"I will require quarters," Hugh said, dismissing the second part of the statement. "I cannae have these conversations in me road clothes. And I will require a place for me horse."
"You… I… You will not!"
"Is this the lady's room?" Hugh continued, ignoring his spluttering.
Lord Windham, miffed at being ignored, said, "Yes, this is the one."
He opened the door and stepped aside to allow Hugh entry. As he approached the plush mattress, he felt Anna stirring in his arms. Carefully, though perhaps not as gently as an Englishwoman would have liked, he lowered her onto the quilt.
As soon as her eyes opened, she screamed, attempting to scramble away. Hugh stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. That seemed to be enough to quiet her, though she still pushed herself back, as far away from him as she could without falling from the mattress.
"That's enough, lass," Hugh said, working to soften the sharp edges of his voice. "I willnae harm ye. But I need ye to tell me what this letter is about."
Anna blinked several times, her fingers tightening in the sheets below her. Then, she cleared her throat, looking away as she said, "I will tell you the truth. But I need time to compose myself. Once I have rested… I will tell you everything."
Hugh widened his stance, looking down at her. There was nothing about her expression that indicated that she was lying.The poor thing was exhausted, wearing her emotions on her soft, delicate features. Fear was prominent, as were her regret and resignation.
"Aye," Hugh said after a few moments, realizing that pushing would get him nowhere but thrown out of the manor. "Ye look as if ye need a wee rest. We will speak when ye wake."
"You may come back tomorrow," Lord Windham said, putting a hand on Hugh's shoulder. "Leave her to her rest."
I'm nae gettin' back in this place if I leave. I ken this man willnae open the door for me again. And I'm nae leavin' until I get answers, nor am I leavin' without me bride and her dowry.
"I'm nae goin' anywhere until we get this matter sorted," he said as he shrugged the Englishman's hand away. "Now, if ye'd show me to me chambers for the evenin'."
The letter was never supposed to reach Laird McDonald. He was supposed to be dead. Though perhaps Anna shouldn't have sent the missive at all. She doubted that Charlotte truly would have gone poking around the postmaster's office.
But I doubted that Laird McDonald would have shown up on my doorstep, and he did. I shouldn't have ever executed this plan. There were too many variables out of my control.
"It is too late for that now," Anna said to herself as she climbed out of bed. "What's done is done. I must clean up my mess. Then, I'll be able to carry on with my life."
He'd said he'd come for his bride, though. Would she truly be able to go back to the existence she'd known before the letter? Something in her soul told her that this man wouldn't take no for an answer. If he truly came because he wanted to claim her as his wife, he wouldn't leave until he did so.
What will happen if I marry him? I would have to leave my home and new friends. When would I next see my father?
She didn't know what her life would be like if she were no longer here. Even though she'd dreamed of her future so many times, it never involved leaving England. And now, she wasn't sure what this man wanted from her, which made the situation even more worrying.
Shaking the thought that didn't feel entirely unwelcome from her mind, Anna left her chambers. The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden glow around her home. It felt deceptively comfortable, as though she were responding to a social call rather than going to confess her sins.
It didn't take Anna long to find Laird McDonald and her father. The two were sitting in the drawing room, the silence thick enough that she felt as though it were a physical presence between them. Slowly, she stepped into the room.
"I am ready to tell you why you received this letter," she said, pulling the men's attention away from the stare-down that was happening.
With both their eyes locked on her, Anna was overcome with shame so heavy that she thought her legs might collapse. She realized now, now that she was moments away from doing it, that she was about to tell Laird McDonald that she'd used him as a way to make friends. This complete stranger would know how inept she truly was in social situations.
"Papa, would you please give us a bit of privacy?" she murmured, not wanting him to hear this embarrassing story for a second time.
"I will not leave you alone with him," he said, making no move to get up. "It is highly improper."
"I willnae hurt the lass," Hugh said, his face unreadable. "Ye daenae need worry about her. I may nae look it, but I'm nae a beast."
"Please, Papa," she said softly, wishing her voice wouldn't shake. "I'm only going to tell him what I told you. I will be all right alone."
Her father narrowed his eyes, staying precisely where he was seated. His gaze bounced between the two of them, lingering on the Laird. In a measured tone, he said, "You know that I cannot allow that, Anna. Your virtue is called into question. If it's only what I've already heard, then you don't have to worry."
"I understand," Anna said, struggling to keep her gaze on his. "I shouldn't have asked you to leave."
Her father gave her a nod of acknowledgement that put an end to his involvement. Anna had no choice but to turn her attention to Hugh. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, the Laird watching her with that indecipherable look settled upon his features.
