Page 34 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
During their meeting in the East Hall, Cecilia had not paid the oldest councilman much attention. He was tall, with a slight hunch, and worryingly thin. He had short gray hair and pale blue eyes. He must have been in his late forties or early fifties. But the sight of him knocked the air out of her lungs for a moment.
He’s around the age me faither would have been…
Perhaps talking about her father had made her think of him again, or perhaps she just missed him more than ever. He would have known how to deal with the likes of Murdoch. One word from her and he would have knocked down the door of that study and given Laird Moore a good hiding for treating his daughter so poorly.
“I’m… very well,” Cecilia mumbled, her heart heavy. “Ye all just gave me a fright, that’s all. I wasnae expectin’ to see a horde comin’ toward me.” She laughed awkwardly.
To her relief, George chuckled.
“After hearin’ what happened to ye out in the woods, I was worried ye might’ve caught an illness,” he explained. “I’m always tellin’ me daughter that she’s nae dressed for the weather, and I’m always worryin’ she’s goin’ to catch a chill. And that’s when it’s summer.”
Cecilia relaxed a little, smiling at the joke. “I’d be more surprised if I hadnae spent eleven years sleepin’ through the bitterest of winter on the cold ground. Me and the cold are old friends.”
“Even so, ye make sure ye keep warm. The weather hasnae turned for the better just yet,” George insisted as the other councilmen chattered behind him.
One councilman leaned over his shoulder. “I dinnae suppose ye’ve seen the Laird this mornin’, have ye?”
“He’s in his study,” Cecilia replied, her voice tight.
She did not want to be reminded of Murdoch. She did not want to think about him ever again.
The same councilman clapped George on the shoulder. “Och, that’s ideal. We can ask him now before he goes out on his mornin’ patrol.”
“Ask him what?” Cecilia blurted out before she could stop herself. Hastily, she added. “Sorry, I ken it’s none of me business, but I should warn ye that he might nae be in any mood for questions. He’s particularly… mercurial this mornin’.”
George waved a dismissive hand. “Och, why shouldnae ye ken? Ye were the one who suggested we designate a leader to keep order. Ye wouldnae believe what we managed to get done yesterday after ye made that suggestion. It seems obvious, aye, but we never thought of it. The Laird never liked the idea before, but if it works, it works.”
The other councilmen nodded and mumbled in agreement.
It was fairly obvious that, as the eldest councilman, George had been elected as the council leader.
“We were hopin’ to ask the Laird to reconsider marryin’ me daughter,” George continued. “Ye remember her, aye? She was the lass in the hall yesterday.”
Cecilia blinked. She had not known what the councilman was going to say, but that had not been on her list at all. Then again, lists seemed to be letting her down lately.
“Aye, of course, I remember Tara,” she said with forced cheer. “The scribe. Well, gentlemen, I wish ye luck. Ye’ll need it. As I said, the Laird is in a queer mood this mornin’. I dinnae envy ye.”
Offering a polite farewell, she watched the councilmen head in the direction of the study and then darted off in search of her aunt and dog. As she walked, confusion swept in like a winter fog, clouding everything inside her already overwrought mind.
Is that why he wouldnae keep his end of the bargain? Is that why he stopped and kicked me out?
She paused to steady her breathing, unsure how to feel. He hadseemedlike he wanted to kiss her, just as he hadseemedlike he wanted to do the things he had whispered seductively in her ear, but both times it had ended up feeling like a mean trick when he had pulled away.
Was Tara the reason? Was he already spoken for, and that was why he kept withdrawing from her? If so, Cecilia did not know if she should be gladder about the situation or even more furious with his actions. She did not want to be someone’s last grasp at premarital freedom… but then had she not done the same thing with her embarrassing, little list?
“Are ye well?” Mairie asked as Cecilia entered the chilly South Hall.
The older woman was alone in the vast room, running up one side and trailing a length of frayed rope that Cecilia could have sworn used to be part of her aunt’s scapular. Dipper chased after her giddily, trying his best to catch the end of the rope.
“Do I look sick?” Cecilia replied, injecting false cheer into her voice. “People have been askin’ me that.”
Mairie walked toward her, smiling in a way that Cecilia had not seen her smile in years. “Nay, ye dinnae look sick. Ye just look… flushed. It’s nae a fever, is it?” She rested her palm against Cecilia’s brow as Dipper finally caught the end of the rope. “Ye dinnae feel too warm.”
“I ran down the stairs,” Cecilia fibbed, laughing as Dipper tugged eagerly on the length of rope and tried to yank it out of Mairie’s hand.
But Mairie was not easily convinced. “Are ye sure ye’re well? I ken ye werenae well yesterday. I checked in on ye, but ye were asleep.”
“I had a headache. It was nothin’. I promise, I’m well,” Cecilia reassured her. “What of ye? How are ye feelin’ after yer deep sleep?”
