Page 50 of A Hellion for the Highland Hawk
“Why did ye have to go for a midnight swim, eh? Madwoman,” he mumbled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
A knock at the study door wiped the amusement from his face. He sat up straighter in his chair and set his whiskey down, wondering which member of the Council had come to tell him this was a terrible idea or, indeed, the perfect solution to the problem of his mixed popularity. After all, everyone loved a celebration, especially after so many years of war.
“Come in,” he said gruffly.
It wasn’t a councilman who entered, but Beathan. And after the man’s ‘timely’ intrusion at Nancy’s bedchamber a couple of hours ago, Hunter didn’t know whether to be annoyed with him or grateful.
“Am I interruptin’?” Beathan asked, with a slight frown at the whiskey on the table beside Hunter.
“Nae any more than anyone else this morning,” Hunter replied.
Beathan nodded and stepped further into the room. “I just came to let ye ken that the scouts are back from the borders and fresh ones have been sent.”
In the midst of all the chaos, Hunter had almost forgotten about the attack on his men.
A sharp pinch of guilt nipped him between the ribs, for this was exactly why he couldn’t allow himself to get too close to Nancy. He was already neglecting what was important, and the more she invaded his mind with thoughts of what he wanted but couldn’t have, the worse it would get.
“Is all well?” he asked, somewhat grateful for the distraction.
Beathan looked toward the window. “It seems to be, me Laird. There have been enemy sentries spotted on the other side of the valley, but behind the agreed line. Nay one has tried to cross.”
“Thank ye, Cousin.” Hunter relaxed a little, only to sit up straighter a second later. “But why is Jack nae the one tellin’ me this?”
Reluctance flickered across Beathan’s face, his mouth twisting like he wasn’t sure if he should say. “It’s Elsie, me Laird. She dragged him away from his post, so they could tell everyone yer happy news and, I assume, to begin preparations.” He paused with a smile. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Preparations?” Hunter bristled. “Preparations for what?”
Had he not warned Elsie to stay quiet until hehad decided how to proceed? Perhaps she thought that no longer applied, now that the council was aware of the betrothal.
“Ye ken me sister, me Laird,” Beathan replied with an apologetic look. “From what I managed to glean, she has notions ofarranging a feast to celebrate the engagement. Would ye like me to tell her to cease? If I wait until she has eaten and had her noonday nap, she might nae scream or crumble to pieces.”
Hunter raked a restless hand through his hair, certain that even an entire barrel of whiskey wouldn’t be enough to temper this.
He shook his head. “I’ll contend with me cousin.” He puffed out a breath. “Ye can go.”
“Very good, me Laird.”
With a quick bow of his head, Beathan left Hunter to the growing pile of stress that he now had to navigate, all because he’d taken a walk last night to clear his head. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
Snatching the cup of whiskey, allowing himself a moment’s reprieve before he had to nip this engagement celebration thing in the bud, he sat back in his chair and heaved out a sigh.
That lass… What have ye done to me fragile peace, eh?
Of course, he knew the betrothal was just pretend, but as he brought the cup to his lips and sipped, he couldn’t help but think of the way Nancy had moaned his name last night, how readily she’d invited him to touch her, to taste her, to kiss her. And that, he feared, was going to be more dangerous for him than any ambush on the borders.
Nancy guessed she should’ve known that she wouldn’t be alone with Freya for very long on such an auspicious day, with terrifying talk of engagements and betrothals drifting through the castle. Gossip spread surprisingly fast in such a labyrinthine place, though there were no doubts as to who was the ringleader.
“We can have the cèilidh in yer honor, instead of for the solstice!” Elsie said giddily, her eyes shining as if the engagement was hers and not one that had been foisted on Nancy. “It would be good for everyone, but good for alliances too. We can invite Laird and Lady Gibson, and Laird and Lady Culloch, too!”
Nancy, who’d been doing her best to concentrate on the baby and not on the enthusiasm that bounced back and forth between Elsie and Isla, perked up at the mention of Adeline.
“Laird Culloch’s braither and sister-in-law should be there, of course, and his maither. Laird Gibson’s maither and sister, too,” Elsie continued, nodding as if she had the deciding vote.
If I could go to Adeline, maybe I wouldn’t have to wait two weeks.
With a fake betrothal now weighing on her shoulders, Nancy was beginning to think that the sooner she left, the better it would be for everyone.
Now that she thought about it through a lens of increasing panic, she’d surely seen and experienced enough for Emily’s research. There wasn’t much else to stick around for, not unless she wanted to cause more trouble for herself.
