Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C olby Johnstone had visited Olivia three times in the span of three days, during which he spent several hours in Castle McCann. While Olivia might have appreciated his eagerness, Hannah was not so certain.

Today, on the fourth day, Hannah was hoping to have a peaceful day, which she could spend with her sister, who was now seated on the chaise lounge opposite her, with the exact same embroidery hoop in her hands, focused on her work. Hannah was not a big fan of embroidery. She preferred something more active, but Olivia had asked her if they could try it, since apparently, Colby mentioned it was his mother's favorite pastime. That was enough proof to Hannah that her sister was as serious about Colby's advances as he himself was.

"So, ye havenae told me yet what ye think of him," Olivia asked, her words confident, but her fingers trembling as she was unable to point the needle in the necessary direction.

"Of who?" Hannah asked, although she knew exactly who.

Olivia lifted her gaze. "Why, Colby, of course."

"Oh," Hannah replied. The truth was she didn't know yet. But if she told Olivia that, it would immediately take on a negative connotation. She needed to buy some time. "He seems like a nice man."

That was positive enough, and Hannah endeavored to keep the compliment general.

"Just nice?" Olivia didn't seem to be satisfied with that.

"Well, I daenae ken him yet," Hannah defended herself, placing the embroidery hoop in her lap. In her mind, she had already given up this lady-like pastime, deeming it simply not for her. "I've only spoken to him three times."

"He has invited me to come and visit him in London," Olivia announced importantly.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "We shall have to see if that can be arranged."

"Perhaps, ye and I could go together," Olivia suggested.

Hannah didn't like that all that much, but she could see how infatuated her sister was with this man. As a result, anything that pulled her away from him was seen as negative, even if it came from her own sister who meant her nothing but well. That was why Hannah needed to be cautious when approaching this.

"I remember Alistair mentioning a trip to London in two months' time," Hannah told her. "Perhaps we could arrange something then."

"In two months!" Olivia frowned. "That is far too long to wait."

Hannah tried to force some sense into her sister. "Ye've only known the man a week or so, Olivia. Daenae be like a wee child, wantin' somethin' now. Ye have to get to ken him better, to see if he really is the man for ye."

"Oh, but he is!" Olivia assured her, nodding fervently. "I cannae imagine bein' with anyone else, not even if me life depended on it!"

Hannah inhaled deeply. This leaning towards the dramatic was something Olivia learned from her books, where no matter how silly or downright stupid the heroine was, nothing truly bad could ever happen to her, because the fates would align everything in such a manner. Only, this was not one of Olivia's romance books. Horrible things could happen, things neither Olivia nor Hannah could even imagine, and that was why one needed to be cautious.

"No one is sayin' ye need to be with someone else, ye silly lass," Hannah smiled, deciding to use another approach. "I am merely urgin' ye to be careful, and the more ye get to ken someone, the more ye are certain of yer love for him. Isnae that so?"

"Aye," Olivia could do nothing else but agree, which assured Hannah that she had chosen the right approach with her. "But I cannae imagine him bein' any different than he claims he is. After all, he has told us everythin' about his life in these three days he's been visitin' me."

"That is true," Hannah nodded. The point of being so open with someone was twofold. It could really mean that someone wanted to be truthful about his entire life. However, at the same time, it could also mean that someone was just rambling all the time, wanting to keep someone facing one direction, while the truth was in a completely different one.

Hannah wanted to find a way to discover more about this man, only she had no means of doing it alone. She could not very well ask him. That would defeat the purpose. She had to employ help.

At that moment, a knock on the door was heard. The butler appeared, nodding apologetically.

"I beg yer pardon, Lady McCann," he said, and Hannah had to admit that she could not get enough of being called that. She even blushed a little, hoping the old man didn't notice it from where he was standing. "But Miss Olivia has a visitor."

"A visitor?" Hannah echoed, although she immediately knew who it could be.

"Colby!?" Olivia jumped up from her seat, dropping the embroidery hoop to the ground as she did so. "He's here?"

The butler looked at Hannah inquiringly, not certain who to respond to first.

"Is it Mr. Johnstone?" Hannah asked.

"Aye, Lady McCann," the butler confirmed.

Hannah glanced at Olivia, who could barely restrain herself. If Hannah weren't here, she would probably rush to the front door to greet him herself, not thinking about any rules or propriety. Hannah herself was also not all that keen on upholding them all, but some of them were in place to assure the safety of the lady involved.

"Inform Mr. Johnstone that we shall come meet him in the garden. He may join us for a stroll," Hannah said, putting down her own embroidery hoop. The peaceful day she had planned to spend with her sister was ruined.

"Oh, I need to change!" Olivia squealed as soon as the butler closed the door. She twirled around, grabbing the sides of her gown. "Do I need to change?" She quickly released her gown, and her fingers flew up to her hair. "Do I need to fix me coiffure? Oh, I must look a dreadful mess!"

"Ye look fine," Hannah assured her. "After all, a guest shouldnae expect a host to look her best when they come unannounced… for the fourth time in a row."

"I knew he missed me as much as I missed him!" Olivia clapped her hands. "Oh, Hannah… I am so in love with him!"

Hannah inhaled deeply. It was obvious that things were getting out of hand. Her sister was not only smitten, but downright madly in love with this man, whom she barely knew. While it was true that he seemed like a nice enough man, Hannah could still not understand this need to rush everything. Courtship was supposed to be a process in which both parties enjoyed. They would slowly get to know each other and decide eventually whether they were right for each other. Truth be told, her own marriage with Alistair was also not one of the most usual ones and look where they were now.

Where are ye now? A little voice inside of her asked. She honestly didn't know. Sometimes, she could sense that he was slowly opening up to her, which was what she wanted. But other times, she could see him clearly pushing her away.

