Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
After getting the affirmative that he would, in fact, be marrying Anna, Hugh returned to his chambers.
The room had an ornate carpet that dampened the sound of his footsteps as he paced, and the fireplace roared against the far wall.
It was warmer than his castle, though he found that he preferred the comfort that the Highlands provided.
His stomach growled as if to say that it too missed the Highlands. Since he wasn't invited to dine, Hugh assumed that he'd arrived after dinner. That, or Lord Windham was still unhappy about his showing up unannounced.
While he wasn't afraid of summoning his escort or calling for the butler to bring him something, Hugh wasn't a fool. He knew that his wild hair and kilt, along with his demeanor, scared his hosts' staff.
After his meeting with Anna and her father, Hugh was surprised to see that he was the one to encourage the wedding. He'd mentioned something about his daughter's reputation several times. Hugh knew about how meticulous one must be in looking after one's public image.
Life was so much simpler before me reputation mattered. Though I cannae say I miss the constant battle for survival.
It had been difficult for him to grow up without his father.
After he died when Hugh was five, Hugh had appointed himself the protector of his family.
Money had been scarce, and some days they had barely enough.
Tending to his image was preferable to worrying about whether or not his mother and siblings had enough to eat.
The hunger he felt now was nothing like the hunger that haunted him through childhood. It was easy to ignore, though it brought back memories of starvation. The things it did to the body were not easily forgotten.
He knew, without a doubt, that his experiences with starvation were why he found Anna so irresistible. The curves of her body spoke of a well-fed life. When he looked at her, he could only think of comfort. If she were tiny, he was sure he'd only see starving bodies in her.
It wasn't just her figure that Hugh found attractive. The features of her face were soft, making his hands ache to touch. And the way she spoke, the raw honesty she'd given him, was intoxicating.
He'd never done much by way of courting women, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of the strangeness of the territory.
His own brother had fallen for a woman whom his family knew to be dishonest. The men who served under him at Castle McDonald all had their own stories of their lovers being anything but forthright.
Still, it seemed that all of them were enchanted by these ladies.
While they'd met because of Anna's attempted deception, it had been clear that she regretted her actions. To Hugh, that spoke more to her character than anything else. A woman who was able to admit her mistakes meant more to him than looks, though it wasn't as if Anna was lacking there either.
In this situation, the arrangement he'd proposed seemed only to get better and better with each passing revelation.
From the looks of this home, Anna's dowry would be sizable as he'd initially assumed, though he still needed to consult with her father about the details.
Marrying for looks and love was an idea that he'd thrown aside when he'd accepted the Lairdship, but now he could see that he was getting that anyway.
She doesnae want me, though. That might take a wee bit of convincin'.
Eventually, night settled firmly over the manor.
Candlelight cast warm, flickering shadows into the corners of his chambers, while the fire in the hearth bathed the room in a golden glow.
Outside, he heard nothing—not even the staff.
At last, it seemed the right moment to venture out and seek dinner in the kitchens.
Ach, but first I have to find me way there.
Anna searched through the pantry, looking for something small to snack on. Dinner had been light, delivered to her in her room. And, while it had been delicious, it was far from filling. Her attempts to sleep had been thwarted by a low-level hunger.
"Just a little something," she murmured, frowning at the dry ingredients. "Perhaps some plain bread, then."
"Bread?" Hugh's voice replied, making her jump at being caught here.
"You frightened me," she said as she spun around, her hand clutched to her breast. "I was not expecting anyone else to be in the kitchens so late."
"Aye, nor did I," he said, amusement dancing across his handsome face. "Though I cannae say that I'm complainin' about the company."
His words made Anna blush, which she covered by fetching a loaf of bread. Then, she procured butter and cheese from the cold slab in the pantry. By the time she'd spread the food between them, her face felt less hot, though still warm.
"Here," she murmured, clearing her throat. "We can share."
"Ye kent exactly what I needed," he said appreciatively as he broke off a piece of bread and bit into it. "Thank ye."
Anna hummed, saying, "You are quite welcome."
They ate in silence for a few moments. It wasn't as uncomfortable as Anna expected. Hugh's presence at this moment was undemanding. While there were still questions and doubts stirring in her mind, he seemed to accept her quiet.
Though finally, she couldn't hold back her curiosity and asked, "Why is it that you asked me to marry you?"
He chewed thoughtfully for a beat before saying, "Why is it that ye said yes?"
Anna huffed, smiling despite herself. "I didn't have a choice to say no, did I?"
"Ach, I suppose ye didnae," he agreed. "And I didnae have a choice, either."
"I'm not sure I know what you mean by that," she said, her brow furrowing. "Surely you had a choice. You could have simply ignored the letter. Instead, you rode all the way to England and proposed engagement."
