Page 31 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
He raised an eyebrow. “Ye realize I can just take it.”
“I do, but I dinnae think ye will.” She took a breath. “And this might nae be the list of things I remembered. Itcouldbe a decoy.”
He sat back, vexed and impressed in equal measure. In truth, he had thought this was all he wanted from her, to hear what she knew about MacDunn, but the last few sleepless nights suggested otherwise. Nevertheless, he had waited a long time to gainsomenew information about the Scourge of the Highlands. He would not risk that now.
“Go on,” he said.
“The most valuable thing I could remember is this,” she began, closing her eyes as if it helped with the recollection. “Me faither wrote to me when I was six-and-ten. He said he hoped to return home soon, as he thought they were close to finding ‘it.’ Now, I dinnae ken what ‘it’ was or is, but it seems to me that Laird MacDunn was searching for something very important to him. Something so important that he would go to war for it and keep fighting for years… Years after me faither and countless others fell in battle for his cause, by the sounds of it. Indeed, it sounds like he’sstillsearchin’ for it.”
Murdoch let her words sink in, mulling over them with concealed interest. He had often wondered what MacDunn’s motivations for razing village after village and ransacking castles and keeps were, but he had always assumed the man was crazed and bloodthirsty, attacking for the sake of it. He had never suspected that there might be a tangible reason.
But what could he be searchin’ for so violently, for so many years?
Murdoch had heard the stories, had seen the carnage and chaos left behind. Just because MacDunn was looking for something did not mean he was not crazed and bloodthirsty. He would have to be, to do what he had done.
Is it gold? Some treasure that was stolen from him by another Laird?
It seemed the likeliest possibility, and bloodthirsty men had waged war for far less.
“What did yer faither say about this ‘it’ they were searchin’ for?” Murdoch asked, expecting her full cooperation.
Cecilia hesitated. “That’s the problem, M’Laird. Me faither died after that letter was sent. It was the last letter I received from him. He didnae give any details about what they were seekin’, but Idoken that if ye dinnae have it, ye have nay reason to worry about MacDunn attackin’ ye or yer clan.”
Worry?
Murdoch almost scoffed.
I’m nae worried. I’d relish the chance to meet him face-to-face and cut him down with me own sword, at last.
“I see,” was all he said instead, his mind racing with the possibilities of this mysterious thing that MacDunn had been seeking.
Cecilia straightened up, pulling her shoulders back. “But there’s somethin’ else ye should ken.”
“I’m listenin’,” he replied.
“Me faither was a good man. The best of men. He wouldnae have allied himself with someone as awful as this MacDunn seems to be. I think there’s been a mistake,” she said, faltering.
Anger rose in Murdoch’s chest as he stared at her, but it simmered down a moment later when he noticed the sorrow in her eyes. Clearly, she had loved her father enough to misjudge him. After all, she was ten years old the last time she saw him, and a ten-year-old knew nothing of the world or men’s greed.
So, against all reason, he decided to be generous. “Either that or he allied himself with MacDunn to protect ye. His family. What was the alternative?”
“Well… me faither did say, the night I was taken to the convent, that those who hadnae joined Laird MacDunn were runnin’ for their lives,” she replied quietly, as if understanding had dawned.
“Exactly. Yer faither made a choice. It killed him, but it spared ye.”
Her throat bobbed as she fumbled with the square of paper in her hand. “It didnae spare me maither and grandmaither, though.”
Murdoch did not know what to say to that, already uncomfortable with showing softness when he should have chided her for making such an idiotic remark about MacDunn. He could not understand feeling any affection for one’s father, but hecouldunderstand love for one’s mother. And the loss of a grandmother.
I’m sorry that ye had so many loved ones taken from ye.
But he could not bring himself to speak the words out loud.
“Aye, well, that’s what happens in war,” he muttered, refusing to look her in the eye. If he did, he did not know what he might do or say to comfort her. “Was that everythin’ ye had to say?”
Surely, she could have remembered that without having to write anything down. Maybe the paper in her hand really was a decoy to make him think she had more information to offer.
I should send scouts to see what they can find out about this item or treasure that MacDunn is searchin’ for…
