Page 24 of A Time & Place for Every Laird (A Laird for All Time #2)

Parking her car in a lot beneath the elevated highway near the ferry terminal, Claire turned off the motor and got out, joining Hugh on the opposite side of the car, where he stood staring up at the buildings surrounding them. “What do you think?”

“It is quite … loud.”

Claire had to smile at that. With everything he had seen, noise was the greatest impression downtown Seattle had made on him. “Just loud?”

Hugh nodded. “’Twas one of the first things I noticed here. There is always some noise, a hum that lingers in the air, but there is surprising solitude as well. I am far more accustomed tae having people aboot.”

“What do you mean?”

“At Rosebaugh, there were at least fifty people within its walls at all times,”

Hugh explained. “Family, retainers, servants. My home was open tae my clan at all times. Court was even worse. There was nae privacy, even in the bedchamber, which often felt as if it were my valet’s domain rather than my own. I hadnae dined wi’ just one person in many years. The privacy is unexpectedly agreeable.”

While she was conversely enjoying company where she had been alone for years, Claire couldn’t imagine sharing her house with so many people. It would be like attending a family reunion each day, and she shuddered at the thought. Every day with Danny again? Eighteen years had been enough of that!

“So we’re noisy yet restful?”

she teased. “Is that all?”

“Ye might nae be pleased wi’ my other observations,”

Hugh prevaricated. “Where is this place ye spoke of where we might find a meal?”

“It’s just up the street a ways,”

Claire said, pointing to the north. “A restaurant called the Crab Pot. It’s a little touristy, but the food is good.”

“That sounds appetizing,”

he said, with a hint of facetiousness lacing the words.

“It’s good. You’ll like it.”

Hugh only grunted but offered his arm courteously to her. With only a heartbeat of hesitation, Claire took it, tucking her hand in the crook of his strong arm before leading him across Alaskan Way and up the boardwalk. As they walked, Claire relished the warmth of having a masculine arm beneath her hand once again, and Hugh silently absorbed the sights and sounds around them, much as he had from the car earlier. The crush of people and tourists on the waterfront. The cars, buses, and cyclists to their right. The boats, birds, and shops to their left.

“What other observations?”

“Simply that ye live in a world of incredible luxury,”

he began, pausing to look over a table covered with small trinkets all marked with the city’s name and an image of the Space Needle. “For days now, I hae marveled again and again for what the future has wrought, marveled that the simplest object”

– Hugh lifted a souvenir pen from a cup – “such as this pen filled with ink is taken for granted.”

He rolled the pen between his fingers for a moment before dropping it back in the cup. “For ye, they are naught but novelties, but tae me, they are nothing short of phenomenal. Yer people use wi’out care what I once saw as unimaginable. Ye hae machines tae do everything for ye. Tae carry ye places, tae cook for ye, tae clean and tae do yer laundry. Everywhere there are machines. It hae spoiled ye and made ye—nae just ye but all these people—lazy, I daresay. Ye cannae even walk the stairs any longer or take pride in the craftsmanship of yer buildings and furniture. There is nae adornment, nae real style. Nothing seems tae be built tae stand the test of time. Yer people take all that ye hae for granted.”

“You’re right. We are spoiled,”

Claire agreed as he guided her back into the flow of bodies moving along the sidewalk. There was no way to deny it the truth of his words. “But weren’t you once spoiled as well? You had money, servants to do everything for you. By your own admission, you had no job.”

“In my frustration, I was less than truthful in saying that I had nae occupation.”

“I can imagine that as a duke you had responsibilities,”

she said. She had seen enough of the British royals to know that having a high rank didn’t free a person from burden. “But then and now, that is the one constant. You work hard and you get rewarded. Only the reward has changed a little over time.”

“And what will be my reward in this time?”

“That depends. What do you want badly enough to work for?”

Silence met her question and Claire looked up at Hugh to find him looking at her now instead of the city around them. His blue eyes were deep and penetrating as they met hers, telling her without words what he wanted and a bolt of excitement zipped through her veins. “Oh, well … um,”

she stammered with a blush, uncertain what to say, given their recent conversation on the subject. “We’re here.”

