Chapter 18
“And where’s the terrible storm that brought ye to me bedchamber, eh?” Arran asked with a sly smirk.
Victoria faltered as she walked at his side, for the storm that had howled and raged against the keep seemed to have… vanished. As if it wanted to play a trick on her for using it as an excuse to knock upon his door and see him in the bathtub.
“You heard it,” she protested. “There is no way you did not. It was raining so hard I thought there were people throwing stones at the window. Not to mention the thunder and lightning.”
He chuckled. “What ye have to learn about the weather in Scotland is that it can change in a moment. Ye can be wandering the hills in the brightest sunshine one second, then be in the midst of a downpour the next. That’s why ye mustnae worry over storms here.
Aye, some in the winter can be brutal, but more often than nae, they pass swiftly. ”
She relaxed at his reprieve, her embarrassment subsiding enough that she could take in the landscape that surrounded them.
The gardens in the daytime might have been Victoria’s favorite place in the entire castle, easily.
However, the gardens at night? Absolutely breathtaking.
It was actually hard to put into words how spectacular she found it.
The sky felt larger here, in a way that made her feel impossibly small.
Perhaps it was because she had only looked out at the moon through her window before.
Here, the stars seemed to shine more brightly overhead, and now that she had the opportunity to stand below the waning moon’s silvery light glancing over her skin, she felt effervescent.
Funny, considering that the reason she was here was to learn a lesson in fighting, but the atmosphere made her feel wholly calm.
She had had no idea what it was that she ought to wear in a setting like this, but she had presumed that her normal dresses would not allow for the correct sort of movements; however, it was not as if she had an abundance of options.
She had momentarily considered attempting to locate a pair of trousers for the occasion, but that had embarrassed her far too much.
It mattered not at all that Arran already knew exactly what her legs looked like bared before him.
Oh, that was exactly what she needed not to be thinking about when she was about to undergo this little lesson.
At least with the moon so high and bright in the sky, they would be able to see one another perfectly fine, but she had brought a couple of lanterns with her just in case.
“Set those lanterns down over there,” Arran instructed, gesturing to a square of lawn up ahead. “I just need to fetch somethin’ for yer lesson.”
As he hurried off, she walked the rest of the way alone… and waited for his return.
It was hard to know how much time had passed, but she was starting to think that he might have tricked her for a second time to tease her even more than he had before—at least until she felt the warmth of a very large body directly behind her.
His breath brushed against the shell of her ear as his hand found her waist, squeezing softly as Arran spoke in a very low, husky voice.
“Lesson number one: never turn yer back on yer enemy, lass.”
Goosebumps erupted all down her spine, and she had to actively fight to suppress a shudder. “But I was expecting you!”
“And what if I were someone else, lass? What then? What if I had asked Neil to come down here in me stead… would ye have been so trusting?” Arran asked seriously.
She could tell from his tone that he was perfectly serious, and that this was no joking matter to him. She ought to take it equally seriously.
“Well, I suppose that I did just assume…”
“And ye cannae do that. Not when it comes to this, lass,” Arran said firmly. “Ye have to keep yer head on a swivel so that nae matter where the threat is comin’ from.”
“That sounds exhausting,” Victoria answered, but she knew that it was true.
It was how she had always felt around Charles. She had to be on alert, never knowing where he was coming from or what mood he might be in at any given moment. It had been almost overwhelming then for her, and that was when she was only facing one opponent.
“How do you stay that alert during your battles all the time?”
“Practice,” Arran answered.
“That’s it?”
He nodded once and then started to walk in a small circle around her, lifting her hand into a defensive position while he moved, shaping her as if she were a sculpture being formed: a new statue for the garden.
“The best way to defend yer face is to keep yer arms up like this. Always protect yer face. Ye cannae do much when yer eyes start waterin’ because ye’ve been punched in the nose.
” Arran paused and pulled a small knife from within his kilt and extended it toward her.
“And if that doesnae work, then this should be somethin’ about yer size. ”
Victoria did not know what to do with any sort of weapon, but she accepted it, wrapping her hands around the hilt and attempting to feel even the slightest bit comfortable with the metal. “The most that I have ever cut is meat at the dinner table…”
Arran snorted a laugh. “Sorry, I daenae mean to tease ye, but I expected nothin’ less.”
Victoria was tempted to hit him in the chest for teasing her again, but did not trust herself to be able to touch him without reacting.
“I suppose the best things for ye to learn are how to throw a punch, how to defend yer face, and then where to stab a man so that it really hurts him,” Arran spoke as if he were planning out something far more serious.
The firm, commanding tone that he used was more than a little attractive; she would be foolish to even pretend that it did not affect her.
All she could hope was that he would not notice the extent to which she was affected.
It was not as if they had spoken about what they were to one another, or how things might or might not have changed between them since that night, which now felt so long ago.
