Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
An hour later, they lay upon the bedroll, side by side, the earth cool beneath the blankets and the heavens stretched endless above them.
Arianna kept her hands folded upon her stomach, though she was keenly aware of Ian’s shoulder close to hers.
The sky was a velvet black, scattered with stars so sharp and bright they seemed near enough to pluck from the air.
The moon hung full and luminous, bathing the clearing in silver light, and she knew without asking that this was why he had brought her here.
“It’s bonnie,” she murmured at last, her voice hushed as though the night might hear. “I’ve never seen the stars so clear.”
Ian shifted slightly beside her, propping his head upon his arm. “Aye, the smoke of hearths cannae reach us here. ’Tis just us and the sky.”
She turned her head to look at him, her hair spilling across the blanket. “Thank ye for bringing me, Ian,” she said softly. “I ken it was to impress me with this view.”
“So ye’ve guessed me grand design, have ye?”
“I have,” she replied, a smile curving her lips. “Ye wished to dazzle me with the heavens.” He arched a brow. “Was it worth falling into a hole for?”
She huffed and lightly struck his arm. “I didnae fall on purpose, ye ken.”
“I ken,” he said. “Though I must admit, ye being in me arms had a certain charm.”
She rolled her eyes but could not keep the smile from her face. “If that was yer aim, ye might have contrived a less painful scheme.”
Silence settled between them once more, though it was no longer awkward. Arianna let her gaze drift back to the stars, her thoughts turning inward.
There's only one outing left after this, one more excursion. After that, he will claim his rights as me husband.
The knowledge sent a flutter through her belly that was equal parts dread and anticipation.
She swallowed, her fingers curling slightly in the blanket.
She feared the unknown, the closeness, the surrender of control.
Yet when she thought of Ian’s hands, steady, strong, yet ever gentle with her, heat crept into her cheeks despite the cool night air.
She was nervous, yes, but she was curious too, and that curiosity thrummed quietly beneath her ribs.
She sensed him move and glanced over as his hand reached toward the satchel near his hip.
“What are ye about now?” she asked, lifting herself slightly on one elbow. “Have ye another surprise hidden away?”
He made a thoughtful sound as he rummaged. “Just a wee after-dinner refreshment, me Lady.”
He withdrew two small goblets of pewter and a flask of dark wine, the metal catching the moonlight.
Arianna’s lips curved despite herself. “Ye think of everything,” she said.
He shrugged lightly. “I daenae wish me wife to accuse me of neglect.”
He poured the wine carefully, handing her a goblet before lifting his own.
“To the woods of these beautiful lands,” he said, raising it toward the treetops.
Arianna tilted her head, watching him with fond amusement. “Our lands,” she corrected gently.
He turned to her then, his expression shifting from jest to something deeper.
“Aye,” he said, his voice low and certain. “Our lands, lass.” The words wrapped around her like the blanket beneath them, steady and warm.
They touched goblets and drank, the wine rich and sweet upon her tongue. Arianna felt the warmth of it spread through her chest, easing the tightness she had not realized she carried. She studied his profile as he swallowed, the strong line of his jaw softened by moonlight.
“Ye speak of them as though they are already mine, even though I have yet to produce ye an heir,” she said quietly.
“They are,” he answered without hesitation. “What is mine is yers, Arianna.”
Her heart gave a small, startled leap at the simplicity of it. “Even the troublesome bits?” she teased, though her voice trembled faintly.
“Especially those,” he replied. “I’ve faced worse than troublesome.”
“Now I see ye looking at me as though ye’re weighing whether I’m worth the trouble,” he said.
Her lips parted in surprise. “And are ye?” she challenged.
He leaned closer, close enough that she could feel his breath brush her cheek. “I intend to be.”
Her pulse quickened at the nearness, and she had to fight the urge to close the small space between them. The night seemed to narrow to the sound of their breathing and the faint rustle of leaves overhead.
“Ye are bold,” she whispered.
“Only when I must be,” he replied softly.
She lay back once more, staring up at the moon as though it might steady her. “I daenae ken what awaits us,” she admitted. “After the last outing.”
His hand brushed lightly against hers, not grasping, merely resting close enough to promise.
Her fingers inched toward his until they touched.
The contact was slight, almost accidental, yet it sent a thrill through her that was far stronger than the wine.
She smiled into the darkness, her heart aching with a yearning she no longer wished to deny.
Above them, the stars burned bright and unyielding, silent witnesses to promises unspoken yet deeply felt.
Arianna closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of Ian’s breathing beside her.
Whatever waited beyond the final outing, she knew she would step toward it with both fear and longing.
And as his hand finally curled fully around hers, she felt that perhaps longing might win.
Arianna felt the shift in the air before he even spoke. Ian rose from the bedroll, and looked down at her with a steady expression.
“Well,” he said, voice low and certain, “’tis time for bed. The tent will shield us from the morning dew.”
