Chapter 31

It was two days until the ceilidh, and Scarlett's parents would be arriving tomorrow. Arran still hadn't seen her, as Mrs. Cameron and the healer both thought it best for her to have onlyj female company.

So, Felix suggested they partake in the usual pre-wedding activities. They raced horses and played backgammon and chess. Graham joined in as well, for sparring and archery. And even young Buchan made an appearance to make the teams even on a two-man-a-side game of shinty.

Mrs. Cameron was in no way pleased when all four men ended up in the surgery with all sorts of knicks, cuts, bruises, and swollen lips afterward.

"Ye shouldnae play any more shinty this week, Me Laird. Ye will look unfit to stand next to Lady Scarlett at the handfasting ceremony."

"She kens well what she's getting into, Mrs. Cameron," Arran joked.

Mrs. Cameron smacked his arm with a rolled-up rag, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

Standing in his rooms with the tailor, Arran smirked at the recent memory and assessed his visible injuries. His face was still blue and green from the blackeye that Graham gave him, and the scabs on his legs were still visible, but his worst injuries were hidden. He still had a massive welt on his back from when he was hit with a camán, and he took one wicked shot to the chest to prevent the ball from hitting his team's net. It looked like he took a bullet in his chest—the bruising stretched from his collarbone to his lower ribs on his entire right side.

Whenever the tailor shifted the jacket, Arran winced, which had frightened the small man the first few times, but he eventually realized that he was safe from the Laird's wrath.

"How is she?" Arran asked and looked at the tailor in the mirror.

"Lady Scarlett seemed quite well during her fitting this morning, Me Laird."

I could very well just order them to take me to her, but I'll respect her space. For all I ken, it was her who told them to keep me from her. I did tell them to respect her wishes above all else.

"Did ye fit me sister as well?"

"Nay, she is after ye, Me Laird."

"I wish to visit with her before the fitting."

"As ye wish, Me Laird." The tailor bowed humbly and continued his work.

If anyone has information to share, it's Niamh.

"Sister?" Arran said through the door to Niamh's rooms a few moments later.

"Arran, come in," she called. "I'm expecting?—"

"He'll come in after me, dinnae fash," Arran assured her as he stepped into her room.

Niamh nodded and motioned for him to join her at the table by the window. "Tea?"

"Aye." He nodded and went to sit at the table.

"I suppose this is about Scarlett?"

"Ye quickly understood me intentions, Sister."

She smirked in response and poured the tea for them both before answering.

"Well?" she prompted as she leaned back into her seat, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair, holding the teacup and saucer close to her chest. Arran did the same.

"Well, how is she?"

"What do ye mean?"

"I havenae seen her in about a week, Niamh. How is she?"

"Why did ye nae just go up there?"

"She doesnae want to see me," he said and then took a sip of his tea, wincing at the temperature but swallowing it still.

"She wants to see ye, Arran."

What?

His teacup clinked loudly against his saucer, and he stiffened.

"Aye, she's asked about ye every day. She seemed disappointed each time it was me or Lily who came into her room."

"Mrs. Cameron told me it was better for her to have female company this week to help ease her bridal jitters."

"Ye're a fool," Niamh scoffed, before taking a sip from her cup.

"Why do ye say that?"

"They arenae bridal jitters," she said, raising her eyebrow knowingly. "But I think that's all the healer understands at the moment. He willnae hear otherwise."

"So, she told ye what happened?"

"Aye, she told me."

"Well, she basically ran out of the study and slept for a whole day afterward!"

"I think she feels melancholic, but she willnae share that with me."

"What have ye and Lily done with her this week, other than strolling through the garden and reading?"

"That's it. I feel like she just wants to see ye, Arran. Ye need to talk about what happened between ye, or else she might nae join ye at the ceremony in a couple of days. Ye definitely need to sort it out before her parents come back here. She cannae be holed up in her room when they arrive either."

"Ye didnae think I ken that?"

"I figured ye needed to hear it said aloud."

Arran set down the still-steaming cup of tea and leaned back into his chair. He rubbed his face roughly and then ran his hands through his hair.

Blasted bloody bull…

"Is she furious?"

"Nay, I think she misses ye."

Misses me?

"Aye," Niamh uttered, as if reading his mind. "I was surprised as well, because I ken ye well." She winked and took another sip of her tea.

"Should I bring her something?"

"Gifts are always nice, but she's been reading those books ye left her. She watched ye play shinty with Felix, Graham, and young Buchan, by the way. We all watched from her windows."

"Och, aye?"

"She saw the slashing and the ball ye took in yer chest and has been asking me about ye since."

Arran interlaced his fingers and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, pondering what she said.

"She cares about ye, obviously. Ye care about her too, though ye already… showed… her that." Niamh snickered, and he leveled her with a glare. "Ach! Whatever, Braither, ye are handfasted?—"

"Nae yet, Sister."

"That doesnae matter! Ye have feelings for each other, and it would have happened anyway. It wasnae everything, it was just something small?—"

"It wasnae small, Niamh!"

"Nay, I didnae mean that. I mean that compared to the entire act of making love, though ye did make it."

"I cannae believe I'm having this conversation with ye."

Niamh waved off his comment. "Are ye ashamed that I ken the same amount as ye do on this topic? Women talk."

"Do they?"

"Sure, behind closed doors."

