A Question of Lust

by Angeline Fortin

  The simple answer to Moira’s question was a long while, until they next brought food. Vin had been near death himself at that point, simply staring at Jason. He hadn’t moved since he’d heard Jason’s last breath. Hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t drank. Flies had begun to flock to Jason by the time his jailors returned, the tomb had truly become one. To this day, the stink of death seemed to be everywhere.

  When they’d taken him away, Vin had thought he would go mad. Jason was his one last link to reality, to hope. Without him there to talk to, to reassure and to get reassurances from, life lost meaning. His mind had remained locked in that moment for the rest of his imprisonment.

  Jason had died because of Vin, for Vin and that death had left Vin on the brink of madness. That was the past Vin dwelt in for so long. It was the past he wanted to leave behind finally so that he might embrace the future for a change.

  Able to read the unspoken answer to her question, Moira shuddered with the first real pity she had felt for him. How utterly traumatic! She didn’t even need to wonder how such an ordeal could affect a man, because she saw the result of it right before her. Vin’s guilt had become his reality. In his mind, his actions truly killed her brother.

  Kneeling before him, Moira took his hand and pushed back the sleeve to see the scars ringing his wrist. She had seen it before but hadn’t understood. It was a symbol to him, she realized. A representation of his failure. If he couldn’t have saved Jason, he wanted to, at the very least, put her brother out his misery and he hadn’t been able to do even that. Instead, he’d held onto her brother even in death. It was a wonder the guilt hadn’t eaten him alive.

  Moira bent her head and placed a tender kiss on the scar. “None of this is your fault, Vin. You need to stop blaming yourself. I told you weeks ago, look at the life you have and live it, do it to honor Jason if you have to, but stop dwelling in the past and in this guilt. I don’t blame you for Jason’s death, Vin. He made his own choices just as you would have. There was nothing you or anyone could have done to stop him. It’s not your fault.” Moira brushed the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand. “And I’m glad my brother had you there with him in the end, Vin. I’m glad he wasn’t alone. I just wish he hadn’t left you there alone. Loneliness can do awful things to a person. I’m very sorry for that.”

  Moira watched Vin until he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. There was disbelief there, an unwillingness to believe she wasn’t screaming at him, blaming him for Jason’s death. Moira could see he’d blamed himself enough. He didn’t need anyone else’s blame to compound it. How had he even survived? What inner strength of will had Vin discovered to sustain him through the solitude that followed? How had he remained as sane as he had? Her heart ached for him but Moira knew there was nothing she could truly do for him. Vin had her forgiveness as she was sure he had Papa’s and Pops’.

  The only thing for it now was for Vin to forgive himself.

  If he could.

  Sitting back on her heels, Moira pushed herself to stand and turned to leave the room, wanting to talk to her father and grandfather to make certain they had done their best to relieve Vin of his guilt. Pausing at the door, she turned back to find Vin staring after her. Even with grief written all over his face, he was a gorgeous man. That beauty went all the way to his core, too. When Vin cared, he cared deeply, sacrificed endlessly.

  When he did finally love, it would be with his whole heart. It might not be her, but given a solid excuse for his bullheadedness, she could at least do what needed to be done to spare them both more misery in the days to come. “And although you didn’t ask very nicely, I will marry you, Vin.”

  “You will?” Vin asked with some surprise.

  “I will, but only for the same reason you are marrying me,” she shrugged again in that same dismissive gesture and Vin felt a squeeze on his heart. “Because we must.”

  Vin watched Moira disappear through the door, thinking perhaps she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did.

  Chapter 41

  And think not you can guide the course of love.

  For love, if it finds you worthy, shall guide your course.

  Khalil Gibran

  The wedding was scheduled for the next afternoon. Moira heard that Vin and Francis had gone to the bishop to get a special license but Moira hadn’t seen him since their talk in the parlor. Again she had practiced avoidance so she would not have to see the sacrifice written on Vin’s face. She knew he was doing what he must but it wasn’t the way she wanted things to be.

