Page 34 of When the Laird Conquers

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Who is that?

Agnes blinked at the man on the shore, who looked like Gordon but could not be. A brother he had not mentioned, perhaps?

Indeed, the man standing there, staring at her, was far more handsome, far less grizzled, and even looked a little younger than Gordon.

“What in the name of God are ye doin’ in the loch, Sunshine?” he growled.

Oh… Oh, goodness, it is him!

She hardly recognized him, but that voice was unmistakably his, and she supposed the eyes were the same. As cold as they were beautiful. A wolf’s eyes.

It was at that moment that she remembered her state of undress. Embarrassed to be so exposed, she twisted around and held her precious cargo in such a way that her breasts were covered.

Although, to his credit, Gordon didn’t seem to be taking in the sight of her bare figure beneath her shift, those grey eyes fixed on her face.

Of course he wouldn’t stare. He is a respectable laird, not some boy who can’t control himself.

With the heat of her mortification staving off the chill in her wet skin, she answered, “I wanted to pick blackberries to surprise Iona with a pie. She mentioned that the best ones grow here by the loch. I was happily gathering them when… I heard a splash.” She glanced down at the tiny creature in her arms. “A hawk must have picked it up, and it must have slipped from the bird’s grip.”

“What is it?” Gordon asked, his gaze still vigilant in its respectfulness.

“I’m not sure. A fox cub, perhaps.” The creature whimpered in her embrace. “Either way, it is just a baby. It would have drowned if I had not been here.”

His expression hardened. “Foxes kill chickens, lass. If it’s a fox cub, ye should have let it drown.”

“You don’t mean that!” she gasped, instinctively covering the little beast’s ears.

Defiant and forgetting all about her nudity, she marched right up to him and shoved the tiny cub in his face.

“Look at it!” she demanded. “Is that not the sweetest creature you have ever seen? And yes, foxes may kill chickens, but this is a baby fox. It isn’t big enough to kill anything, unlike you. Have you no empathy for another living thing?”

The fox cub, playing its part to perfection, chose that moment to lick Gordon’s nose.

“If you still had your beard, it might have turned away,” she said, stifling a laugh. “Come now, it is an innocent. It probably doesn’t even know what a chicken is.”

Gordon pulled back from the cub, eyeing it warily. “It’s a wild animal, lass. It’s nae a pet. Coo over it all ye like, ye’re nae keep⁠—”

At that moment, a second figure came barreling through the trees and onto the lakeshore.

Remembering her nakedness once more, Agnes moved closer to Gordon, using him as a sort of human shield for her dignity. There was no way that Keith would be able to see her, with Gordon’s body as broad as it was. Plus, there was something rather nice about feeling sheltered in the shadow and warmth of him, especially after taking an unexpected dip in that freezing cold loch.

Without removing his gaze from her, Gordon barked, “Leave!”

Agnes blinked at him. He couldn’t be serious. Yes, he had kept his eyes trained on her face, but he could not be so oblivious as to her relative nakedness. Her dress was not so far away, but the man-at-arms would assuredly see everything if she moved to fetch it.

Very well, have it your way. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

Holding the fox cub tightly, she stepped to the side, ready to walk to the boulder where she had left her dress.

Gordon grabbed her and pulled her back in front of him, his voice a harsh rasp as he said, “Nae ye, Sunshine. Obviously nae ye.”

“Oh…” She gulped, feeling a little silly.

But the man-at-arms didn’t seem to realize that the instruction had been for him either, as he stood there uncertainly.

“Is all well, me Laird?” Keith called.