Page 21 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #4)
CHAPTER 21
“What are ye doin’ out here, skulkin’ around like rats?” Murdoch snapped, glaring up at the two older women peering over the edge of the middle terrace.
His mother put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “We ought to be askin’ ye the same question!”
“This settles it!” Mairie hissed, huffing and puffing. “If I had doubts before, I dinnae anymore. Ye have certainly ruined me niece! Ye cannae deny it this time, Laird Moore—I’ve just seen ye kiss her with me own eyes!”
Murdoch pulled Cecilia away from the wall and stepped in front of her as if that could somehow protect her. He had been foolish. He had let himself get carried away, losing all control and discipline because of the sorceress behind him, and now he was about to bear the consequences. She was right, he could not claim innocence this time.
“A kiss is nothin’,” he insisted. “I wouldnae be surprised if most of yer flock havenae kissed someone. There’s nay ruination, so dinnae start givin’ commands.”
But Mairie, standing there in her nun’s habit and wimple, a devout woman of God, would not be dissuaded. “Aileen, they must marry, and quickly. I cannae let this slide without due remedy. I willnae have me beloved niece cursed with sin—I refuse!”
“Aye, Murdoch, ye must marry her,” Aileen agreed effusively, shaking her head all the while. “It’s yer duty to marry her now. Ye cannae run away from yer duties. If ye do, ye’re nae fit to be a laird. If ye steal a lass’s virtue with a kiss, then ye pay back what ye took with marriage.”
Murdoch balked, frozen in place as their commands rained down on him. He stared at his mother with cold eyes, unable to believe that she would start questioning his worth simply because he kissed someone. There were countless lairds all over Scotland who kissed countless women and gave it no more mind than they would in choosing a léine for the day. And no one else paid it any mind either.
Camden must have “stolen the virtue” of half of Scotland, and he was never forced into marriage. He married because he found Paisley.
Murdoch had no doubt that if Paisley had not come along, Camden would have continued with his philandering ways until his body no longer had the strength.
“I cannae marry,” he stated firmly. “As I said, a kiss is nothin’. It doesnae mean anythin’, and since the two of ye are the only ones who saw it, then I urge ye to keep quiet about it.”
Mairie looked like she might explode. “I certainly willnae! Where I hail from, a kiss does mean somethin’, and I will see that ye do right by me niece!”
Cecilia raised her hand. “Dinnae bother, Auntie. I dinnae want to marry a beast who wants nothin’ to do with me, so I apologize for disappointin’ ye, but that willnae be happenin’. I’d rather take me chances as a cursed soul, out in the world.”
She pushed past Murdoch, though there was plenty of space, and marched up the steps to where the older women stood. There, she bowed her head to them and then stormed off before anyone could stop her.
“Cecilia, wait!” Mairie shouted after her, but Murdoch was already climbing up the steps.
“Let her go,” he commanded.
Mairie rounded on him. “I’ll do nay such thing. She’s me niece, me only family, and—heaven help me—I am her aunt before anythin’ else. I willnae let ye do this to her. I willnae let ye… mark her and nae make it right.”
“Ye dinnae make demands of me, Maither Superior. I warned ye of that before.” Murdoch glared at her, though inside it was a different story. “I suggest ye return to the festivities. We’ll speak about this tomorrow.”
“Will ye make a weddin’ announcement tomorrow?” Mairie countered stubbornly, her eyes just as frosty as his own.
“Nay, but I will consider terms that will satisfy even ye,” he replied, having no notion of what those terms could be.
Mairie was determined, and, in truth, he had to admire her for it. She was tougher than he had expected a nun to be.
“Murdoch, please…” his mother urged, but he gave her a stern look and walked off.
He could not hear their pleas or demands anymore. He could not even consider what they were requesting, although he knew he was to blame for the predicament he now found himself in.
Cecilia had bewitched him, and he had done nothing to cast away the enchantment. All those years of discipline and restraint had failed him. He was responsible, whether he liked it or not.
What other remedy could there be? he silently wondered as he stomped across the frost-tipped grass, heading back toward the welcoming glow of the castle windows.
I should find Lennox. He’d ken what to do. Or perhaps I could send for Camden—he must’ve gotten himself out of situations like this a time or two.
He grimaced, imagining the smug glee on Camden’s face if he heard of what had happened. Camden would never let him live it down.
He entered the castle, the faint lilt of the music drifting down the otherwise empty hallway. Leaning against the nearest wall, he dropped his chin to his chest and sucked in deep breaths, desperate for some semblance of calm.
I wish I was still in the Great Hall, dancin’ with her, his mind sighed.
A softer, darker voice whispered in reply, Ye should wish ye’d stayed in yer chair, drinkin’ ‘til yer vision blurred and she couldnae bewitch ye anymore. Ye’re weak, laddie. Ye’ve always been weak. This proves it.
He grimaced, clenching his jaw. A moment later, he pushed off the wall and headed for his tower, needing something to distract his mind and his hands for a while. And there was liquor and wine enough up there to help him forget everything if he so wished.
