Chapter 24

Three hours later, the men returned, and Arran looked up at the window to his study before he walked back into the castle.

"Damn," he hissed.

Felix hummed in agreement. "I still think we should have checked the outskirts of town," he offered. "But I get why ye wanted to rush back here."

Rush back?

"I hope one day she might forgive me rudeness," he continued.

To Scarlett? Nay, I didnae rush back to her… Did I?

"Nay, Felix. I didnae rush back to her—I mean, of course, I did, but it's also dinnertime, lad. It's the last night of the feast, and I have business I need to finish before the guests leave."

"Aye, of course. Somehow I forgot that we are here because of the feast!"

"Ye will be staying, right?"

"Aye, Lily and I will stay."

Arran clapped his friend on the back before bounding up the steps to his study. He paused briefly on the staircase, thinking about what would happen if he found Scarlett drunk.

It would be just like her to disobey me like that…

He huffed and took the rest of the steps two at a time. He could see that the fire in the study was lit by the crack under the door, and he could hear feminine voices just beyond the door.

Good, Lily is still with her.

He knocked on the door before entering, and to his surprise, Scarlett was not only joined by Lily, but also his sister, and they were all drunk.

"Woah, now, ye have drunk all of me whiskey!" he remarked sarcastically.

"Of course, we did, Braither," Niamh said sharply.

"It was delicious." Lily giggled softly and fell back onto the sofa behind her.

"Time for dinner," Arran announced, and he offered an arm to Lily and Niamh. "I'll come back for ye, lass."

Scarlett nodded her head dramatically before sitting back down on the sofa.

"Did ye have fun while Felix and I were out searching for yer attackers?"

"Aye, the most fun," Niamh slurred and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What did ye discuss in our absence?"

"How soon ye are holding the ceilidh," Lily said quickly, and Niamh snickered.

"Well, when ye ken that ye're in love, what's the point in waiting?" Arran argued.

"I know, Arran. I'm only pulling yer chain," Niamh said as he deposited Lily in her rooms.

"See ye soon, Lily," he called and then led his sister through the castle to her rooms.

"Do ye really love her?"

"Aye."

"What about all of that talk about nae wanting to marry?"

"What about it?"

"When ye ken ye're in love…" Niamh mimicked his voice drunkenly, and he smiled.

"Indeed, Sister. This doesnae change the fact that we cannae afford for ye to marry just yet."

"Ye didnae have to repeat yerself, Braither. I remember."

"Say what ye want to say, Niamh," he encouraged.

"Nay, what I think or say makes nay difference. It's already done, the ceilidh is next week. Congratulations, Braither."

They walked in silence the rest of the distance to her rooms, and then Arran walked back slowly to his study. Thinking about what Lily and his sister said this evening, in the candor of their drunkenness, he felt a sense of frustration. Felix suggesting that he cut the search short to get back to Scarlett was also frustrating.

I guess we're playing our parts well, but perhaps too well?

He made it back to his study, where he found Scarlett asleep on the sofa. Arran closed the door slowly and sat next to her.

"I'm awake," she mumbled.

"Alright, nay argument there, lass," he scoffed and leaned back into the cushions.

"I feel guilty about lying," she slurred.

"I'll speak with Finn tonight at dinner, lass. Perhaps we willnae have to go through with the ceilidh and we can end it before it even starts."

She nodded drunkenly and drifted back to sleep.

If we sort out the business with Finn, then she could marry properly.

"Arran," Scarlett said sleepily.

"Aye?"

He waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he sat up and looked at her. She was sound asleep, but she said his name.

"Lass?"

No response.

Did she just say me name in her sleep?

He reached over and checked her pulse to make sure that he didn't just imagine her saying his name. Scarlett's pulse was strong, and she hummed quietly.

"What are ye dreaming about, lass?" he asked, amused by the situation he found himself in.

He was about to push her hair away from her face when her eyes flew open.

Bloody raging bull! I almost smacked her! Cursed sleep demon, this one… Gorgeous, cursed sleep demon.

"Arran?" The tone of her voice shifted.

"Aye?"

"Take me to bed," she mumbled, and then her eyes fluttered shut.

"What was that about?"

"I thought ye might have been Reuben…" she mumbled again.

"What!"

"I thought…" she trailed off.

Arran looked at her sternly and then eyed the empty whiskey bottle at her feet. "Just how much of that did ye drink by yerself?"

Scarlett didn't answer, but he shook his head anyway, keenly aware of how drunk she was.

"Alright, lass. I've got ye," he said and lifted her into his arms to carry her to her new room—the one right next to his.