  A marriage of mutual love was all she’d ever wanted. It seemed it wasn’t to be.

  Moira had spoken with her father and grandfather over a dinner they took privately in her rooms. It had been a heart-wrenching night as they discussed Vin’s declaration. They spoke of Jason as they hadn’t in years and Moira had gone to bed saddened by the past and her vision of a future married to a man who didn’t want her.

  If not for the scandal, a run from the altar that would surely bring down on her family and the MacKintoshs, Moira thought she would rather leave it all behind. Her predictions for her married life were so dim. She feared that when all was said and done, she would be lulled by their physical relations in the marital bed for a while before the discontent reared its ugly head once more and she began to hate Vin. Not for what he had done, but what he couldn’t do. Wouldn’t do.

  Now, she was in the rectory at St. Andrews Church just down Prince’s Street near the Queen’s Street Gardens getting dressed for the ceremony that would take place in its small cathedral in just one hour. Her friends were all there to help. It was a fine day, mild and sunny. A perfect day for a wedding if one were in the mood to celebrate. The air held a bit of chill left over from the winter but the sun shone brightly through the trees casting random shadows on the carriage as it had passed under them on the way to the chapel. Coming down from Carlton Terrace on the eastern end of Edinburgh had given them a marvelous view of the city with its multitude of church spires rising from the city and Edinburgh Castle in the distance. The sight was so glorious in the bright sunshine, Moira felt that alone should have boosted her spirits.

  It might have until St. Andrew’s lone towering spire had reminded Moira of where she was going and why.

  “Do you remember how romantic your wedding was Evie?” Abby asked as she helped Moira lower her gown over her head.

  Moira did. While her friend’s all chattered on while Abby fastened the long run of pearl buttons up her back, Moira recalled Eve’s wedding, the flowers, candles and music. The most memorable part for her, however, was the strong mutual love Eve and Francis had shared when they said their vows. Neither had been able to stop smiling. Abby had been the same. Kitty had been the same. Not just because they loved but because they were loved in return. She wouldn’t have that memory, that special moment. Vin was being forced to marry her, forcing her to do it as well.

  Moira sighed heavily. It wasn’t at all how she imagined it. She wanted that same moment to remember. Wanted to be able to recall the look of absolute joy and love on her groom’s face when he made his vows. She didn’t want to remember dread or disgust. There was nothing she could do about it now. Moira had told Vin of her love. He hadn’t reciprocated.

  “You should have let me run away with Harry before Vin ever returned to Edinburgh,” Moira told Eve as Eve handed Moira her long gloves.

  Eve shook her head regretfully. Perhaps the fault was partly hers for letting things go too far, but there was nothing for it now. “Moira, you must be rational about this. You must wed Vin. It’s only proper after what happened.”

  Moira wanted to laugh at that. When Eve had first come to Scotland, she was extremely proper. It just wasn’t a word Moira would use to describe her friend now. “I still think this is ridiculous. Acting as though we’re celebrating! I can guarantee you, Vin isn’t celebrating. He’s probably spending his last moments of freedom trying to drink it all away!”

  Eve’s cool, soothing
voice was soft and low. Melodic as a trickling stream. A voice that made her feel calm...and perhaps a little childish at times. “I can assure you, he is not.”

  “Well, I doubt he’s already at the altar anticipating the moment,” Moira snorted, wishing there was a way to avoid the ‘celebration’ of the blessed event that afternoon. A wedding as lavish as could be thrown together in the space of a day, with reception to follow, so all of Edinburgh’s Society could congratulate her and her husband reunited after years of separation and sadness. Or rather, gauge the level of their bliss to determine the validity of their fictitious engagement. Her friends had to understand how difficult all this was.

