Page 159 of Laird of Flint
“Och, Hew,” she sighed, “I can’t wait to be an aunt.”
The document was signed and sealed. The laird of Dunlop handed it back to the laird of Rivenloch, who handed it to Hew.
“Your marriage is now official,” she said. “My grandchild will be a Rivenloch.”
She winked then, letting him know it meant more to her than that.
“Thank you both for your haste,” Hew said. Then he glanced around the hall. “Where is Sister Eve?” He wanted to thank her and tell her about the gown they’d left in the byre.
Deirdre replied with a long-suffering sigh. “That is a tale for another day, one that is not yet finished.”
Before he could wonder at her enigmatic words, his cousin Isabel crashed into him with a hug and a giggle.
“’Tis so romantic, Hew,” she gushed, “like a Viking of old, abducting his bride.”
“That’s not quite how—”
“And Lady Carenza, trapped at Darragh, pining for you for days and days.”
“’Twas only a sennight or so.”
But there was no stopping young Isabel, who loved turning a wee spring into a raging sea.
“I told you you’d find The One,” she said.
“You did.”
Suddenly, a maidservant emerged from the stairwell into the great hall. The room immediately hushed. The maidservant froze, blinking in confusion.
Hew’s heart was in his throat. Bracing himself for the worst, he finally dared to break the silence. “What news?” he croaked.
“Och,” the maidservant said, exhaling in relief. “Nothin’. Lady Carenza is fine. I only came downstairs to get a wee bite.”
After a collective sigh, the conversation in the great hall resumed.
Deirdre busied Dunlop with discussions of King Malcolm and the border and the English, which helped to keep his fears for his daughter at bay.
Logan caught Hew up on all the news from home, allaying his own worries.
Jenefer, Hallie, and Feiyan chatted with the Dunlop warriors, comparing weaponry and battle tactics.
Isabel nagged Hew for details about their romantic adventures. He finally told her some things were better left to the imagination.
The day dragged on and on. Food was brought out. Ale was poured. Some of the servants who had risen early for Martinmas napped along the wall and beside the fire.
Hallie wandered up to Hew. “How are you holding up, cousin?”
“I didn’t expect ’twould take so long,” he murmured.
“Nay?”
“I wish she didn’t have to suffer so.” He tapped the scroll against his thigh.
Hallie paused, frowning down at the document. “She doesn’t know about that, does she?”
“The marriage decree? Nay.”
She arched a brow. “I have an idea.”