Claire nudged him toward a crowded doorway, pushing the moment aside.

“This is a restaurant?”

he asked, pronouncing the new word slowly, and Claire cast Hugh a bright—if somewhat forced—smile.

“Like it?”

“’Tis even more deafening than the city beyond.”

Another fine point that Claire could not deny. The Crab Pot was housed in the Waterfront Arcade, a building that also housed a couple tourist gift shops as well as an actual arcade. The entry hall was exceedingly loud and bursting with people. Some were shopping while others were sitting on benches that lined the way. It was Saturday afternoon on the waterfront, Claire realized with a grimace. Surely, there would be a wait to get in.

Grabbing Hugh’s arm, Claire pulled him to a halt before he could just saunter pass the hostess podium into the restaurant and take any table. “Wait.”

“Why? Ye cannae expect me tae wait in queue.”

“Sure I can. You just can’t walk right in there like you own the place.”

Hugh raised a brow. “I can do anything I please.”

“Really? Anything?”

she scoffed. “You couldn’t just walk in there naked.”

“I probably could, if only just the once,”

he said with a straight face.

Claire studied the harried hostess as she took the name of another among the waiting patrons. A half-hour wait, at least. Slanting a speculative look at Hugh, she said, “Care to prove it? Prove that you can do what you want? That you are the greatest flirt ever to come out of Scotland?”

“A wager?”

“Call it substantiation.”

Hugh turned to the hostess thoughtfully but didn’t move.

“Here, I’ll even get you started.”

Approaching the hostess station, Claire cleared her throat. “We’d like a table please.”

“How many?”

she asked without looking up.

“Two,”

Claire answered as the girl dragged her finger down a list of names on the sheet in front of her before stopping at a blank space. “Name?”

With a sweep of her arm, Claire invited Hugh to take over, whispering “Impress me”

as he passed.

With a grin, Hugh leaned against the podium and drawled in a seductively deep brogue, “I’m called Hugh Urquhart, lass. What is yer name?”

The hostess’s head shot up so quickly that Claire was certain the girl would feel the strain of it later. She was a pretty, petite girl of about twenty, but in that moment she might have been a pre-teen with her favorite teen idol in her sights, and what happened next so astonished Claire that later she would be certain she had imagined it all. The beleaguered hostess straightened, a blush spreading across her pale cheeks as she stammered out, “I’m J-Jessica.”

“Jessica, lass, might I beg ye for a table?”

“Oh, sure,”

she sighed and tore her eyes away to look at the list before looking up at him once again. “I just love your accent. Are you Scottish?”

Hugh leaned in and smiled an amazing, roguish grin that Claire had never seen him display, and the hostess all but melted on the spot. “Aye, lass, I am. A verra hungry Scot aboot tae waste away tae skin and bone.”

“Oh! We can’t have that, can we?”

Jessica gushed with a flirtatious smile of her own.

“God, no,”

Claire drawled under her breath. “We can’t have that.”

Hugh shot Claire a wicked glance and a wink before he turned back to the hostess with a flash of white teeth and a definite smolder in his eye. “Can ye secure us a table, lass? If it wouldnae be too much of a bother?”

“Oh, no bother at all,”

Jessica replied without hesitation as she shuffled out a pair of menus. “Will you follow me?”

“Anywhere ye lead, lass,”

Hugh said with a gallant sweep of his arm, indicating that the hostess should lead the way. She did. As she led them around the main floor and up the stairs, Jessica flirted with Hugh over her shoulder, asking questions that required answers, which Hugh gave in thick teasing tones, exaggerating his brogue.

“I just love your accent,”

the girl cooed again as they arrived at a prime table near the windows.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”

“Will this do?”

Jessica asked.

“Verra nice. Thank ye, Jessica,”

Hugh said, shifting to walk around the hostess just as the girl turned. The pair collided and Hugh reached out to steady her.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Nae at all,”

Hugh said smoothly. “Mea culpa.”

Jessica giggled uncertainly and Claire translated drily. “That’s kind of like ‘my bad.’”

