Maybe that wasn’t exactly all. But that’s what he was aiming for—treating her like a sibling.
His mam shook her head. “You’ll also not be putting notions into her head so she starts thinking of herself as more important than she really is.”
The comment needled him in all the wrong places. “Just because she’s a maid doesn’t mean she’s not important.”
“You know what I mean, Kiernan.”
Aye, he did know. If he made it clear to his mam that he would behave honorably, would she leave Alannah alone? “I have no intention of having a dalliance with a maid. Not now. Not ever. And as far as courting her, she’s not someone I would ever seriously consider.”
“Good, because the cook tells me she knows nothing about all the uses of silverware, doesn’t understand mealtime mannerisms, and doesn’t know the appropriate way to serve tea.”
He wanted to chastise his mam for her emphasis on such trivial things. But how could he when his list of wifely requirements had included things like having a well-bred wife,one from high society who was poised and could manage a large house?
The conversation hadn’t gone much differently for the rest of the five minutes or so that they’d talked. He’d finally ended it by telling Mam to treat Alannah fairly and to leave her alone.
Unease had nagged him ever since. He sensed that Mam had made up her mind to dislike Alannah from the day he’d first brought her to Oakland. Lucinda Shanahan was stubborn and determined and wouldn’t be swayed. But he was equally as stubborn and determined, and he didn’t intend to be swayed either.
Alannah was staying, and that was all there was to it.
And since she seemed bound to read alone in the moonlight, he would have to make sure she stayed safe.
Without bothering to don his vest or coat, he headed outside, going as quietly as he could so no one—especially Mam—would hear him sneaking around. A part of him resented that he had to sneak at all. But he didn’t want to get Alannah into trouble. And it would certainly be best for her reputation if no one knew of his presence there with her.
As he passed by the flower beds, he breathed in the brisk air and felt the restlessness begin to fade. Once again, at his approach, she didn’t notice or hear him, was too engrossed in her book—the Jane Austen he’d given her. As before, she was lying on her stomach in her nightgown. But this time, she was wearing a cloak.
He paused at the edge of the blanket she’d spread out, folded his arms, and waited for her to glance up and see him.
After a moment of standing, frustration pooled low inside.The entire Farrell gang could have surrounded her, and she wouldn’t have heard them.
He exhaled a huff of exasperation.
At the sound, she released a soft squeak of surprise and slapped her book closed. Her gaze flew up to him, her eyes wide and guileless. Her face was soft in the lantern light, a warm tan, with pieces of hair framing her cheeks and the rest contained to a braid.
“You scared me.” She pushed herself up so that she was sitting.
“I told you not to come out here.”
She lifted her chin, and her eyes flashed with sudden defiance. “I tried to stay away, but I needed just a few minutes.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation to join her. He stepped onto the blanket and began to lower himself. “Since you refuse to listen to me, you leave me with no choice but to join you and watch over you.”
She reached for the lantern and her book, sliding them aside. Was she so easily making room for him and welcoming him to be here with her?
He took the spot beside her. As he stretched out his legs and then leaned back on his elbows, he glanced at her sideways.
She was watching him, her eyes still wide, her long lashes framing them and making them even more beautiful.
The words “You’re beautiful” pushed to the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t say anything like that, had to treat her like a sibling, had to prove to Mam that he had no intention of having a dalliance with Alannah or anything else even close to it.
“How do you like Jane Austen?”
Alannah caressed the back cover of the book. “I love her. She’s my new favorite author.” A long daisy stuck out of the middle of the book where she’d closed it.
He couldn’t stop a strange pang of jealousy, that she didn’t like him as much as the book and that she was caressing the inanimate object rather than him. He swallowed the desire for her attention and touch and instead focused on the stars overhead. The rain clouds were gone, leaving a few wisps behind.
“Looks like you’re about halfway done.” He forced his tone to remain casual.
She released a soft laugh. “This is my second time reading it, so it is.”
