Page 2 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

“It wouldnae simply fall into another family’s lap,” Hendry replied, narrowing his eyes at Sebastian. “They would have to pry me lands from me cold, dead fingers.”

“We expect nothin’ less from ye,” Sebastian replied, sounding as if he were staying in place. It was as if he knew that crowding Hendry now would most certainly cause him to lash out. “But say ye daenae find yerself a wife and they come for yer lands. Surely, the fragile alliances that are protectin’ the Highlands that ye have painstakingly organized would be weakened. That is if they are still even standin’ after the dust settles.”

There was no argument Hendry could make against that. If he was being truthful with himself, that was precisely the reason he had even raised the issue. Certainly, he and his men could fend off a siege. He was less sure about what would happen to his people after he had won his right to lead.

“I daenae ken the first thing about findin’ a woman. It is nae as if one will appear on me lands or in me garden,” Hendry said, watching as a deer picked its way through the edges of the courtyard, eating away the fragile flowers on the blooming bushes. He finished the rest of his whisky, feeling the liquor going straight to his head. “But I need a wife. For the sake of me people.”

Sebastian made a noise of acknowledgment. As the fire crackled, making the atmosphere seem deceptively comfortable, Hendry grappled with his options. He had heard of auctions, though he could not remember the last time one had been held. His own close connections were limited to the men in this room, and they had no reason to be informed about those events. Nor did they have any women in their families who were in search of a husband.

“MacGregor,” Hendry said, turning around a bit faster than he intended. The alcohol had soaked into him now, emboldening him to ask for the assistance he would not be able to otherwise. “I cannae find a wife on me own. I need ye to assist me in findin’ one.”

Sebastian nearly choked on the mouthful of liquid he was consuming. Coughing slightly as he wiped dribbles of whisky from the sides of his mouth, he said, “And I will help ye.” He set his drink aside, something that felt a touch too mischievous for the situation flashing in his eye. “I will make a pact. Before the month’s end, the hermit will have a bride worthy of becomin’ Lady Anderson.”

“Where are ye goin’?” Fergus asked when Sebastian got to his feet and walked toward the solar door.

“I am bringin’ in me expert,” Sebastian said, a warmth in his voice that told Hendry that his ally could only be talking about one person.

As he had predicted, Sebastian returned a few minutes later with Alba, his new wife, on his arm. Her eyes swept the room, though it was obvious that every other sense she possessed was focused on her husband. Hendry crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to examine the niggling in his chest that he could not name.

It was not disgust, but if he were forced to name it, that is what he would say.

“Sebastian has told me a wee bit about yer conundrum,” Alba said, letting herself be led to the settee. “I will be takin’ control of this… endeavor. I believe it needs a woman’s touch.”

“Perhaps it does,” Hendry replied, maintaining his station by the window.

She made a happy noise in the back of her throat, her entire being seeming to radiate joy. He supposed that it was an appropriate attitude to have in the wake of a marriage one was looking forward to. Whatever arrangement he made, he knew that his own bride would not look so pleased.

“The first thing we must do is find every respectable, unmarried lady from our allied clans,” she said, the diplomatic tinge to her voice almost comical. When she met Hendry’s eyes, he could tell that she was teasing him. “Are ye ready to prepare more ceilidhs than ye’ve ever attended?”

“A ceilidh is nae necessary,” Hendry said, knowing that if he let this line of teasing go on for too long, they would convince him to invite others into the land he guarded so fiercely. “Me only requirement for her is that she kens the home she is agreein’ to spend the rest of her life at.”

Alba gasped, the sound a theatrical display. Beneath it though, there was genuine concern. She truly did not understand Hendry, nor how he could operate the way he did.

“I daenae think any Highland lass will be willin’ to marry the hermit without even seein’ him,” she said, her own voice honeyed with the sweetness of wine. “All of them would be much more willin’ to tie themselves to a life of relative seclusion if they see that ye will attend the occasional ceilidh.”

He glared at the woman, ignoring the way Sebastian seemed to stifle a laugh. Then, he sighed, seeing the logic in her argument. “I will tolerate four gatherin’s over the next four weeks. And in that time, I will find a bride.”

Pleased, Alba leaned over and whispered something in Sebastian’s ear. Hendry did not bother himself with worrying over what they could be discussing. Instead, he turned back toward the window, tracking the deer as it slinked further into the gardens.

I have never liked the word “bride”, but I have nay other choice but to take one.

Chapter Two

Four Weeks Later, Anderson Castle

“Icannae take all of this ruckus,” Hendry grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Lady MacGregor, Lady MacRae, and Lady MacKenzie huddled around a table in the corner of the great hall.

“The lasses are quite polite,” Willy, Hendry’s man-at-arms, said flatly. He was absorbed with his own project, whittling away at a small block of wood. “And they are doin’ ye a great favor. I daenae ken if ye’ve spoken to them, but they are all missin’ their children.”

“I never asked them to prepare me hall,” Hendry said, frowning when Alba shook her head at something Isobel showed her. “We could have taken care of it on our own.”

“What do ye ken about decoratin’ for a ceilidh?” Willy challenged, not looking away from the little block of wood in his palm.

“Do we nae have ladies in the clan that would look forward to the task?” Hendry countered, only standing his ground for the sake of principle.

“They are already helpin’,” Willy said, finally glancing up at Hendry. “But it has been so long since we have hosted any sort of gatherin’ or celebration; they need all the help they can get.”

Hendry grunted, glancing down at the block. “Are ye makin’ a bear?”