Page 76 of The Highlander Is All That

“We most certainly did not. But I am verra thankful. Will you sit with me while I eat?”

She nodded and took the other chair and he draped the linen napkin over his lap and tucked in. The meal was every bit as good as it smelled. “I’ve missed Cook’s puddings.”

“She is a dab hand.”

“Making me fat.”

“Didn’t you eat on the road?”

Ranald sighed. “No’ much. I was anxious to get back.” He stilled then when he realized he’d probably offered too much. “So you could all resume the parties, of course.”

“Of course.” But there was a twinkle of amused skepticism in her eyes. She cleared her throat and glanced down at her hands. “We . . . missed you.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Did you?”

“Yes. Both of you, of course.”

“Of course.” He knew what she was saying and it sent a frisson of excitement through him. “I missed you too,” he said in a deep voice. When her chin snapped up and she caught his eye, he smiled. “All of you.” He took a few more bites, not breaking their gaze. “So . . .”

“So?”

“Did, ah, anything interesting happen when I was gone?”

“Not in the slightest,” she huffed and they both laughed. “Aunt Esmeralda made us go to a musicale last night.”

“How was that?”

“Dismal. Poor Elizabeth had to sit with Twiggenberry all night.”

“Is that so bad? He’s an earl.”

“She doesn’t give a fig for titles, and she really doesn’t like the man.”

“That’s a pity. Lachlan was hopeful about him.”

Anne blinked. “You’re corresponding with the duke?”

“Of course.” He took another bite and then stilled as her expression became thoughtful. “What is it?”

“I, ah . . . Nothing.”

But it was something. It was obviously something. He waited for her to share, because he knew she wanted to.

After a moment she opened her mouth, then closed it again. He tried very hard not to stare at her lips as she worked them. He was so engaged that when she finally spoke, he almost didn’t hear her question. “If I wanted to write to the duke, could I do that?”

Not the question he’d been expecting, but he nodded. “I’m quite sure he would love to hear from you.”

Her adorable little nose wrinkled. “You don’t know what I want to ask him.”

“Do I want to know?”

She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “Probably not.”

He would have been disappointed with her answer if she hadn’t wrapped it in a smile. “Then write your letter. I will see it delivered securely.”

“Thank you, Ranald,” she said shyly. And the sound of his name on her lips, in that tone, stirred something in him. But to be truthful, it had been stirring for a while. Just being in her presence moved him.

She stood then and cupped her hands and said, “I really am glad you’re home.”