Chapter 12

The maid led Scarlett into the dining hall, where a huge breakfast spread had been set up for any guests who might have headed downstairs. Scarlett mind raced as she went through the motions of piling bannocks onto her plate.

Young Buchan is awake. He has to be. Why else would he leave like that?

The maid stood near the table and watched as Scarlett ate, as if she was taking notes to report on her to Laird McLaren later.

"Do ye ken where Laird McLaren went?"

"He went to take care of something, Lady Scarlett. He will return shortly."

"Did he go to visit with Reuben Buchan? Is he awake?" Scarlett asked nervously.

"I dinnae ken, Me Lady," the young maid replied sorrowfully.

Scarlett knew she was lying, so she pressed harder. "What did ye tell him outside? Why did he leave like that?"

"Just that he was needed inside."

"Wrong, ye didnae say anything to him. I was there. Now, what is this all about? Why are ye lying to me?"

"Me Lady, respectfully, I am under the employ of Laird McLaren. He has forbidden me from speaking on it. I'm sorry," the maid said and bowed low to emphasize her point.

Both nervous and frustrated, Scarlett pushed back from the table. "I'm finished. I'll be going now," she announced loud enough for the maid to hear.

Unfortunately, the maid started to follow her, which greatly hindered her plan to find Laird McLaren.

"I ken the way back to me rooms well enough. Leave me," Scarlett lied, but the sharpness of her voice was enough to send the maid away.

She climbed up the spiral staircase to the guest floors, and not knowing which rooms belonged to the Donaldsons, she started pacing at the end of the hallway, waiting for Laird McLaren to emerge from one of the rooms.

What if he told him? Will it be enough for him to leave me alone for good?

"Lady Scarlett?"

She started at the sound of a familiar, deep voice hidden by the darkness calling her name. She stopped pacing and stared into the void, waiting for him to appear.

"Aye?"

"What are ye doing up here?"

"I couldnae sit still. Is young Buchan awake?"

"Aye," Arran replied and watched as a shiver made its way over her shoulders, around her neck, and crawled down her back.

"Right, and ye told him?" Scarlett asked, not looking him in the eye.

"Aye, I told him."

"What did ye tell him?"

"I told him we were engaged, and that ye asked me to provide ye with updates on his status."

That's it? That's nae enough!

Scarlett shook her head vigorously, and her hair bounced around her face as her thoughts started to slip past her lips. "Nay… that willnae going to be enough. He's relentless. Do ye nae see?"

Arran reached out and grabbed her chin to make her look up at him. Her cobalt-blue eyes darted around them as he tried to calm her down. "Scarlett?"

Her breathing started to quicken, and she felt dizzy. If it weren't for Arran's grasp on her face, she would have fainted.

"It willnae be enough," she whispered.

"He willnae bother ye anymore. I'll keep me end of the deal, lass. Nae one soul will bother ye as long as ye are under me care. Ye are mine. I promise."

"I'm going to be ruined, can ye nae see? I'm already ruined. He will ruin me! Ye will have nay choice but to leave me."

"What are ye jabbering on about?" Arran asked.

The look on his face was that of confusion, most likely caused by her erratic behavior, but there was also awe in it.

Her eyes flashed open and bored into his. His grip on her chin tightened slightly as we watched her become overwhelmed by fear.

"How will ye protect me?" she spat out and wrenched her head from his grip. "Can ye even protect me? How can ye guarantee he willnae bother me anymore? What is the plan? Do ye even have a plan? What if yer plan doesnae work? What then?"

Scarlett had so many more questions, but she paused and felt ashamed when she watched his face harden and his hand drop from her face.

Shite…

"Dammit, woman, look at me!" Arran growled. "I willnae support ye in this. Ye shouldnae let fear rule ye. I would never marry someone who lets fear rule them."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Why is it wrong that I'm scared?"

Arran stared at her silently, and she watched him return to being the cold and calculating Laird McLaren everyone knew him to be.

"I can fix this. I'm fine. I'm sorry for sayin' that. I'm just scared, and ye left me. I dinnae trust young Buchan. I dinnae think yer telling him that was enough. I'm sorry. I can fix this. Let me fix this," she mumbled frantically.

The words just kept falling out of her mouth before she could think to say them, but his expression just grew darker and more pointedly furious.

"I—" Scarlett started to say as she reached out to rest a hand on his arm in an effort to calm him down, but his glare made her pause.

"I—" she started to say again, but this time Arran lunged at her. His lips crashed down onto hers, and his hands snaked around her body and into her wild hair.

Scarlett's body melted into his. His mouth on hers, his hands in her hair and around her waist, she was his captive. A surge of electricity, igniting a blaze between them, threatened to consume her at the feel of his lips on hers.

"Say me name, Scarlett," Arran demanded passionately.

He pressed her against his hard body, and she arched her back as she moaned into his mouth, "Arran!"

"Aye, lass, just like that," he growled in her mouth.

Scarlett rose on her tiptoes to kiss him back, deeply, hungrily. Time seemed to stand still as they got lost in each other. Every touch, every sigh, every heartbeat was magnified as the intensity of their kiss scorched her entire body. Her hands mirrored his, and when they found his hair, she tugged on it gently, which made him hiss.

His kiss was urgent, but his voice was soft as he whispered his command that made her heart pound nearly out of her chest. "Follow me lead, lass."

She felt his words burn on her lips before his teasing tongue silently begged for her to open her mouth, and she did.

* * *

"So, Braither," Niamh asked lazily later that morning as she leaned against the door to his study, "are ye going to tell me, or will I have to believe me maid's gossip?"

"That depends on the gossip ye heard, Sister," Arran replied, busying himself with the ledgers on his desk, but her silence made him look up from what he was doing. "What?"

"Arran Williams, are ye engaged?"

"Ah, that," he said in a mischievous tone that he knew drove his sister mad. "Aye, I am."

"What that what ye were doing with Laird O'Neill last night, and why I had to keep Felix and Lily away from ye?"

"Aye. It's business, Niamh. Dinnae fash yerself on clan matters."

"Business! Ye just told me ye werenae going to marry!"

"Leave it be, Sister."

"Ye swore up and down this castle that ye wouldnae agree to such an arrangement. No matter how much the council or I pressured ye to, ye vowed to nae marry. So… what happened?"

"I told ye yesterday that the O'Neill alliance was imminent. It's an alliance that makes sense."

"That's nae what ye meant at the time. What changed?" she asked, growing more impatient with his casual tone.

"It's nae me fault if ye heard something other than what was said."

"She's bonny, sure, Arran. And it was actually me plan to ally ourselves with Clan O'Neill. Are ye doing this just for another trade alliance? Do ye nae have Laird Donaldson in yer debt? What do ye have to give in return for marrying her?"

Arran was done having this conversation and rustled around the papers on his desk silently before answering her. He chose his words carefully. "I dinnae owe ye or anyone else an explanation. It's done."

Niamh scoffed and crossed her arms, before walking up to his desk. She perched on the arm of her favorite chair. "Braither, ye were never good at lying to me. Out with it."

"Sister, I'll nae discuss this further with ye. If anyone asks, I am engaged to Scarlett Paton, and I fully intend on committing to the handfasting at the end of this week. Now, ye said ye trust me." Arran rose from his chair to return his sister's glare. "Prove it."

Niamh scoffed and then stormed out of the study. She was the one person he needed on his side without her knowing the full story. She could never know. The ruse would be even more believable if the Shepherds supported him and Scarlett. There was work to be done.

The clanging of metal in the courtyard distracted him, and he walked over to the window to check on his men, who were setting up the grounds for the Games.