“Oh!”

the hostess said brightly, setting the menus on the table while Hugh held out Claire’s chair and moved around the table to the other side to sit. “Well, anyway, here’s your menus”—Claire was inwardly surprised that the girl remembered that there were two people present, since she’d hadn’t torn her gaze away from Hugh the entire time—“and Becky will be your server. She should be right with you.”

“Yes, I’m sure she will,”

Claire said under her breath once again, gaining another devilish grin from Hugh. A split second later, her eyes were rolling once again as Hugh took the girl’s hand and kissed it gallantly. “My thanks, Jessica, for yer kind assistance.”

The hostess giggled with another blush. “Just let me know if I can get you anything else.”

Claire could almost see the hostess’s knees wobble as she walked unsteadily away. “Well, you proved me wrong, didn’t you? You really can do whatever you like. And your powers of flirtation are truly unparalleled. Are you always such a charmer with the ladies?”

The grin turned from roguish to amused, his eyes lighting with real humor. “It is a skill required at court, and if it gets me what I want, why shouldn’t I employ my many gifts where they benefit me the most?”

“Those gifts being good looks and charm?”

“’Tis my curse.”

“My, you are cocky.”

“But another burden tae bear.”

Claire had to laugh out loud at that and rolled her eyes yet again as the waitress eagerly approached, bearing a wooden cutting board with a loaf of bread on it. “Hi, I’m Becky. I’ll be your server this afternoon. Can I get you something to drink?”

The waitress was of similar age to the hostess, Jessica, and like her co-worker, directed all of this to Hugh with an alluring smile and even batting eyelashes. It was so incredibly amusing—and insulting to her gender—that Claire was tempted to wave a hand in front of the girl’s eyes to force her attention away.

“I’ll have a pint of Sam’s,”

Claire said loudly in an attempt to draw her attention. “And he’ll have the darkest, thickest, nastiest thing you have on tap. The liter.”

“We have a Black Butte Porter,”

the waitress suggested, eagerly. “Looks like mud.”

“Perfect,”

Claire said, expecting the waitress to wander off, but Becky lingered, gazing at Hugh with adoration. With a long-suffering sigh, Claire motioned for her to leave. “Incredible,”

she said to Hugh as she buttered a piece of the bread. “I would bet that she’s back with those drinks in record time.”

“Jealous?”

“Hardly,”

Claire denied quickly. “If your ‘many gifts’ benefit me as well, employ away.”

Hugh drew in his breath to respond, but as Claire had predicted, Becky was back with the beers and a smile in a matter of moments. The flirting ensued, as the waitress bent farther over the table than was necessary to put Hugh’s huge mug of porter down in front of him. Naturally Huge flashed his dimples, spoke husky compliments, and generally made the girl feel as if she were the most amazing person on the face of the planet.

It was a gift, Claire decided as she watched the show. She’d never seen anyone who could so easily make everyone like him as Hugh did. Well, the fairer sex, anyway … and men like his hairstylist. How would normal, heterosexual men respond to Hugh, she wondered? Would they be like some women who grew nasty in the company of women prettier than they were, or would they fall as quickly under his spell?

No, they would love him, too, she decided. Hugh was a ladies’ man but he was also a man’s man. He’d probably never met a stranger in his life and was the epitome of jovial grace.

Claire studied him as he spoke to the waitress. His big body lounged back in the wooden chair, his arm hooked over the back, drawing his sweater tight to show off his muscular physique and washboard abs. The blue knit brought his eyes out vividly, framed by his dark lashes. His dazzling smile flashed again as he ran a hand through his hair, and Claire thought Becky might pool right there at his feet.

And she wasn’t the only one. Hugh simply being Hugh was like a magnet to the room at large. Most of the diners and staff were watching him, either covertly or openly. Did it come naturally to him or was it ingrained as part of his ducal training? Could that kind of charisma be taught?

If it could, Hugh had a great teacher, because he was fascinating.

Even to her. How could she deny it when there was so very much to like about him that none of these people could see? What was it about her that drew him, she wondered?

