The old woman’s eyes gleamed. “Speaking about children, now, where is my great-niece? Francesca tells me she’s taken to Highland life remarkably well.”
“I’m here.” Eloise’s small voice came from where she was hiding between Francesca’s skirts and his legs.
“Come here, child. Let me look at you.” Lady Gretchen’s tone softened considerably. “Oh, you have your mother’s eyes, but there’s Francesca in you too. You seem very lively, too, I’m glad Francesca found a way for you two to be together, because my poor bones could not take running around after you,” she said with humor.
Eloise pressed closer to Francesca, then surprised them all by reaching out to grab Declan’s hand. Her small fingers wrapped around two of his larger ones with surprising confidence.
“This is Laird MacGhee,” she announced, as if presenting him for inspection. “He got me kittens. And he lets Bluebell stay in my room even though rabbits shouldn’t live indoors.”
“Does he now?” Lady Gretchen’s eyebrows rose as she studied their joined hands. “How very indulgent of him.”
“I’ve been meaning to show you the grounds, Aunt,” Francesca said quickly, clearly trying to redirect her aunt’s attention. “The gardens are quite lovely this time of year, and the view of the loch is beautiful.”
“Can’t I stay with Laird MacGhee?” Eloise tugged on his hand. “He hasn’t seen Bluebell in days. I need to show him the new tricks I taught him.”
Declan looked down at the child clinging to him, feeling something uncomfortable shift in his chest. When had this happened? When had Eloise stopped being “Francesca’s niece” and started feeling like she was… his?
“The bunny can wait, darling,” Francesca started, but Lady Gretchen waved her off.
“Nonsense. Let the child show her father the rabbit. You and I need to have a proper conversation anyway.” She linked her arm through Francesca’s with obvious intent. “About marriage. And duties. And whether my niece is being properly cared for in this Highland fortress.”
Father.
“Aunt Gretchen, really, that’s not necessary.”
“Come along, dear. Don’t keep an old woman waiting.”
Declan watched Francesca being towed away, her face scarlet with embarrassment. She shot him a look over her shoulder that was equal parts apology and mortification.
“Are they going to talk about grown-up things?” Eloise asked, still holding his hand.
“Aye, lass. Grown-up things.”
“Boring things?”
“Very boring.” He allowed himself to be led toward the gardens where Bluebell’s latest hiding spot was apparently located. “Now, what’s this about the rabbit?”
The rabbit, it turned out, had learned to hop on command. Or at least, that’s what Eloise claimed as she demonstrated by making clicking sounds with her tongue and watching Bluebell bounce around the garden.
“See? When I click twice, he hops. When I click three times, he comes to me.” She demonstrated, and the rabbit did indeed hop over to her. “Isn’t he clever?”
“Very clever.” Declan crouched down to the child’s level, studying the white rabbit with its twitching nose. “Though I suspect he’d come to ye regardless of how many clicks. Ye’re the one who feeds him after all.”
“Maybe. But it’s more fun to think he’s doing tricks.” Eloise stroked the rabbit’s ears. “He’s not a baby anymore, though. Betsy says he’s almost grown.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm. Which means we need to start looking for a wife for him.” She said this with the utmost seriousness, as if rabbit matrimony was a matter of grave importance.
“A wife?” Declan almost choked, trying to hide his amusement. “And why does Bluebell need a wife?”
“So he won’t be lonely. Everyone needs someone, don’t they?” She looked up at him with those green eyes so like Francesca’s. “Otherwise, they’re all alone, and that’s sad.”
Out of the mouths of babes indeed.
“Maybe Bluebell likes being alone,” he suggested. “Maybe he doesnae want the complication of a wife.”
“That’s silly. Nobody wants to be alone forever.” She picked up the rabbit, cradling him gently. “You have Aunt Francesca, so you won’t be lonely. Bluebell should have someone, too.”
