Page 28 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
She moved a few steps forward, her legs aching slightly.
As an English lady, she wasn’t accustomed to running. She hadn’t had a cause to run since she was a child, but this wasn’t England, and she was not about to let some thieving creature make a fool of her.
Perhaps it was foolish to even pursue the ghost.
She leaned against the wall, drawing a deep, dusty breath and exhaling slowly. It was an attempt to calm her racing heart and shut down the critical corner of her brain.
I cannot give up now.
She straightened and took a few more steps in the dark. The stone floor was rough beneath her feet, untouched by the many years of wear that had smoothed out the rest of the castle.
She felt for the wall with her hands, gathering dust on her fingertips as she traced her way carefully down the corridor.
This might be even more foolish than challenging an angry laird in the rain.
A creak sounded in the distance, and something clattered.
The thought of catching the ghost filled her mind again, and her pulse quickened in excitement. She rushed forward too quickly, getting the hem of her dress caught on something in the dark.
“Oh,” she whispered, careful not to alert whatever she had pursued into the abandoned corridor.
It is close by. I know it.
She reached down, ripping the hem of her dress off the strange hook as gently as it was humanly possible. Then, she heard another clatter, echoing louder than the first.
It is here.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she went still, fixing all her attention on the direction of the sound.
Come now.
She watched the spot like a hawk, catching the movement immediately as a flicker of something gray moved along the wall ahead. She dashed forward, running after the creature.
“Stop!” she called instinctively, as though a ghost might listen to instructions.
The shadow turned sharply around the corner, and Marian did not hesitate. She followed at full speed, colliding directly into a tall, solid wall of muscle.
“Heavens!” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt herself fall backward.
Suddenly, an arm caught her at the waist, stopping her from hitting the floor.
Marian let out a shaky breath, blinking her eyes open to find herself staring intohisdark, intense, and visibly surprised eyes.
The Laird.
“Runnin’ through me corridors now, are ye?”
Lachlan looked down at her, his eyebrows still raised.
This Sassenach.
He had heard noises in the hall. Sounds of hurried, frantic footsteps, like those of a thief.
He came down to investigate, expecting to capture whoever it was. Instead, he had caught a young English lady. And more importantly, he had caught her by the waist.
The hairs on his arm rose as she opened her large blue eyes. He felt her warm, ragged breath against his chest, and his pulse quickened slightly.
Too close.
