“It’s not refreshments, Lucy.” Anguish filled his voice.
She tried in vain to tear her eyes from his. Arran’s gaze was filled with the same warmth of when they’d bonded over biscuits in an empty kitchen, vast anguish, and a swell of emotion so dangerously close to…love.
Stop! You’re a damned fool, lass.
And she’d tired of dancing around secrets and questions with this man. “Why are you here, Arran?” Despite her resolve, her query came spilling forth as a plea.
“When you left—”
“Don’t you mean when you sent me away?” She didn’t bother to contain her bitterness.
Arran’s body jerked like she’d run him through. “Aye,” he said, his voice thickened with emotion. “When I sent you away.”
The evidence of his suffering brought her up short. “Lucy, I’ve been an unmitigated ass.”
She wavered. Of anything she thought he might say, that wasn’t it. “Y-Yes, you were.”
The ghost of a smile hovered on his hard lips. “And I am so, so bloody sorry for the things I said—” His voice caught. He looked away. “I’ve been so closed off this past year, and then you swept in and saved me, and when I discovered the truth, I behaved abominably.”
Her proud, obstinate Arran would supplicate himself to her?
“I was not truthful with you, Arran,” she conceded. “You had every right to your anger.”
His features drew taut. “It never merited my cruelty. As I said, you deserve the bloody stars, moon, and a crown, and I want to give you that.”
A humming filled Lucy’s ears. She cocked her head. “I don’t…” She tried again. “What…?”
Like a spark had been set beneath Arran’s feet, he began to pace. “After you’d gone, I just kept thinking about…” A frantic energy existed in his every movement. “Everything.” He movedhis arms as he spoke. “Our timing, our paths not crossing.” His mouth drew taut. “Campbell.” He shook his tousled head. “I understood why it went awry.”
Confused, Lucy shook her head. What was he talking about?
Arran stopped quick. “Us, Lucy.” The tender warmth in his eyes and his avowal sucked the breath from her lungs. “I don’t rove the lands as a good Scot ought, but I rove all the same. The seas were my home, and my feet are never fixed to the ground.” A sobbing laugh wrenched from his chest. “Lucy, I even came throughthatdoor.” Turning fast, he jabbed a finger at the entrance in question. “As I was supposed to.”
As I was supposed to. The meaning of what he was saying began to unfold.
Her heart trembled.
Arran swung back. “But I’m a damned fool who can’t see…who didn’t see, Lucy.” His eyes glittered with emotion. “What I was meant to.”
Her heart trembled. “Wh-what was that?” she whispered, scarcely daring to breathe.
His throat moved. “You.”
A tear slipped free. “I didn’t see you either.”
Arran let out a sound of frustration. “You weren’t supposed to.”
She tipped her head.
He resumed his quick pacing. “Because, mo chridhe, that is not how it was supposed to go, Lucy. You were hard at work, with your head down, while I idled.” His words came quick, as if he feared that not getting them out, he’d lose hold of what he wanted to say. “I had every reason and need to notice you, and then make sure you not only saw me, but never forgot me.”
As my da did my mum…
Her heart shifted.
“And so, Lucy, because you’re so bloody remarkable and brilliant…” Arran’s telling took on an increased urgency. “Because I’m a such a bampot, you had to come walk through my front door.” A pain-filled smile brought his mouth up in the corners. “And then…” Arran angled his body back towards the entrance. “Then…I had to comebackthrough that door.”
Arran stayed that way, with his arm outstretched, blinking dazed eyes.
