Page 49 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

Hendry grunted his acknowledgment, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. It was an approximation of relaxation, a deceptive stance that was more for himself than his friend. Hendry kept his eyes on Willy’s back as he retreated, not shifting in his seat until the other man had closed the door and sunk him into the solitude that he had been craving since the first carriage had come to a stop in the courtyard earlier in the day.

Even as he let his posture relax, he knew that he did not truly wish for solitude. In the last several days, he had seen less and less of Aurora. Preparations had kept him otherwise engaged while Mrs. Duncan had done everything within her power to keep Aurora’s mind occupied.

Ach, she has been on me mind even more now, and I am nae foolish enough to believe it is simply because I am tryin’ to keep her safe.

When he finally snapped himself out of his thoughts, Hendry pulled MacGonagal’s previous letters toward him, parsing through each line as he had done so many times before. He made note of each stroke, of the places where he could read hesitation when the man was writing. It was all confidence, arrogance disguised behind flowery language.

His intentions had only become more transparent to Hendry.

There was nothing new there, though, just as he had expected. He put them to the side, refusing to let himself become obsessive over the only correspondence he had, leaning his head against the back of the chair. His eyes traced lines in the ceiling, the stones that had been there centuries before he was born.

When he had inherited the lairdship, he had not anticipated just what challenges might come his way. He knew that there were men before him who had faced enemies just as fearsome. There were likely enemies whose stories did not make it into the texts they kept. It was part of the position, finding solutions to problems that would paralyze lesser men.

I dinnae think that I would be dealin’ with somethin’ quite like this.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Ach, I cannae stay here,” Hendry growled to himself, leaving his chambers just as he had done the last several nights. “Me mind willnae quiet.”

He had kept himself terribly occupied over the last several days. If he was not working with his men, preparing for the inevitable arrival of whichever enemy had intercepted his hawk, he had been coordinating tomorrow’s ceremony with his staff.

Already, guests had begun to arrive.

“Mrs. Duncan,” he said, stopping the woman as they crossed paths. “I trust all of our visitors have been fed and are settlin’ in for the night?”

“Aye, me Laird,” she confirmed, shifting the basket of linens from one hip to the other. “I am finishin’ gettin’ the last quarters prepared, then I will be turnin’ in for the evenin’.”

“Aurora and Adair are settled?” he asked, unable to keep the question from coming out.

He had been so busy that he had only caught glimpses of the two during mealtimes. Mrs. Duncan had kept Aurora busy, having her perform all of the tasks and duties that he had requested she refrain from doing until they were officially married. He was fairly certain that Adair had been in the library, though he could not be sure as he had not been in that part of the castle except for long after the sun had set.

“Aye. Lady Aurora tried on her gown for the ceremony this afternoon. She looks absolutely bonnie,” Mrs. Duncan reported. “Hilda has brought both Aurora and Adair some tea to help them get to sleep. The boy is quite excited about the festivities.”

“I imagine he is,” Hendry said, remembering the way the boy’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the celebration.

“Would ye like me to ask Hilda to bring ye some of her tea?” she suggested, shifting her weight slightly. “Ye daenae look as though ye’ve been sleepin’ well.”

“I have been busy with the preparations,” he said, stepping to the side so she could continue on her way. “I will be goin’ to the cabin to sleep this evenin’.”

The older woman paused, looking as if she were going to say something before shaking her head as if she had thought better of it. Instead, she said, “I will keep that in mind if any of us need ye. But I will direct what I can to Willy. Ye need yer rest.”

“I am nae a child,” Hendry said, though his words did not carry any heat. “I can take care of meself.”

“I wasnae implyin’ ye couldnae,” Mrs. Duncan said, not bothering to hide her amusement. “But I ken that ye have a tendency to allow yer thoughts to keep ye awake all throughout the night. Tomorrow is much too important a day for ye to be deprived of rest.”

“Daenae get too bold,” he warned, though his words lacked any serious threat.

“I am simply teasin’ ye,” Mrs. Duncan said, giving him a fond smile. “It is yer last day as a bachelor. After tomorrow it will be solely Lady Aurora’s duty to tease ye. And she is much too kind to truly get under yer skin.”

“Ye are wrong about that,” he scoffed, taking a few steps forward to signify that he was finished with the discussion for the moment. “I will see ye tomorrow, Mrs. Duncan.”

As she bid him a good night, Hendry made his way through the corridor. He passed by more maids, more servants, all of them busy with keeping their guests comfortable and all of their needs attended to. Though they were not practiced in the art of hosting, they were all undoubtedly excited to rise to the occasion.

Stepping out into the pale moonlight, Hendry wondered if he had been depriving his people by keeping the public away. There had been a definitive lifting of the clan’s collective spirit in the days leading up to the handfasting. If he had not been so concerned with keeping his people safe, he was sure that their energy would have been contagious.

As it were, anything that took his focus off of MacGonagal put everyone at risk. More celebrations could come, but only after he had taken care of the threat.

“Ach, but the threat could already be under me roof,” he muttered to himself as he stepped onto the lush soil of his herb garden, resisting the temptation to wander up and down the rows to clear his mind.