Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) by Constance O'Banyon Page B
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Historical, Adult, Action, Regency, 19th century, Daughter, family feud, Scottish Highlands, honor, DeWinter Family, HIGHLAND LOVE SONG, English Duke, Highland Castle, Warrick Glencarin, Betrothed, Bitter Anger, Scot Warriors, Loving Touch
Ads: Link
late to save her.
8
Warrick placed Arrian on the bed and piled woolen coverlets on her. After he had a roaring fire going he boiled some water and made tea, which he laced with sugar. He went to the girl and lifted her head.
"Here, drink this. It'll help warm you."
Arrian pushed the cup away, but he was insistent. Thinking to satisfy him so that he would leave her alone and let her sleep, she took a sip. Finding it to her liking, she drank more.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Lord Warrick's face. "No," she groaned, "not you. I have to get away from you. Leave me alone."
"Not quite yet, my lady. I have to make certain you don't have frost bite. Your body is so cold, we have to warm you up slowly."
He pulled off the covers and removed her wet cloak.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "No, don't."
"You may not like what I must do, but it's for your own good. You were near frozen. I must remove your wet clothing."
She had no more strength to fight him as he slipped her gown over her head and stripped her down to her underclothing.
When she protested weakly, he hushed her with a command, "Be still."
Arrian decided it took too much strength to fight him, so she gave in to his ministering hands.
Warrick wrapped her arms and legs in hot towels with practiced detachment. He paused when he saw the black and blue marks on her shoulders and back. She must have been hurt in the carriage accident. Why hadn't she informed Dr. Edmondson of her injuries?
At last he felt she'd had enough moist heat and wrapped her in a fleece blanket. He carried her over to the fire and sat down with her in his lap.
Arrian, dreaming that she was warm and protected, nestled into the comforting arms that held her. "Ian," she whispered. "Ian."
Warrick trembled with loathing at the sound of the hated name on her lips. He was more sure than ever that this young girl was the one person in all the world he could use to wound his enemies.
Long after Arrian had fallen asleep, he held her in his arms, staring into the fire. If she had come to harm, her death would have been on his soul for all eternity. She mystified him. Why hadn't she complained about her injuries from the carriage accident? Didn't most women like to be fussed over and treated like helpless adornments?
With a sigh, Arrian turned her face to rest against his chest, and he looked down at her. He caught his breath at the sight of her loveliness. She was like a delicate flower. There was an innocence about her and an untouched beauty.
His gaze went back to the fire. He did not want to examine the guilt he was beginning to feel.
But he could not keep his eyes from straying to her face. Silken lashes lay against her creamy skin. He remembered well how those blue eyes could flame with indignation and anger—would he ever see them sparkle with happiness? He had never heard the sound of her laughter—would it be as musical as her speaking voice?
With angry resolve, he stood and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down and pulled the covers over her. Only when he was certain that she was sleeping peacefully did he go outside and unsaddle his horse. He led the animal to shelter and gave it water and oats.
When Warrick returned to the lodge, the girl was still sleeping. After standing over her a moment, he turned away. He could not allow pity to weaken his resolve. He still had a vendetta to settle with the Maclvors, and she was the perfect weapon to use against them.
Arrian snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, not knowing that her fate still lay with the brooding chief of Clan Drummond. She was dreaming that she was back at Ravenworth, safe in her own bed.
Arrian awoke feeling warm and rested. She burrowed her face into the pillow and relished the softness. Her mind was halfway between a dream world and reality, and she preferred the dream world.
Suddenly she became aware of the smell of food and realized she was hungry. Stretching her hands over her head, she
8
Warrick placed Arrian on the bed and piled woolen coverlets on her. After he had a roaring fire going he boiled some water and made tea, which he laced with sugar. He went to the girl and lifted her head.
"Here, drink this. It'll help warm you."
Arrian pushed the cup away, but he was insistent. Thinking to satisfy him so that he would leave her alone and let her sleep, she took a sip. Finding it to her liking, she drank more.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Lord Warrick's face. "No," she groaned, "not you. I have to get away from you. Leave me alone."
"Not quite yet, my lady. I have to make certain you don't have frost bite. Your body is so cold, we have to warm you up slowly."
He pulled off the covers and removed her wet cloak.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "No, don't."
"You may not like what I must do, but it's for your own good. You were near frozen. I must remove your wet clothing."
She had no more strength to fight him as he slipped her gown over her head and stripped her down to her underclothing.
When she protested weakly, he hushed her with a command, "Be still."
Arrian decided it took too much strength to fight him, so she gave in to his ministering hands.
Warrick wrapped her arms and legs in hot towels with practiced detachment. He paused when he saw the black and blue marks on her shoulders and back. She must have been hurt in the carriage accident. Why hadn't she informed Dr. Edmondson of her injuries?
At last he felt she'd had enough moist heat and wrapped her in a fleece blanket. He carried her over to the fire and sat down with her in his lap.
Arrian, dreaming that she was warm and protected, nestled into the comforting arms that held her. "Ian," she whispered. "Ian."
Warrick trembled with loathing at the sound of the hated name on her lips. He was more sure than ever that this young girl was the one person in all the world he could use to wound his enemies.
Long after Arrian had fallen asleep, he held her in his arms, staring into the fire. If she had come to harm, her death would have been on his soul for all eternity. She mystified him. Why hadn't she complained about her injuries from the carriage accident? Didn't most women like to be fussed over and treated like helpless adornments?
With a sigh, Arrian turned her face to rest against his chest, and he looked down at her. He caught his breath at the sight of her loveliness. She was like a delicate flower. There was an innocence about her and an untouched beauty.
His gaze went back to the fire. He did not want to examine the guilt he was beginning to feel.
But he could not keep his eyes from straying to her face. Silken lashes lay against her creamy skin. He remembered well how those blue eyes could flame with indignation and anger—would he ever see them sparkle with happiness? He had never heard the sound of her laughter—would it be as musical as her speaking voice?
With angry resolve, he stood and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down and pulled the covers over her. Only when he was certain that she was sleeping peacefully did he go outside and unsaddle his horse. He led the animal to shelter and gave it water and oats.
When Warrick returned to the lodge, the girl was still sleeping. After standing over her a moment, he turned away. He could not allow pity to weaken his resolve. He still had a vendetta to settle with the Maclvors, and she was the perfect weapon to use against them.
Arrian snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, not knowing that her fate still lay with the brooding chief of Clan Drummond. She was dreaming that she was back at Ravenworth, safe in her own bed.
Arrian awoke feeling warm and rested. She burrowed her face into the pillow and relished the softness. Her mind was halfway between a dream world and reality, and she preferred the dream world.
Suddenly she became aware of the smell of food and realized she was hungry. Stretching her hands over her head, she
Similar Books
