Page 49 of When the Laird Claims
He swallowed hard and waited for her to continue speaking.
“I do not mean to interrupt, but you left so suddenly, and well, Kristin and I were–”
“Ah, of course.”
It made sense. She was likely nervous about what was going to happen.
“Could I perhaps read the letter?” Victoria asked, and Arran nodded to where the letter was still sitting open on the corner of his desk.
She picked it up and glossed over the contents that were written there quickly, more than once, before setting it down with a slightly trembling hand.
“I daenae wish ye to trouble yerself now,” Arran said as he scooted forward in his chair slightly. “If ye daenae wish to see him at all, then ye daenae have to.”
“It is not that,” Victoria started. “Well, I suppose that it is a little bit that.”
“Nothin’ will happen to ye, ye have me word,” Arran said seriously, and she finally exhaled a shaky breath.
“I do not think that I put any time into thinking about what it might be like to be in the same room as him again.”
With the apprehensive look on Victoria’s face, it was hard to keep himself from reaching out and taking her hand. It would have been all too simple to pull her right into his lap so that he might offer her some sort of comfort. But he knew that he had removed that privilege from himself.
“If he dares to put a finger on ye, I will remove his hand,” Arran said, with complete and perfect seriousness.
Victoria held his gaze, and for a long moment, it looked like tears threatened to well in her eyes as she looked at him. He would have given just about anything to be able to read her mind just this once.
“So… you haven’t changed your mind about what you need to do?”
Arran’s brow furrowed, and it took him a long moment to understand just what it was that she meant.
“Lass… I cannae run the risk of allowin’ him to harm another woman,” he answered. Surely she understood that by now. “He deserves a great deal more than just one death, but I will do what I must.”
“But you do not have to commitmurder, Arran,” Victoria said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “I had thought that maybe, after all of our time together, that perhaps you would have changed your mind.”
He simply didn’t see things in the same way that she did.
“How can ye not see that this is needed?” Arran answered, attempting to remain as calm as he possibly could. “Do ye really think that if he is allowed to continue his behavior, that he’ll be properly held accountable for what he has done?”
Victoria paused. She still did not seem to have an answer for that.
“Everythin’ that I’ve heard of yer ways is that men like him will throw coin at a problem and then continue to do the same thing,” he went on. “How are ye nae proof of that? He will get ye back, and then what? Ye claim to be worried about yer family reputation, but how will his being alive to slander ye further help yer cause?”
Victoria’s chin dimpled. Clearly that wasn’t the answer that she was looking for. She bit down on her bottom lip in an effort not to cry. “I do not think that this is a line that I can have you cross, Arran.”
“I appreciate that ye are kind, lass,” Arran said, attempting to be levelheaded, when all he felt was anger. “How can ye look at the scars on yer wrists, and the pain in my sister’s eyes, and still hold fast to yer misguided sense of morals?”
Victoria blanched as if his words were too sharp. “I… worry for your soul, Arran. And mine. Killing is killing, even when there is… perceived justification.”
He didn’t like the way that sounded coming from her. It was something that he certainly did not want to hear.
“My soul?” He frowned. “I’m a warrior, lass. If what ye say is true, then my soul must be black as tar already.”
“No… no, it is not. You are… good and you are kind, and… and this is different from a battle,” she replied, visibly floundering a little. “This is… not killing, but murder. I do not want you to do it, Arran.”
He expelled a strained breath. “Would ye rather that Kristin did it? Would that appease ye in some way? Does it have to be the wronged party who delivers the sentence?”
“Heavens, no!” she gasped, her hand to her heart. “I do not want anyone to do it! Just… imprison him. You have dungeons. Keep him there. Kristin would agree to it; I am sure.”
“Kristin didnaeagree to it. I asked when ye suggested it last,” Arran countered, though he neglected to add that his sister had almost broken down in tears at the very thought of that man being in the same keep as her and her daughter.
