Page 114 of Some Like It Scot
I hadn’t ruined it.
After kissing me senseless in the linen closet (which was not Edwardian appropriate at all), Graeme renewed the invitation for lunch at his house the next day before I needed to be back at Craighill to get ready for the ball. When he’d sheepishly added that Lachlan would be joining us, my quick enthusiasm garnered me another round of kisses until we both parted ways, me for the class and him to... watch the class.
Well, he watched me some too.
Then practiced the waltz with me.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I cared for such a man.
And he cared forme.
And of course this realization didn’t happen last week when I had time to make decisions. No, I had less than two days left to sortout what we were supposed to do about all that caring. Because, for better or worse, I was due to leave Scotland the day after the ball for an assignment I couldn’t change.
So, maybe I had to tone down my happily-ever-after mindset to something more... realistic. Something temporary. Fleeting.
I took the following morning’s relaxed schedule to walk down to Mirren’s so I could have a last chat with her before I headed to Graeme’s. Craighill was aflutter with activity in preparation for the ball, and I needed to apologize for my flight from Mirren’s on Sunday. Explain.
As soon as she saw me through the window, she opened the door and drew me into a hug. “Ah, hen, I hoped you’d pop in.”
“I just wanted to apologize to you before I leave. I doubt, with all the activities going on at Craighill, I’d have a chance to talk to you before the ball, and I leave on Thursday for my next assignment.”
“Come in. The knitters will be here in a few minutes, and they’ll want to see you too.”
She led me back to her office, leaving the door open to listen for any visiting patrons. Her tenderness and welcome smoothed over my worries. No guilt or manipulation. No hesitancy in her affection. Just... acceptance and care.
“I wanted to thank you for how wonderful you’ve been. Your whole family.” I accepted the teacup she offered. “I don’t have words to express how special it has been to know you.”
“Do you not plan to come back?”
I paused my teacup to my lips, the question a lingering unknown as far as “coming back” in a way to fit permanently into their world and Graeme’s life. Of course I’d come back to Scotland. It had seeped into my soul. Beguiled me. I had to come back.
“Of course.” I took a sip and lowered my cup to the little table. “I’m just... well...”
“You’re afraid. Aye,” she finished, nodding, her expression softening with a knowing smile. “And rightly so. Love isn’t easy.”
“Especially when you add two totally different worlds to the mix.”
“True. The best loves are made up of a fair bit of challenge. There’s sacrifice and longing and hurt and hard choices.”
I had the sudden urge to come to love’s defense, even though I felt every one of those things deeply. Her smile tipped a little. “But”—she raised a finger in dramatic emphasis—“there is also joy and affection and laughter and friendship.”
And kisses, but I’d keep that one to myself. “And... belonging,” I added, my eyes stinging a little.
Which I’d felt here. With her family. With Graeme.
Her gaze sharpened on me. “And that scares you most?”
“I want it so badly, I’m terrified.” Her face blurred in my vision. “That I’ll bumble it like I do so many other things. Like I did on Sunday.”
“Katie, darlin’”—Mirren reached forward and took my hands in hers—“when someone loves you, truly, no amount of your good-hearted bumbling will steal their love from you.”
“But... but how can you be sure? I’ve felt it happen in my own family. What if... what if I’m not enough?”
She tilted her head, searching my eyes. “How badly do you want to belong? To be loved?”
The taste of it teased an almost insatiable desire. “A lot.”
She squeezed my fingers and released my hands, sitting back in the chair. “There is a castle in Perth that has two towers with a gap between them of about two and a half meters or more. What would that be for you in American measurements?”
