Page 67 of When the Laird Claims
Her hand flew to her mouth instead of his chin, her eyes widening in horror.
“Arran?” she squeaked.
He bent at the waist, one hand up in a gesture of surrender. “Aye, lass… what’s left of me, anyway.”
“Why didn’t you announce yourself?” she cried, pulling his hood back to reveal his long, dark hair. She could not, however, see hishandsome face, considering his stance. “Why are you wearing a hood, for goodness’ sake?”
She was aware that she should be apologizing instead of defending her actions, making herself look like something of a hypocrite, but she was too shocked by his presence to think straight. What was he doing here?
“This cloak… was the first I could find,” he replied, puffing out breath after strained breath. “I forgot about the hood. Who did ye think it was, if nae me?”
“I do not know!” she said, exasperated. “I thought you might be a mercenary or a highwayman or… I do not know what I thought. When someone grabs you from your carriage with his face covered, you do not really think at all.”
He glanced up at her, a glint of something like amusement in his eyes—behind the pain, at least. “Ye learned yer lessons well. I’d be proud of ye if ye hadnae made me eyes water.” He coughed. “Give me a moment and I’ll congratulate ye.”
“Who is it?” Victoria’s father called from inside the carriage.
“It is Laird MacLeon,” Victoria replied, her heart fluttering at the fact that he was actually there.
He had not been willing to just let her leave, after all.
Although…
“Why are you here?” she asked him. “Why were you not there to say farewell to me?”
He slowly drew up to his towering height, his pained expression relaxing into a sad smile as his hand lifted to cradle her cheek. “Is it truly nae obvious?”
She shook her head. There were hopes and daydreams in her heart, of course, but she had rather recently discovered that fantasies were for books; they rarely came to life.
“Aye, that’s what Neil and Kristin said,” he muttered as he huffed out a weary sigh. “Because I couldnae bear to watch ye go, lass. Because I wanted ye to stay with me, and I kent ye were keen to leave. Although it’s come to me attention that maybe that isnae the full truth.”
She swallowed thickly. “I… do not know if I understand.”
“I cannae tell if ye’re being deliberately stubborn,” he said with a laugh, his thumb brushing the apple of her cheek. “I love ye, lass. I ken ye daenae agree with the things I’ve done, but that’s why I did them—because I love ye. I’d do anythin’ to keep ye safe because I love ye, and, aye, that’s an exception to yer notion that ye cannae risk everythin’ and everyone for just one person. Ye can, if ye love them the way that I love ye.”
A soft gasp slipped from her lips, passing through the splayed fingers that still covered her mouth. “You… love me?”
“Aye, lass, I do,” he replied, chuckling in the back of his throat. “It might nae be a bond between sisters, but I hope ye can forgive me actions considerin’ it was done because of a bond of love. That’s nae so different, maybe?”
It was not very different at all. Victoria would move heaven and earth if it meant protecting her sister from harm; it had been that way ever since they lost their mother. Rather, Victoria had just donned the mantle that her mother had left behind, forshewould have razed towns to the ground to keep her daughters safe; such was the ferocity of her love for them.
“So, will ye stop being oblivious and bloody well stay with me, eh?” Arran said, with a glitter of warmth in his eyes. And perhaps, a touch of fear that she might reject him.
“But–”
“Melody is welcome here,” he said before she could finish, preempting her arguments. “Any trouble ye have with society can be remedied by me. Kristin has given her permission for her story to be told, but even without that, there are ways to smooth the ruffled feathers all of this may have caused. Even in yer world, duels must carry weight.”
Victoria chewed her lower lip in consternation. “Technically, they are forbidden, but yes, they carry weight. No gentleman would question the outcome, for there is an unspoken sort of understanding surrounding such things.” She paused. “I planned to tellmystory and frame it as a duel to protect you.”
“We can discuss the details back at the keep,” he said softly. “If ye’ll just come with me. Unless, of course, ye still have a reason nae to. Speak it, and I’ll let ye go without another word.”
He loves me.Victoria still could not wrap her thoughts around those words, for they were beyond anything she had ever dreamed for herself. They were a fantasy that did not exist in the real world.Hewas that fantasy. Was she actually dreaming? The brush of his thumb across her cheek seemed to suggest this was entirely real, but still she hesitated.
“I am afraid,” she whispered.
“Of what, love?” He cradled her cheek, so tender she wanted to cry.
“I am afraid that if I stay, I may get everything I have ever wanted,” she replied, her heart swelling in her chest. “I am afraid that I might wake up from this dream to find myself back in Charles Rowley’s prison, and you are just a figment, crafted from all the books I have ever read. I am afraid that if I tell you how much I love you, too, I will be so happy that I will not be able to breathe.”