"Come, Hannah," Olivia grabbed her by the hand. "We mustnae let our dear guest wait!"

With those words, the two girls flew out of the room, heading outside into the garden. Hannah would gladly remain inside, but she had to chaperone her sister. God only knew what might happen if she weren't there to control the situation.

Alistair had managed to successfully avoid Hannah since the morning. He feigned a stomachache and asked for food to be brought to his chamber instead. With Hannah's sister here, he didn't think it would be a problem to leave his wife alone during mealtimes.

However, that night, he found himself unable to fall asleep, and worst of all, she was the only thing he could think of. No matter how hard he tried to sway his mind into considering other topics, he would always go back to her. Always. That knowledge felt like a bucket of cold water.

His first instinct was to go to the library, but he thought she might be there. Stumbling onto her in the dead of night was unwelcome. He could already imagine how soft she would feel underneath his fingers, how kissable her lips would be. No. He had to remain resilient to her charm.

Another option was the garden. Perhaps a nice stroll in the chilly, night air might clear up his head, and maybe even help him fall asleep. It was worth a try.

He grabbed his robe and wrapped it around his body. He doubted anyone would be awake at this time of the night, so he didn't care about any dress codes. He headed outside, and the moment his cheeks felt the chilly breeze, he closed his eyes.

"Alistair?"

His name echoed through the night. He smiled, with his eyes still closed.

Funny. I thought I heard Hannah's voice call out to me.

"Alistair."

There it was again. Only this time, when he opened his eyes, she was standing in front of him. He resisted the temptation to rub his eyes, in an effort to assure himself that this wasn't a dream.

"Hannah?" His voice sounded as if it wasn't his own at all, but rather someone else's. "What are ye doin' here?"

She chuckled, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, and it fell all the way down to her knees. Her hair was cascading down her back in thick, curly waves, framing her face to perfection. Her thin little fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, keeping it in place.

"I could ask ye the same thing," she replied, with a smile.

He wondered if she avoided the library for the same reason.

"I couldnae sleep," he admitted simply.

"Me too," she confessed, looking into the distance. She sounded concerned about something, although he could not tell what that something might be.

He himself was concerned, but that was a different matter. He wondered if he should ask her about it. Then, he remembered that he didn't want to be asked about his own predicaments. So, he remained awkwardly standing by her side, gazing at the same invisible spot in the distance. He had to admit that he enjoyed the silence. Just the mere fact that she was here was enough. He didn't need anything else.

"I noticed Olivia's been seein' her visitor every day," he pointed out, not out of a curiosity but out of sheer effort to make small talk.

"I hope she goes home soon." Hannah's response surprises him.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

He was under the impression that she and her sister were very close. Now, Hannah was saying that she wants her sister gone.

"Have ye had a quarrel?" he wondered.

"Nay," she shook her head. "I just… oh, I'm certain it's nothin'. Me mind is filled with silly thoughts. Daenae pay attention to me." She smiled at him.

That was easier said than done, because he could do anything, apart from not think about her. That was impossible, and he had been trying his best every single day since she had arrived at McCann Castle.

"Yer maither suggested to have a picnic on Saturday," Hannah informed him of something his mother already mentioned, but he didn't seem all that interested. To be honest, he still wasn't, but if they would all go through the effort of arranging it, he would not disrespect them by avoiding it.

"I might be busy with work," he said. "Though I will try to make time for it."

"I think it would mean a lot to yer maither," she said softly. "She is such a sweet lady."

He smiled at this unexpected show of affection for his mother. "She likes ye a lot, ye ken."

"Really?" Hannah seemed surprised.

"Aye," he nodded. "To tell ye honestly, I cannae imagine anyone not likin' ye."

Hearing these words made her blush. He swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to kiss her, to place his lips on every single one of those freckles on her nose, and mark them as his own. He wanted to mark every part of her body as his own, but he feared that in doing so, she would be marking him as well, without even knowing it.

"Ye dinnae like me the first time ye saw me," she reminded him, much to the amusement of them both.

"Ah, well…" he said, scratching the back of his neck, not because there was an itch, but rather because he needed a physical gesture to focus his racing mind on. "That was because of Haggis."

"Haggis still doesnae like ye," she burst into chuckle at these words.

"And ye?" he asked, his tone lowering down to a barely audible whisper. He had no idea where these words came from, but now that they were out in the open, he couldn't take them back.

"What about me?" she wondered.

"Do ye like me?" he asked boldly, feeling more apprehensive than ever before.

Here he was. The ruthless Laird of Clan McCann, who was unafraid and unapologetic, now feeling apprehensive as he waited for her response. He had no idea how he reached this point, that he actually cared about what she thought and what she wanted. Worst of all, he wanted her to like him. Even more than that.

She smiled, blushing. "I already told ye that I did. Quite more than I ought to, to be honest."

She suddenly shivered. He immediately took off his robe, and once again, covered her with his clothes.

"I like it when ye are like this," she said, gripping at his robe, and nuzzling her cheek against the soft fabric.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Gentle," she smiled. "I ken ye cannae be gentle always and with anyone, but… just with me."

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a need to protect her from everyone, to keep her safe and forever his, to never let her leave his side. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her. Following his gesture, she leaned her head onto his chest. He wondered if his heart was beating fast. It had to be. He could barely breathe. But he refused to let go of her.

He had no idea how long they were standing like that, embracing, when she pulled away and yawned.

"I'd best head back," she smiled a little sleepily.

Once again, she stepped on her toes and did the same thing as before, kissing him on the tip of his nose. It was the most endearing thing he had ever witnessed. She bid him goodnight, then slowly returned to the house, leaving him with his heavily palpitating heart and a million thoughts he could not make heads or tails of.