Page 10 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
Suddenly, a piece of wood shifted, causing the flames to flare unexpectedly.
“Oh!” She jumped back, chuckling when she noticed the clanswomen staring at her with cautious intrigue in their wide eyes.
“Careful, my Lady,” Lilly whispered anxiously.
Marian stepped back, allowing her hair to fall safely away. She nodded and smiled at the clanswomen before shifting her attention to other things in the hall.
In the center stood a long table, large enough to accommodate several dozen men at a time. She trailed her fingers lightly along the edge, feeling the roughness of it.
The table bore many marks. Marks of the people who’d eaten, fought, and lived in Glen Carrick for years. It was aged, with scratches, stab wounds, and signs of many repairs. And yet, it stood sturdy, fit to withstand many more years of use.
Like a piece of history.
Marian sighed, her smile wavering slightly.
Glen Carrick was far from the ruin she’d expected to find.
It was a home, bearing the souls of generations that had lived in it for years. It was a fortress, bearing the marks of hardship and the bond of a clan wound so tightly together.
It was lived in.
Lachlan did not enjoy the sight of aSassenachwalking through his halls as though she belonged in them.
He leaned against the stone wall, his brow furrowing as he watched her smile, leaning into the hearth without a single fear in the world.
English lass… bold as she is foolish.
Her long chestnut-brown hair fell just as the flame flared, and he jumped forward—a reflex he was grateful no one noticed. The entire room was staring at her, even the busy clanswomen.
He leaned back, folding his arms loosely as he watched her walk across the hall. Her steps were gentle, as though she were scared to wear out the already smooth stone floor.
She cannae last here.
His lips tightened into a thin line as she approached the old, long table.
He had expected her to look disgusted. To hold her hands up and walk out of the castle, back to whatever part of England she came from. Instead, she traced the rough surface of the table with the tips of her fingers, lingering on its scars like she understood what stories they told.
His jaw tightened slightly.
This was not the reaction he’d expected from aSassenachdressed in fine fabrics and silk gloves. Like most Englishwomen, he’d expected her to look down on his castle and call it crude. But she did none of that.
He took a step closer, his eyebrows raised in suspicion as he followed several paces behind her.
I ken what she’s doin’.
He adjusted his posture when she paused in front of a row of portraits mounted high along the far wall.
She’s tryin’ to gather clues against me clan.
He moved closer to her, close enough that she would feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck if she paid any mind to it. But she didn’t seem to.
She stood in the same spot for minutes, staring at the faces of his ancestors as if she had known them personally. Finally, she moved, only to freeze again in front of his father’s portrait. Her shoulders dropped ever so slightly.
Lachlan cleared his throat loudly enough to draw her out of her daze, and she jumped, whipping around to look at him. He caught a glimpse of her expression before she lowered her gaze.
“Excuse me.” Her voice cracked before she moved away from the portrait wall.
Lachlan looked away.
