Chapter 11
“Victoria!”
Every part of Arran wanted to go after her, but this did not feel like a moment to chase her. She was upset, but if he would not change his mind about the Earl’s fate and she would not change hers, then going after her would only cause friction. Not of the good kind.
Can ye truly nae see why it must be this way?
Ye said ye have a sister; would ye nae do the same for her, if she was in yer position or Kristin’s?
He shook his head as she vanished from sight.
If Kristin could not persuade her, what chance did he have?
After all, Kristin was one of that wronged party too, her honor stolen, living with the consequences of the Earl’s deception and abandonment.
Arran was merely the sword of justice, awaiting the command.
Although, he did have his personal grievances with the man, too.
The Earl had betrayed his trust and the sanctity of guest rights, when Arran had opened his home to him, broken bread with him, shared wine and his table and his keep.
To defile his sister after that generosity: it was unacceptable.
And Arran would deal with it as his people always had.
With a blade.
For ye as much as for Kristin, an earnest voice added in his head. Let me protect ye now, as nay one protected ye before.
After all, if what she had said was true, then the English way clearly did not work.
When Arran arrived at the great hall later that evening, there was an extra seat at the head table, as yet unoccupied. Kristin was already there, Ruby suckling at her breast while she chewed on a piece of bread.
His sister barely glanced up at him when he took his seat.
Whatever liveliness had been present in her eyes outside was gone now.
There was no denying how much it saddened his heart to see her so hollow, day after day.
If only Victoria had known her before, then perhaps he would have seen how shocking this drastic change truly was within her.
“What’s wrong with yer face?” Kristin muttered, finally acknowledging him.
“I could ask the same about ye,” he replied with a forced smile.
She sniffed and returned to her bread, slicking it with butter.
Slowly, his clansmen started to file into the hall, at the same time that all the tables were being laden with food.
“Did yer lass decide nae to join us after all?” Arran’s mother’s voice came from behind him, an almost amused chuckle underlying her words before she took her seat next to Kristin.
“She isnae my lass, and ye ken that,” Arran muttered, reaching for his goblet of wine the moment that it was poured.
But if she were, she wouldnae think twice about an Englishman again.
And I’d get nothin’ done with her to worship.
He swallowed down the heady wine, his blood racing at the thought of Victoria: her lips on his, her body eager and willing in his embrace, only, this time, he would not step away and she would not run.
“Ah, it would appear that his talent for makin’ women run away from him is still intact,” Kristin muttered.
Arran blinked, wondering for a moment if his sister had somehow read his mind… until he realized she was responding to their mother’s question.
Ye need to get her out of yer head. The trouble was, she simply would not leave, popping up without warning, reminding him of that searing kiss. And that vacant chair was not helping.
“Was that a joke?” his mother said with a gladdened smile.
Kristin shrugged. “It was a fact.”
In an instant, Arran’s focus was restored to his family, as he and his mother exchanged an amused, similarly hopeful glance.
Outside of the conversation with Victoria earlier, Kristin had not commented—spoken at all, really—without being directly asked a question first, let alone a mischievous comment like that.
It was the first real indicator that the hellion that she once was, was still inside her somewhere.
It meant that there was hope.
Whatever it was that she and Victoria had spoken about earlier, he owed her for it.
His hand started to tap anxiously on the table as he finished his first glass of wine far too quickly. “I think ye’re right,” he grumbled after some time.
There was still no sign of Victoria anywhere, and he hated it.
“About what?” his mother asked, swallowing a mouthful of venison.
He leaned back in his chair. “She’s nae comin’.”
“Ye should apologize. She’s probably scared,” Kristin chimed in again, handing off her sleeping daughter to her maid before stretching her neck from one side to the other. “After all, ye must be truly concerned if ye are willin’ to admit that ye’re wrong.”
“Two jokes in one dinner?” his mother commented, pressing the back of her hand into her forehead. “Have I fallen ill? Am I hallucinating?”
Kristin merely rolled her eyes and actually nodded to have her food served. She had not eaten a full meal with them in over a month now.
His mind turned back to Victoria, trying to remember the last time that she had eaten. She had taken some breakfast on the ship, he knew, but most of it had ended up in the sand dunes when they landed. And he was not certain she had risked lunch.
