Chapter 25

There was something about planning a large handfasting ceremony that both excited and scared Scarlett. It should be a time of excitement that she could share with her mother, but she felt a pang of guilt with every decision she made.

"Everything… all right?" she heard a voice ask behind her.

Felix.

"Aye, everything is just so."

"Ye dinnae seem like an excited bride."

"Leave it to ye, Felix, to really cut through the formality and give yer candid opinion on a situation."

Felix laughed humorlessly and took a step closer to her. It could have, to an outsider, seemed an innocent act, but to Scarlett, he was encroaching on her space, and she did not take well to that.

"I should go," she muttered and took a few steps back toward the staircase.

"It seems odd that ye arenae more happy, lass," Felix said louder.

Scarlett turned her back to him and walked out of the great hall. She stormed up the staircase, her morning seemingly ruined, when she passed Niamh's door on her way to her new rooms. A distant memory of them getting along well played in the back of her pounding head, but it was blurry.

I shouldnae have gotten so pished on his whiskey last night…

She took a chance and knocked on Niamh's door.

"Aye?"

"Niamh? It's Scarlett. Can I come in?"

"Of course!"

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Niamh was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, in a similar way that Scarlett did each morning, the blue shawl that Scarlett wore during that ride a few days ago wrapped around her tall frame. She motioned for her to sit in the chair across from her.

"What's on yer mind, Scarlett?"

"On me mind? Is it that obvious?"

"Ye brood more than me braither," Niamh teased kindly, and they both started laughing.

"Och, it's silly. I'm just feeling overwhelmed with planning the ceilidh with me maither…" Scarlett trailed off, remembering that Niamh will be doing the same thing when it comes time for her own handfasting. "I'm really sorry. I didnae mean?—"

Niamh held up a hand and offered her a soft smile. "Ye are fine to speak about me maither, and yer maither for that fact, around me. I'm nae fragile."

"Nay, indeed," Scarlett echoed. "I came in to check in on ye. Ye have had quite a trying couple of days this week."

"Aye…" Niamh trailed off, staring into the flames.

"Everything alright, Niamh?" Scarlett leaned forward and warmed her hands by the fire.

"Aye, I'll be fine."

"Can ye tell me a little bit more about yer parents?"

Niamh smiled and dove into detailed descriptions of her parents before they passed. "Me maither used to terrorize us. She'd chase us all around this castle. It's a wonder she did it without letting on when she got winded. Christ above kens that when I take the staircase too quickly, I have to have a lie-down!"

They both laughed heartily, before she continued, "Me faither was lovely. Everything about that man was good. I remember a time when Arran mouthed off to our maither, and our faither made him recite the entire declaration of Ruth from the bible, when she chose to stay with her husband's maither instead of returning to her people. Do ye recall it?"

The recollection of the story strangely mirrored Scarlett's thoughts and situation, and she smiled. "Of course! Where ye go, I will go?—"

"And where ye stay, I will stay," Niamh supplied, and then she looked over her shoulder.

"Where ye die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates ye and me…"

The sound of Arran's rough voice sent delicious shivers down Scarlett's spine, and she twisted in her chair to watch him recite the verse from the heart.

"Ye still ken it well," she observed.

"Dinnae be so impressed, Lady Scarlett. There's nothing much that could happen to me to make me forget that. Me faither made me scream it to me maither's window while standing outside in the snow," he added.

How long had he been standing there?

"Care to join me?" he asked from the doorway and offered her his arm.

It was not lost on Scarlett that the man standing before her looked just as hungry for her as the morning they kissed in the garden. Wave upon wave of images flashed in her mind, and a blush crawled up her neck and flooded her cheeks with heat.

Sheesh…

She touched the back of her hands to her cheeks before standing up and bidding her new friend farewell.

* * *

Niamh was doing better today than she was yesterday. She had color on her face, and she looked well-rested. They exchanged reverent nods before Arran escorted Scarlett out of the room.

"Where are ye taking me now?"

"The stables, lass. We're going on a ride."

"Lucky me," Scarlett hummed.

Lucky me.

Mrs. Cameron met them downstairs in the courtyard and thrust his cloak into his arms, and a newly knitted shawl into Scarlett's.

"Thank ye, Mrs. Cameron. We'll be back in a few hours."

Arran took the opportunity to grasp Scarlett's waist again and help her up into Sorcha's saddle, before he mounted Morag and led them out to the clan cairn. They kept the horses at a slow trot, and he talked over the sounds of their hoofbeats.

"Thank ye for visiting with Niamh this morning," he started.

"She seemed more cheerful when I left." Scarlett shrugged.

"It's nae nothing, lass. Ye cheered her up—a feat even I find daunting."

Scarlett smiled to herself, and Arran caught himself staring at her before she looked up.

"I met with Felix this morning as well. He mentioned that he upset ye again."

"I dinnae wish to discuss it," she clipped.

"Fine then, how about I tell ye something if ye tell me something?"

"Fine," she said, suspicious.

"I'll go first," Arran offered and pulled on Morag's reins to bring them to a stop.

Scarlett hadn't had the opportunity to enjoy the scenery the last time they were close to here. So, before he started, he motioned for her to finally take a look at what she had missed out on the day before.