“Try to hit me,” he said, smirking. “But maybe put the dagger down first. I daenae want any accidents.”
She did as he asked, and the lesson truly began.
“It is impossible!” Victoria wheezed, certain that the only things still keeping her on her feet were sheer determination and stubbornness. “How is… anyone supposed… to hit you? You probably win your battles… by frustrating your enemies!”
She knew that as the moon moved across the sky that her body was giving out. Her limbs were aching and tender; she was moving more slowly, but she was truly starting to feel as if she could grasp the concepts that he was attempting to teach her.
“Sometimes,” Arran replied, grinning.
“I really think we…” she sucked in a ragged breath “… should have started with… something smaller. Punching a… sack of straw or… something.”
She lunged for him again, sweeping her fist in a right hook… and missing him completely as he easily feinted backward.
“Would you stay still!” she complained, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
If only she could land just one hit on him, that would be enough, and then she could quit. At least, that was what she kept telling herself over and over again. Arran was such a large man, and she was not even able to tap him once. It defied logic that he was able to move as quickly as he was.
“Yer enemy willnae be standin’ doin’ nothin’,” he pointed out, circling her.
Even with him moving so quickly around her, no part of her was frightened of him or what he might be capable of. She did not have the same fear that she often did with Charles when he would pick up his sword or pistols. That paranoia simply did not exist here… and it made her feel stronger for it.
“Maybe, if I ask nicely, they might?” she said.
Arran chuckled. “If ye approached them in yer nightdress, perhaps they would.”
Victoria’s mind wandered, and she lost focus. Just one moment of distraction, and that was all that it took. Arran darted in and swept her off her feet—literally.
One moment, Victoria was standing; the next, she found her legs getting all tangled up inside of her own skirts, and she was falling right back down again.
She was certain that she was going to collapse into the ground, were it not for the strong arm wrapping around her back and cradling her head as the pair of them fell right down to the ground.
Her hips collided with the ground firmly, but the impact was mostly absorbed by the man who had been putting her on her rear in the first place.
“Got ye,” Arran whispered, his face merely an inch from her own, and she did not even know what to do with herself.
She could not breathe; all of her air was locked in her lungs, and she was almost afraid of what she might do if she placed her hands on his chest. He was entirely too close.
Victoria’s eyes widened in shock. There had been wholly too many touches in the first place.
Far, far too many over these last couple of hours, that feeling him like this, half on top of her?
It was more than she even knew what to do with.
Gingerly, Victoria placed a single hand on his chest, her own heaving with anticipation as she struggled to speak in a clear, even voice. “Very well, but now you need to unhand me.”
“I daenae ken why I would want to do that, lass,” Arran continued, with his voice low and directly near her ear. She did not mean to arch up into him as goosebumps ran down her spine, but she could not seem to stop herself from doing it either.
“The hour has gotten late, and I think that time has run away from both of us,” she murmured huskily. “I did not mean to distract you from your duties for quite this long, my Laird.”
A low rumble of warning left Arran’s chest, and she knew that it was because he did not like her calling him by his title when he had already given her permission to use his name. But when they were positioned so intimately like this, it did not feel appropriate to do so.
“I think that I deserve a prize for winnin’,” Arran whispered, his hand finding the back of her leg and cupping the fabric-covered skin toward him slightly. “It is only fair, after all.”
“I think that would not be fair in the slightest. You have far more experience than I; it is nowhere near a fair fight!” Victoria protested, and she hated that she giggled when she spoke to him.
“And what if I choose a reward that would benefit both of us, hm? Would ye be so averse to it then?”
“You have nothing I desire,” Victoria insisted and attempted to push his chest away from her again.
But it only seemed to encourage him to come even closer as he leaned down over her, laying her flat on her back.
It was more thrilling than she could have anticipated, just like the other night.
She was trapped, and yet her anticipation of what was about to come next was high enough that she almost felt dizzy with sensation.
“Is that right?” Arran teased, his lips barely touching the skin of her chest and neck as he spoke, warm breath panting between them.
She could feel him then, pressing against her inner thigh, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was just as affected by their little sparring match as she was.
It was also very effective in calling her out on her lie, because they both knew that she desired that very much.
Even though she knew that she should never want such a thing, and that it was likely condemning herself to ruin for even thinking about it.
“Yes,” Victoria uttered, gathering up enough courage to make eye contact with him. “Nothing at all.”
“Ah, a sore loser and a liar then? Didnae expect that from such an esteemed lady,” Arran continued with a touch of sarcasm at the word “lady”.
“I have no idea what you are referring to, sir.”
“Kiss me, and see if ye can lie to me face again. I much prefer ye flustered and off guard,” Arran muttered, his lips hovering just above hers now, waiting for her to close that last bit of distance between them.
She knew that she should not cave, that she was merely just doing what he wanted her to do, but how could she deny herself when she did, in fact, desire so much more from him than what she had gotten from him thus far?