Broad across the brow and wide in the jaw, Henry's features tapered down into a pointed chin. His nose was large enough to fit his face and straight enough to turn it pretty. His cheeks were hollowed and might have appeared sickly if not for the healthy tan of his skin. The bright, forest green of his eyes was obvious as his stare widened on her approach.
The expression upon his face was a first. Blind shock.
As Belle watched, his jaw dropped, his lips peeling softly apart. His sweeping brows came together, and when he snapped his mouth shut, a tick began to flicker beside his ear.
Belle looked over her shoulder.
Just what was the man staring at?
9
What, in the name of the Lord, am I looking at?
The question ran through Henry's mind unchecked.
For, he was sure, he couldn't be looking at the same child he had seen that morning.
Gowned like a lady, in a dress of wine red and pearl lace, Belle appeared to have grown! She was at least several inches taller, and her shoulders had been brought back to reveal a delicate collarbone and swan-like neck. Her arms, once the limbs of a tiny and emaciated child, were now that of a dainty young lady. Her face, now clean of mud and tears, glowed after Coira's attention, and her hair...
When Henry had first met the girl, she had appeared almost feral. Her hair had been yanked into something that might have once been a braid and, when freed of its constraints, had ruled her head and shoulders like a lion's mane. Frizzy and untamed.
Now, combed through and twisted into order, the locks had been pulled into a braided crown about her head and then fell in a tumble of clear and beautiful curls over one shoulder. No longer a mangled mix of yellows and browns, it shone in tones of gold and copper.
The girl looked back over her shoulder.
Summoning the return of his sanity, Henry cleared his throat.
"Lady Henderson..."Lady Henderson,he repeated to himself.Not Arabelle. Not Belle. He knew better than to erode the formality in their relationship. "...thank you for joining me. Are you ready for your first lesson?"
"Yeah."
"Yes," Henry corrected.
"Wuh?"
"It is always 'yes' and not 'yeah.' And if you do not hear someone or do not understand something, you should use 'pardon me' with either 'my lady' or 'my laird' if necessary."
"Not 'wuh'?" she asked, drawing a little closer.
"Not 'wuh.'" Henry blinked as the girl giggled. "What is it?"
"Ye said 'wuh.'" Her eyes sparkled, and her finger pointed with indignant accusation.
"You say 'wuh' all the time."
"Yeah—yes—but it sounds funny whenyesay it."
Turning back to the desk, Henry was shocked when he caught sight of himself in the mirror by the window. Was he truly rolling his eyes? And there was that half-smile again!
Only a few moments in Belle's—inLady Henderson's!—company, and he was already amused. He was never amused. His greatest failing, according to Laird Anderson, was that he always appeared so severe. Unwelcoming. Now, he couldn't seem to keep his features under control even when he tried.
Clearing his throat, Henry tried to focus on the job at hand.
"I thought we might use today to assess any education you have already—"
"Ah!" The cry was bolshy, loud, and completely unfettered.
And it had Henry jumping out of his skin!
