Page 29 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
Smirking, Callum shifted his stance. “I would never abandon a lady, let alone a wee lamb.”
Irritation flared in her chest as she struggled to maintain her stance. “I hesitate to remind ye, Me Liard, but I was the one who rescued ye from dyin’ beside the road.”
“Aye, and it is about time that I repaid that favor.” He unfurled his arms and began to move toward her.
Before she could answer, he slid down the slope with practiced ease. He crouched beside the trapped lamb and spoke to it in a low Gaelic murmur.
The animal quieted almost at once.
Eleanor watched, annoyed by how competent he looked.
Callum reached into the gap between the rocks, shifted one stone aside, and lifted the lamb free in a single motion. The creature squirmed against his chest, but no longer panicked. “There now,” he said. “Ye are safe.”
Eleanor brushed mud from her sleeves and skirts in a futile attempt. “I was about to do that.”
“I’m certain ye were,” Callum’s tone was light and mocking as he held the lamb under one arm. He had carried out the rescue mission with such ease that she felt impressed by his strength, yet she would never tell him that.
“Shall we go back up then, since ye have already done what I was about to do?” she said in a huff and turned toward the slope, her ego bruised from her failed rescue attempt.
They climbed back to the path together. Callum carried the lamb while Eleanor attempted to preserve what remained of her dignity. The morning breeze carried the scent of wet earth and distant peat smoke.
“Where is its mother?” she asked when they finally reached the top of the ridge.
Callum looked around as he surveyed the land. They were still within the castle boundaries, but far enough away for nobody to be around. “Likely searching the hill. We will take the wee beast to the shepherd’s cottage. He will ken where it belongs.”
Eleanor nodded, it was not as if she had any other ideas she could suggest.
Why are things always so awkward between us?
She allowed him to lead the way away from the ravine.
They walked in awkward silence for a time. The lamb occasionally bleated, and each time Callum absently scratched behind its ear until it settled again.
Eleanor glanced at him. “Ye surprisingly gentle with it.”
“Surprising?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Ye have a reputation for being rather stern.” She lengthened her strides to try to keep up with him.
“Do I now?” His tone was still light as she walked slightly ahead.
She did her best to keep up while hiding the fact that she was getting out of breath. “Terrifying, some would say,” she huffed.
He looked scandalized as she glanced to the side. “And here I was trying so hard to seem welcoming.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
The sound seemed to catch him off guard. His expression softened, and for a brief moment, the teasing ease between them felt unexpectedly natural.
What is it with this man?
Eleanor sobered a bit as she thought of how gruff he could seem at times, and then gentle when she least expected it. He had shown an unexpectedly kind side to his nature the night before. Different from the awkwardness between them, yet still surprising.
They reached a rise overlooking the meadow below. Sunlight finally broke through the clouds. The castle stood behind them, tall and mighty against the brightening sky.
“Thank you,” Eleanor said quietly. “For helping.” The breeze blew a loose strand of her hair across her face as she reached up and pulled it away.
“I suspect ye would have managed eventually,” he responded in a soft tone that was just as surprising as his change in attitude toward her. Had he begun to see her in a different light now that they had spent more time together?
