Page 21 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
“Aye, well, ye’re goin’ to as well,” Murdoch said at last, his voice harsh. “If his maither left him behind, there must have been a reason. He willnae survive, so put him down, and we’ll be on our way.”
Cecilia held the puppy closer, scowling at him. “I willnae leave him. There are countless reasons that a dog would leave her pups behind, and nae all of them have to do with the health of the pup. It’s snowin’, it’s winter—maybe she realized she couldnae feed ‘em both, or her milk had dried up. There are plenty of reasons, and I’m nae goin’ anywhere without him.”
Murdoch’s eyes flashed, his lip curling as he looked down at the barking puppy. The adorable little creature was as white as snow, save for the black tip of his tail and one black foot.
“He doesnae like ye very much,” Cecilia remarked. “And I can see why. He kens ye’re a mean, old goat who wants him to freeze to death out here in the snow, and I happen to agree with his opinion.”
“Ye realize I could leave yebothto freeze to death out here?” Murdoch said curtly. “I said to yer aunt that I’d find ye, and I’d say I found ye.”
Cecilia shrugged. “Yecoulddo that, but I ken that ye willnae.”
“And why is that?”
“Because yer maither wouldnae forgive ye, and ye respect yer maither,” she replied as boldly as she could, hoping she was right.
She desperately wanted to feel warm again, regardless of her bravado, and she did not want her adventure into the woods to be for nothing. If she had to find her way back on her own, turning up long after he had returned to the castle without them, then so be it. But shewouldbe telling his mother what had happened.
“Get up,” Murdoch grunted.
Cecilia stayed where she was.
“Get up!” he growled, taking the dog from her.
The little beast was not so bold in the crook of Murdoch’s arm, burying his tiny white face in the Laird’s armpit, whimpering instead of barking.
“If I have to ask ye a third time, Iwillleave ye here.”
With every bone aching from the cold, Cecilia lumbered to her feet and dusted the snow off her skirts. Much of it had soaked into her dress already, the cold, wet feeling unpleasant against her skin as she tried to remember how to get her frozen legs to work.
“I’m nae leavin’ the dog,” she insisted, grimacing as she shambled forward.
“I’m holdin’ it, am I nae?” Murdoch muttered.
Nearly knocking her off balance, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, his free arm encircling her shoulders. The heat of him was like a drop of honey to a starving tongue, and though she still feared for the pup, she could not resist Murdoch’s warmth. She held on to him, reveling in his warmth.
Murdoch said nothing as he led her in the opposite direction of his horse, who followed obediently once he realized that his master was on the move.
As Cecilia had said, she did not know the path out of the woodland, but she was quite certain that Murdoch was taking her the wrong way.
She said as much, keeping her eye on the puppy in case Murdoch thought he could drop the creature discreetly.
“We’re nae returnin’ to the castle tonight,” he replied. “It’s gettin’ dark, and ye’re ice cold. Ye’ll be in a worse state if we go back now, as will this wretched hound.”
“I dinnae understand,” she murmured.
If they were not going to the castle, then wherewerethey going? Surely, staying out in the woods was the thing that would make them all colder?
“Cease yer chatterin’ and just follow,” he commanded, shaking his head slightly.
If she had been able to feel her face, she might have disobeyed, but staying silent seemed more prudent when every word was a struggle. And he was so very warm, like a hearth in human form, pressing her against his side.
Before long, after following a path that only he seemed to know, a half-hidden structure came into view. It had a mossy roof and four wooden walls, with what appeared to be a horse stall off to the side, the exterior painted in a mottled pattern that was presumably meant to make it less visible to anyone coming through. Anyone who did not know it was there, at least.
“Thisis where we’re stayin’ for the night?” she asked, surprised.
Murdoch did not look at her. “Ye robbed yerself of the opportunity to sleep in a comfortable bed when ye set out after this wee beastie. If it’s nae to yer likin’, that’s nae me concern.”
He walked away from her, still holding the dog, and opened the door of the hunting cabin. He went inside, his heavy footfalls echoing out into the forest, and emerged a second later.
