“Ye weren’t here to claim him,” she said, narrowing her eyes to angry slits. “So, aye, Ragnall is my son.”
“How could I claim him if I didn’t know about him?” Duncan shouted. “Ye didn’t tell me ye were pregnant.”
Moira wrenched free of him. Her breasts rose and fell in harsh breaths as her eyes burned holes into him. “Ye didn’t bother staying to find out, did ye?”
Chapter 27
Duncan stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Moira had forgotten Connor was in the room until he ran out after Duncan and the door slammed a second time.
Moira sank into the closest chair, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Too many emotions swirled inside her. Relief that Duncan had found her son. Anger that Duncan had left Ragnall at Trotternish Castle. Confusion over Duncan’s knowing he was Ragnall’s father. And, finally, regret over how he had learned the truth.
She did not know how long she had sat there, unable to gather herself to leave, when she heard the latch on the door. Startled from her thoughts, she looked about her and saw that the light filtering through the narrow windows had dimmed from midday to late afternoon.
Connor came in alone, looking grim. In the tense silence that hung between them, the gurgle of the whiskey as he refilled his cup from the jug seemed unnaturally loud. Then he leaned on the table and fixed his hard, steely-blue gaze on her.
“I thought you’d grown up, but you’re as selfish as ye were as a child,” he said, in a tight voice. “How could ye not tell Duncan he had a son?”
She should have known her brother would take Duncan’s side in this.
“Don’t ye dare judge me, Connor MacDonald,” she said, clenching the edge of the table. “Ye don’t know how it was for me. Ye know nothing at all about it.”
“Ye did not deny that ye knew the child was Duncan’s all along,” Connor said. “Ye should have told him.”
“I had my reasons not to.” Moira went to stand by the window and folded her arms.
“I hope they’re good ones, but it’s not me ye need to explain it to,” Connor said. “We’re leaving soon to take Trotternish Castle, so ye don’t have much time.”
“Don’t play chieftain with me,” she said.
“I am your chieftain,” Connor said, in a commanding voice, “and I’m telling ye to make this right.”
Moira pressed her lips together and glared at her brother.
“When a man goes to fight for his clan, ye can never be certain he’ll return,” Connor said. “Don’t leave it like this.”
Ach, it was not fair for Connor to use that argument against her.
“Where is he?” she snapped.
Connor picked up his drink and sipped it. “I expect he’s gone up to his cottage.”
Moira climbed the hill, mud clinging to her skirts like the guilt and resentment she carried. When she reached the cottage, she pulled the door open without bothering to knock. Duncan stood in the center of the room. His rage was like a living creature filling the small cottage.
“I’ll ask ye again,” he said. “Why did ye not tell me I have a son?”
“I might have told ye before ye went to Trotternish Castle,” she said, “if ye had bothered to share the news with me that ye were paying a visit on the MacLeods.”
“That was clan business,” Duncan said. “I couldn’t tell anyone, and I didn’t lie to ye.”
“I’d wager ye trusted Ian with the information,” she said. “And Alex, too, if ye saw him.”
“Ye lied to me about my son,” Duncan said, clenching his fists. “I want to know why.”
“All right, I’ll tell ye.” It was time to get it all out on the table and see where the pieces fell. “Ye didn’t deserve to know the truth.”
Moira was furious that tears were stinging the back of her eyes.
“Ye took your clothes off for me, but ye couldn’t tell me the truth about Ragnall?” Duncan said, his voice growing louder.
“Going to bed with ye has nothing to do with it,” she said.
“Nothing to do with it?” he shouted.
“Why should I trust ye with my son, who is more precious to me than anything in this life, after ye left me alone and pregnant?”
“I asked ye that last night before your father sent me away,” Duncan said, “and ye told me ye weren’t with child.”
“I didn’t know until after you’d gone,” Moira bit out.
Duncan raked his hands through his hair as he started pacing the tiny room, making it seem even smaller than it was. “Then how can ye blame me for not knowing?”
“Did it never occur to ye that I might discover I was with child after ye left?” Moira asked, her voice strained. “Could ye be that ignorant?”
Duncan stopped his pacing. He did not answer her for a long while, and when he did, it sounded as though the words were torn from his chest. “I did not think you were. But aye, I did know it was possible.”
She’d known it all along. “But ye didn’t care enough for me or our child to stay,” she said, choking on the words. “Ye left me to face all that alone.”
Duncan looked away from her, but she could see his raw emotion in the tension in his jaw and the wildly beating pulse at his throat.
“Why did ye leave me?” Moira stepped close to him and clenched her fists in his shirt. “Why, Duncan, why?”
The silence stretched out between them like a fraying rope while she waited for him to finally tell her.
“I told ye before. Your father found out about us,” Duncan said in a quiet voice. “He was my chieftain, and he commanded me to go with the others to France. It was obey or die.”
Moira stared into his eyes searching for the truth. Duncan was holding something back.
“You’re the most stubborn and determined man I know,” she said. “If ye truly wanted me, ye would have found a way.”
Duncan pressed his lips together in a tight line.
“Ye owe me the truth, Duncan.”
“I cared enough to leave,” he said between his teeth.
“No,” she said. “Ye didn’t care enough.”
“Do ye think leaving ye was easy for me?” he shouted, his control snapping. He took hold of her arms and backed her against the door. “Do ye think I wanted to let some other man have ye?”
“You are the one who left me,” she said, her voice thick in her throat.
“I wanted to die rather than leave ye,” he said, his eyes wild.
“Then why did ye do it?” she shouted back.
“Because we would have had to leave the clan,” he said, “and I couldn’t do that to you.”
“I don’t believe ye,” she said. “Even if my father did threaten to banish us, that would not be reason enough.”
His eyes burned into her and the pulse at his temple throbbed, but he said nothing.
