A major part, if he had anything to say about it.
He'd upset her.He hadn't meant to and it frustrated him.He wanted the best for her, wanted her to be happy, and he knew—just as he knew he loved her—that being behind the lens of a camera was what she loved.She was afraid at failing, and worse failing at something she loved so much.
It was way easier to fail at a job you didn't care for than one you hoped with all your heart was a success.He knew that first hand.He'd put everything on the line to open the castle and estate to guests.And, yeah, it was scary as hell, the idea of failure, but it was worth trying.Worth the risk.But he'd come to that decision in his own time, and he knew he had to let Lucy do the same.
Now he just had to get her to stay.He was pretty sure his feelings weren't one-sided, pretty sure whatever was happening between them was mutual.
He hoped.
Shit.What if it wasn't?
After a quick shower, where Ian forced himself not to panic, he cleaned the kitchen from last night's dinner so Fran wouldn't have to, then it was off to the barn to take care of the animals, then over to the cattle shed, followed by tackling the risk assessment he needed to complete for the guest house.
He breezed through the day, excited, anxious, randomly unfocused, and, yeah, still panicked.
What the hell did he know about love?It was like being thrust into the cockpit of a 747 and told to fly the thing home; he had no idea what to do.How it would end.And if he thought too much about it, he broke into a cold sweat.
By the time Ian finished with his day, a little before dinner time, he had managed to settle his mind and his heart.
"There's my lad," Fran said as he entered the kitchen."Long day, no?"
Ian grunted in the affirmative and reached into the refrigerator for a bottled water.
"Enjoy your dinner last night?"she asked as she scrubbed vegetables in the sink.
Ian stilled."It was ...fine."
"Mmm."Usually when Fran mmm'd like that, she knew more than she let on.
"Trout was excellent.You would have been proud."He opened the cap and took a long drink.
"I'm always proud of you, Ian," she said, stopping her work to fix him with a meaningful stare."I've known you since you were a wee bairn, you and your brothers.You three find your share of mischief, but never have I been disappointed in you."
He waited for more, but none came."And you are now."
"Aye.What were you thinking, Ian, running that poor lass off like that?What'd you do to her?"
Instantly, it felt like his heart dropped into his stomach, and a cold dread swept in."Fran.What do you mean, run off?Lucy's not gone."No, Lucy couldn't be gone.She was supposed to meet him for dinner.He was going to tell her how he felt and everything was going to be good.More than good.Great.Fucking fantastic.
Bloody hell.
Ian raced from the room and took the stairs two at a time."Lucy!"Her door was open.The room was clean.Her things gone.The bed was made, and on it were photographs she must have had printed during the day.
Dazed and out of breath, Ian sat on the edge of the bed.They were candids.Pictures of Fran and Hamish.Dev and Hildie.Dimon playing in the loch.He flipped through them, his heart pounding and hurting like hell.She left.Just ...left.
The last picture he picked up was one of her.The one he'd taken at the castle ruins.
No.He wasn't accepting this.Not by a long shot.
Ian hurried to the ground floor and met Hamish as the old man strolled through the main hall."Lost something have ye?"he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Not funny, Hamish.Do you know when she left?"
"Oh, I'd say about forty minutes ago.Willna get far, though.That rental ...issue with the petrol, ye see."
Ian knew immediately that Hamish had done something to her car.Lucy wouldn't get far.He grabbed the old man in a bear hug, touched by what he'd done and so relieved he was shaking inside."Thank you."
Hamish untangled himself and puffed out his chest, trying to appear unaffected."While yer standing here actin' like a lass, the other one's gettin' away."
