Page 25 of The Highlander's Inconvenient Wife
He’d make sure of that once her dowry was paid in full. He held with the teaching that nobody needed a happy marriage when money as involved. Joan Moore would provide him with plenty of that whether she liked it or not. He’d come too far to simply allow her to slip through his fingers now.
“An’ who are ye?” A tall man wearing a kilt and cotton shirt came forward. The Scotsman was tall and formidable with his long black hair and blue eyes. His bulky frame and many scars spoke of the battles he had fought and undoubtedly won.
“I am looking for Laird MacKinnon,” Edwin said as he removed his top hat and smoothed the strands of his ash blonde hair. He was at least a head shorter than the fierce warrior with a lanky frame and blue eyes, and he hoped that would speak of his innocence. He had a story to sell, and he wasn’t beyond lying to make them believe it.
“Aye, an’ who exactly are ye?” the man asked gruffly as he stood his ground and folded his arms across his chest in a formidable stance.
“Of course, how rude of me,” Edwin stepped forward and offered his hand. “My name is Edwin Grandison; I am a friend of Joan Moore’s. I believe she is here in Scotland visiting your wife.”
The man looked down at his hand as if it were offensive, and then back up at his face. “I am Laird MacKinnon; I think ye better come with me,” he said gruffly and turned to leave, gesturing for Edwin to follow suit.
* * *
Avery paced back and forth in the sitting room of the castle as she waited for Darragh to return with news of Joan. They had been waiting patiently for her since her letter had arrived three days prior, yet there hadn’t been any sign of her. She should have been at the castle already, even if she had decided to spend a few nights at an inn. The delay had both Avery and Darragh worried sick as they waited for news.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the window, Avery could see just how tired she looked. Her long blonde hair was disheveled, and the bags beneath her brown eyes were quickly turning blue. It would be hard for Joan to recognise her like this, but then again, not even she would have recognised herself since she had gotten married. Her once slender frame was much curvier after carrying and giving birth to more than one child.
“There is someone here that says he kens Joan.” Her husband’s voice broke into her thoughts as she turned to see Darragh standing at the door with a rather lanky looking gentleman at his side.
“Please tell me that she is unharmed?” she asked in a panic without introducing herself as she rushed forward.
“I was hoping that you would be able to answer that exact question,” the man replied, returning her frown and looking around the room as if he were appraising everything that he saw.
Avery took an instant dislike to the man although she couldn’t quite explain why. His soft-spoken mannerisms were polite enough, yet there was something else behind his eyes — a kind of greed and hunger that didn’t sit well with her. “Please come in.” She gestured to one of the couches in the sitting room. “How is it that you know Joan?” She decided to take a chance and hear what the man had to say. He was, after all, the only hope of finding Joan at present.
“My name is Edwin Grandison; I am a friend of Joan’s from London. I heard that she would be paying you a visit and thought I might pop in and surprise her. I was already in Scotland on business, you see,” he explained cheerfully.
Avery exchanged a concerned look with Darragh before sitting opposite the man on a separate coach. “I’m afraid that Joan isn’t here; her letter arrived a few days ago, but she has not,” she cut to the chase.
“We were hoping that ye would be able to shed some light on the matter,” Darragh said and glared at the man.
It was evident to Avery that her husband had gotten the same impression from the man that she had and trusted him even less.
“I don’t understand.” He looked from one to the other with a shocked look in his eyes. “She should have been here by now.” He fidgeted with his hands between his knees. “Her journey shouldn’t take this long.”
“That’s what we thought,” Avery spoke up again. “She alluded to being in some kind of trouble in her letter, but she didn’t say what that trouble was.” She looked him straight in the eyes to try and see if he was holding anything back.
“I can’t say that I know of any trouble.” He looked at his boots before looking at them once again. “She was in fine fettle last time I saw her. I can’t for the life of me think of any kind of trouble that she was in.”
“An’ when was that?” Darragh asked as he continued to stand beside the door, glaring at the man in a very intimidating manner.
“Well, it must have been a week ago at a ball,” he answered cheerfully. “We had met and had a lovely conversation after engaging in a few dances. Joan was the belle of the ball as she always is.” The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled.
Avery quickly did the calculations in her head and realized that Joan must have sent the letter on the day of the ball or the one there after if the man was telling the truth. Thinking on her feet, she quickly leaned over the seat and reached for a note that that lay on the table beside the couch. “Here, you can read her words for yourself,” she said and handed him the note that had arrived a few days prior.
Edwin accepted the note with long, bony fingers and read before chuckling to himself and placing his forehead in his hand. “I see that I must confess in the midst of all the panic that has been created.”
Avery felt her anger growing as she waited for the man to explain. He seemed smug and overly confident as he folded the letter in half and handed it back to her.
“I’m afraid that I haven’t been honest with you; you see, I am not Joan’s friend.” His demeanor changed a little as he puffed out his chest with pride.
Avery saw the way Darragh’s muscles tensed from the corner of her eye and hoped to God that the man was not about to confess something terrible. Darragh never took kindly to lies, especially not when friends of family were involved. The ordeal with her own father had left him with a lack of trust for anyone that he didn’t love.
“I am her betrothed.” A wolfish grin spread over his lips, revealing a sharp row of teeth that made Avery’s stomach churn.
“Surely Joan would have written to say if she had a betrothed,” she argued, utterly shocked at the news. “I can’t see why she would have kept it a secret from me.”
“I don’t think there was time,” he countered as a matter of fact. “I had only just asked her parents for her hand in marriage when she up and left London.”
