Page 54 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Willow sank deeper into her seat, disconsolate. “Well, I suppose I will try nae to put so many ribbons on his ears, then.”

“A wise choice,” Daphne agreed. She briefly met Hunter’s gaze and seemed to be holding back a chuckle.

“Perhaps he likes warriors more, anyway,” Willow sighed.

Hunter reached down, tentatively stroking the baby fox’s soft forehead. He had curled up in a tight ball, for all the world like a cat, and closed his eyes.

“Well, if that’s the case, why daenae ye become a warrior yerself, then?” Hunter suggested.

Willow’s head snapped up. “Can I?”

“Aye, of course.”

“What does a warrior do?”

Hunter considered for a moment. “Well, it’s more than swinging a sword, but that’s a good place to start.” Leaning forward, he held the little girl’s gaze. She was transfixed. “Warriors protect people, just like ye protected this wee fox. Do ye think ye could do that?”

“I do,” she breathed. “When do we start?”

“Hold on for a moment,” Daphne interjected, a little uncertainly. “What’s this talk of becoming a warrior?”

“She ought to learn how to defend herself.” Hunter shrugged, downing the last of his drink and wondering if he should get to his feet. “Training is good for everybody, in me opinion.”

“Aye, but nae yet,” Daphne whispered in response. “She’s a wee bit young, daenae ye think?”

“I think that youngsters are in as much danger as anyone else. I’ll do nothing without yer consent, of course.”

The conversation around the table stilled. Lady Pilbury and Helena exchanged quick, uncertain glances. Willow’s eyes went wide, and she glanced uncertainly up at her mother.

“Mama? Can I?”

Daphne let out a long breath and nodded tightly. “I suppose it’ll do nay harm. Ye need to learn to defend yerself sooner or later.”

“Why?”

“Just in case.”

Willow seemed to accept that. Wriggling around, she slipped down from the bench and came pattering around the table. Hunter watched her approach, a little baffled.

How did one deal with a little girl of her age? He didn’t know much about children. Didn’t know anything. Daphne managed it with ease, and so did Helena and even Lady Pilbury.

He watched silently as Willow trotted up to him, beaming.

“Can we train now, then?” she asked hopefully.

He blinked. “Well, I… I daenae see why nae.”

Brightening, Willow seized his hand in both of hers and tugged. “Come on, then! Let’s go, let’s go! I ate all of me breakfast, all of it!”

“Willow…” Daphne warned, a hint of anxiety in her voice.

Hunter knew that she was about to scold the little girl for pulling him around. To forestall it, he gave her a smile and a nod.

“I daenae mind,” he murmured, and allowed himself to be tugged to his feet. The baby fox jumped off his lap, aggrieved, and scuttled off into the shadows.

Willow held onto his hand. Because she was so small, he had to lean right down to keep his hand in hers. If he straightened, he’d either pull away or lift her until she was dangling high above the floor.

She didn’t seem to notice. She tugged him out of the dining room and out along the hallway toward the front door, beyond which was the courtyard. She chattered as they went.