Page 98 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
Everyone present ceased to exist as Marian’s chest almost brushed his, the floral scent of her hair filling his senses as though this were some pleasant moment.
Lachlan scoffed bitterly at the irony of it.
His eyes fell to her chest as it rose and fell heavily to match his own heavy breathing. He lowered himself slightly to meet her gaze.
Why did I stop her?
“I will never sign an acknowledgment,” he murmured, forcing himself to believe it.
Marian did not pull back. Her eyes fell to his lips, then flicked back to his eyes, and he felt as though she could see through him.
“I still have my inheritance,” she said quietly. “I could help your clan. We could be partners if you recognize my claim, and we could?—”
“Never,” Lachlan cut her off, straightening abruptly.
“Why?”
The question caught him off guard.
“Because I daenae trust ye.”
“Why do you not trust me?” Marian’s voice remained steady.
Lachlan’s expression hardened.
She dares to question me.
His grip shifted slightly on her arm.
It would have been better if Marian had abandoned her stubbornness for a moment and stopped challenging him. But this… it unsettled him far more.
Her gaze did not falter at his silence.
“Why?” she pressed, her voice nearly a whisper.
“Because the English never cared for these lands.”
Marian’s eyebrows drew together. “Why do you say that?”
“Ye ken what the English do,Sassenach,” he nearly spat the words at her.
Marian’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “So, that’s it?” she scoffed, taking a step back despite his tightening grip on her arm. “You judge me by people who will always rule with steel?”
Lachlan could hear the disappointment in her voice, but he refused to let it move him.
“I judge ye by what the English always do,” he replied, his voice dropping even lower. “They take what they want, and they daenae care about our lands. And when the land grows difficult, they leave.”
His grip was unyielding on her arm now, and she nearly winced, but he did not see it.
“Do ye expect me to believe ye’ll be any different?”
Marian frowned as she tried to wriggle her arm free, but he did not let go. “I am not them.” Her voice rose slightly.
That broke the dam.
“Even me own maither didnae care to stay,” Lachlan sneered, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. “When the war came, she fled to her pretty English estate the first moment she could.” His voice was quieter now. Colder. “I learned me lesson early enough.”
Finally, his grip loosened. But he still did not let go. He could not bring himself to.
