Andrew reddened, glancing away. “She’s nae what I expected. People can always surprise ye beyond words, cannae they?”
“Aye, and sometimes they are exactly what ye thought they would be,” Nora murmured. She didn’t bother to explain herself, and Andrew didn’t bother to ask. Perhaps it was better that way.
Creighton fought to listen to what his little sister was telling him. Laurie was in a fine, chirpy mood today, talking about everything and nothing. He should be listening, should be appreciating the fact that she was here, with him, and not dead at the foot of a MacCrimmon cliff.
Instead, he could think of nothing buther.
Nora had stuck to her word and avoided him assiduously. He’d done his best to oblige her, although there was no way of avoiding glimpses of her here and there. He’d see her at oneend of a room, leaving as he entered. He’d spot her through a window, crossing the courtyard. Or perhaps he might see her out of the corner of his eye, her back retreating in the opposite direction.
It drove him mad.
Like now, for instance, when she was standing so close to Andrew, talking and laughing at something he had said. Creighton tightened his jaw, curling his fingers into a tight fist. It would be too easy to stride over to them and grab her shoulder, pulling her away from Andrew and toward him.
How would she react? Would she shout and pull away from him, angry? Would she gasp in shock and do nothing?
His mind threw up quick flashes of memory. Nora, her head tilted back, eyes closed in bliss, naked skin shivering beneath scented bathwater. The thought sent a hot rush of arousal through him, pooling in his stomach and pulsing down toward his groin.
Mouth suddenly dry, Creighton licked his lips, trying to force some moisture into his tongue.
She doesnae want this. She doesnae want me. And I have nobody to blame but meself.
Her words came back to haunt him at all hours of the day and night. He could still see her tired, heavy eyes before him, her face pale and resigned.
‘Ye do nae even ken what there is between us. Perhaps ye are right, and there’s nothin’. I daenae understand ye, Creighton.’
He swallowed thickly.
I could make her understand me. I could tell her the truth.
Lying to oneself was easy, but not quite as easy as lying to someone else. When had he become so comfortable hiding his true self? A laird had to consider others, had to think about his image, but wasn’t that what Dallas had warned him against? Refusing to let the outside world touch him? Refusing to wed, refusing to listen…
I have been a fool,Creighton thought, the clumsy realization of having made a mistake filtering into his hazy mind.What have I done?
“Crey? Crey, ye arenaelistenin’ to me,” Laurie said, butting peevishly into his thoughts. “First, it was Nora nae listenin’ to me this morning, and nowye. It’s nae fair.”
Creighton swallowed, dragging his eyes down to face his little sister. She stood with her hands on her hips, scowling up at him, every inch a child.
A lump formed in his throat.
I almost lost her. But then, if I died and left her to inherit the lairdship, she’d lose herself.
“I’m sorry, pet,” he said aloud. “What were ye sayin’?”
Laurie narrowed her eyes at him. “Ye are bein’ weird, Crey.”
“I am nae.”
“Ye are so. Ye keep starin’ over at Nora and Andrew, and ye daenae look very pleased.”
He cleared his throat.Curse the insightfulness of a bairn.
“I daenae ken what ye are talkin’ about.”
Laurie sniffed, folding her arms tight across her chest. “Aye, ye do. Ye are starin’ at them, and ye look very angry.”
Creighton made an effort to compose his face. “I am nae angry.”
“But ye were,” Laurie sniffed. She glanced over at Andrew and Nora. As they watched, Nora said something that made Andrew smile, the sort of wide, eye-crinkling smile that rarely graced the anxious young man’s face. Creighton’s heart constricted.
