Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Marian could not sleep.
She lay awake in bed for most of the night, replaying the events of the past evening over and over in her head.
Many times, she caught herself trying to reenact it. Her fingers curled around her arms in the same places Lachlan’s hands had been, pressing slightly as though that would summon the memories back to life.
I cannot allow this.
She turned onto her side, then onto her back again. Her blankets twisted with every one of her movements, and a frustrated sigh slipped past her lips as she pushed them off in an attempt to free herself from the heaviness she felt.
Her thoughts refused to quiet.
She stared at the high ceiling of her chamber for a moment, memories of that encounter flooding her mind again.
I am a lady. I cannot have these thoughts.
She closed her eyes for a moment to see if that would help, but it only made it worse.
Her breath caught as the memory sharpened instead of fading—the way his breath tickled her skin and how his hand nearly fisted in her hair as though he’d been fighting it too.
She exhaled sharply, slipping out of bed in resignation.
Her feet padded across the stone floor as she began to pace her room, her hands clasped together in front of her, rubbing each other ever so slightly.
She came to a stop at the small window, pushing it open to let in the cold, morning air. It was barely dawn, so she stared into the dark, her eyes catching the faint glimmer of the glen for a moment.
It is peaceful…
The door to the adjoining room creaked open, and she stilled.
“Lilly?”
She turned around to see her maid, whose face was already drawn in worry.
“My Lady…” Lilly said gently, stopping at the window next to her. “I heard footsteps.” Her eyes searched Marian’s face, her shoulders dropping slightly as she murmured, “You look like you barely had a wink of sleep.”
Marian sighed softly. She knew it was true. Her bones ached with exhaustion, but she could hardly get herself to relax, not with thoughts of Lachlan plaguing her mind.
She nodded. “Perhaps I might need something to occupy my time,” she said, leaning back against the window frame as she turned to face Lilly fully. “A suitable distraction.”
Her maid’s brow furrowed deeper. “But my Lady…” Her voice was almost a whine. “You need to regain your energy through rest, or you might fall ill. The last few days have been strenuous.”
Marian gave a little shrug, turning back to look out the window. “Well, it happens that I cannot,” she said, her voice nearly as quiet as a whisper. “I have tried all night, and I cannot continue to rot in bed. Not for a moment longer.”
Lilly’s hands fell to her sides. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
Marian stepped away from the window and went to pull open the chest that held most of her clothes. “I reckon I should study.”
“You do not need that, my Lady.” Lilly followed her. “It will only give you eye bags.”
Marian shook her head. She had already found her distraction, and now there was no changing her mind.
“I certainly do,” she said, heading toward the door. “If I am to someday run this place, I should best put my time to good use and learn.”
“It does not matter,” Marian muttered under her breath as she pushed open the door to the library.
She raised her chin as she entered, her steps light on the cold stone floor.
It is just a library.
And yet, her pulse betrayed her, quickening with each step further into the room.
She held her torch tighter, fighting to avoid glancing at the area where she and Lachlan had shared that kiss.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her cheeks reddened, heating up faster than she could even try to force the feelings away.
Good heavens.
She released a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding, stealing a quick glance at the shelves before straightening again.
Oh my…
Her eyes fell to the floor near the shelves, and she immediately noticed the scattered books.
“What has happened here?” A frown creased her face.
She hung her torch on the wall near the entrance and bent down to pick up the books.
Lachlan would never have left the room in such disarray.
Her fingers trailed over the spine of the last book, and she stood up, immediately developing an interest in it. It was just the sort of thing she needed to learn more about the Highlands—a ledger.
She placed it on the table closest to the entrance, the dim light from her torch illuminating its pages as she flipped through them.
Her eyes widened as she reached the most recent pages.
“Not a dime recorded in the last two quarters?” she murmured to herself, her voice flattening in disappointment.
What is Lachlan up to?
Her curiosity was piqued.
She fetched the torch from where she’d hung it and held it closer to the ledger to read more. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she turned another page.
I shall get to the bottom of it.
A creak sounded at the far end of the library, and she stiffened, straightening slowly with the torch in her hand.
What could that be?
Her heart thumped in her chest, growing louder as the noise persisted. She took a nervous step forward, holding out the torch to see farther into the dark space ahead.
The sound suddenly stopped.
Perhaps it is the cat.
Her heart calmed for a moment, but her grip barely loosened on the torch.
I do not know that yet.
“Mossie?”
The torch’s flames obscured her vision as she took another step forward, and she looked around frantically.
“Moss—”
“Who in the devil is Mossie?” a man murmured from the shadows.
Marian jumped, nearly scorching herself with the flames. Her eyelashes fluttered from panic.