"Aye," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking as he ate the last bit of cheese. "But I need yer dowry."
Anna froze, something akin to insult simmering beneath her skin. With a sniff, she said, "I see. I am simply a business venture for you, then."
He chuckled, stepping in slightly closer. "Perhaps, but I ken ye're usin' me too," he conceded. His voice dropped a bit, down into an octave that felt almost suggestive. "I consider the two of us business partners, would you nae? I'll give ye everythin' ye want so long as ye're married to me."
"I… That's… You…" she stuttered, starting her sentence over and over again as she tried to come up with a proper response. "I just don't know what to say to that."
"Ye daenae need to say anythin'," Hugh said, finding the milk stored on the cold slab before rifling through the cabinets in search of a glass. "I'm tellin' ye the truth. I'm nae tryin' to win yer favor."
He's well on his way, though his desire for my dowry still sits uncomfortably on my spirit.
After finding a cup, he poured himself a healthy serving, saying, "I've been meanin' to ask. How did ye expect to get out of yer little scheme had I not come to marry ye?"
"Well," she said, taking the bottle and capping it. "I had planned to inform my friends of your death. They'd ask no further questions had I done so, for fear of upsetting me."
Hugh laughed, a genuine sound that was so loud Anna feared he'd wake the household. But, as it tapered off, she couldn't help the smile that settled upon her lips. Nor could she help the strange sense of warmth that took hold in her chest.
"It's been a good while since somethin' made me laugh so," he said when he recovered. "Thank ye for that."
"I was being serious," she said, holding herself a little straighter and narrowing her eyes at Hugh. Then, the ghost of a smile settled upon her lips. "Though I suppose it is a bit funny now that I've met you."
"I ken the people of Scotland will like ye," he said thoughtfully. "Ye're funny without even tryin'."
She grinned as she said, "Do not tell me that I will be accompanying you just to become your jester."
"Nay, never," he said, the serious mask that he'd worn since arriving returning to his face. "Ye will have duties, but I willnae bore ye with them now."
"What will it be like in Scotland?"
There was warmth in Hugh's eyes as he contemplated his answer. She saw, without him even having to speak a word, that he thought highly of his country. His own pride in his homeland made her a little less afraid of the changes awaiting her.
"It is a lush land, more trees and flowers surround me castle than I've seen the entire time I've been in England," he said.
"Flowers?" she asked, her excitement getting the better of her. She imagined there would be types she'd never seen before. She'd press each of them, send duplicates home to her father. "I'm quite fond of flowers, all kinds."
"Aye?" Hugh asked, his eyebrow raising. "Then ye will be pleased with the grounds and gardens of Castle McDonald. Me gardeners take pride in their work. I will accompany ye on walks if ye'd allow it."
"I think I'd like that," she replied, blushing.
Is this what it feels like to be courted?
She hadn't ever gotten this kind of attention before.
Once or twice, a man gave her a second glance, though their interest never lasted very long.
Anna's complete lack of social currency meant that men were easily dissuaded from her.
And, she suspected, girls like Charlotte weren't keen on keeping their opinions to themselves.
Before Anna was able to say anything else, the sound of footsteps reached her ear. They were heavy, and if she had to guess, it was the cook. The two of them had been too loud.
"Oh dear," she breathed, glancing around. "Hide, Hugh."
Without waiting for an answer, she tucked herself away in the pantry. She was careful to hold herself as still as possible. Still, she nearly knocked over a sack of flour, saving it with only a moment to spare. From the other side of the door, she couldn't hear any movement.
Hugh, what are you doing? Get out of here!
From her hiding place, she heard the moment that the door opened. There was a sharp intake of air, then the cook demanded, "And what are you doing in here?"
"Ach, it seems that me dinner was forgotten," Hugh replied gruffly. "I thought I'd take care of it meself so I didnae have to bother ye. Daenae worry, I returned everythin' to its proper place."
There was a long, tense pause. Anna knew the cook was collecting himself, reminding himself to mind his temper. She imagined his face flushing, his jaw working as he chewed the inside of his cheek the way he did whenever his staff did something he deemed particularly stupid.
"It seems you have eaten an entire loaf of bread," the cook said slowly. "And you've had more than a fair serving of milk."
"Aye, I suppose I did," Hugh said, sounding unbothered by the accusation underlying the cook's tone. "Me trip was quite long."
"If you were hungry, you should have pulled the bell," the cook said. "I could have sent up a plate."
"Ach, perhaps ye have a point," Hugh replied. "But now that I have ye, would ye mind gettin' me a wee glass of wine?"
Anna clapped her hand over her mouth, a giggle working its way out of her mouth. Thankfully, the chef's sputtering covered the sound. And, much to her surprise, the cook obliged Hugh's request.
Perhaps I don't have to be so skeptical about what's to come.