Hannah and the Highlander (27 page)

“I willna work my wife like a servant.”

She issued a dismissive snort. “I was raised for this, Alexander. Trained for this. My entire life has been a preparation for managing lands. Do you understand? I can read and analyze reports, make orders on crop rotation, manage stock, conciliate disputes. I can certainly plan a meal or oversee wash day.”

A peculiar look flickered over his face. “You
like
those things?”

Oh dear heavens.
“I love those things. I thrive on those things. This … sitting around and
baronessing
is driving me mad.”

“I suppose … I could find some things for you to do.” His smile held a tinge of relief. She had the suspicion it was not only because they were coming to a meeting of the minds.

“Do … do you enjoy those things?” she asked.

He made a face and said in a small voice, “Not really.”

“Why do you do them?”

“I'm the laird.”

“A laird can hire people, Alexander.”

“Aye, but the onus is on me.”

His tone made his position clear. Though he disliked much of the work that gobbled up his day, he did it because he didn't want to burden others. There was probably the desire to maintain control in there as well. He did seem like something of a controlling sort, when it came to his lands. She recognized the same proclivity in herself.

She crossed her arms and fixed a resolute expression on her face. “Well, now the onus is on
us
.”

He stared at her, a cascade of emotions flickering across his features. “Us?”

“We are a team. We work together to make a go of it. On everything. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“We shall spend the morning tending to the business of Dunnet … together.” Oh, she liked this idea. She liked it very much. He appeared to like it as well. His smile broadened. And then he chuckled. “What?” she asked.

“Together? In my office?”

Where else?
“Of course.”

“We likely willna get … much work done.” He pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away.

She wouldn't give in so easily. Not yet. “We still have the issue of your keeping things from me to discuss.”

He put out a lip. “I apologized.”

“That isna enough.”

He frowned.

“I require a promise from you.”

“A promise?” The way he said it, one would think he'd never heard the word before.

“A promise to
talk
to me.”

His horrified expression made her chest ache. He stared at her in silence for a long while; his lips worked. And then, at long last, he lowered his head. “I doona like to talk.”

She smiled softly. “I've noticed. But Alexander, we have to talk sometime.”

He frowned. “I have … trouble speaking sometimes.” Naught but a murmur.

Ah, lord.
She cupped his cheek and made him meet her gaze. “I know.”

“I doona want you to … think less of me.”

Ach.
As though she could. She shook her head. “I wouldna. Not ever.”

“Sometimes it … takes a while for … the words to come.”

She smiled encouragingly, brushed the bristle of his beard with her thumb. “I'll wait.”

His cheek bunched. He swallowed heavily. A glimmer appeared in his eye. “Hannah…”

“Alexander, I doona care about any of that.” She took his hands in his. “I just want to
talk
to you. Promise me. Promise me that you will never again keep something from me. Nothing. Not even the tiniest thing.”

He didn't respond right away, though she could see the thoughts sifting through his mind. She waited. At long last, he nodded. “I … All right.”

“You promise?”

“I do. But Hannah…”

She frowned. “What?”

“There are … many tiny things. Boring things.”

No doubt there were, but they would forge through the sea of details together. The thought elated her. “We shall begin working together in the morning. Oh, and rule number one, when you awake, you willna sneak off—”

He bristled. “I never sneak.”

“You willna sneak off without waking me first. And you shall do so with a kiss.”

He complied immediately. The kiss was soft and sweet and nearly impossible to resist. Nearly. She pushed him away again. “And no more letters.” Her brow wrinkled. “At least, not in the morning. I doona mind the poems, but waking to a barked missive on my pillow is—”

“I doona bark.”

“You rather do, darling.” She patted him on the chest, a consolation. Why he stilled, why his muscles locked, was a mystery.

“Did … you … just … call me darling?”

Oh dear.
She had. “Perhaps.”

“Does that mean … you forgive me?”

“Perhaps.”