“Show yourself,” she commanded, raising her voice.
She held the torch with both hands now, ready to wield it as a weapon if need be, despite the tremors in her fingers.
A scoff sounded in the distance, followed by a few steady footsteps.
Marian turned in the direction of the sound just as it stopped again, the room going still except for the loud thumping of her heart.
“I can hear you,” she called, her voice quivering slightly. “Show yourself now, or I’ll call for the Laird.”
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
She glanced toward the door, gauging the distance to it.
Perhaps I should run. Or scream.
“And how do ye intend to do that?” the man in the shadows asked, louder this time.
Her eyebrows rose. The voice sounded familiar, but in an odd manner, as though whoever was speaking had made an effort to alter it.
Is it perhaps… Lachlan?
Marian shook her head, her eyebrows drawing together.
He cannot be so petty.
“It is best you stop hiding,” she said finally, hoping for the love of God that whoever it was would finally listen and step out of the shadows.
A dry laugh sounded through the library, and her shoulders squared.
“I am a guest of the Laird,” she added quickly. “Best you conduct yourself with care.”
“And perhaps ye should conduct yerself like a proper guest, Mairi,” the man said. “Quit roamin’ me castle.”
He stepped slowly into the light, and her eyes widened at once.
“Lachlan?” Relief flooded her chest so quickly that it almost angered her. Her cheeks immediately turned scarlet. “How long have you been watching me?”
“’Tis me Laird for ye,” he said in a bitter tone. “And I daenae report me movements to ye.”
Marian’s chest tightened, the words landing harder than they should have. A breath escaped her lips.
She took a step back as he stepped closer to her, the vast library suddenly shrinking around them.
“Apologies, my Laird.” She bent her head slightly.
Lachlan removed the torch from her hand, his fingers barely touching hers.
The brief contact sent a sharp jolt of awareness through her, almost impossible to ignore, and she straightened again, holding her chin up.
He leaned in slightly to peruse the book on the table, and she watched him, holding her hands together as her thumb grazed the area he’d touched.
“Ye were lookin’ through me ledgers?” he asked, glaring at her.
His scar was bold under the torchlight, and her fingers ached to reach out and trace it.
Marian hesitated, then nodded slightly, refusing to look away.
“Why?” Lachlan straightened, shutting the book with a loud thud.
Because I could not sleep.
“I… I would like to study,” she said, finally breaking eye contact. Her fingers knotted around each other.
“Study?” Lachlan scoffed, his scent enveloping her as he moved past her to the shelves. He tucked the ledger back in the uppermost shelf, beyond her reach. “Ye think ye can learn to run me estate through books?”
Marian raised her eyebrows, her shoulders squaring at the condescension in his tone. “My estate,” she countered, her voice steadying. “And whatever is wrong with books?”
Lachlan huffed, leaning forward so that his face was now at the same level as hers. He studied her for a moment before responding.
“Highland women daenae run estates through ledgers,” he sneered.
Marian felt a shiver run down her spine.
She held the corner of the table, her fingers nearly drilling through the wood in her attempt to still herself. She looked at Lachlan sharply, her jaw tightening even as she struggled to fight back a blush.
Then, suddenly, an idea came to her.
“A fellow Englishwoman has recently married in the Highlands,” she said. “I would like to visit her today.”
Lachlan straightened, his eyebrow rising slightly. “And who would that be?” he asked, his skepticism immediately evident in his tone.
Marian nearly rolled her eyes. “Lady Anna Murray,” she replied evenly. “I knew her in London. She lives with her husband, Laird Hugh Murray.”
Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. “I ken the Murray lands,” he said slowly. “And I’ve heard the man is a fair laird.” His frown had not subsided.
Does he not believe me?
His gaze sharpened slightly, as if to answer her thought. “But ye expect me to believe this is merely a friendly visit?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Marian crossed her arms. His question should have angered her, but it did not. She considered playing into his suspicion for a moment before deciding against it, relaxing her posture ever so slightly.
“I wish to see how a castle is managed,” she replied, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Surely that does not threaten your authority, my Laird?”
Lachlan exhaled softly before muttering, “I daenae trust ye to travel alone.”
Her lips parted slightly.
I expected the flattery to work.
Marian met his eyes squarely, a small frown forming on her face. “I do not need your permission,” she said defiantly.
His mouth twitched faintly. “Good. Because ye’re nae gettin’ it.”
“You cannot—”
“But I will ride with ye.”
Marian’s breath caught. She had expected him to forbid her from going entirely, not this.
“Fine,” she said, though her voice came out softer than she’d intended.
Lachlan’s eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary, and her heart flipped. But now, it had nothing to do with being startled in the dark.