Page 65 of When the Laird Claims
With a final wave to the others standing back, Victoria got into the carriage and closed the door. Yet, even as the carriage pulled away, she looked through the window at the keep and the courtyard, willing Arran to appear so she might have one last look at his face. But Arran did not come, and soon enough, MacLeon Keep disappeared entirely.
“They seem like very nice people,” her father said through gritted teeth as he shifted on the squabs. “I should have liked to get to know them better.”
Victoria swallowed thickly. “Theyarevery nice people, but we have so much to attend to. We cannot tarry here any longer, though I’m sorry to have rushed you out in your condition. Still, as I said to the healer, I am certain that being in your own bed will do you the world of good.”
“Oh, I should like my bed,” her father sighed, resting his head against the top edge of the velvet squabs. “Yes, I should like that very much. Indeed, I hope I never have to travel any great distance again.”
Victoria nodded, though she did not voice her agreement. How could she, when she did not feel it? As frightening as things had been at times, she knew she had just experienced the first—and likely last—adventure of her life. Once she was back at home, back in society, she doubted she would ever have another adventure again, unless it were in the pages of her beloved books.
Worst of all, she would neverfeelwhat Arran had made her feel again. She would never be kissed like that, touched like that, worshiped like that, her body experiencing intense pleasures that she had never known about before. Lightning never struck twice in the same place.
Back to England. Back to my old life.
Nothing had ever felt more dreadful.
30
She would be gone by now, on her way to the border. Arran was not exactly sure what time Victoria had meant to leave today, but then he did not know what time it was at all; he had been in his study for so long, seeking solace in his whisky bottle, that the hours had all sort of blurred together.
“There’ll be another war to distract me soon enough,” he mumbled to himself, tossing an apple core into the fire. It was all he had managed to eat when his stomach was in tangles, thinking about Victoria’s departure.
“Aye, someone will lead a skirmish in one of me faither’s territories, I’ll have to go and fight, and I’ll have nay time to even think about her,” he told himself more firmly. “Ye cannae be thinkin’ about lasses when yer life is at stake.”
The trouble was, he no longer wanted to go to war. Being with Victoria had shown him what life could be like if he had someone to come home to — someone waiting at the gates for his return,someone who might beg him not to go at all. She was the only person who could have made him reconsider the fight, to choose words of compromise and peace over bloodshed, and to let go of land he had never truly cared for.
I’m nae my faither. I daenae care if I hold more territory than anyone else. I care for my clan, aye, but half the people on me lands are nae my clan folk.He was tired of constantly fighting for nothing when disputes and battles invariably popped up again. Conquered people did not favor their conqueror; it only bred rebellion, and he was beginning to wonder if he ought to just give back what his father had taken.
“Would that be proof enough that I’m nae a bloodthirsty monster?” he muttered, his jaw clenched.
How could Victoria be so blind to his true nature? How could she accuse him of being a cold-blooded killer who ended lives on a whim? It twisted him up in knots to be so misunderstood by someone that he cared for… very much. It did not help that he had tried his best to explain himself, and it had not made a jot of difference; if anything, he had a feeling he had made her opinion of him even worse.
“Well, go,” he sniffed, speaking as if she were right there before him. “Go on back to yer fancy society and its fickle judgment. It makes nay difference to me. It’s nae as if ye owe me anythin’.”
He knocked back another glug of whisky, but the burn of it no longer had the same effect as it usually did. Try as he might, he felt completely and infuriatingly sober.
The study door burst open, his hand instinctively reaching for his broadsword.
“I hope ye’re nae thinkin’ of using that,” Kristin said, eyebrow arched.
Arran relaxed his grip on the pommel and sank back into his armchair, the crackling fire warming the soles of his bare feet. “Ye ken ye’re supposed to knock, aye?”
“When have I ever bothered to knock?”
He mustered a tight laugh. “Aye, ye’ve a point there.” He paused. “Are they gone?”
“Ye’d ken for yerself if ye’d been there,” Kristin retorted. “I told ye what time they were departin’. Why were ye nae there? Last I spoke to ye, ye said ye’d think about it.”
He nodded, considering another sip of his whisky but deciding against it. There was no point if it was not going to erase all memory of Victoria, at least temporarily.
“And ye, of all people, ought to ken that ‘I’ll think about it’ means I’m nae going to.”
Kristin scowled at him. “I ken we’ve had some choice words between us over the years, braither, but I never thought a day would come where I’d have to call ye an idiot. A true and properidiot. The biggest idiot to wander the face of the earth. I daenae ken if I’ve met a bigger idiot than ye.”
“Are ye finished?” he asked dryly.
“Nay, actually.” She stepped further into the room, awkwardly covering Ruby’s ears, though the child was fast asleep. “I think ye’ll regret it for the rest of yer life if ye stay right there, sat on yer arse, doin’ nothin’. I think ye’re a bloody fool for nae showin’ up to say farewell to Victoria, but I think ye’re a bigger fool for nae chasin’ after her. Ye’re goin’ to lose her, braither.”
He laughed bitterly. “Ye cannae lose what ye never had, Kristin. She doesnae want me. Never did. I was an amusement to her until I wasnae. Now, she gets to return to her neat little life in England, where nay one ever has to make difficult choices, apparently.”
