Page 19 of When the Laird Claims
“Right, of course,” Victoria answered, not even fully realizing that by picking up the knapsack that he had placed on the bed for her with travel supplies, she was agreeing to his plan and making her choice. It was not as if he would have allowed her to get far from him anyway, right?
“It took some time to get a smaller horse for ye, but the men are saddlin’ her up right now… it will be a long ride until we reach the docks. I do hope ye rested a bit.” Arran spoke matter-of-factly.
“Docks? Where on earth are we going?” She wanted to step in front of him, if only to force him to look at her—to really see her.
She wanted to see it on his face that this was the right choice for her to make, that she couldactuallytrust him. But only time would be able to actually answer that question for her… she did know that.
“It’s quicker than ridin’ the whole way,” he replied. “If ye daenae think yecanride, speak now; ye can ride with me.”
She was tempted to feel the closeness of him once more, before she remembered her promise to not let anything happen again.
“I can keep up,” she answered flatly, feeling somewhat hollow.
Arran nodded curtly and turned to leave the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him as he left. “We’ll be waiting for ye downstairs then. Daenae tarry, lass.”
She waited until he was out of earshot to start down the stairs slowly, her thighs already protesting the movement from yesterday’s ride and her fitful sleep. “Could not even if I wanted to.”
Just when she thought that she knew what she was getting herself into, the rug was ripped out from underneath her yet again.
“Nae long now,” the man-at-arms declared, stretching out his arms with the casual air of a man who was well accustomed toriding horses… and sailing on rough seas. “Can ye smell that, M’Laird? That’s the scent of home!”
“We are almost there?” Victoria asked weakly.
Her assertion that she “could keep up” was the second greatest regret of her life, behind agreeing to marry Charles. The journey had gone by in one long, painful blur, with a harrowing bout of seasickness thrown in for good measure.
The man-at-arms chuckled. “Ye’re lookin’ a wee bit green there, lass.”
“Ifeela wee bit green,” she mimicked, swallowing uncomfortably.
Although, she could not deny that the beach they had landed on had been breathtaking. She would have liked to admire it more, but running off to expel the contents of her stomach had taken precedence.
Still, the forests and moorlands and jagged cliffs and rugged coast that had revealed themselves since were equally beautiful, the colors unlike anything she had seen in London or Bath or in the English countryside. Indeed, the English landscapes were not nearly so dramatic, in her humble—and somewhat sickly—opinion.
“I bet ye’ll never want to go back,” the man-at-arms said. “Once ye’ve gotten used to Scottish air, ye’ll never want anythin’ else.”
“As long as I never have to journey on a boat again,” she muttered.
The relatively small band of a dozen men chuckled at her remark, all but Arran. And, despite herself, she felt a little smile tug at the corners of her lips. Lips that had been kissed not so long ago.
As the traveling party finally arrived at the Laird’s keep, she found herself almost feeling comfortable with those around her. Something that she certainly never thought that she would ever have been able to say about a bunch of men with accents so thick that it was oftentimes hard to understand them. Never mind their… habits.
Strangely, it almost felt like they had been attempting to normalize the whole experience for her, to include her. Arran did not seem to have the same opinion. It was nice that he was not belching around her like the other men, but she did wish that he would pay her even just a little bit more attention.
He cannot be seen to be… familiar with his prisoner,she told herself.What sort of example would that set, if he went about kissing me?
Victoria wanted nothing more than to think that the entire reason for his standoffishness was that the pair of them had not been afforded any sort of privacy for the duration of the trip. Something that she hoped would be remedied now that he was back home, and that she was to be staying with him as his ‘guest’ for the foreseeable future.
It was better to think of things that way than to think that he was deliberately ignoring her.
“Brace yerselves!” one of the warriors called out, as the party neared the gates of that tall, imposing keep. “The wives and bairns are waitin’!”
The men cheered in response, riding a little faster to reach the families they had left behind.
When they all arrived at the gate, there was, indeed, a welcome party there to greet them. From the excited murmuring of the men around her, she had to presume that they were wives or daughters or other loved ones, the warriors picking up their children and swinging them around, showing more affection than Victoria had ever seen. It was somewhat shocking to see that nearly all of the men appeared to be married, and even more so that all of their wives seemed to be genuinely excited to see them return home.
More stark differences from the life that she had thought herself resigned to.
Is there someone waiting for Arran?Dread chilled her, for she had not stopped to think that he might have someone at the keep. A wife or betrothed of his own. What ifthatwas the reason he had pulled away, and had been ignoring her for the better part of three days?
