Chapter 5

5

“You don’t have to do this, Arran,” she told him through gritted teeth. She didn’t want him thinking that she was some object that had been sullied, and now he, as the one who had broken her, needed to pay for what he had done. He shot a look in her direction, his sharp eyes catching her off-guard.

“I dinnae need to,” he agreed. “But I want to.”

Want. That word seemed to contain so much meaning, so much more than she had ever known in her life. Did he want her? And if he did… what exactly did it mean? She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to distill some of the emotion coursing through her body in that moment.

Her father extended his hand to Arran at once, without another word.

“We’ll sort through the details later,” he replied. “As long as you have the money, my daughter will make a doting wife for you.”

“Father!” she exclaimed, her voice twisting in her throat. How could he be so… callous with her? She heard a gasp, and looked across to see her sisters clutching each other, their eyes wide. She bit back more protest, reminding herself that this was meant to be for their benefit, after all.

“Sir, much as I understand you’re thinking behind this, please, consider the reputation of Laird Aitken,” his advisor muttered urgently. “His violence is well-known throughout the land. Your daughter?—"

“I’ll visit Aitken Keep,” her father replied dismissively, as though it should have been obvious. “At least make certain he has the kind of home to which my daughter has become accustomed.”

Arran jerked his head.

“No, you won’t,” he replied. “Only members of the clan come to the Keep. Everyone else keeps their distance. If they’ve got their wits about them.”

Amelia stared at him, at this wild man who had found her in the forest and ridden with her back to the inn. She hardly knew him, but, if what the advisor said was true, then she knew she had good reason to be afraid of him. Just what exactly was he capable of? And what exactly was her father selling her into, at the cost of her own life? A brute like that, the things he could do to her in a marital bed, though he was so gentle with her before…

A shock of heat coursed through her system, and she did her best to brush it aside, focusing on what was laid out before her.

“Give your daughter away, Lord Millbrook, and you will not see her again,” the advisor warned, his voice low and urgent. His eyes were flashing with fear and doubt, as though all he wanted in the world was to stop this from unfolding in front of him.

“I trust a man who claims the title of Laird,” her father remarked. “And one who brought my daughter back to me when he could have…”

He trailed off. He didn’t need to fill out the rest of the sentence; everyone knew what he was talking about. Was that all it took for him to trust someone enough to sell her to them? That they hadn’t taken advantage when they’d had the chance?

Arran turned to her. His gaze was inscrutable as his eyes met hers again. As though she were nothing more than a doe, caught at the end of his bow. Perhaps that was all she had ever been to him.

Though what he had planned for her when he got her back to his Keep, she knew she was less than ready for.

“Take an hour to gather yer things and say your goodbyes,” he remarked. “Then, we’re leaving.”

Her lips parted in protest, but whatever words she might have, had died on her tongue. The decision had been made. Her father would take the money, and she would be wed to this Laird. This strange, wild Laird, who had a reputation that preceded him, a reputation she knew she would come to understand intimately in her time with him.

Whether she wanted to or not.

The cold air snatched at her skin as the hooves of his horse thundered beneath them. She was once again tucked up against his arms, but this time, she was being carried to a fate she could never have imagined.

To his Keep. As his new wife. He had handed over the money to her father. She had scarcely known that he was carrying such riches with him, but whatever he offered him, he had taken it at once. And, while there was a part of her that was glad that she was not going to be subject to the groping hands of the older clansman who had wanted her at first, she knew little of what the life that she had just been sold into would entail.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a Laird?” she had demanded, once she had finally pulled herself away from her weeping sisters. She had told them to be strong, and that she would do the same, that the three of them would find each other eventually, and that they would be together. She didn’t know if it was true, or if she would ever see outside the confines of this Keep she was being carried to, but she had to give them something to cling to.

“Because it was none of yer business.”

She almost laughed at his answer.

“Did you plan this from the start?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as they stood next to his horse. Now that he had paid the price for her, she reasoned that she could stand to ask him a few questions. There was little chance he’d hand her back to her father after he had paid a dowry for her.

“No.”

His short answers infuriated her. Did he think he owed her no more explanation than that? They were going to be married, for goodness’ sake, she would need to know at least something about him before they…

Before they shared that marital bed together. She felt the shudder of warmth through her body once more, a sensation she wasn’t sure she had ever noticed before. She brushed it aside, and allowed him to help her onto the horse, before they galloped away from the in, leaving her family behind for good.

She stole one last glance over her shoulder at the inn, vanishing into the distance behind her. Under her breath, she whispered a prayer for her sisters; that they would be taken care of and that her father would not push his greed any further than he already had. Surely, he had enough to pay his debts off now, and if that spared her siblings the fate that she was facing, maybe it would all be worth it.

Maybe.

She could feel his arms tucking either side of her, holding her in place, but it didn’t feel as comforting as it had before. Because she was being carried to a fate she knew nothing about. What would he expect of her, as his new bride? What would he expect her to do? Her mind was already racing with a hundred different possibilities, some of them terrifying, some of them…

She forced herself to focus on the road ahead, counting out the hoofbeats below her as the horse carried them across vale and hill towards the Keep that she would soon be calling her home. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she supposed she would do that when they arrived. If he even answered her questions at all.

Storm clouds began to gather on the horizon as they rode, like the very weather itself was holding its breath for her. Finally, in the distance, atop a large hill that looked down over a dark loch, a building roved into view, and he tugged on the reins to slow the horse.

“Is this it?” she asked, her voice laced with fear. She could feel him nod against her shoulder, the graze of his rough stubble against her skin, even through the fabric.

“Aye.”

He was a man of few words. Not much for speaking. But, she wondered, would he be much for anything else?

He trotted the horse up the winding path that wrapped around the base of the hill, lined on either side with craggy rocks and sprouts of heather and gorse. The bright purple and yellow looked almost out of place against somewhere so dark. The Keep itself was a large stone building, with two turrets emerging from the top, each giving a clear view across the land that surrounded the hill, as though to keep watch for attackers.

He slowed the horse to a halt, and then hopped off. He offered her a hand to help her down, but she ignored it. She wasn’t going to touch him more than she had to, not when it had lit such a strange sensation in her belly before.

She gazed up at the Keep for a moment, her chest heaving with anxiety.

“Why did you agree to do this?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, as he moved past her and towards the large wooden door that held the cold out from the Keep. He paused, and looked over his shoulder at her, his face impassive.

“Would ye rather I had left you to that other man?” he asked, incredulous. She parted her lips, and then closed them again, thinking better of it. She truly didn’t know if she had gotten the better outcome here. She supposed she would have to wait and see. She was distantly aware of the scent of him still clinging to her skin, from where she had been draped in his cloak.

He reached the door, and it swung open, a man behind it pulling it aside for him to step in. For Amelia’s part, she hesitated, holding back.

Glancing across to the horse, she bit down hard on her lip. Could she run? Could she toss her leg over this creature and just make a break for it? She knew little of the surrounding area, but she could try—God only knew she could try. She might not reach her family or her sisters again, but at least she would be free.

“Come.”

His voice, commanding, echoed through her head, making her shiver. She glanced back towards him, and lowered her head to follow him inside. Wherever she ran to, she got the feeling that he would have been able to come and find her.

And she wasn’t sure yet whether she liked that idea or not.