Page 38 of When the Laird Claims
That night, a storm hit the castle unlike anything she had ever heard before. Something about the stone walls seemed to make each clap of thunder echo around her room violently. The lightning cast terrifying shadows, and made sleep absolutely impossible. Everything felt as if it were shrinking in on her. The bed was no longer comfortable, and she felt that if she stayed inher room alone for a single moment longer then she was going to start trembling. If that happened, she would likely never stop until the storm passed.
That fear compelled her out of the room and into the halls, where the sounds of angry rain seemed a lot less violent. It was calmer there, and she found her feet carrying her in the direction of Arran’s rooms without thinking. She had only been there once before, when Sophie had insisted on giving her a tour one afternoon. Still, her feet carried her there like they had a mind of their own.
Every corner that she turned had her jumping at shadows, and every crack of thunder made her feel like she was crawling out of her skin. When she arrived at his room, so dazed with terror that she walked in without bothering to knock, she did not see him at first. He was not in his bed, and Victoria felt a moment of panic… that swiftly turned to something else as she spotted him at last.
Oh goodness…
He was in the bath.
A large wooden tub with tendrils of steam curling up over the edges. Arran’s large arms were sprawled out to either side of him, his hair undone and hanging over the edge of the tub as he rested. He did not so much as look up when he heard somebody come barging into the room, nor did he bother to take the damp cloth off his eyes for a long moment.
How can he relax at a time like this?
She was about to call him out for how undignified the whole thing was when it registered that he was nude. Naked. And she remembered thatshehad barged intohisroom.
A large, very muscular naked man was directly in front of her. She might have burst into flames on the very spot from embarrassment alone. Victoria clapped her hands over her eyes, let out a squeaked gasp, and whirled around so that she was not facing the tub for a moment longer. She had not seen much, but she had seen enough. Enough to set her imagination spinning into a storm of its own.
Only then did she hear the sound of water swirling around the tub, Arran shifting position.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Arran said, amusement clear in his voice. “Nae the unpleasant kind.”
Even though he had been avoiding her for over a week now, he still managed to speak so casually to her, as if no time had passed whatsoever.
What would it be like to be in that same tub with him? What would she do if he pulled her in there with him, holding her against his wet, firm body? The water would soak through her night things and robe so quickly that it would feel as if there were almost no layers between them at all. Heat pooled lower as she remembered exactly what it was like to feel his touch on her in such an intimate way.
She really ought to be ashamed of herself. She was headed straight for eternal damnation for how much she missed feeling his arms on her. Then again, if she could not stop this man from killing Charles, she was probably headed there anyway. So, why not ruin herself some more?
“Dare I ask what has brought ye to my rooms at such an hour?” Arran asked. He was all the way across the room, and yet it sounded as if he were standing directly behind her.
“The storm,” she blurted, knowing full well that it sounded absolutely pathetic.
Her mind was fuzzy with distraction. Was this a mistake? It did not feel like one, but it was undoing all the work that they had done in keeping apart. She was just so tired of feeling helpless. Of course, it was the storm tonight, and nobody could be so arrogant as to think that there was a way for them to outmaneuver a storm, but it was the helpless feeling that was really sticking with her.
“I… I was thinking…” she began again.
“About me late at night? Lass, I’m flattered,” Arran teased, but she stomped her foot to force him to be silent.
“No! I was wondering if you meant what you said about training Ruby to fight. Do women here actually learn how to be in… combat situations and such?” she rambled, hoping that she was making any semblance of sense whatsoever.
“Erm, aye? Some of the best warriors that I have ever seen happen to be women. They are faster than I could ever hope to be. Why do ye ask?”
“I… I would like you to teach me how to fight… at least I think that I would like that very much,” Victoria blurted.
It had been on her mind for a while, increasing with the potential threat of Charles’ reappearance in her life.
She couldfeelthe curiosity rolling from the man behind her in waves as he said, “Is that so?”
Slowly, Victoria started to lower her hands away from her face, but she did not yet feel quite brave enough to turn around.
“Whether he comes for me, or I have to go back eventually…” Victoria struggled to get the next words out, but she did not even need to, for Arran spoke over her, his voice so firm and certain that it sent a shudder down her spine.
“I willnae let him near ye,” Arran said slowly, and the threat was clear.
“Arran, please. Be realistic. You cannot always be there to protect me, and you cannot predict how this will unfold.” Victoria wanted to sound confident and assertive. But she found her voice breaking as she whispered the last few words, “Please. I wish to feel safe…”
Only then did she risk a glance over her shoulder to the handsome man watching her from across the room.
He nodded once, his expression firm but resolute. “I can understand that, lass.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded once again. “Meet me in the gardens in ten minutes.”
