"Not when you are due to meet your betrothed."
Belle opened her mouth to correct the man that no such agreement had yet been made. That it was, in fact, utterly ridiculous that such an agreement would be made so very quickly! But, she didn't have the chance. The arrival of Lachlan had her snapping her mouth shut and attempting a smile.
"Lady Arabelle, how well you look upon your ride. Are you well acquainted with hunting?"
Carefully, Belle recalled the lines she had practiced with Coira the night before.
"I am afraid to admit that I am not. I suspect you will think me quite foolish by the end of today."
As seemed his natural state, Lachlan could not help but smile. He appeared naturally considerate and friendly. Open and honest.
"I am sure I shall not," he told her. "You will be safe with us, my lady. This is a casual hunt to say the least and, I suspect, will barely see the horses sweat. Come, I shall introduce you once more to my uncle and then to several of our personal guards that will be accompanying us."
The introductions took only a while but, to Belle, it felt like a day.
Each gentleman required a different greeting depending upon their rank or name. Each person deserved a remark of uniqueness. She kept her posture straight, her eyes forward, and her chin tucked. Her hands were still upon the reins, and her feet were held steady in the stirrups. She remembered to lean up else she could not breathe, and she drew from the depths of her mind every polite turn of phrase she could think of.
By the end of it, everyone was smiling and meeting her eye with polite interest, and Belle was left entirely drained, hoping she had not disgraced Henry's tutorship.
"Come! Let us away!" called Laird Hunter, before turning his horse out toward the woods.
As Sir Gregory had promised, the other animals followed in the laird's wake. The mare beneath Belle darted after them, and Lachlan kept his mount at the same pace, riding beside her over the meadows and toward the treeline.
At first, Belle was nervous, holding on to the reins until her fingers turned white. Pink splotches appeared over the backs of her hands, and the tips of her fingers were stained crimson. As they slowed to walk amongst the trees, however, Lachlan leaned over to speak with her and offered a much-needed distraction.
Together, they navigated their way around the trees.
Several members of the convoy kept an eye out for darting wildlife but others talked between themselves. It quickly became clear that the hunt was merely an excuse for an outdoor social excursion. With nearly two dozen mounted soldiers, they made enough noise to scare off the deafest of prey.
Given her yet-to-be-tested ability to stay on the back of a horse while it rode at full gallop, Belle could only count herself thankful for the lack of true hunting ambition.
Instead, she was able to give her attention to the man she was supposed to marry.
Lachlan Hunter was a dashing young man with an easy, pleasant chatter and a sparkling eye. He was, no doubt, the love of many a young maiden's heart but he seemed modest enough to gloss over such stories. In their place were tales of past hunts he had attended, the difficulties he was having with a litter of puppies his hound had just birthed, and his woes over Latin study.
Sir Gregory had told Belle the day before that the Hunters were aware of her illegitimate status and had been vaguely informed of her commoner origins, but she had also been resolutely warned not to advertise such an upbringing.
She was, under all circumstances, expected to handle herself as a lady of breeding. To fly her commoner flag, the aide had said, before a family willing to consider a match, would be considered a great offense. This silenced Belle on more than one topic as they rode through the trees.
Luckily, Lachlan seemed willing to fill the silence, unconcerned when she could not contribute in equal measure.
Time went by in more or less pleasant diversion until the horses came to an uneasy halt.
Belle felt her mare shift uneasily, and she swallowed her own nerves down.
"What's happening?" she asked.
"I do not know," Lachlan admitted, rising to his feet in his stirrups. He scanned the woods ahead, then behind, before calling to his guardian.
"Uncle! What has us at a standstill?"
Before Laird Hunter could answer, several of the animals started to dance in anxiety. One bounced upon its front legs, a half buck against his rider. Several started to whinny.
"They've got a scent!" someone called.
"And not a good one!" another cried.
Belle's heart started to race as her horse darted out of the way of another. Brambles and branches cracked underfoot. Several animals had to be redirected as they attempted to bolt.
