Page 51 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
Marian did not look to him for help. Instead, her gaze moved briefly across the table. She held her chin high, taking in the men one by one.
Lachlan’s eyebrows drew together slightly.
What are ye thinkin’, Mairi?
“Tha mi an seo,” she said slowly, the words heavy with her accent.I am here.
The hall went dead silent.
When had she learned that?
Lachlan’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward ever so slightly in his chair. Finn’s eyebrows shot up, and several of the men froze, shock written plainly all over their faces.
“And I shall remain here,” she continued in English, her voice steady, “until the dispute is resolved in Edinburgh.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Marian felt as though the walls would close in on her.
The clansmen stared at her, their faces a mix of many different expressions she could not begin to interpret.
Her chest tightened, and she swallowed, surprised that she had somehow been able to string together a sentence in Gaelic.
Tha mi an seo.
She had heard the kitchen maids say those words over and over, but she had never imagined she would one day be clinging to them as though they were a shield. But that was all the Gaelic she knew, and the rest of the meeting passed in a series of hurried, rough words she couldn’t even begin to understand.
She slipped out of the Great Hall immediately after the meeting ended, heading into the courtyard before Lachlan could stop her.A few of his clansmen were already outside, heads bent together in a discussion that seemed rather passionate.
Marian raised her chin. Her fingers curled into the folds of her skirt as she walked across the courtyard, ignoring their whispers and open stares.
She had not planned to spend her morning like this. But here she was, heading toward the other side of the castle in the hope of getting as far away as possible.
It took some time for her heart rate to slow, and even several more minutes to find her favorite spot—the old well at the end of the estate. It was next to a large tree, with branches and leaves that rustled in the soft midday breeze.
She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, and for a moment, she stood there, allowing herself to simply be.
A huff escaped her lips as she thought of Lachlan.
Does he wish to scare me away so badly?
Her chest tightened as she remembered their last discussion by the well. She had been standing at this very spot, and he had claimed her lips with a certain hunger in his eyes. It was with that same hunger that he now turned on her, as though he desperately needed to frustrate her out of Glen Carrick just as he had said.
Marian shook her head—a futile attempt to remove every thought of him from her mind.
Perhaps he is only trying to protect his land against my inheritance claim.
Her shoulders fell slightly, and she raised her chin, staring up at the tree.
Perhaps that is all there is to it.
But nothing could excuse his behavior. He had dragged her into a room full of men, only to deny her the dignity of understanding a single word spoken within it. And on top of that, he had not expected her to be able to answer for herself.
The absurdity of it all might have amused her if it hadn’t been so infuriating.
Petty laird.
Marian sat on the edge of the well, forcing her thoughts into a semblance of order.
