Page 26 of When the Laird Claims
“Ah, it would appear that his talent for makin’ women run away from him is still intact,” Kristin muttered.
Arran blinked, wondering for a moment if his sister had somehow read his mind… until he realized she was responding to their mother’s question.
Ye need to get her out of yer head.The trouble was, she simply would not leave, popping up without warning, reminding him of that searing kiss. And that vacant chair was not helping.
“Was that a joke?” his mother said with a gladdened smile.
Kristin shrugged. “It was a fact.”
In an instant, Arran’s focus was restored to his family, as he and his mother exchanged an amused, similarly hopeful glance. Outside of the conversation with Victoria earlier, Kristin had not commented—spoken at all, really—without being directly asked a question first, let alone a mischievous comment like that. It was the first real indicator that the hellion that she once was, was still inside her somewhere.
It meant that there was hope.
Whatever it was that she and Victoria had spoken about earlier, he owed her for it.
His hand started to tap anxiously on the table as he finished his first glass of wine far too quickly. “I think ye’re right,” he grumbled after some time.
There was still no sign of Victoria anywhere, and he hated it.
“About what?” his mother asked, swallowing a mouthful of venison.
He leaned back in his chair. “She’s nae comin’.”
“Ye should apologize. She’s probably scared,” Kristin chimed in again, handing off her sleeping daughter to her maid before stretching her neck from one side to the other. “After all, ye must be truly concerned if ye are willin’ to admit that ye’re wrong.”
“Two jokes in one dinner?” his mother commented, pressing the back of her hand into her forehead. “Have I fallen ill? Am I hallucinating?”
Kristin merely rolled her eyes and actually nodded to have her food served. She had not eaten a full meal with them in over a month now.
His mind turned back to Victoria, trying to remember the last time that she had eaten. She had taken some breakfast on the ship, he knew, but most of it had ended up in the sand dunes when they landed. And he was not certain she had risked lunch.
He motioned for one of the maids, gesturing to his plate and the untouched place setting beside him. “Have these brought up to Lady Victoria’s room. Put a selection of things on her plate.”
The maid nodded and picked up the two plates before heading back to the kitchen to fulfill the instructions. Clearing his throat, Arran scraped back his chair and stood up… suddenly aware of his mother and sister watching him intently. Ruby, too.
“A picnic in the lass’s room, eh?” Kristin said. “I wonder whyIdidnae receive an invitation.”
Their mother stifled a laugh behind her hand.
“I just want to make sure she eats something,” he muttered, walking off, keenly aware of their eyes following him out.
It’s just a courtesy,he told himself. It certainly had nothing to do with him being unable to bear the sight of that vacant chair a moment longer,needingit to be filled with Victoria’s exquisite figure. But if she would not come to him, then he had no choice but to go to her.
For a long moment after knocking on Victoria’s door and calling out to her, he wondered if the lack of response meant that she wasn’t actually in her room or if she was just making him squirm.
He supposed he might deserve that.
“Lass?” he called again.
When she still did not answer, he tried the door and found it unlocked. Pushing it wide, he saw her sitting at the small table by the window with the food in front of her. Untouched.
“Of course, you would not take the lack of an answer as a sign to leave a woman alone. It is truly a wonder that I ever believed you to possess manners in the first place,” Victoria groused with a sigh.
“I wanted to–”
“Be certain I had not escaped out of the window, back to England?” she interrupted crisply.
He grumbled under his breath. “Nay, that’s nae it. Ye didnae come down to supper, so…”
