A thought that speared her heart, terror icing her innards, and not for herself, but for the one living soul she loved above all others and who she was now leaving behind.
Gubbie.
She’d sooner die then know him alone, worse in her aunt’s care, a fate that would doom him.
Aunt Nettie meant well, but she didn’t like animals.
She especially despised cats.
“Guuuubbie!” Alannna yelled, kicking and jerking as best she could, trying to break free. “Stop, please!” She twisted in her captor’s arms, not caring if she fell. “Put me down!”
“In good time,” came her answer, an odd thread of humor in his voice. “I’d ne’er have believed a lady would have so much fire in her blood.”
“Then you’ve never met a Grant,” she snapped, and bit his arm.
Rather than howl with pain, as she’d hoped, he laughed. “Is Gubbie your lover? Did he teach you to fight?”
“He isn’t my lover.” Alanna stiffened, Gubbie’s sweet gray face rising in her mind. “But I love him above all else,” she admitted, her voice cracking.
“Aye, well.” Her captor slowed his horse to a canter, loosened his hold on her just the tiniest bit. “My sorrow that he’ll no’ be seeing you this Yule.”
“You bastard,” Alanna hissed.
“A fiery tongue as well, eh?” The fiend chuckled.
“Take me back or you’ll rue the day you ever set foot in my castle.”
“I already do.”
Alanna huffed, her hands clenched so tight, her fingernails scored her palms. After all, this man -this fiend- had just slain an earl. As she wasn’t ready to die, she didn’t want to rile him overmuch.
Still…
Her cat was her life. She couldn’t, wouldn’t abandon Gubbie. But what could she do? Feeling lost, furious, and desperate, she decided to wheedle.
“Gubbie needs me.”
“Him again?” The dastard glanced down at her, his shaggy dark hair dusted with frost. “Sorry, lass, he’ll have to do without you.”
“He can’t.” She glared back at him, tears stinging her eyes. “He’s old and-”
“A graybeard?”
“Of a sort, aye.” She managed to free an arm, swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “Gubbie is my cat.”
“My sorrow, then.”
“Nae, your fault.” Alanna’s stomach clenched to imagine Gubbie waiting in her bedchamber, worried when she didn’t appear. “You must take me back to him.”
He shook his head, some of the snow in his hair falling onto her. “That’s no’ possible, lassie.”
“It must be.” She wouldn’t give up.
“You’re staying with me, sweeting.” Moonlight glinted on the hard planes of his face, eyes that held hers, seeming to look deep into her soul. “Your Dubbie can-”
“Gubbie,” she corrected on a sob.
“By the gods!” he snarled, tipping his head back to scowl at the snow-clouded heavens. When he looked at her again, his handsome face was fierce. “Only because it’s Yule, my lady. Only just.”
