Page 61 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

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Hendry paced the interior of the cabin at a pace that felt mad. His mind had been racing since Willy’s report. Even with the knowledge that his men and the other Lairds in attendance would be fighting alongside him was not enough to stop the noise.

“There will be bloodshed on this day,” he said to himself.

It was not because he wished it so. Part of him still hoped that he and Willy were simply being overly cautious. But a man who operated on optimism was a man who would die without seeing his attacker approach.

The wedding bells clanged in the distance, a signal that his self-imposed isolation would be ending shortly. He found solace in the fact that he would see Aurora, touch her, and know that she was under his immediate protection. He had not seen her since the ladies had pulled her away to get her ready.

A knock came at the door of the cabin, soft and uncertain. He ignored the thought that it may be her, that she may be coming to find steadiness in his presence. Instead, he squared his shoulders and prepared to come face to face with one of his men.

Instead, when he pulled the door open, Adair stood there. He was dressed in a kilt and a fine doublet that the seamstress had taken great pride in making for him. Upon his cheek was a splotch of dirt, but otherwise, he looked as if he were ready for the celebration.

“Shouldnae ye be headin’ to the chapel?” Hendry asked, not moving to allow the boy entry. “Ye were with Brian, aye?”

“Aye, and Brian has already gone to take his seat,” Adair said. He shifted from foot to foot, looking as though there was something on the tip of his tongue.

When he did not say anything further, Hendry said, “Why daenae ye come in? We can speak before we both have to go to the kirk.”

The words seemed to soothe something in the boy, and he stepped inside. His eyes, much sharper than those of most boys his age, swept over the room, cataloguing each item inside. There was a curiosity there, and Hendry could see a thousand questions forming in the child’s mind. Surprisingly, he did not voice a single one.

“Ye will take care of me sister,” Adair said, his shoulders squaring as he lifted his chin. His stance was reminiscent of the first night they had met, a tiny protector that would stare down an opponent more than twice his size. “Ye will keep her safe.”

“Aye, I will keep her safe,” Hendry said. He remained standing upright, speaking to Adair as though he were an equal rather than a young boy who was under his care. “I made a vow to her in that cabin, and I will stand before me clan and me allies to make that vow official.”

Adair continued to stare up at him. He was scrutinizing Hendry, looking for any signs that he was not telling the truth. Crossing his arms over his chest, he made a noise of acceptance.

“That is good,” Adair said in his most diplomatic voice. It took everything in Hendry not to smile at his proclamation. “She deserves only the best.”

“Ye arenae wrong about that,” Hendry said warmly, the affection that had grown for Aurora leaking through. “And I will spend every single day provin’ that I am worthy of her. And if ye ever believe that I amnae doin’ me job well, I will listen to yer complaints and adjust me behavior accordingly.”

Adair seemed to be pleased with Hendry’s response. After nodding sagely, he turned back to the interior of the cabin. “Aurora said that ye came here to hide. Ye hide?”

“I daenae hide,” Hendry said, thankful that the boy did not pick up on his defensiveness. “This is where I come when I need a moment to think uninterrupted.”

“It isnae a good place to be if ye daenae want someone interruptin’ ye,” Adair said decisively, walking over to the table and looking at the dried leaves on the surface. “I can always tell when ye are here. The chimney is smokin’ when ye are here.”

“Ach, it isnae about bein’ secretive,” Hendry said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It is about havin’ a place that belongs to only me.”

“Aurora comes here too, though, does she nae?” Adair asked, his childlike curiosity both a sign of a healthy mind and incredibly prying.

Hendry knew that skirting the question would only encourage the boy to press further. Or, even worse, do his own investigations to find his own answers. The boy’s drive was admirable, it would make him a good leader, but it would also make it difficult to keep information from him.

“She does, aye,” Hendry said, knowing that denial was insufficient. The boy had either seen her here or heard from her that this was a place that she had been. “Though she arrived here much the same as ye did, completely uninvited. It seems to run in yer family.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But the herb garden is where she prefers to be.”

“She loved the herbs at our old castle,” Adair said, turning around with a thoughtful look on his face. “The two of ye are the same.”

“Is that so?” Hendry said, ignoring the sharp pang of affection for the woman that shot through him at the boy’s words.

She had already told him a bit of it, that she would walk the gardens in the home she had fled. He had assumed that she drew more comfort from his herbs than she had let on. Hearing the confirmation only made him feel closer to her.

Clearing his throat, Hendry walked toward the cabin door. As he opened it, he met Adair’s eyes. “Come now. It is nearly time for the ceremony to begin.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Idaenae think that I have ever seen ye so eager,” Sebastian said, his voice barely audible above the bells still ringing. “The hermit is finally lookin’ forward to partnership.”

Hendry grunted, not looking away from the chapel doors. From the corner of his mouth, he said, “Have ye considered that I would like for the eyes to be off me as quickly as possible?”