Becky paused to take a breath and Claire leapt at the opportunity to place their order, asking for “The Pacific Clambake”

from the Seafeast menu. This item was ordered by the person, so Claire requested a bucket for three, then changed it to four, knowing Hugh’s appetite was often insatiable.

Lifting her mug to her lips, Claire considered Hugh over the top as the waitress finally left them once more. Hugh drank as well, smacking his lips in appreciation as he downed half the liter in one swallow. “Fairly satisfying.”

“High praise,”

Claire said as they shared a grin. “Maybe you should forgo becoming a professional golfer and open a brewery in your new life.”

She was biting her lip before the last word was complete, regretting the reference to that mysterious something that awaited him in the months and years to come. Claire could only imagine how the uncertainty of the unknown rubbed him raw and was sorry to have brought up the painful subject again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Ye needn’t watch yer tongue wi’ me, lass,”

Hugh said softly, but there was a new, firm resolve in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “’Tis nothing I hae nae already considered. I hae determined that I need tae accept my fate such as it is wi’out mourning for the past. For now, my goal is tae secure my freedom and yer safety. When those things are assured, I will consider how tae best pass the remainder of my years.”

All of that without a trace of self-pity. Hugh could certainly teach Claire a thing or two about how to move forward from tragedy.

Stretching across the table, she covered his hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. Hugh turned his over and clasped her hand in his, tracing his thumb over the back of her hand. “You are an amazing man, Hugh,”

she said sincerely, but Hugh just shrugged off the compliment.

“Nothing I hae done as yet would make my ancestors proud,”

he said. “I intend tae remedy that. But until I do, I am going tae apply myself tae yer uncle’s library and try tae find out everything that has happened in the world between my time and yers.”

“That could take awhile.”

“Dinnae worry, lass,”

he said with a wink. “I am equally resolved tae begin enjoying life here as well and I will certainly enjoy the chance to engage in an innocent flirtation wi’ ye.”

His thumb slipped between her fingers and slid across the center of her palm. The calloused pad chafed lightly, leaving a tingling warmth trailing behind the caress, and Claire repressed a shiver, pulling her hand away.

“I think your definition of ‘innocent’ and mine might be vastly different.”

“Indeed? Innocent words can describe yer beauty. Like how I wonder if yer skin is as soft and silky as it looks and how I long tae touch ye, how I love tae see yer blush creeping up yer cheeks and I wonder at the thoughts that prompt yer pulse tae quiver just here.”

As if having the full force of Hugh’s husky brogue turned on her hadn’t been enough, he traced a line down the side of her neck, sending that pulse skyrocketing and Claire’s head spinning. “Ahh, ’tis as soft as I imagined,”

he whispered, his eyes dark with desire.

Claire fell back in her chair and grasped the handle of her beer mug once more, eager to cool the fire that was building inside of her. “God, you’re good. I’d hate to see what you can do when you have a vested interest.”

“Who says I dinnae?”

Hugh asked, and Claire’s gaze clashed with his, wondering at his words and what she read in his eyes.

It was the same look he had given her on the street. It wasn’t playful flirtation there but compelling seduction that enticed her to cast her caution and fears aside. Their attraction was a mutual one, she knew that, but she had thought it to be a casual one, at least from Hugh’s perspective. Just a this-leads-to-that sort of thing that he had downplayed as anything more powerful with his invitation for light flirtation. But unless she truly was verging on nunhood, that wasn’t simply wanton desire she saw in his eyes. It was hunger. The kind that demanded total, soul-baring surrender.

It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time, and Claire was once again aboard her proverbial ship at sea, tossing and tipping. A part of her wanted to ride out the storm, while the other part demanded that she abandon ship immediately.

An image flashed through her mind from an old movie she had seen once where the people aboard a ship lashed themselves to the masts during a storm to avoid being swept overboard, and Claire mentally did the same. In laying out the terms of their flirtation, she had committed to taking a leap into the unknown, not the leap overboard. She needed this challenge if for no other reason than to force a change in her life, and she was going to brave it even if she had to mentally tie herself down for it.