He whipped her into his arms again and kissed her, this time with a savage passion. It occurred to her that if she allowed this to continue she might lose ground. So when he lifted his head she added, “If you agree to my terms of surrender.”

“Och, aye, I do.”

She evaded his questing mouth, so he settled on kissing her neck. It was rather scintillating, but somehow she retained the wherewithal to add, just to underscore her point, “And tomorrow we begin working together. We shall spend the morning in your office. Together.”

His smile was a slow quirk, but he said, “Nae.”

Aggravation dribbled through her. “What do you mean, nae?”

“I have a better idea.” His expression was mischievous and lighthearted. It sent a gust of elation through her soul, a ripple of delight. He pulled her closer and she nestled against him, allowing his warmth to soak in.

She tipped her head to the side and said in a teasing tone, “Is this the same idea you always have? The one that invariably leads to tangled limbs?”

His chuckle rumbled through her. “Nae, Wife, but we could do that tomorrow instead, if you like. I was thinking of taking you on something of a wedding journey.”

“Hmm. Tangled limbs indeed,” she teased.

“A tour of the borders. To help you become acclimated for your work. I should like to show you everything.”

“I would love that.”

“All the way round, it's a two-day ride. We can stay at the inn in Bower.”

“Ah. The tangled limbs.”

“Indeed.” He grinned. It was a beautiful, carefree offering and she loved it.

In fact, she very much suspected she loved him.

*   *   *

They started their ride as dawn broke because Alexander explained they would need to get an early start if they were to make it to Bowermadden Inn before dark. At the last moment, they decided to take Brùid, because his large brown beseeching eyes could not be resisted. He loped along beside them, glorying in the run, his tongue a'loll.

Hannah was entranced as she and Alexander rode side by side—he on Wallace and she on Beelzebub—but she was not just entranced with the beauty of Dunnet. Alexander's glances and smiles bedazzled her as well. For a while, as they rode up to Gutteregoe and turned for Loch Dunnet, he held her hand, which was a challenge because the two horses didn't care to be so close.

When Beelzebub took a swipe at Wallace and Alexander's mount retaliated, both Hannah and her husband laughed and released hands. They could touch tonight.

They followed the Burn of Ratter through Greenvale and then he gave her a tour of the Barrack mill. It was much like every other mill she'd ever seen, but it was fascinating … because he was there.

After a lovely lunch on the banks of the Loch of Scister, they headed south, toward the village of Hartfield. Just beyond that they stopped at a small croft on the border of Olrig's land, where Alexander introduced her to Agnes, the elderly woman who was now confined to her bed. Though she was ailing and weak, her mind was sharp as a tack, and Hannah enjoyed the riotous tales of the adventures Agnes had had in her youth. It warmed Hannah's heart when Alexander produced a shank of ham and some bannocks for Agnes.

Evening was just beginning to fall as he and Hannah reached Bowermadden Inn, south of the Dunnet border, on the road that ran from Wick to Castletown. It was a simple collection of buildings on the heath, just the inn and the stables, but it was bustling. There were not many roads crisscrossing Caithness and fewer posting houses. Any traveler seeking shelter for the night and a warm meal would stop here.

As they rode into the stable yard, Hannah frowned. “It looks busy,” she said.

Alexander shot her a grin as he dismounted. “Not to worry. I sent a runner yesterday to reserve rooms for us.” He reached for her and she allowed him to help her down. Not because she needed it, but because she enjoyed the slow slide of her body on his.

“That was verra thoughtful of you,” she said softly.

His eyes twinkled. “Not thoughtful so much as prudent. If the inn was full, there would be no … tangling.”

She gusted a sigh. “I do love a man who plans ahead.”

His humor faded. He stilled and their gazes locked. A flush rose on her cheeks.

He leaned closer. “Do you?” A murmur.

She swallowed. “Aye. I do.”

The coming kiss set her blood on fire long before their lips touched.

“Perhaps,” he suggested when he came up for air, “we could have our meal served in our rooms.”