"I see…" Arran said, not knowing what to think or feel about his sister's revelation, and not wanting to offend her somehow by prying.

Niamh tsked before she continued, "I'm nae ignorant to that knowledge, having grown up around ye and ye'r rowdy friends. Ye never watch what ye are talking about. I was askin' maither all sorts of things after eavesdroppin' on ye."

"Aye, I guess it's for the best."

"Aye! I wasnae asking ye for approval either way. If ye wished yer sister to stay chaste in mind, then ye should have watched what ye said around me and also told that to our maither. She was the one who had to explain to me all about it at first."

"I didnae mean to offend ye, Niamh. I'm just shocked ye ken about this at all."

"Of course, Braither. I ken that…"

They both sipped their tea and looked out the window.

"Sister?" Arran said, finally breaking the silence between them.

"Aye?"

"I love ye, and I appreciate yer taking care of Scarlett while I was keeping me distance. I'll go to her now."

"Of course, Braither. I love ye, too."

Arran stood up, and Niamh joined him to walk him out. Before he left, he leaned in to embrace her as another show of gratitude.

"Alright, ye can go in now," he told the tailor as he walked out and headed straight to Scarlett's rooms.

* * *

"Lass?"

Scarlett was sitting by the fire when Arran's voice rang through the heavy door before he knocked and announced himself again.

"Lass, it's me, Arran. May I come in?"

"Aye," she called and wrapped herself further in the woven shawl that Lily had placed on her shoulders before she left the room a few minutes earlier.

Arran pushed open the door and poked his head around it before stepping fully into the room.

"Can I close it?"

"If ye like," she said and then motioned for him to sit across from her.

As Arran walked toward her, he took inventory of the space. Her bed was made. Good. The fire was high, and she had more wood. Good. The curtains were drawn to let in light. Good. The teapot was still steaming. Good. The food on the table had not been touched. Not good.

He sighed and sat down next to her, staring into the fire for a moment. "Sc?—"

"I just want?—"

They both chuckled before he motioned for her to continue.

"I wanted to tell ye that I'm alright," she said and smiled softly.

"The healer said that ye have the bridal jitters," Arran offered, not alluding to any further knowledge of her situation.

Good. I'll start with that, and then I have to tell him that I talked to Niamh about that night, but not Lily.

"Aye, I think I certainly do now that it's two days away," she said.

Just then, a young maid knocked on the door and walked in. "Me Lady? Och! Sorry, Me Laird." She bowed deeply.

"It's alright, lassie. What is it?" Arran asked kindly.

"I'm just here to add wood to the fire and pour Miss Sc—Lady Scarlett her tea." The girl blushed fiercely and bowed again.

"We'd both love some tea, lassie. I'll add wood to the fire," Arran offered.

The young maid scurried to the tea table. She poured the tea with finesse and put the two settings on the small table between them before she left, closing the door behind her.

"Yer parents should be here soon," Arran said, continuing the conversation.

"I'll need to leave the safety of me rooms then," Scarlett joked, and he smiled briefly.

"So, before bridal jitters, what was wrong?" he asked slowly.

Scarlett breathed deeply before she answered, "Well, I think I needed space to meself."

"Space to think?"

"Something like that. After we—in the study?—"

"Scarlett—"

"Wait, let me finish," she pleaded, and Arran nodded. "After that night, I came in here and just felt so exhausted. I slept for quite some time, and just took some time to think about everything."

"Everything?"

"All that we agreed to do with each other and for each other."

"I see, and what came of that?"

"Well, I realize that I just had a temporary moment there where I forgot that it was a ruse," she admitted and laughed, but Arran remained silent, intent on listening. "I ken ye told me nae to forget. So, I was disappointed in meself for a while, for feeling shame and guilt afterward."

Arran's face fell, and the shadows from the fireplace danced across his face as he shook his head. "Lass?—"

"Wait! I'm almost done."

"Nay, wait," he said, holding up a hand. "Lass, it's me who felt shame and guilt afterward. I?—"

"I heard ye, Arran. When ye came into me rooms, I heard ye."

"Ye heard me?"

"Aye, and honestly, after ye said what ye did, I felt relieved."

"Relieved?"

"We shouldnae feel guilt or shame because we are supposed to be handfasted. We didnae do anything wrong, in our own eyes. We ken the ruse, but I figured that if we could get over it, then we would be better for it."

"Better off how?"

"Look, I asked ye to show me…"

"That's nae an excuse for me behavior and lack of self-control, Scarlett. I willnae ask ye to forgive any of that."

She smiled and took a sip of her tea. "Arran, I'm nae asking for yer permission."

"Well, what can I do to make it up to ye?"

"Nay, ye dinnae have anything to make up to me."

"I do, though."

"Take me to yer favorite place, Arran. Romance me. We've got to be in love before me parents arrive tomorrow."

"What? Now?"

"Aye, starting now."

Arran took a sip of his tea and looked around the room. Scarlett had her riding boots on, and his eyes met her now fiery gaze.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt. "When was the last time ye ate, lass?"

"I had breakfast," she said, before taking another sip of her tea.

"Would ye care to go on a ride with me? I'll have Mrs. Cameron make us a basket."

Scarlett set her cup down silently, and Arran rose and offered her his hand. She took it eagerly and let the shawl fall into the chair as she stood up.

She was wearing a dark blue woolen riding habit, and he chuckled. "All right, lass. Let's go."