Lord Norton’s eyes went wide with shock, his hands flying to his throat as if he could somehow stop what was already done. He tried to speak—to curse, perhaps, or beg—but only a wet gurgle escaped. Then his knees buckled.
It was over in a heartbeat. He collapsed face-first into the dirt, his blood pooling dark beneath him.
The world went quiet.
Lachlan stood over him for a moment, breathing hard. Then he turned his back on him. His eyes moved slowly to Marian. He had expected her to gaze upon him with horror. Instead, her eyes were filled with relief and another emotion only his heart could decipher.
She sank back into her seat, and he walked back to her, limping slightly from the pain in his leg. “Marian?—”
“I would never.” Her words tumbled over each other, interrupting him. “He tried to force me. He tricked me, and then he wanted me to trick you into a false marriage.” Her breath hitched. “I refused, Lachlan. I would never. Even when he?—”
Lachlan caught her shoulders gently. “For once, stop talkin’, Mairi.”
She fell silent instantly, searching his face. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her in front of his men until he was out of breath.
He could taste salt on her lips, but he did not care. All he wanted at that moment was to hold her and never let go, so he did.
“Yer uncle had one thing right,” he sighed, resting his forehead briefly against hers.
Marian blinked, confused. “What?” she breathed.
Lachlan drew back slightly to look into her eyes. His mouth curved slightly. “Ye will marry me,” he said, as though those were words that men uttered every day.
Marian gaped at him.
A heartbeat passed. Then two. Then Lachlan’s voice softened just enough for the truth to be heard beneath the stubborn pride.
“If ye want to,” he added. “Because I cannae imagine this land without ye in it,Sassenach.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Marian stared at Lachlan in stunned silence.
Of all the things she had expected him to say, those four words were the least of them.
Ye will marry me.
It was hardly a question, though his eyes searched hers expectantly, like he had meant it as one.
Her lips parted slightly. She had never truly imagined she would receive a marriage proposal. For the longest time, she had thought she knew how that part of her life would play out. So she had rarely bothered to think about it.
Her mother would choose the suitor who best met her desires, and an arrangement would be made in private. If she were fortunate enough, she would sit in silence with him a few timesover tea. If she were not, she would only come to know the man she was to wed when she stood beside him at the altar.
There was never a choice in it. It was never a question of what she wanted, and she hadn’t thought it could ever be.
And yet, now, she was sitting at the edge of her seat, in a carriage that had been used to kidnap her, covered in a mess of her own blood and sweat, as Lachlan asked her if she wanted to marry him.
He stared at her lips as he waited for a response, as though her words were the only thing in the world worth hearing.
It made no sense.
He had just discovered the twisted nature of her family, and yet he wanted to marry her. He had just rescued her from the hands of an uncle who tried to kill her with her mother’s approval. Hell, he had even slit the man’s throat for her sake.
Her lips parted again, but for some reason, no words came out.
Her gaze faltered, and Lachlan’s jaw clenched. His eyes flickered with an emotion she had never thought she would see, and her heart swelled, though it also ached slightly.
For the first time in her life, she had been given the chance to make a real choice for herself. And as ironic as it was, she had no clue what to do with it.