  Looking at Eve, Abby and Kitty gathered around her, however, Moira knew she wasn’t going to get sympathy from any of them. They all looked thrilled for her. “Oh, Eve, with the gossip mill working overtime lately, everyone there will know Vin only married because he ruined me!” It was too humiliating. “How can I face them?”

  A hardy laugh came from Kitty at this. “Now, Moira MacKenzie, no one in their right mind is going to look at you and believe that piece of rubbish.”

  “Look at yourself, Moira!” Abby pointed to Moira’s image in the full-length mirror. “Vin is marrying a beautiful woman who loves him. No one will believe differently. You might think Vin marrying you to save your reputation, but for all his words, I know he’d never marry a woman he didn’t love.” Abby and Kitty nodded in unison and even Eve allowed a small smile to cross her lips.

  “But that’s exactly what he’s doing!” Moira argued. “I can’t have a marriage like that!”

  “You have a second chance, Moira,” Eve told her. “You told me once truelove doesn’t just go away. You told me to take a chance and I am going to tell you the same thing.”

  “But he’s an insufferable dolt, Evie!”

  “I know, dear, but there’s no accounting for it.” Eve patted her arm sympathetically. Eve didn’t think that Moira was correct in her interpretation of Vin’s feelings on the matter, however. Surely, she couldn’t have been so wrong? There was affection and tenderness in Vin’s eyes when he looked at Moira. It was more than simple desire, it had to be. She would never have encouraged them if there was any chance she was wrong, but now Eve wasn’t so certain.

  Though Francis had been remarkably forthcoming with his feelings of love, she knew some men had difficulties recognizing and expressing their own feelings. Jack’s desertion of Kitty in New York the previous year was a wonderful example to say nothing of how Richard had abandoned Abby in London to return to Egypt years before. Still, Eve had thought Vin would be more like Francis, more confident in his emotions. She’d never thought it would go so far.

  “I can’t do it. I just can’t do it!” Moira murmured miserably as they pressed her into a chair so Lucy could fix her hair. “Why did I tell him I would?”

  “Of course you can.” Abby smiled encouragingly at Moira from behind her. “You are getting married, Moira!”

  Moira flinched at the word.

  “My lady, you must hold still,” Lucy insisted through a pucker of hairpins.

  “This is absurd! What was I thinking?” She started to toss her head in frustration but stopped at the glare directed to her by the maid.

  “Come on, Moira. You should be happy! You’re marrying the man you love!” Kitty chimed in. “How can you sit there looking as if it’s the end of the world?”

  “I’m very happy,” Moira said through clenched teeth.

  Every one of her friend raised their brows in disbelief.

  “Really,” Moira pasted on a patently false smile. “I’m moderately young and monumentally wealthy. If I’m not happy no one is.”

  They all laughed, even Lucy, and eventually Moira joined them reluctantly.

  “Your sarcasm truly brings out the spirit of the occasion,” Eve rejoined and the smile slid off Moira’s face.

  “It is just a mockery, isn’t it?” she asked mournfully. “A show for the masses? My worries are centered not on this afternoon but on what’s going to happen when he gets me alone and, before one of you makes a suggestive comment to that, I’m serious. What can our life possibly be like when he’s so unhappy?”

  “He won’t be,” Abby insisted. “I promise you, Moira, you will have a long happy marriage. You will have the man you love.”

  “Ugh!” Moira growled. “I just hate this! I wanted a wedding like all of yours!”

  Kitty snorted. “You mean a rushed affair meant to stave off scandal? Why, your wedding will be just like ours!”

  Eve almost choked on her laughter but held it back seeing the despair in Moira’s eyes. “I know what you want, dear! And I wish you were as sure as I am that you have it. He loves you, I know it.”

  “Then why won’t he say anything?” Moira wanted to know. “I had thought maybe he would come to but…”

  “Men are stubborn creatures, Moira,” Abby interjected as Moira stood and bent to straighten her skirts and train around her. “It takes them forever to do the simplest things.”

