"But not a wound to my mind, ah assure ye," she snapped back. Swallowing, Belle dismissed Henry with a wave of her hand. "Ah'll not hear more on the subject. Ah am marrying Lachlan Hunter, and that is the end of it."
With her words came a resounding gong somewhere in her heart.
Belle had no idea if the noise was the organ changing and committing itself to her new husband.
Or if it were merely the muffled sound of her heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
14
"Munro!"
Laird Hunter's deliberate refrainment from using Henry's title was starting to grate on his nerves. Everything, in fact, of the last few days had been a raw irritation from which he couldn't escape.Everything.
"My laird?" Biting back his annoyance, Henry adopted an expression of peaceful inquiry as the laird was forced to jog a few steps to catch up to him in the corridor.
"When will Laird Henderson be free to receive guests? I have searched for Sir Gregory to ask the same but cannot find him."
"Sir Gregory has gone to town to speak with a physician upon that very topic," Henry replied. For all the dislike he held for the sharp and disagreeable man, the aide was dedicated to his laird like no other. At least in that, Henry could find something to respect. "But I doubt the laird will be well enough to be receiving any time soon."
Or, in fact,ever.
The laird had not been conscious since the previous day, and Lady Henderson was already speaking of fetching a priest to see to his last rites. While the rest of the household had become infected with the somber reality of their future loss, Laird Murdock Hunter appeared more concerned with other matters, such as seeking an audience.
"I understand that Laird Henderson is sick, Munro, but you must also understand my nephew's position. It has been three days since your charge accepted his hand in marriage. Should her father die without formally acknowledging the betrothal with signed permission, all of our plans become exceptionally difficult. There is no guardian under whom Lady Arabelle would fall."
The idea that Belle would be left without a sponsor or supporter bit at something in Henry's gut. He clenched his teeth to stop himself from snapping at the man.
There was no possible future in which he would allow Belle to be left alone to defend her own interests. None.
"I sympathize with your position, my laird, but I think it wise that you are perhaps quieter with such concerns. We would not wish for the lady of the house to think you insensitive to the laird's fatality, would we?"
The laird's face turned an unattractive shade of puce that clashed horribly with the red velvet of his tunic. The man physically shook with insult to the point where his kilt swayed and trembled.
"How dare you suggest such a thing, sir! I hold Laird Henderson in great esteem!"
"Then perhaps you should address yourself to his counselor instead of attempting to invade his sickbed?"
Henry watched as Laird Hunter's jaw clicked from side to side in frustration. While his frame was large, the man seemed to have avoided the middle-aged habit of gaining weight. He was bulky but strong in all areas but his face. There, the evidence of his years had collected into round cheeks and beady eyes. Both were far too eager to reflect his inner thoughts.
"Fine," he determined stubbornly. "I will address myself directly to Lady Arabelle."
Henry's eyes flashed, and he braced his feet.
"You should speak with Sir Gregory," he corrected.
"But, as you so helpfully explained, Sir Gregory is away from the castle. And, should Laird Henderson be as deathly ill as you are surmising, without a guardian, Lady Arabelle becomes the holder of her own rights. Her signature should do just as well as her father's after his passing."
The laird was already turning away to the main staircase in the direction of Belle's rooms. Henry had to dart forward to bar the man's path.
"I can take it," he offered. "I am counselor to the lady directly and would be more than happy to read over anything you wish for her to see."
He could not allow this man to storm into Belle's rooms, paperwork in hand and his intentions predetermined. Belle would not be able to read a complex document of betrothal and might feel flustered to sign before she could truly understand why.
Ye do not think, Sir Munro... At least not for me...
Belle's words rang in his head, but Henry pushed them to one side. He knew that he was overstepping his bounds. He knew that his duties lay only in Belle's tutorship, not her life. But his feet would not move, and his brow would not unfurl. He remained in place, scowling with all moveability of the Colossus of Rhodes.
A fact that Murdock Hunter was forced to accept.
