders #4)(30)

His apprehension, however, gave him wings. As he, Ranald, and Duncan Mackay pounded to the north, they made excellent time.

Unfortunately, they saw neither hide nor hair of Tiverton’s coach and stopping at each roadhouse to ask if anyone had seen them slowed them considerably, as did stopping for food and sleep.

Several days in, when they reached the road to Leeds, Hamish turned off and headed for Tiverton’s estate while Duncan and Ranald continued northward.

When he determined that the coach had not passed this way, he turned around and rode back to the King’s Road to follow his friends to Scotland.

And damn it. This would extend the journey.

It would be worth it if they found Catherine and brought her back safely, but a part of him hated being away from Elizabeth. It was like a hole in his soul.

Another part of him, the logical part, knew it was a good thing that he would be away a week or more. Elizabeth needed to think, very carefully, about her choices. Twiggenberry was of her class. He had a fortune and a title and he would be a good match for her.

Hopefully, while he was gone, she would see that.

Hopefully, she could forget him and her foolish obsession with him.

Although that thought did not make him feel hopeful in the least.

*

“You seem down.” Anne jumped as Elizabeth spoke behind her. She’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even heard her sister enter the conservatory. “I’m sure Catherine will be all right.”

Oh dear. Anne could hardly admit she hadn’t been thinking about Catherine at all. She’d been thinking about Ranald, and how much she missed him.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on him, and in such a short time. How much she enjoyed their chats and his support.

“I’m sure they’ll find her in time,” she said.

“Of course they will.” Elizabeth assured her. “And if they don’t, I doubt it will make a whit of difference.”

Anne flicked a curious glance at her sister.

“Catherine will never say yes to Tiverton.”

Anne huffed a laugh. “That is true.”

“Though I do hope they come back soon. I miss them.”

Something in Elizabeth’s tone caught her attention. “Them?”

“Of course, them. Both of them.”

This flicker of jealousy did not become her. Surely Elizabeth didn’t have a soft spot for Ranald. She could only pray that was the case. “I suppose they have become a part of the household, in a manner of speaking.”

Elizabeth laughed and clapped her hands, which was, above all things, annoying. “I can’t believe this is you saying that! You hated having them here.”

Anne bent and sniffed a rose to hide her blush. “They grow on you.”

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that.”

Anne eyed Elizabeth warily. She did sound pleased. Far too pleased. “Why do you say that?”

“Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

Oh. Dear. Something sank in Anne’s belly. It felt like a stone. “How can I promise without knowing what it is?”

“You have to. Or I won’t tell.”

Really. Sometimes Elizabeth was so vexing. But she had to know. Her heart pounded with some strange dread. “All right. I promise.”

Elizabeth leaned in and whispered, “I think I love him.”

Oh. Dread, indeed. Nasty bile rose to tickle the back of her throat and she swallowed it down. “Love him?” she parroted.

“Yes.” A gush.

Her mind ceased to work. Somehow she managed to say, “But you’ve only just met him. How can you know it’s love?”

It was a question she’d asked herself more than once. But now she feared the answer.

Elizabeth hugged herself and twirled around the aisles between the roses and the potted palms. “It’s the way I feel when he looks at me. When he holds me. When we kiss . . .”

Anne’s head went woozy. They’d kissed? Oh dear. This was worse than she’d thought. And now that she thought about it, Ranald had never said or done anything in the least romantic. He’d never once intimated that he felt a certain way for her. All his glances, smiles, gentle touches . . . Not the least bit amorous.

It had all been in her head.

In her imagination.

She’d thought she’d seen that warmth in his eye, but he was the one who’d insisted on friendship, hadn’t he?

Her cheeks went hot as a familiar mortification washed through her.

“I am certain he feels the same. He told me he did.”

“He told you?” Of course he would. Elizabeth was enchanting and lovely and young— “So what do you think? Would you come and visit us if Hamish and I get married? I know you don’t like Scotland, but I couldn’t bear not seeing you at least once in a while.”

“Of course I would, darling—”

Wait. Had she said Hamish?

She had said Hamish, hadn’t she?

Before she could ask, Elizabeth tackled her in an effervescent hug. “Oh, I am so happy, Anne. I’ve hated keeping it a secret.”

“I, ah, does Aunt Esmeralda know?” It was all she could manage through her relief.

Elizabeth pulled back and gaped at her. “Are you mad? She wants me to marry Twiggenberry and have an affaire with a Scotsman.”