"Aye, I thought the same," Hugh agreed with a grunt. "Perhaps me uncle had a weddin' lined up and this Anna woman wasnae informed of his passin'."
"It's been a year since he died. Everyone who needed to be informed has been," Marcus, Hugh's brother, said from the doorway. "What are the two of ye pourin' over?"
"A letter," Hugh said gruffly. "One that's likely for the previous Laird McDonald because it cannae be for me."
Marcus leaned over their mother's shoulder. A wicked smile spread on his face, one that always preceded teasing. "Nay, I think it's for ye, Hugh. Ye got a wee English lass waitin' for yer hand."
"Nay, Marcus," their mother sighed, trying to shield the letter with her body. "This missive isnae for Hugh."
"Ach, but she's lookin' forward to bein' Lady McDonald, see?" He pointed to a line on the page, his arm wrapping around their mother's body. "I daenae think she minds who the Laird is."
"Marcus, this is nae a laughin' matter," Hugh said with a snarl. "I need to consult with Callum. It wouldnae be the first time the council hasnae informed me of somethin'. Though this seems a damn important thing to forget to mention."
Marcus laughed harder, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. "Ach, Arianna's goin' to be cross she missed this. I doubt they have such entertainment at the nunnery."
Hugh shared a look with his mother, long-suffering and fond. Marcus's jokes, while annoying, had their own kind of charm. And he was certainly right about Hugh's sister being upset at missing this mystery. They shook their heads, a silent communication. Then, they turned back to the letter.
"Have ye seen Callum recently?" Hugh asked, standing. "I should consult with him about this. Get it put to rest."
Before he was able to get an answer or leave the room, Callum, one of his inherited advisors, entered. He glanced between the three of them, then at the parchment in their mother's hands.
"I was passin' by and heard me name," he said, his eyes narrowing. "What is it ye need to consult me on?"
"That," Hugh said, nodding at what his mother was holding.
"May I see that, me Lady?" Callum asked, treating their mother with more respect than he had treated Hugh. "Thank ye."
As he read, Hugh said, "Was there a marriage arrangement I was nae told about? This Anna… She seems quite sure of our betrothal."
"I cannae tell ye why," Callum said, rubbing his chin. "There isnae an engagement planned. Though ye will need to be wed soon. Ye'll need an heir. It's a priority for yer council."
Hugh ignored that, his immediate focus on the castle and village he oversaw rather than procreation. "Perhaps this is an old lover of me uncle. Did he have any ladies he'd entertain? Someone ye may ken?"
"Nay," Callum said dismissively, flicking the letter back at him. "There is nae an engagement, and there is nae a lover. This message is a mistake or a girl playin' pretend. Disregard it."
"She must have a fairly active imagination, then," Marcus said. "Ye daenae want to look into this? Find out who she is? Ye must be a wee bit curious."
"I have instructed ye nae to worry about this," Callum said sharply. "And ye shouldnae speak in matters as such. Ye are nae the Laird. Ye are nae part of his council."
Marcus's face reddened. For a moment, Hugh was sure he was going to snap. But then, in a mature display of control, he turned and stormed from the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
"Ach dear," Eleanor said before hurrying out after him.
"It would do ye well to watch yer tone around me brother," Hugh said, stepping forward so he was chest to chest with Callum. "He may nae be a part of me council officially, but I hold his opinion in high regard."
Callum didn't back down, holding his chin high as if to convey that he wouldn't be frightened. It wasn't a slight against Hugh, not openly. He accepted Hugh's authority, though he would not allow the council's opinions to be discarded.
"This matter is already resolved, me Laird. I gave ye both the information ye needed. There is nae a woman who was involved with the previous Laird. Whoever this Anna is, she is nae yer betrothed and has nay reason to believe she is." He straightened, dusting off his waistcoat. "She is makin' up stories or a man has lied to her about his identity. Regardless, this is nae somethin' that ye need to concern yerself with."
The Laird's face hardened. If Callum was telling the truth about his uncle having no old lovers, then his assertion waslogical. Something about the situation settled wrong in his chest, though.
"And what if she suddenly shows up at the castle?" Hugh asked, crossing his arms. "If she does so, me image will be ruined. Ye and the rest of me council have made it quite clear that maintainin' me image is a vital part of Lairdship."
"If she were to arrive here, we would send her away," Callum replied. "Or we could put her in the dungeons. It wouldnae reflect poorly on ye that a crazed woman has arrived. What would reflect poorly is failin' to handle the situation if it were to arise."
With a derisive sniff, Hugh looked back at the letter, at the symbol on the bottom. This woman was not some commoner. Her family owned land. Clan McDonald desperately needed the money, lest the castle fall into disrepair. Already, there were massive repairs that needed attention.
"Ye saw this," Hugh said, pointing to the symbol. "She'll have a dowry, likely somethin' substantial."
