He took the paper in hand, stared at her marked name, and then found his uncle's disbelieving eye. He nodded, and Laird Hunter's face broke into a triumphant smile.
"Well, that settles that then!" the laird announced with a heavy smack of his hands.
Lachlan was still looking at the paper in his hands. But a smile was beginning to curl across his face.
"I think you will be a fine laird, Lord Lachlan," she assured him with eagerness. "I cannot imagine someone more educated and kind to lead my father's people."
Lachlan laughed.
"Oh, whether or not I'm the finest man for the position is a moot point surely, my dear."
Belle frowned in confusion. Lachlan's words were friendly, but his tone was anything but. There was a curling disgust to his voice that put Sir Gregory's snide remarks to shame.
A dark suspicion started to unfurl in Belle's stomach and, before her very eyes, Lachlan only made it grow.
"I only need to be a more successful candidate for a village girl so supremely out of her depth that she flounders like a fish on the end of a hook."
Finally straightening and looking her in the eye, Belle was floored by the alteration in Lachlan's demeanor.
Where his eyes had been tender, they now glowed with a sharp kind of spite. Where his smile had been sweet, it now curled in a sickly arrogance across his face. He was still pretty and painfully handsome. But now, the smoothness of his features seemed snakelike. The paleness of his skin was ghostly. And the greed in his eyes was exposed for all to see.
"Wh-What?" She glanced between the two men as warning bells rang through her mind.
She tried to take a step back, but Lachlan was too quick. He snatched up her wrist in a grip of iron that made her gasp.
"Please, that hurts!"
"How dare you bestow your oh-so-sincere blessing upon me, Arabelle Fisher. You think your judgment to mean more to me than that of a monkey's? I require not your benevolence, support, nor opinion. I needed only your signature." He held up the agreement before tossing it toward his uncle. "And I have that now."
Belle struggled to free her hand, but Lachlan's fingers only tightened to a level of bruising.
"I...I don't understand."
"Of course not," Laird Hunter announced from the other side of the room. His voice was booming and bold. It spoke to her as a mountain bear might address a mouse. "I would not expect you to be capable of understanding the intricacies of provincial politics, but allow me to explain, my lady. At your arrival on this estate, we were contacted by the true Lady Henderson, a woman of fine breeding and origin who would not see her late husband's lands fall into the hands of a herder's daughter."
"She contacted us," Lachlan sneered. "She is my uncle's second cousin."
"You...you said Sir Gregory had been sending you letters!" Belle fought for her freedom, but her struggles were pointless. The man was not letting go until he had had his moment to shine. Until the two of them had celebrated the victory of their genius over her simpleton ways.
"Oh, he had been. Along with every other eligible nobleman in the area. But after his first missive arrived to us, we were careful to ensure that his other communications went astray. We could not have it look as if your hand were a commodity of desire. For a moment, though, we thought all the effort would go to waste and that old Laird Henderson would die before authorizing the marriage. Without his permission, we were near stuck unless you signed the lands away yourself." Laird Hunter snorted and turned to his nephew with a superior eye. "I told you the counselor was the way in, boy."
For a moment, Belle stopped struggling.
"Counselor?" They could not mean— "Henry?"
"Aye, Sir Munro..." he said. "The counselor who kisses a betrothed woman, the man who risks his own career for a woman like you. He was so afraid of losing his career, this is why he chose to persuade you to sign the papers."
I am planning exactly how I shall make Murdock Hunter eat this agreement before I see you sign it...
Those had been Henry's words. Even with all that the Hunters had threatened him with, he had not wanted her to sign it.
"I'll not marry you!" Belle cried. "That agreement is only to transfer my rights as my father's heir once we are married, is it not?"
When both men only continued to smile, Belle felt a sickness deep in her gut.
"Actually, it states that all of your heir rights are transferred to your spouse. And, in the event of your death, a formal engagement is accepted where the recipient is not married."
Belle could only stare.