“Mmm. An interesting suggestion.”

“I am a wealth of interesting suggestions.”

“You most certainly are.” She shot him a mischievous glance. “So, sir, am I.”

His responding grin was wicked. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words stalled as his name echoed through the yard.

“Dunnet!”

He winced. “Blast,” he whispered beneath his breath. Then he fixed a smile on his face and turned. “Bower, old friend.”

Bower was a tall man with a kind, though florid, face. He welcomed Alexander with a slap to his shoulder. “It's damn fine to see you, but what the bluidy hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“I've been showing off my lands to my bride.” He pulled Hannah forward and slipped his arm around her waist. “Ranald Gunn, Baron of Bower, meet my wife. Hannah Lochlannach, of Reay.”

Ranald's eyes widened on her. “Of Reay?” He barked a laugh and slapped Alexander on the shoulder once more. “You dog. Why was I not invited to the wedding?”

Hannah leaned forward and answered for her husband, “It happened …
forthwith
.”

“Ah. I … see. Well, congratulations to you both, and welcome. You're just in time for supper.”

Hannah set her hand on her stomach as it growled. It had been a long time since their impromptu picnic by the loch.

As the ostler took their mounts, Hannah and Alexander fell in beside Ranald and made their way into the inn. Brùid loped at Alexander's heel.

“So, what are you doing here, Bower?” Alexander asked. “The inn is quite a ways from Hestigrew.”

“Aye. Aye. I'm just returning from a hunting trip with some of the local lairds. We decided to stop for a tankard or two before we all return home.”

“Well met then.”

“Aye.”

As they stepped inside the inn, a loud, harsh laugh barraged them and Alexander stilled. When Hannah glanced at him, she was surprised to see his face had become a mask, his jaw tight and his lips pale. He flicked a glance at her. His hold on her tightened.

Curious, she scanned the crowd … and her pulse stuttered.

Niall was here. And he was staring right at her.

*   *   *

Alexander's gut churned.

Damn and blast.
He'd wanted to have a romantic evening with Hannah, a nice dinner and then perhaps some … tangling. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was rub elbows with the local lairds. Especially the ones who were here.

Niall Leveson-Gower for one, especially given the look on his face as he
ogled
Hannah. He was, no doubt, put out that he'd lost her to Alexander. It was clear from Niall's expression he intended to be unpleasant, and Alexander didn't want to expose her to his malice. He certainly didn't want her to witness his own temper, which was beginning to stir.

The other two men lounging beside Niall at the table in the corner—Olrig and Scrabster—were also on the list of men Alexander would least like to spend an evening with. He considered taking Hannah's arm and tugging her back into the stable yard, leaping with her back on their horses and scurrying home in the dark, but before he could, Olrig spotted him.

“Dunnet!” he bellowed, opening his arms wide. He tipped in his chair, as though it was a challenge to stay seated. It was clear he'd had more than a tankard or two. In fact, all the men looked decidedly foxed. “Jus' the man I wanted to see.”

“Aye,” Niall said with an insincere smile. He stood and pulled up two more chairs. “Won't you join us?”

Alexander was about to decline when Bower gusted, “Oh, please do.” His tone was so desperate, Alexander hesitated. No doubt, after days in the company of these men his friend was despairing for some rational conversation.

Alexander glanced at Hannah. “Perhaps for a moment?” When she nodded, he acquiesced and settled her in the seat farthest away from Niall. He sat beside her and shot a dark look around the table. “But we canna stay long. My … bride and I have plans for this evening.”

“I'll bet you do,” Olrig muttered with a smirk. Niall and Scrabster laughed. Alexander glared them all down.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Niall said, fixing his brooding gaze on Hannah. Bless her, she met his eyes without a flinch.

“We're verra happy,” she said, tucking her arm in Alexander's.

Alexander pulled her closer and kissed her brow. And not just to annoy her former suitors, but because he wanted to. “Aye. We are.”