Page 33 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
For a moment, he said nothing. His jaw tightened, sharper at that moment than it had been the first time she had seen him. His face was hard, stripped of any trace of his earlier amusement.
His chest rose slowly with a measured breath. His brow furrowed in a way that accentuated his scar.
His eyes darkened dangerously, and his hand curled tighter against the wardrobe, yet his grip on her arm remained gentle. His gaze shifted past her into the room behind, lingering there only for a brief moment. When it returned to her, whatever softness had been there before had entirely vanished.
Have I angered him by wandering here?
“My Laird…” Marian whispered, unsure of what to say.
She briefly considered offering an apology, but he spoke before she could.
“Leave,” he said through gritted teeth.
Marian stepped back, her jaw hanging slightly open in surprise.
“What?” the question slipped past her lips in an almost whisper.
Lachlan’s throat tightened. The air in the room was heavier around him, pressing down on his shoulders like a weight. And yet, she just stood there, innocent, curious, andEnglish.
His nostrils flared, and his knuckles turned white.
“I told ye before,” he said, his voice rougher than he had intended. “There are parts of this castle that answer only to me.”
His words were sharp enough to cut through stone, making her flinch.
Good. Let her flinch.
His gaze dropped to her parted lips for a moment, and his jaw tightened.
’Tis better than?—
He released his grip on her arm, one finger at a time, then dragged his hand down his face with a low grunt.
Marian looked at him, confusion written all over her face.
She doesnae understand. How could she?
His gaze flicked past her into the room. His mother’s bed, the embroidery, the dried rose stem…
Sassenach.
Marian was English, just like his mother. And the best thing Englishwomen knew to do was wander into places they had no business being in, make men believe they’d stay, and then vanish the moment things grew difficult.
His hand twitched against the wardrobe as he glared down at her. She was standing in the same space his mother had once occupied, her hand hovering over the dresses as though she had a right to them. As though she had a right tohim.
She was trampling over his deepest wounds as though they were just another part of her Highland adventure.
“I didn’t realize—” she started, but he raised his hand, cutting her off.
“Ye werenae meant to.” His jaw tightened as he stepped back, putting space between them. “This chamber isnae for guests.”
And that’s all ye’ll ever be, Mairi.
He needed to remember it himself more than he needed her to understand it, so he did not say it out loud.
Marian hesitated. Her gaze flicked once more to the dried rose stem and the unfinished embroidery frame. Then she nodded.
“All right,” she whispered.
