He eyed her for a long moment.
“Put your dress back on,” he ordered her. “And come in behind me. I dinnae need them thinking I took yer honor out there.”
“Oh…?” she murmured, and then the reality of what he was saying seemed to hit her. “Oh!”
Her cheeks flushed a little pink, and she averted her gaze, clearly not quite able to wrap her head around the notion of what he was proposing. He, himself, was doing his best not to consider it either, for he could all too clearly imagine what her naked body would have looked like if they laid together, the softness of her skin. Though he did his best not to linger on it, he could still picture the way the water had clung to her pale neck, like dew on a flower in the morning.
He turned his back to her, gritting his teeth, forcing those images from his mind. He hardly knew this girl, this Sassenach and, soon enough, he’d be rid of her. There was no point allowing his imagination to get the better of him.
The inn before them was buzzing with activity already. He wondered, briefly, if her family had sent forth scouts to try and find her, but he brushed that thought aside at once. The land was difficult to navigate at the best of times, let alone the woods where she had decided to lose herself. He could imagine it would have been all too easy for them to get lost out there, and most of the sensible men would have declined the offer outright.
“What’s yer name?” he asked her, as it suddenly struck him that he had no idea how to address her.
“Why does it matter to you?”
He smirked. She had a fair fire to her, he had to admit that, and he admired that she was so sharp in the way she spoke to him. There were many who did everything they could to grovel at his feet, intent on getting on his good side and proving that they were worthy of his benevolence. He always found himself with much more respect for those who spoke bluntly.
“Amelia.”
She finally blurted the word out, and he tested it inside his head.Amelia. Yes, it seemed to suit her, the sound of the word, like the rush of a river over rocks.
He glanced around, to see her having slipped the dress on beneath his cloak. Though it was still slightly damp, and clung to the outline of her breasts in a way he couldn’t ignore, he jerked his head towards the inn.
“Come, lass. Keep yer kin waiting no longer.”
She bristled slightly at his tone, and it was clear that she was far from used to being told what to do, especially by the likes of him. But, seemingly already resigned to her fate, she dropped her chin to her chest, and allowed him to lead her through the doors.
Inside, the place was warm and bright, full of chatter and conversation. A few glanced up when Arran stepped inside, though most of them, knowing what was best for them, averted their gazes again just as quickly. Arran scanned the room for someone who matched the description of her father, and, sure enough, he spotted a man barely taller than his chest and about as round as an acorn standing in conversation with another person. The man he was talking to was clearly a local, with a heavy drape of tartan over his shoulders, the creases around his eyes speaking to a life that had been lived long and hard.
All at once, the noise in the inn fell away, silence suddenly settling in around them. He noticed that everyone seemed to have turned to look at him—no, not at him, behind him. He glanced around, and sure enough, there she was; Amelia, standing just a few yards away from him. Her jaw was set tight, and her chin was raised, as though daring anyone here to say something to her.
He glanced back towards the man she had identified as her father and, sure enough, his face had paled to a sallow gray at the sight of her. Her sisters hung in the back with her mother,clearly having been warned to keep their distance from her. His thinning hair was a mess, as though he had been running his hands through it non-stop, and his green eyes, the same as Lily’s, were pinned to her with a rage she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. As the quiet hung in the air of the inn, he stalked towards her, his expression twisting into utter disgust. Arran, without thinking, moved to stand beside her; though he knew little of what their quarrel was, he didn’t like the thought of leaving this woman to deal with her father alone.
Even though he knew he should have been back on his horse and into the night by now, leaving all of this far behind him.
4
“Where thehellhave you been?”
Her father’s words made her jump; he was a man who controlled his emotions with great care most of the time, so for him to scream at her with such fervency, she knew she was in mortal trouble. She had done all she could to screw her courage to the sticking place before she had marched inside, but now she was confronted by him, she felt like a little girl again. She stood almost a head taller than him now, but still, when he stomped towards her, she could have sworn she was barely taller than her mother’s apron strings.
“Father, I… I can explain…”
“Yes, and you’d better, and quickly!” he exclaimed as he stormed past Arran and grabbed her arm. She let out a yelp of pain, trying to twist her way out of his grip, but it was too tight. She could already see his fingertips pressing into her flesh, sure they would leave bruises, as they did when she was an errant child, and he had reason to take her in hand.
But, before she could begin to muster an explanation, a voice cut in between them.
“I think ye’d better let go of her, sir.”
Arran stepped forward, his eyes dark as they pinned on to her father. She drew in a sharp breath.
“Please, you don’t have to—” she tried to protest, but he ignored her. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t going to back down on this.
“Stay out of this,” her father snarled, and he yanked her towards him, causing her to stumble while Arran caught her with ease, his arm around her waist, the other on her arm, steadying her so she could find her feet once more.
“And what do you think you’re doing, laying hands on my daughter like that?”
“I’m trying to help her,” he replied calmly. “Now, you tell me what you’re doing, sir.”
