Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

aunt explaining that the animals of the Highlands had thicker coats than those in England, to protect them from the harsher climate.
    She was so weary, perhaps she would rest for only a short while and then continue her flight. Perhaps the storm would blow itself out and she would be able to find the road to Aberdeen.
     
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    Arrian didn't know how much time had passed when she awoke in bewilderment. She stood up slowly and cried out when she discovered that the horse had run away. Leaning her head against the boulder, she moaned in misery. Night was encroaching, and she would surely freeze. Even now her legs were so numb that she could hardly feel them as she slumped to the ground.
    As time passed, Arrian realized her situation was desperate. She closed her eyes, knowing that sleep was about to claim her, perhaps a permanent sleep. She was freezing, her life was inching away, and she didn't even care. She only wanted to give herself over to the lethargic feeling that was enveloping her so she would feel no more pain . . .
     
    Mactavish grabbed Warrick's reins and yelled to be heard above the wind. "It's no use. We'll no find her in this. She must be frozen by now, unless she found someone to take her into their home."
    Warrick wrenched his reins from Mactavish's hands. "I'll not stop. She's lost and alone and it's my fault. I'll find her."
    On they pushed, with Tam riding just behind them. By late afternoon the wind had died down and the snow had stopped. Warrick was beginning to feel the futility of their mission. The girl must be dead by now. How could anyone who was unaccustomed to the Highlands survive in such a storm?
    It was Tam who spotted Titus first. The tired horse limped toward them on his homeward trek. Warrick urged his mount forward and caught the reins. He bit back his anger at seeing the magnificent animal in such a state.
    "Tam, take Titus back to the stable. MacTavish and I will continue to search for the girl. Titus's prints should lead us to her, if they're still visible."
     
    Arrian awakened as she felt hands pulling at her, trying to make her stand against her will. She was floating in a shadowy world where she no longer felt the cold. "Leave me alone," she murmured.
    Against her weak protest, she was lifted into strong arms and wrapped in a fur robe. Was she dreaming, or was she being carried on horseback?
    She heard mumbling voices, but nothing they said mattered to her. She just wanted to sleep.
    "Mactavish, ride back and inform Lady Mary that we found her niece. It will be better if I take her to the hunting lodge. In her condition, I don't think it's wise to make the long ride home. Assure her aunt that I'll bring her back tomorrow when she is well enough to travel."
    Arrian snuggled against the hard body, reveling in the warmth. Then for a moment she opened her eyes and looked up at Lord Warrick in sudden fright. He tightened his arms around her and whispered in her ear, "Don't be frightened, my lady, you're safe now."
    Warrick guided his horse down the familiar path, knowing he had to get to his lodge as soon as possible. The horse stumbled on a slippery incline and almost lost its footing, so Warrick had to slow his pace.
    He held the girl close to him, feeling agony because he was responsible for her flight. He had pushed her too hard and too soon, and it must have terrified her.
    The moon drifted out from behind a cloud and washed the countryside with its light. He glanced down at the sleeping girl. She was so lovely and helpless. A strange yearning came over Warrick—one he neither understood nor welcomed.
    Out of the darkness he spotted the hunting lodge and nudged his horse to a faster pace. The girl had been exposed to the elements for hours. He had to get her inside.
    She was so limp and pale, even now it might be too