Out of breath from the dash up the stairs, she walked down the hall, drawn by a wide swath of natural light at the end. She stepped into the sunny rays and was surprised to see a large, stone-framed window.
What an odd place for a glass window.
Glass was valuable and hard to acquire, especially a piece this large—and way up here, at the top of the castle. Usually, windows were in the chambers of lairds or ladies. Sometimes castles had solars where the sunlight could be enjoyed by all.
She looked around. There was room for chairs and such, but the space was empty. She walked to the grand window and understood why it was placed there. The view was incredible!
This side of the castle rested on the edge of a cliff face. From her spot several stories up, she could see for miles! The valley below was green and lush, and, in the distance, she noticed several crofts and a few small cottages.
To the north, craggy mountains rose from the earth and watched over the fields dotted with sheep and cattle. She sighed, and some of the tension left her body. She took some deep breaths and was finally able to assess her situation.
Being on the run and hiding her mother had occupied all of her time and drained all of her energy for the past three years. She did not want to marry, least of all to Laird MacArthur, the man who had forced her to return to her father.
He is terribly handsome.
She thought back to the first time she saw him, when his imposing profile and commanding presence excited her andmade her uneasy. And despite kidnapping her, he’d been gentle with her, and he’d kept her safe whenever he was by her side.
And then she remembered his touch when he held her hand and covered her body with his in the carriage. Her stomach fluttered, and warmth bloomed in her core—she’d never felt this aroused before.
Ye’re nae a trollop, Skye!
She inwardly chastised herself, but then decided not to torture herself. The man was a fine specimen.
He’s also a fiend.
After all, he was going to hand her over to Blackwell for a piece of land. And then she felt guilty. The man had his reasons, and they were valid.
Her mind raced, and she went back and forth and back again, never coming to any sound conclusion about what she should do.
“Skye,” she suddenly heard his voice say softly.
Not wanting to face him after bolting out of the dining room, she asked, “What do ye want, Arran?”
He walked over to her and turned her gently toward him. “I wanted to make sure ye were all right.”
His large hand reached up, and his fingers traced the line a tear had left on her cheek. And for just a second, she leaned into his touch.
Ach! I cannae think when he is near!
Not allowing the tender moment to continue, Skye turned her face away. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
Aaron looked worried, his face tight with concern. He took a step back, giving her room. “Do ye like the view from the window?”
“It takes me breath away,” she said truthfully.
“This is one of me favorite places in the castle. When I was younger, I used to read up here. Ye should see the colors in the fall. It’s even more glorious in the snow and ice of winter.”
Skye tried to imagine the boy, not the man standing before her, in this special place. She nodded. “I am sure it is. But this is an odd place for a window. This space is small. Only a few can enjoy it at once.”
“And that’s because this space wasnae made for many. This space was created for just one.”
“And who was that?”
“Me faither, James Gilroy, placed the window there when he married me maither. He told me that originally, there was a small, shuttered opening up here. Me maither used to walk all the halls of the keep when she was restless, and one day she opened the shutters and looked outside. The view took her breath away too.”
“Tell me about yer maither?”
“I daenae have much to tell. She died giving birth to me.”