Her stomach fluttered at once, and she pushed herself up upon her elbows. “Oh,” she said, striving for lightness and failing a little, “in the tent? Just the two of us?”
The moonlight caught the corner of his mouth as it curved into a smirk.
“Unless ye wish to sleep out here alone with all the night creatures,” he replied mildly, glancing toward the dark line of trees.
A distant rustle seemed to answer him, and Arianna’s eyes widened despite herself. “No, no,” she said quickly, scrambling for composure, “I’ll sleep in the tent.”
He stepped closer without another word and bent to scoop her into his arms as though she weighed no more than a bundle of potatoes. A soft gasp escaped her before she could stop it, and her hands flew to his shoulders for balance.
“Ian,” she whispered, half scandalized and half thrilled, “ye could at least warn a body.”
“Where would be the sport in that?” he murmured, carrying her toward the tent with infuriating ease. She could feel the strength in him, solid and unyielding, and her pulse thudded against her ribs. “I am nae a sack of oats,” she muttered.
“Nay,” he agreed, ducking inside the tent, “ye are far more stubborn.”
He set her gently upon the bedroll within, arranging the blanket about her legs with surprising care. The interior smelled faintly of canvas and smoke, the air close but warmer than outside.
He straightened and turned to secure the flaps, tying them firmly so the night breeze would not steal their warmth. Arianna watched him in silence, aware of the sudden intimacy of the small space. The world beyond the canvas seemed distant now, reduced to faint sounds and shifting shadows.
Ian crouched near the entrance and tugged off his boots, setting them neatly aside. Arianna’s gaze followed the deliberate movements of his hands, and she swallowed. He looked up at her then, catching her staring, and one brow lifted in quiet amusement.
“Daenae tell me ye’ve never seen a man remove his boots afore,” he said dryly. “I have,” she replied quickly, though her voice lacked conviction. “I simply didnae ken it was such a spectacle.”
He moved closer, kneeling at her feet. “Hold still,” he instructed gently, his hands closing around her ankle with care. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple through her, and she fought the urge to draw in a sharp breath.
He eased off her boots slowly, mindful of her earlier injury, and set them beside his own. When he straightened, his eyes lingered on her a fraction too long. There was hunger there, unmistakable and unguarded, and it made her throat go dry.
She gulped and clutched the blanket tighter about her. “Ian,” she began uncertainly.
He leaned nearer, his voice dropping. “Daenae fash yerself, lass,” he said softly. “I will keep me promise.”
The reminder steadied her and unsettled her all at once. She nodded, though her heart hammered wildly. “I ken ye will,” she whispered.
He stretched out beside her, leaving a careful span of space between them. “There now,” he said lightly, folding one arm beneath his head. “Safe as a bairn in her cradle.”
She turned her head to glare at him. “I am nae a bairn,” she protested.
“Then cease tremblin' like one,” he countered, though there was no cruelty in his tone.
She stiffened at once. “I am nae tremblin'.”
“Aye,” he murmured, shifting slightly closer, “ye are.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then realized he was right.
The chill of the night seeped through the canvas despite the shelter, and a shiver ran through her in earnest now.
Ian noticed at once. “Ye’re cold,” he observed.
“I am perfectly…” she began, but her teeth clicked together traitorously. Without another word, he reached for her, drawing her back against his chest. She let out a startled sound as his arm slid around her waist, firm and possessive.
“’Tis only for warmth,” he said near her ear, his breath stirring the fine hairs at her temple. “Unless ye’d rather freeze.”
She hesitated a heartbeat too long. “I wouldnae wish to inconvenience ye,” she said primly.
“Inconvenience me? Lass, ye’ve done little else since I met ye.”
She elbowed him lightly. “Then ye may release me.”
“Nay,” he replied at once, tightening his hold a fraction. “I’ve grown accustomed to the weight of ye.” The words, half-jest and half-confession, stole her breath.
She lay still, acutely aware of every point where they touched. His warmth seeped into her, chasing away the cold far more effectively than the tent had done. “Ye’re very bold in the dark,” she murmured.
“And ye’re very honest in it,” he returned softly.
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Close yer eyes, Arianna.”
She obeyed, though sleep felt distant. “If ye snore,” she warned faintly, “I shall push ye from the bedroll.”
His arm tightened protectively about her waist. “Ye could try,” he said, amusement rumbling low in his chest.
Despite herself, she smiled into the darkness. The steady rise and fall of his breathing gradually matched her own, and the earlier tension ebbed into something gentler. Held securely in his embrace, she found that her nerves softened into quiet anticipation rather than fear.
Outside, the night creatures continued their hidden wanderings, but within the tent, there was only warmth and the whisper of shared breath. Arianna let herself relax fully at last, trusting the strength of the arm around her. And as sleep finally claimed her, she knew she had never felt safer.