Chapter 26

"When I was younger, I made a lot of mistakes," Arran began.

Scarlett sat silently, her eyes fixed on him as he began to recount his past. She was studying him. Her expression was warm, her eyes soft and encouraging, and she listened.

He leaned forward against the pommel and continued, "I'm now afraid that every alliance I make, or every trade route I start, will crumble and I'll fail me clan as me faither did."

"He didnae fail the clan," Scarlett said quickly.

Arran rolled his eyes. "He did, lass. I told ye."

"If it helps, from what I heard throughout this entire week, every laird is worried about those things. Ye arenae alone. It's tough!"

"Nay, they are all starting above water. We are but lips above the water's surface, lass, and it doesnae feel great taking these risks without any guarantee of return."

"Well, if ye are all worrying about it together, then there's surely some guarantee that it will work out."

"Sure." He shrugged.

"Tell me, why would ye nae consider actually looking for a bridge this week? Why the need for this whole situation to help the clan?"

Arran nodded his head thoughtfully and then slid off Morag's saddle before walking around and pulling her down from Sorcha's saddle. He let her slide down his body again, and her lips lingered dangerously close to his once more. However, he gently lowered her to her feet and led her to an old tree stump.

This is going to be hard to share with her, but she deserves to ken this part.

"Nae a soul alive kens this about me." He looked up at her to make sure he could trust her with his secret.

Scarlett smiled encouragingly. "I willnae say anything."

"Before the war, I made many mistakes, as I said. I was set to move out to join me faither in the war when I found out that one of the lassies I slept with was with child."

Scarlett's hand moved to his thigh, as if to hold on to steady herself even though she was sitting down.

"I didnae even remember her name, Scarlett. It was embarrassing. I never loved her, nor did she love me, but I did the honorable thing and married her. It was a private affair, and only the vicar and a few strangers in the church were our witnesses."

He put a hand on top of hers and paused. Their eyes met.

"There were a lot of complications during childbirth, Scarlett, and the bairn wasnae breathing when he was born, and she had lost a lot of blood. Before she died, she blamed me for everything. The bairn's death, her death, the war—everything."

Scarlett clapped her free hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. Arran offered her a handkerchief before he continued.

"I'm sorry for this story, lass, but it's the whole reason why I've refused marriage. That night, I vowed to never marry again."

A low sob escaped her lips, and Arran pulled her onto his lap. She buried her head in his chest and wept softly.

"It's alright, lass. It's me burden to bear. I willnae put another woman through that," he soothed, and took the handkerchief from her to wipe her tears until she looked up at him.

There she is…

"If ye want to go, I willnae stop ye."

"I'm so sorry ye went through that, Arran. Did ye tell yer parents?"

"Aye, I told them. They're the only ones who ken—well, them and the vicar, I guess. The witnesses too, but I dinnae ken if they're still alive. I'm guessing they arenae. It was over five years ago, and they were all so old back then."

"I'm glad ye told them."

"Niamh doesnae ken, nor will she ever."

"Makes sense, it's yer burden to bear and yer secret to share. Vow or nae, I didnae think ye should punish yerself in that way."

Arran smiled and stood up, lowering her to her feet again. "Come, let's head back, lass."

* * *

Sorcha followed closely behind Morag, and Scarlett took the opportunity to appreciate Arran's strong physique. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles in his forearms rippled perfectly as he held on to the reins. His thighs flexed as he rose out of the saddle and then back down every other step. His back was broad, and his shoulders were sturdy. His brown locks fluttered in the wind, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as he ground his teeth in thought.

He is thinking about the secret he shared. Should I say something about it?

There was something strange that Scarlett felt when she thought more about the story he shared.

He was married before, and he almost had a child with her.

They rode all the way to the stables and led them inside. He walked her through unsaddling and grooming the horses. She stayed silent and contemplative, and mimicked his actions on Sorcha as he removed the saddle, bridle, and tack from Morag.

"Ye okay, lass?"

"I'm…" she started to say but trailed off.

He smacked his teeth and then tossed her a brush, and they both took their time grooming their mounts' coats, the rhythm of their brush strokes matching perfectly.

After some time, Scarlett dropped the brush in the bucket and followed Arran out of the stables, but he caught her in the doorway. His arm across the threshold, Scarlett leaned against the doorframe. Her hand instinctively rested on the arm that framed her face. He watched her for a moment, his eyes roaming over every inch of her face.

"Will ye say something? The silence is killing me."

Arran lifted his hand and trailed his knuckles lightly down her cheek as he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Scarlett leaned into his touch as his hand opened and cupped her face.

"I dinnae care about what happened in the past. Ye deserve happiness…" she trailed off, and then bit her lip to stop herself from saying something she might regret later.

It's just a ruse. It's all a ruse.

In a fluid motion, his fingers slid into her hair while his other hand pulled her closer. His lips met hers with a furious need.

She moaned into his mouth, feeling the heat of arousal instantly.

I need more…

Her hands wandered up his chest and tangled into his hair.

"Scarlett," Arran hissed and pulled away.

The cold whiplash of rejection hit her again, and she sighed loudly. "What? Why did ye do that?"

"Someone might be looking at us from above." He nodded his head toward the windows on the upper floors.

Ha! Ye're so full of blarney, Arran Williams.

"Och, aye, good thinking, Arran," she said, before she pushed off the doorframe and left him behind.

Maybe I have time to touch meself before dinner. I'm so frustrated.