Page 24 of When the Laird Claims
It was phrased as a question, but it did not feel much like one.
What choice did she have? He was the Laird, and she was his guest. She had no choice but to comply with his wishes.
That was what she was going to tell herself later, anyway. She was not going to acknowledge the butterflies that took flight in her stomach, or any of the excitement.
The sun was slowly starting to set behind the castle as they made their way around to where she had correctly presumed the kitchen was earlier. She could already smell whatever heavenly concoction they were making for supper. It was going to be a most welcome change from all the stews and dried meats that they had been eating on the road, though she had made a point of not being fussy.
Why does he not look at me anymore?
Arran was kind enough to slow his pace enough, so that she did not have to jog to keep up with him, his gaze fixed ahead. She did not fully understandwhyit was so important to her to have himreallylook at her, but it was.
Does he truly regret our kiss that much, that he cannot even hold my gaze? Did I do it so terribly wrong?
It was not a question she dared to actually ask.
So, they walked in semi-comfortable silence around the edge of his property, and she found herself wondering what it must have been like to have grown up here. She could imagine him as a child, running around and training. Did the children here have more freedom than she had had growing up? She could only imagine what she might have done with this much space to run around and play with Melody instead of being cooped up with their tutors all the time.
Her imagination was cut short when the majestic, jagged cliffs of the coast came into view, the sea glittering to the horizon.A sparse coppice of trees looked like the welcome party at the gates, staring out in anticipation of their loved ones’ return. There was a small opening in the trees where she could imagine that a picnic would be nice, a single fraying rope hanging from one of the extended lower branches of a tree. A large boulder had been placed underneath it as what she presumed was a jumping-off spot.
There was seemingly no end to the differences in their upbringing.
In the distance, the sun was starting to lower in the sky, casting a pretty glow of pinks and oranges over the sea’s sparkling surface. Arran guided them toward the spot that she presumed would be nice for a picnic and sat heavily on the ground. He looked different out here, softer somehow. Perhaps it was the beautiful colors that were really bringing out the green in his eyes.
“So… will ye tell me now?” Arran asked simply.
Victoria contemplated for a long moment whether she was truly ready to have this conversation. Why now? What had made him suddenly decide that this was so important to him? But there was certainly no harm in explaining herself, she supposed.
She sighed, smoothed her skirts down around her legs, and slowly sat down beside him.
“I was willing to marry him because… I was persuaded it would be of benefit to my family,” she began. “And once I was in hisclutches, it was too late to undo my decision. I was in the lion’s den already, although… I did try to escape.”
Absently, she rubbed gentle circles against her wrists, remembering the surging thrill of running through the manor gardens and out of the back gate, sprinting toward lights in the distance, toward freedom… and the crushing terror when Charles had caught up to her, dragging her back to her prison.
“I thought he would kill me,” she mumbled, more to herself than to him. “Any disobedience after that was met with immediate punishment, and his creativity for violence knew no bounds.”
Arran bristled, a muscle feathering in his jaw, the blaze of a simmering anger sparking in his eyes. “So, yecouldnaeescape it.”
“In more ways than one,” she admitted. “Even if I had managed to break free of that manor, I would have been taken back to him. He was… of benefit, as I said. He offered to have me without a dowry. No other gentleman would have done that, and my father could not afford a different option.”
“If I could kill him twice, I would,” Arran seethed, his hand moving as if he meant to touch Victoria, but he withdrew it at the last moment.
Expelling a strained breath, she shook her head, realizing that no matter what she said, Arran would not agree with her perspective. In truth, she probably sounded mad for notsupporting his desire to kill Charles, but… it simply did not sit right on her conscience.
This keep must have dungeons. And it would not be the first time someone has gone missing in the Highlands of Scotland.There had been a story in the papers not so long ago about a gentleman who had vanished while on a stag hunt. Maybe, Charles could vanish too.Thatwas the sort of revenge that she could bear. Then again, would it be fair to Kristin, to have to live in the same place as that beast?
“I…” She opened her mouth to start to speak, but the words did not want to come to her. How was she supposed to explain something like this to him? “The Earl has… a lot of power in London society. To say the least. If he knew that harm was headed his way… he would lash out.”
“And?”
Of course, he still did not understand. Arran likely solved all of his problems with his sword.
Victoria fiddled nervously with the skirt of her dress. “He has the power to ruin me, my whole family. It would not even take much from him. I am not sure if he has already started to slander our name.”
“Ruin?” Arran echoed, wearing a puzzled frown. “How?”
Victoria bit her bottom lip, more to give herself a moment to compose herself than anything else. “Well, my father… he is unwell. He has made some… mistakes. Never mind my poor sister; she shall be scorned. She would end up on the streets. My sister is a sweet girl; she has never done anything to anyone.”
There was a very good chance that she was rambling now. Her chest was starting to feel too tight. What if Melody had not made it to her friend’s house? What if Charles had somehow found her, or something else had happened to her?
