Page 158 of Laird of Flint
“Is it?” Deirdre asked in concern. Then she turned to the nearest maidservant.“Isit taking so long?”
The maidservant’s eyes went wide. She’d likely never been questioned by a warrior maid. But Deirdre trusted her opinion more than a man’s. Women knew more about such things. The maidservant bit her lip, glancing uncertainly at Carenza’s father. Then she shook her head.
“Then there’s time,” Deirdre said. “Hallie?”
Hew’s cousin Hallie came forward and pulled a scroll out of her satchel. She handed it to Deirdre, who handed it to Dunlop.
“I need you to sign and seal this,” Deirdre said.
Dunlop frowned in confusion. “What is it? Can it not wait? This is no time for negotiations and contracts. As I’ve said, my daughter is in—”
“Aye, so you’ve said. And ’tis my nephew’s bairn, aye?”
“Aye.”
“Then I need you to sign and seal this.”
She unfurled the scroll then, and Hew’s breath caught as he recognized the document.
Dunlop raised himself to his full height, which was still just shy of Laird Deirdre. “With all due respect, m’laird, ’twill have to wait until—”
“Nay.” She showed him the document. “Now.”
Flustered by her bold challenge, Dunlop skimmed the parchment, then took it in trembling hands when he saw what it was. “Scribe!”
Hope swelled in Hew. Was their marriage going to be made real before the bairn arrived? That was his dearest wish for Carenza.
In the darkest part of his heart, he’d secretly feared God might punish him for his sin with the death of their child. Now at least that part of his dread might be vanquished.
The scribe arrived, bringing his quill, ink, wax, and the clan seal.
Logan sidled up and elbowed Hew with a grin. “A bairn already.” Then he leaned close to whisper, “So tell me again how this vow of chastity works.”
Before he could cuff Logan for his taunt, Hew’s arm was grabbed by his sister Jenefer.
She was furious. But marriage had moderated her temper. Instead of using fists and bellowing, she was biting out curses between clenched teeth and squeezing the blood out of his arm with her archer’s grip.
“What the devil were you thinking, you sarding cad?” she hissed. “I sat by while you dallied with half the village like a bloody rutting bull. I said nothing when you trysted with other men’s wives and tried to bed a nun, for God’s sake. Anun.But this, Hew. Lucifer’s ballocks. This is beyond even you. Seducing your cousin’s betrothed. A laird’s daughter. Getting her with child and abducting her to live in exile. And all that without even securing a legitimate marriage. How could you?”
No one could get Hew’s blood to boiling like his older sister. He was already on edge from the stress of the morn. And now his arm was tingling, and he couldn’t feel his fingers.
It would feel good to engage her in battle. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d settled their differences with blades. And a bit of violence might be just the thing he needed to get his mind off the turmoil upstairs.
“Do I need to defend my honor?” he bit out, skewering her with his gaze.
“Do you?” she bit back, burning into his eyes with a glare.
And then he took a breath.
Bloody hell. What was he doing? He didn’t need to defend anything. Every step of the way, he’d done what he thought was best. Carenza loved him. And she was upstairs, fighting the battle of her life. The last thing she needed to hear was the clash of swords below from her husband’s clan.
“Nay,” he decided with a sigh. “I do not.”
To his surprise, Jenefer backed down as well. Her eyes slowly turned from fire to molten wax. Her chin quivered. She released her grip and rubbed her hand along his arm in apology.
“I don’t want to fight you,” she admitted.
He smirked. “’Tis a good thing. You’ve drained all the strength from my arm.”
