Page 18 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

He scoffed, the sound halfway to a laugh. The fact that she was able to pull that kind of reaction out of him made something warm bubble in her stomach. Before she was able to tease further, another wave of dizziness washed over her, the room feeling as though it were seconds from disappearing from beneath her body even though she was in bed.

“Ye should rest,” Hendry said, seeming to sense the change in her. His entire demeanor shifted in a way that made her chest blossom with warmth. “Ye have rested, but ye are still ill.”

“I daenae need to spend days locked in me chambers,” she argued, though as the words left her mouth, she rested her head against the solid, carved wood at her back. “I amnae an invalid. I will be right as rain in nay time.”

“It seems that ye must be confined to yer chambers if we wish to keep ye from overworkin’ yerself. Ye shouldnae have been outside earlier. Ye had been instructed to stay put,” Hendry said as he crossed the room, stopping in front of the door. “Ye will spend less time in bed if ye allow yerself to rest now. If ye keep collapsin’, ye will lose days to it.”

He did not give her another chance to speak, seeming to sense that she would just continue to argue with him if he stayed in the room. Even after the door closed behind him, Aurora stayed upright, staring at the space he had just occupied.

She had not expected to feel such a sense of relief at having Hendry back in the castle. Even though she wanted to believe that the lightness she felt was all because of seeing her brother up and around, it was more than that.

And it sounded as if he might be… concerned about me. Or perhaps I’m just imaginin’ things. That was just another command.

* * *

Hendry was settling into his seat behind the desk when someone knocked at the door of his study. He lifted his eyes from the parchment spread in front of him, considering the visitor for a beat. Grunting, he allowed them entry. A second later, a messenger stepped inside with a letter in his hand.

“This arrived for ye just a few moments ago, me Laird,” the man said, placing a wax-sealed envelope in front of Hendry. “I brought it right to ye.”

Making a noise of acknowledgment, he picked it up and studied the wax seal on the back. He had seen it years ago, though he could not remember the content of that particular missive. As the messenger left, he ran his thumb over the intricate details of the red boar. He already had a feeling he knew who had sent it.

The timin’ would be curious.

When he pulled the folded parchment from inside, his eyes immediately darted to the signature at the bottom. It was precise, delivered with a flourish that spoke of someone with a high opinion of himself, someone that believed everything belonged to him. Laird MacGonagal.

“And what could he possibly want?” Hendry grumbled, ignoring the gnawing pit in his stomach.

At first glance, the letter was innocent enough. It seemed to be nothing more than one man congratulating another on his betrothal, filled with vague and fluffed phrases. Hendry was not a fool, though. The word “unexpected” made several appearances, and the last paragraph was dedicated entirely to Laird MacGonagal expressing his interest in meeting Hendry’s new, mysterious bride personally. Even though he had tried to conceal his intentions, his suspicion was undeniable.

A chill ran down his spine as he read over the letter a second time. This was not a coincidence. It could not be.

When his door opened without a knock, he quickly flipped the missive face down on the desk. It covered the envelope and the broken seal. He was grateful for his quick thinking as soon as his eyes met Aurora’s.

“I apologize if I interrupted ye,” she said softly, her voice still subdued. The color was coming back to her face, but he could see the signs of sickness clinging to her. She moved a bit slower. There were the slightest dark circles beneath her eyes. Still, when she spoke, there was a challenge in her tone. “I just wanted to tell ye that I would be goin’ into the herb garden for a bit of a walk and to pull weeds. Unless ye have any objections.”

“Ye are still weak,” Hendry said, the sharpness of his tone meant to discourage any arguments. He would never admit that underneath it all, there was a thread of worry, that she would end up collapsing once more. “Ye arenae to tend to any chores until the healer says ye are ready. That is me final decree.”

“I would prefer if I were useful,” she insisted, putting her hands on her hips. His tone had not deterred her. If anything, she was digging her heels in even deeper. “And I feel well, as does Adair, so there is nae use in sittin’ at his bedside.”

Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet. As he did, the parchment slipped. Before he could shift it back into place, Aurora’s eyes darted down to it, no doubt catching on the seal.

“Is that—” she squeaked, stumbling forward to brace herself with her hands on the back of the nearest chair.

The bit of color that had returned drained completely from her face. Her lips were tight, her entire body trembling slightly. Hendry stepped out from behind his desk, rounding the corner and resting his palm against her elbow to steady her. Her body still felt too warm, even through the sleeve of her gown.

Ach, she isnae well enough to be up like this.

“He is still searchin’,” Hendry said in an attempt to soothe her. She did not need to be working herself up over this. He had promised her protection, and he was not the kind of man that went back on his promises. “That was nothin’ more than a congratulations sent in response to the announcement. I have received many from all over the Highlands, from allies and acquaintances alike. He has nay reason to suspect that me future bride is ye.”

As her initial shock began to subside, her fear turned to fury. Still holding onto the back of the chair, she whipped her head toward him. She was still shaking, but there was a different quality. Practically exploding in anger, she exclaimed, “Ye daenae understand how cunnin' me uncle is!”

Hendry frowned. He knew her trust in him was shaky, but he would not allow her to doubt his skills. “Ye daenae need to⁠—”

“I told ye that this would happen,” she said, refusing to allow him to finish his thought. It was as if she could not be stopped now that she had started. “The Scottish Managers have me name, and ye have told too many people about me existence.”

“Secrecy alone would have never kept ye safe,” he said, his grip on her elbow tightening as he stepped in closer. He needed her to see through her fear, to understand that he was making the decisions that were best for her, for her brother. “If he is as cunnin’ as ye say, it was only a matter of time before he found ye.”

“And yet if ye would have maintained me secrecy, he wouldnae already be writin’ to ye,” Aurora countered, wrenching herself free from his hold. She stumbled slightly before catching herself, still a bit unsteady on her feet after her illness. “We would have had more time to prepare.”