He was barely halfway to his sanctuary when a white blur shot out of an adjacent corridor. A vision in red sprinted out behind the ball of snowy fluff, crying out in exasperation, “Dipper, nay! Dipper, ye come back here now!”
Murdoch did not think. He lunged to the side, catching the pup as it made to dart past him. Dipper wriggled and writhed in protest, whimpering and snapping his little teeth, but Murdoch held him at arm’s length and gave him one of his fiercest looks.
To his surprise, Dipper began wagging his tail, straining to be closer to him instead of trying to get away from him.
“Unhand me puppy!” Cecilia snapped, coming to a stop in front of Murdoch.
“So ye can chase him the rest of the way through the castle?” he retorted, drawing Dipper to his chest.
The puppy wriggled a little more, not to escape but to find a comfortable spot in his arms, and snuggled there.
“I went to check on him, and he slipped past me,” Cecilia said defensively. “Tara was supposed to be watchin’ him, but she wasnae there.”
“I suppose he’s wrecked me door tryin’ to get out,” Murdoch remarked, eyeing the dog. Dipper looked right back at him and jumped up, licking his jaw enthusiastically. “Oi, that’s enough of that.”
The puppy snuggled back into the crook of his arm, while Cecilia watched them with an angry frown on her face.
“Give him back,” she demanded curtly. “I’m retirin’ to me chambers and I dinnae want him anywhere I cannae see him.”
“There’s a cèilidh in yer honor underway.”
“Aye, well, everyone else can enjoy it,” she replied, holding out her hands. “I never asked for it anyway.”
As he took a step closer, Murdoch noticed that her eyes were watery and that the tip of her nose was slightly red as if she had been crying—or trying not to. A strange sensation rose in his chest, a sharp pinch catching him unawares as he looked upon the evidence of her misery.
I upset her.
“I expect yer aunt will come to find ye soon,” he said, puzzled by the discomfort in his chest.
“Much good it’ll do her,” Cecilia shot back, sniffing. “I meant what I said—I’d rather take me chances in the outside world, alone, than be forced into a union with a man who… who… cannae even decide if he tolerates me or if he is just playin’ games with me.”
He understood how his actions must seem to her, how hot and cold he had been in her presence. But the truth was, he did not know why he had behaved the way he had. No woman had ever had any sort of hold over him or had confused him as much as Cecilia did. Even now, he wanted to pull her to him until she did not feel sad anymore—an outlandish impulse that he had no idea what to do with.
“But ye were right,” she continued harshly. “A kiss is nothin’. What ye… made me feel is nothin’. And now that me aunt thinks me sullied, I can just… wander Scotland at me leisure, free as a bird, doin’ exactly as I please with whomever I please. Or I can beg me aunt to let me take me vows anyway and be done with men, once and for all. She always warned me that a devil might come to tempt me, but ye’ve helped me banish the temptation now.”
A shiver ran up and down his spine when she alluded to taking her pleasure from other men. He did not care that she had called him a devil—how could he, when he was being tormented by devils of his own, who saw fit to conjure carnal images of her in the arms of others?
“Nay, I wasnae right,” he blurted out, unable to stop the words.
Her eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“A kiss isnae nothin’, and nor is what happened tonight and last night,” he said evenly. “I threatened yer virtue, and I wouldnae be honorable if I let it remain in a perilous condition. I didnae appreciate me maither and yer aunt makin’ demands, that’s all.”
She frowned at him, her eyes creasing at the corners. “I dinnae understand…”
“I’ll do the honorable thing,” he declared, his chest tightening. “I’ll save yer virtue and do what’s right in this situation.”
She shook her head slowly. “I still dinnae understand.”
“I’ll marry ye, lass.” He took a steadying breath. “I’ll marry ye, but only if ye agree to a mariage blanc. ”
That seemed to confuse her more as she took a half-step backward, fidgeting with the lace trim of her sleeves. “A white marriage? What does that mean?”
Evidently, such terms had never reached her in the convent. Why would they have, when the majority of the women who went into that place never came out of it again? Still, at least she understood French.
“Ye will be free to do as ye wish as me wife, but I willnae touch ye,” he explained, ignoring the pang of yearning that stirred his loins at the mere sight of her.
It would be the most difficult lesson in discipline he had ever learned—resisting her. Just thinking about her moaning his name in the gardens and the utter torture of coating himself in the slick heat of her, teasing her, not being able to sink deep inside her, had him burning with a maddening desire. But he would control himself. It was the only way he could proceed.
“So… nay more of what put us in this predicament in the first place?” she asked in a breathy voice.
He shook his head. “Nay more of anythin’ from yer list. But ye will have all the freedom that is granted to a Lady.”
“ All the freedom…” She paused, her eyes glinting as they met his. “Does that mean ye’ll let other men touch me?”
He walked up to her and lowered the now-sleeping puppy into her arms, leaning close to her ear as he whispered, “Careful, lass. Dinnae make an oath-breaker out of me.” He paused. “And remember what I told ye—do what ye please with whom ye please, as long as ye dinnae mind havin’ their blood on yer hands.”
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.