Melissa glanced toward her gently. “Ye’re quiet.”
Arianna forced a small smile. “Only thinking.”
“About what?”
Arianna hesitated before answering. “About how life rarely unfolds the way we expect.”
Melissa studied her carefully but did not press further. Instead, she squeezed Arianna’s hand once more.
“Aye,” she said softly. “But sometimes it turns out better than we hoped.”
After tidying the room, Melissa gave a small curtsey. “Sleep well, me lady. Ye’ll need yer rest.”
“Thank ye, Melissa,” Arianna replied warmly.
When the door closed, silence returned once more. Arianna slipped beneath the covers, staring up at the dim canopy above her bed. Her thoughts drifted inexorably to Ian, his broad shoulders, his rough hands guiding hers, the heat in his single brown eye.
She turned onto her side, drawing the blanket closer as though it might quell the ache building low in her belly. The third outing loomed ahead like a threshold she both feared and yearned to cross.
Tomorrow would be another outing, and she realized, with a quiet thrill, that she no longer wished to resist it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, Arianna stood in the grand entrance hall of Castle McGuire, her gloved hands clasped before her. Sunlight streamed through the narrow windows, catching in her hair and brightening her eager expression. She had risen before dawn, her pulse humming with anticipation rather than dread. Now that she knew Ian had not forced her hand in marriage, curiosity and excitement stirred freely in her chest.
The heavy doors creaked open, and Ian strode in carrying two leather bags slung over one broad shoulder. He looked every bit the Highland laird, dark hair loose about his shoulders, boots dusted from the yard already. Arianna blinked at the sight of the bags.
“Are we leavin’ the castle entirely?” she asked.
“Aye,” he replied simply, shifting the weight with ease.
“For how long?” she pressed, falling into step beside him as he turned toward the courtyard.
“Och, just the night,” he said, as though it were nothing at all.
“A night?” she echoed, her steps faltering slightly. “Ian, what exactly are ye plannin’?”
He glanced down at her, amusement flickering in his brown eye. “We’re goin’ campin’, lass.”
“Campin’?” she repeated, half scandalized and half intrigued. “As in sleepin’ outdoors?”
“As in sleepin’ under the sky God gave us,” he said dryly.
She hurried to keep pace with him as they crossed into the brisk morning air. “Where are we goin’ to do that?” she demanded.
“Ye’ll see,” he replied.
“That is nae an answer.”
“It’s the only one ye’re gettin’ for now,” he said with a faint smirk.
They reached the stables, where a sturdy chestnut horse waited patiently. Ian set the bags down and began securing them to thesaddle with practiced movements. Arianna watched, fascinated, as he checked the straps and tightened the girth.
“What’s in the bags?” she asked, stepping closer.
“Blankets, food, a small tent,” he answered. “A flask of whisky, should the night grow cold.”
She arched a brow. “Practical and prepared.”
