Page 51 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
He walked past her, heading for his tower, leaving her to consider his proposal.
As he marched off, he clenched his hands into fists, meaning every word of what he had said. For though he would devote all his efforts to resisting her, determined to never lose control again, he was not about to let any other man touch her. He would kill any man who tried.
CHAPTER 22
“Are ye nae excited?”Tara asked as she dragged a frayed rope back and forth across the floor of the gallery for Dipper to chase. “Anyone would think ye were choosin’ a gown for someone’s funeral, nae a weddin’.”
Cecilia lay back on the cold floor and stared up at the rafters, folding her hands over her stomach. She was half-tempted to nap, considering she had not slept much over the past few days. Her mind was at war with itself again, dredging up vivid memories of the gardens one moment before assaulting her with whispered, “A kiss is nothin’. It doesnae mean anythin’.”Murdoch had not sent her away that night, but he had still managed to reject her.
“I have nay reason to be excited. It’s nothin’ to do with me,” she replied at last, waving a hand toward the far end of the gallery, where Aileen and Mairie were clucking about like mother hens, making arrangements.
Tara quirked an eyebrow. “But it’s… yer weddin’, Cecilia. It’syerweddin’, and it’s takin’ place tomorrow! Should ye nae be a little bit giddy?”
“Probably, but, to me, it’s just takin’ vows in a different form,” Cecilia sighed.
And this castle is just me new convent. I’m stuck again. Trapped somewhere I didnae ask to be.
A shudder of unease ran through her, reminding her of the fear she had felt eleven years ago when Mairie had ushered her through the doors of the convent and closed them behind her. That feeling of being locked in forever. Back then, she at least had a hope of getting out again, which had not been dashed until several years later.
But there was no such hope here.
“Excuse me,” she muttered, getting up in a hurry. “I need some fresh air.”
Tara furrowed her brow. “Do ye want me to join ye?”
“Nay, thank ye.” Cecilia struggled to swallow her rising panic. “Can ye watch Dipper until I return? And if the hens down there ask for my preferences, tell them that I trust their choices.”
She hurried away without another word, her stomach churning, her breaths coming in shallow pants, her temples throbbing asshe raced toward the outside world. She only prayed it would be enough to quell the ocean of fear that crashed and roiled inside her, or at least be enough to make the maelstrom subside.
I should find Murdoch. I should tell him this is a mistake. I should tell him that I wouldrather find me own way in the world.
But she did not know where Murdoch was. For the past three days, since the night that had changed everything, she had not seen hide nor hair of him. She might have assumed he was sequestered in his tower, but she had not heard any of those telltale noises again. For all she knew, he had ridden off and had no intention of returning.
She burst out through the nearest door and stood gasping in the icy air, sucking in breath after desperate breath until her lungs felt like they were filled with frost. Her vision was blurry, and her heart thundered as if it wanted to escape her chest, but she managed to put one foot in front of the other, stepping further into the gardens.
“Are ye well?” a deep voice asked from behind her, making her heart leap into her throat.
“Quite well, thank ye,” she rasped.
A hand closed gently around her upper arm. “With respect, Miss Cecilia, I dinnae think ye are. Ye look pale. Here, let me help ye sit down before ye keel over.”
She did not resist as Lennox led her to the same low wall where she and Tara had watched Dipper play, and helped her sit down. Then, he crouched in front of her, searching her face with concerned eyes.
“Can I fetch ye anythin’? Somethin’ to drink? A restorative tonic from the healer?” he asked. “Och, there’s nae a drop of color left in ye. Me ma would say yer roses have withered in yer cheeks.”
Cecilia coughed out a laugh. “She wouldnae be wrong. I feel somewhat… withered. But nay, I dinnae need anythin’. If I just sit for a moment, I’ll be fine.”
“If ye’re sure.” He rose and sat beside her. “Is it the weddin’ preparations botherin’ ye?”
She shrugged. “In part.”
“Nae so much the blushin’ bride, then.” He smiled affably, his eyes still filled with concern.
“Apparently nae.”
They were silent for a while, both looking out at the tiered gardens and the vast expanse of moorland beyond the castle, stretching all the way to the gray horizon. Another snowstorm was coming, though Cecilia doubted it would make a difference. Whether there were guests or not, she would get married to Murdoch.
“I was surprised to hear that M’Laird proposed marriage,” Lennox admitted. “Ye must mean somethin’ to him if he did that.”
