"Oh..." Belle looked at the man with the feathers in his hat. His cheeks were ruddy with annoyance, and he now looked at her with accusation. As if it wereherfault that she was not aware of their identities. "That...is nice."
The man called Lachlan smiled brightly. Absently, Belle realized he still had hold of her hand.
"I fear we are due to shock you further, my lady, when I admit that this acquaintance was intended to be something more than a rekindling of friendship."
Not sure what he meant, Belle looked about the room. Sir Gregory and Laird Hunter were watching her, but Henry would not meet her eye. He stood behind one of the chairs, his hands upon its back and his head bent low. He stared at the threadwork on its cushioning. His knuckles were white for holding on so tight.
"I..." Without Henry to translate, Belle felt lost. "I din—er... I do not understand."
Lachlan cleared his throat. His thumb passed over the back of her hand and sent shivers up her arm.
"It is the wish of my uncle and your father that the two of us"—he dipped his head as if the two of them were somehow in cahoots—"are to be wedded."
"Wedded?"
Lachlan smiled again, bemused.
"Married," he said.
Realizing just what he was saying, Belle snatched her hand out of his. She held it to her chest as if she'd been scolded. Her stare flew to the only man in the room who would surely know that this was lunacy.
The man who had promised to be her anchor.
Henry continued to do nothing but stare at the back of the chair he held on to. He was a statue of rigid lines.
"I..."
There was a flash of hurt over Lachlan's face, and Belle instantly felt contrite. She hadn't meant to reject him so succinctly. Nor had she meant to insult a guest of her ailing father.
You are the voice of the Henderson family whilst your father is bedridden...
The words that Henry had spoken only the other day chastised her.
You will be the voice of the Henderson family alone once your father has passed. If you wish to be a woman of this family, you must treat the family name as equal to your own feelings, if not of more importance.
More importance...
Swallowing, Belle naturally fell upon the voice she trusted most, relying on Henry's guidance even as he gave her none in person.
"I...I do not yet know what to say on the matter. But I understand that this is the desire of the Henderson house," she said, muddling through her choice of words.
Goodness, but she hoped she was saying the right thing.
Her hope was assured when Lachlan's smile returned to his face.
His uncle seemed less pleased.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he barked.
"Uncle!" Lachlan defended. "We cannot expect a resounding decision from the lady in the same moment she has learned of the plans." Turning back to Belle, Lachlan's tone turned suggestive, encouraging. "Perhaps I can instead persuade you, my lady, to a different acceptance?"
Belle blinked.A different...?
But she felt little anxiety when Lachlan continued to smile. There was a teasing, almost friendly look to his eye.
"I ask that you ride with me. Perhaps join us in a hunt? Tomorrow. When you are more acquainted with our presence and the reasons for it."
"Lady Henderson cannot leave the grounds." Henry was suddenly verbal once more. He stared at the both of them with a look so icy, it took Belle aback.