  “Francis didn’t!” Moira argued. “He’s the one who had to pull Eve in after him kicking and screaming.”

  “I did not scream,” Eve said crossing her arms indignantly.

  “Yes, you did,” Abby argued sotto voce. “We all heard you.”

  There were some strangled sounds around the room before all the women burst out in laughter. They wrapped their arms around one another giggling like schoolgirls just as they had a decade before and Moira felt her heart lighten. Friendship meant everything. It brought you up when you felt blue, it supported one through the worst of times.

  Friendship with Vin had gotten Moira through all the years before this. It could get her through a hasty marriage as well. Her friends all had faith in the future. It wouldn’t hurt for her to have some as well.

  “Oh!” Moira cried, squeezing her friends tightly. “I love you all so much! Thank you for doing your best to raise my spirits. I’m so lucky to have you!”

  “You know,” Eve commented into their huddle. “This will be the first of our weddings when we are all together.”

  “I’m glad you’re all here,” Moira said sincerely. “It makes everything easier.”

  With a final hug, the quartet parted and headed for the door. At the portal, Moira paused to take a deep breath. “I just hope it makes it easy enough.”

  Chapter 42

  Life is the flower for which love is the honey.

  Victor Hugo

  St. Andrews Church

  George Street, Edinburgh

  “Despite our talk, it seems Moira is still terribly put out with Vin,” Eve noted unnecessarily to the man at her side as she slid into the pew. They were all gathered in the first several pews waiting for the ceremony to begin. The church had been cheerfully decorated with hothouse flowers. The weather had cooperated as well beaming bright rays of light through the stained glass windows. Despite that, the room was so glum in atmosphere because of the frowning faces of the wedding couple.

  Vin stood near the altar resting his elbow on the ornately carved pulpit off to the side while he frowned at Moira who lingered just outside the door of the nave as if she might bolt at any moment. Her father lingered close by to detain her if necessary.

  “Yes.” Francis nodded with a wicked grin. “She certainly is. And quite lovely in her pique, I must add.”

  “Really, Francis, there is no reason to be so amused by this,” Eve chided, faithful to her friend. “Vin’s reluctance to wed her has hurt her horribly. Moira loves him dearly and only wanted him to love her in return.”

  “And who is to say he doesn't?”

  “I’d like to think he does as well, Francis, but wishing doesn’t make it true,” Eve told him.

  “My brother is a stubborn, hardheaded Scot, Eden. As stubborn as his bride, I might add.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that Moira is angry with Vin because she believes he wed he
r only because he had to, while Vin is mad at her for believing it. Once they both get past their anger, there will be plenty of time for them both to admit that it was mutual love which brought them together.” Glenrothes took in the pair, swinging his head from left to right and added, “However, knowing just how stubborn they both are, it may take a long while.”

  Eve tried to keep a straight face as he stretched the word out but failed with a giggle. “They are indeed a hardheaded pair,” she confessed. “I suppose we might as well get on with it then. The guests for the reception will be arriving at home before long.”

  Francis agreed and stepped out of the pew crossing to Vin’s side and motioning to the reverend who lingered nearby. “Shall we begin then?”

  Vin shrugged as if it didn’t matter and moved to stand at the foot of the altar. The aisle seemed a long stretch between him and Moira. The dark wood buttresses flying overhead and series of stained-glass windows seemed to stretch between them as gravely as the distance between the hearts of himself and his bride. As vast an expanse as a sea of misery dividing them.

  Francis moved into place at his side as his best man. His brother had been his closest friend for many years before their father had died leaving his title and responsibilities to Francis as the new earl. At eighteen, Francis had to grow up quickly. He’d gotten married and at the same time attended university while looking after the rest of their siblings. Vin had lost a father and a best friend that year as he watched Francis step into the sole parental role for their much younger brothers and sister. Vin couldn’t help but admire him for that though he’d missed his friendship over the years and had turned to Richard and Jason to fill the gap.