The image of her flushed with passion lingered in his mind, and his thoughts drifted back to their kiss the previous afternoon. He remembered the way her body felt beneath his on the floor of Magnus’s carriage.
He grew hot, and this time it wasn’t from anger.
Arran grabbed a drying cloth and a bar of soap, and then left his chamber quickly, passing a few servants on the way. Each greeted him with friendly smiles, but he did not linger to exchange pleasantries. He walked out of the keep and into the courtyard.
Ramsey, who’d been on watch all night, looked down as Arran approached.
“A fine mornin’, me Laird,” he greeted.
“Is it, Ramsey? Tell me, any word of Blackwell?”
“Nay, but word could come at any time. Anyway, we are ready. I have men posted around the castle grounds and within the keep.”
“Good,” Arran replied. Ramsey was grinning more than usual, he noted. “Anything else, Ramsey?”
“Ye seem a little nervous. Maybe ye need some advice for yer wedding night? I am a trove of information and advice,” Ramsey offered, laughing.
Arran looked at him with an unamused expression. “I think I can handle it, lad,” he said flatly.
Ramsey laughed some more and clapped him on the back. “Well, I’m here if ye find yerself lacking.” He then cleared his throat,dropping the playful smile. “I’ll keep ye and yer lady safe today. Blackwell willnae interfere.”
Arran knew his friend would never let him down. He was grateful, and he hoped he would be capable of dealing with whatever was to come.
Skye woke up after only a few hours of sleep. The morning sun barely crept over the horizon as she leapt out of bed. She removed her curl rags, dressed, and gathered the leftover cheese and bread she’d hidden the night before.
She walked to her chamber door and pressed her ear to the wood. The hallway was quiet on the other side. Across the room, she opened the window shutter and looked outside.
Drat!
She leaned her head out the window, but she could barely see the courtyard and the main gate—and only the side wall at that. But then a small door opened at the corner where the courtyard wall and the main keep met, and Arran walked outside.
From her vantage point, she could see he was carrying a cloth, and she watched as he walked down a path that led into the forest. Her curiosity was piqued.
It doesnae matter where he’s goin’. I have to go now if I daenae wish to be his bride. Except that I would like to be his bride, but nae this way.
Skye took a chance and opened her chamber door. The hallway was clear. Instead of going down the main stairs, she went upstairs, back to that beautiful room. She paused for only a moment, remembering their kiss from the day before, but then continued on.
She’d assumed there was another stairwell on this top level of the keep, and indeed there was! Down she went, and she found herself at the back of the castle, with a door leading to her freedom just down the hall. She wasted no time in quietly opening the door and running toward the cover of the trees.
She looked in front of her. There were several paths, and she took the first one that led away from the keep. The path led down a slight hill and went deeper into the woods, and soon she couldn’t see the stone walls of the castle. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, constantly looking over her shoulder despite the steep trail to see if anyone was following her. But then her luck ran out, as the path ended at a small loch.
The water was clear at the edge and turned dark the farther she looked. White mist framed the opposite shore, and wisps of the fog drifted over the water as small ripples indicated life under its depths.
And then a man, the most handsome man she had ever seen, broke the water’s surface and rose amid the mist like a methicalcreature that lived in the depths of the loch. But she knew this creature. It was Arran.
She ducked into a grove of trees and bushes before he turned around.
Skye knew she should cover her eyes, but her gaze was drawn to his perfect masculine form as he walked toward the shore. Her cheeks burned, but she allowed her eyes to lazily run over the man who was to be her husband in a few short hours.
He’s mine… if I daenae run. Runnin’ is foolish. Where in all the world would I find such a bonny man?
His sleek, wet ebony hair clung to his temples and neck. Water trickled down the tufts of black hair covering his broad chest, drawing a dark path to his chiseled abdomen. Her eyes traced the outlines of his muscles down to his waist, where dark smallclothes drew a line of modesty she found herself wishing she could see beneath. She couldn’t avert her gaze. She could look at him forever.
Arran threw his hair back and rubbed the water from his eyes. Just as he started to walk out of the water, a young voice interrupted Skye’s reverie.
“There ye are, me Laird!” The shout was punctuated with a loud splash.
Arran laughed as young Fionn jumped into the water curled into a ball, splashing him profusely. He immediately retaliated by dunking the boy as soon as his head bobbed out of the water. There was more splashing, the boy climbed out only to jump in again, and then finally, Arran did what he came to do—he began to bathe.
