Page 27 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
“I dinnae have a name for him yet,” Cecilia said. “But he was worth chasin’ after. I’m just so very sorry that ye’ve been worried about me. I didnae think he’d lead me on a merry chase through the woods or that the woods would be so vast I’d get lost in them.”
Aileen nodded, her eyes following the pup. “He’s a beautiful wee thing! Look at that wee black spot on his tail!” She clasped her hand to her chest. “And now that I ken ye’re safe and sound, I shallnae bear a grudge against the wee fella for makin’ ye run off after him like that.”
“I really am sorry,” Cecilia offered, meaning it.
At the same moment, she searched the faces of the other people gathered at the table in the East Hall. All were unfamiliar to her, and most of them were men, aside from one pretty young lass who could not have been more than a few years older than her.
“Is me aunt nae here?” Cecilia asked, her worries creeping in.
Aileen chuckled. “Nay, she’s still sleepin’, poor thing. She was restless last night, so she asked if I had anythin’ that could help to calm her nerves. I gave her a nip of the healer’s best sleepin’ draught, and it worked better than ye’d expect.”
“She’ll be askin’ ye for the bottle before we depart,” Cecilia teased, grateful that her aunt was safe and sound too. “She barely sleeps at the convent. I dinnae think I’ve seen her rest for more than a few hours a night in all the years I’ve been with her.”
Aileen looked at Cecilia strangely, as if the younger woman had said something that upset her. A moment later, Aileen was pulling her toward the table, where the men had all stopped what they were doing to lavish boyish attention on the equally eager puppy.
One man, in particular, wasted no time in getting down from his chair to play on the floor with the puppy. An exceedingly handsome man with golden brown hair and matching eyes, with a smile so bright and carefree that it felt like the sun piercing through the snow clouds.
“And what would ye say to me stealin’ ye, eh?” he cooed, swiping his hands across the floor while the puppy chased them back and forth, yipping and barking happily at the game. “Shall I have ye for meself, eh? Shall I gobble ye up? Och, I dinnae think I’ve ever seen a pup sweeter than ye, laddie.”
Aileen pulled Cecilia to the foot of the table, where there was an empty chair. “Everyone, it is me pleasure and delight tointroduce ye to Miss Cecilia Adair,” she said brightly. “She’s the honored guest I was tellin’ ye about, for me cèilidh.”
“I keep tryin’ to insist that Aileen should be honored,” Cecilia interjected in earnest. “It’s only right that it should be a Lady who receives the respect of her guests, nae me. I’m nay one of importance.”
“Nonsense,” Aileen scoffed, gesturing to each person in turn. “This is Roger McGinty, Kelvin Stonehaven, Damon Hall…” The names blended into one as she pointed out the eight men around the table. “All councilmen of me son. And this fine lass is Tara MacGill, and that’s her faither beside her, George MacGill.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Yer son allows lasses on his council?”
“Nay,” George replied. “She merely scribes for us.”
Tara bowed her head, her cheeks turning red.
“Merely?” Cecilia frowned. “There’s nay ‘merely’ about it. I cannae imagine it’s easy to scribe a meetin’ of councilmen where everyone is tryin’ to talk over each other. I should ken, I—” She stopped abruptly, remembering Murdoch’s reaction to the revelation that she was the daughter of Laird MacDunn’s second-in-command.
She had a feeling that she would get the same reaction if she mentioned her father to these men, too.
“I’ve had to mediate a group of women shoutin’ at each other about who is doin’ what chores,” she said instead, hoping no one had noticed her hesitation.
The councilmen laughed affably, while Tara raised her head slightly, a look of gratitude in her eyes as they met Cecilia’s. Cecilia gave a small wink in reply, and Tara immediately bowed her head again, hiding a smirk this time.
“And who is the man tryin’ to steal me dog?” Cecilia asked, turning her attention to the man now lying flat on the floor, holding the puppy up in the air, bringing him down to smother him in kisses before lifting him again.
Aileen steered her toward the man, announcing with a strangely pointed note in her voice, “Thisis Lennox Durness, the Laird’s man-at-arms.”
“A pleasure to meet ye, at last,” Lennox offered, diverting his attention from the puppy for a moment. “I’ve heard a lot about ye. And, forgive me, but I think I’m besotted with yer dog.”
Cecilia smiled. “I can see that.”
“What’s his name?” Lennox asked, sitting up and placing the dog in his lap.
“I havenae thought of one yet.” Cecilia did not know if there was anything more attractive than seeing a man dote on a puppy, especially one who was not afraid of appearing foolish.
“I’ll have to ease yer undergarments over yer hips and down yer thighs until ye’re bare to me… And when I’m done, when I’ve tired ye ‘til yer head is spinnin’, ye’ll have nay trouble sleepin’.”
Her heart raced at the memory, reminding her like a rock to the head that therewasone thing more attractive. But the man who had spoken those words was not the man standing in the East Hall, glowering and sternly silent as usual. He was, she had decided, just a figment of fantasy that did not exist.
“Ye should call him… Dipper,” Lennox said decisively.
Cecilia arched an eyebrow. “Dipper? Why is that?”