He motioned for one of the maids, gesturing to his plate and the untouched place setting beside him. “Have these brought up to Lady Victoria’s room. Put a selection of things on her plate.”
The maid nodded and picked up the two plates before heading back to the kitchen to fulfill the instructions. Clearing his throat, Arran scraped back his chair and stood up… suddenly aware of his mother and sister watching him intently. Ruby, too.
“A picnic in the lass’s room, eh?” Kristin said. “I wonder why I didnae receive an invitation.”
Their mother stifled a laugh behind her hand.
“I just want to make sure she eats something,” he muttered, walking off, keenly aware of their eyes following him out.
It’s just a courtesy, he told himself. It certainly had nothing to do with him being unable to bear the sight of that vacant chair a moment longer, needing it to be filled with Victoria’s exquisite figure. But if she would not come to him, then he had no choice but to go to her.
For a long moment after knocking on Victoria’s door and calling out to her, he wondered if the lack of response meant that she wasn’t actually in her room or if she was just making him squirm.
He supposed he might deserve that.
“Lass?” he called again.
When she still did not answer, he tried the door and found it unlocked. Pushing it wide, he saw her sitting at the small table by the window with the food in front of her. Untouched.
“Of course, you would not take the lack of an answer as a sign to leave a woman alone. It is truly a wonder that I ever believed you to possess manners in the first place,” Victoria groused with a sigh.
“I wanted to–”
“Be certain I had not escaped out of the window, back to England?” she interrupted crisply.
He grumbled under his breath. “Nay, that’s nae it. Ye didnae come down to supper, so…”
Victoria lifted her gaze to him expectantly, but it felt as if she were not expecting much. He had never seen anybody with such an expressive face before.
“…I wanted to see if ye wanted to have dinner with me,” he finished lamely.
“Ah, so that is why there are two plates.” She nodded slowly. “For a moment, I wondered if it was some manner of test, to see if I would eat all of this after that sea voyage robbed me of my appetite and my dignity.”
He could not tell if she was toying with him or not.
“There was nae as much food on the road, I’ll admit, but–”
“I am perfectly comfortable dining alone, thank you,” Victoria said as she sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “Would prefer to, in fact.”
“I wanted to see if ye were all right… and perhaps if ye wanted to talk?” He frowned, unaccustomed to being at such a disadvantage, for he did not have the faintest notion of how to broach the matter that had sent her running earlier.
Victoria’s jaw tightened, and he could see the reluctance in every single part of her features. “What do you wish to talk about, my Laird?”
Arran sighed and sat down across from her. She was using his title instead of his name as some sort of insult; that much he could tell. “Whatever ye wish to tell me? Perhaps more about yer sister… yer family?”
He had wanted to ask her more about her sister earlier, before she fled, to see what he could do to help put her at ease: make inquiries about her sister’s safety, even send some men for her if that was what Victoria wanted.
He was not the sort of man who was willing to leave a woman in danger.
Least of all from a man as unscrupulous as that bastard Earl.
“What does that matter?” Victoria asked and picked up her fork, only to push at the food on her plate.
“Is there somethin’ about the supper that is not to yer likin’?” Arran asked, pouring them both a glass of wine.
“The food is fine, I am sure. I just do not have much of an appetite when I think about having someone’s blood on my hands, and the ruination of my beloved sister.”
Arran sighed slowly. “I willnae pretend to understand how that works, but if ye are worried about yer sister, then tell me what I can do to aid ye. Shall I send soldiers? Guards to watch her, maybe?”
“I just want to know if she is all right!” she said, shaking her head. “Goodness, there do not always need to be swords involved.”
He took a steadying breath to temper his annoyance. “A messenger, then?”
“A messenger? Yes… if I could, perhaps, write to her, then that would be something. I do not even truly know where we are, so it is not as if I can give away our location or anything like that. I promise,” Victoria said without looking at him. If anything, she almost seemed sheepish about it.
“I am nae worried about that, lass,” Arran answered. “I can have me men go and find her if ye ken where to look for her? Bring her back here, if ye like?”