“I’ve waited seven years for the truth,” Moira said. “You tell me all of it, Duncan MacDonald.”
“All right,” Duncan said in a hard voice. “I loved ye with all my heart, but I knew ye for the spoiled lass that ye were. Ye were used to having everything come easy and just as ye wanted it. Ye liked your jewels and silk gowns, servants to wait on ye hand and foot, and sitting at the high table. I couldn’t give any of that to ye.”
“Ye left me so I could have silk gowns and servants?” Moira could not believe she was hearing this. “That is why ye deserted me?”
“Ye hadn’t suffered a day in your life,” he said. “Ye would have left me in a week.”
“I would never have left ye.”
“Ye could not have lived the kind of life we would have had, ostracized from our clan and living from place to place while I fought for whoever could pay me most.” Duncan rested his hands on the door on either side of her head and leaned his face close to hers. “I’m telling ye, I had no choice.”
“No, Duncan. You made a choice,” she said, tapping her finger against his chest.
“Leaving ye was the hardest thing I’ve
ever had to do,” Duncan said, his voice strained. “It nearly broke me.”
“I would have lived anywhere, gone anywhere, just to be with ye. That’s how much I loved ye,” she said, choking back tears. “But ye had no faith in me.”
“I didn’t have faith in ye, and I wasn’t wrong,” Duncan said, his eyes fierce. “You’ve changed, Moira. Perhaps ye would be willing to make those sacrifices today, but not then.”
“Ye never gave me the chance,” she said. “Ye should have.”
“All I wanted was for ye to be happy,” Duncan cupped her cheek with his palm. “I couldn’t be responsible for making ye suffer.”
“That is precisely what ye did,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Your father doted on ye so,” Duncan said. “I believed he would marry ye to a good man, when the time came.”
“Well, he didn’t.” She shoved him away with both hands and jerked the door open.
Chapter 28
Duncan’s hopes and dreams were crumbling beneath his feet as Moira opened the door. He was losing her again, and this time it would be forever.
“Don’t leave me.” He grabbed her hand and dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry for the unspeakable things that happened to ye after I left for France.”
Though Duncan had not meant for any of it to happen, he understood why she blamed him. He had been too concerned about defending his decision, when he should have apologized to her from the start.
“I would never hurt ye on purpose,” he said. “Ye know that.”
Moira’s eyes were swimming with unshed tears, but her back was stiff, and she still had one hand on the door.
“I love ye, Moira MacDonald. I always have,” he said. “We have a son we should raise together. I’m asking ye to trust me and give me another chance.”
“I can’t be with ye, unless ye trust me as well,” Moira said.
Duncan had no notion what she meant, but if Moira was setting conditions, instead of refusing him, that was a very good sign. He got up off his knees, reached around her, and closed the door.
“I love ye,” Moira said, her eyes flashing, “but I will never again be with a man who does not respect me.”
She loved him. Duncan had feared he would never hear her say those words to him again. Despite her angry tone, they were a healing balm to his soul.
“Tell me what ye want, mo leannain,” my sweetheart, he said, taking her hand again, “and I’ll do it.”
“I’m no fragile flower. I fended for myself for seven long years without ye,” she said. “Don’t ye dare treat me as if I were a spoiled lass who could not survive without fine gowns and silver cups.”
Did he think of her that way still? Duncan reflected on how he had found her in Ireland, battered and lying in a pool of blood; the dangerous trip to Skye, which she endured without complaint; and her foolish, but brave attempt to reach Dunvegan Castle by walking all night on her own.
“Ye said I am a stubborn man, and you’re right,” Duncan said. “Ye have changed, and I’ve been slow to accept it.”
“I mean it, Duncan,” she said, pinning him with a hard look. “I won’t have ye thinking of me as an irresponsible child who will run when things get hard.”
Duncan loved to see her full of life like this. By the saints, she was gorgeous when she was angry, though he was not foolish enough to say it.
“I know ye are as strong and brave as ye are beautiful,” he said, pulling her hard against him. “And believe me, I don’t think of ye as a child.”
Duncan clamped his mouth over hers and kissed her with all the passion welling up in his heart. After a moment, she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back with such fire that he wanted to drop to the floor and take her right there.
When she pulled away, he was breathless. Duncan had not believed he could love Moira more than he had when she was an enchanting lass of seventeen, but he loved this passionate woman in his arms even more.
“If ye leave me again,” she said. “I swear, I’ll murder ye.”
Given what she’d done to her last husband, Duncan believed she meant it.
* * *
As they made love, Moira finally let go of her heart.
She was aware that Duncan, being a man, assumed she had given it to him when they made love for the first time since finding each other again. But trusting him with her heart was a much bigger leap for her than trusting him with her body.
After all she had been through, it was not easy to stifle her fears that marriage would suffocate her. But Duncan recognized that the scars on her soul had made her strong, and he did not need her to be weak. He would not try to make her be something less, a shadow of herself, as Sean had tried to do.
She let all the layers of protection slowly melt away in his arms.
“I love ye,” Duncan said over and over as he moved inside her, quelling her last shred of doubt. “I love ye forever. No matter what comes.”
No matter what comes.
“I love ye, too,” she said, holding his face between her hands. “Always and forever.”
For the first time since Moira was seventeen, she gave herself to Duncan without holding back any part of herself.
* * *
“The captain of Connor’s guard disappeared again, and no one knows where,” Hugh said. “I’m certain his coming and going in secret is leading up to an attack.”
“Sounds to me as if he’s sneaking off to fook another man’s wife,” Erik said.
“Not Duncan MacDonald,” Hugh said with a laugh. “He’s straight as an arrow, the sort who would choose death over dishonor.”
“Hmmph,” Erik snorted.
“This Duncan is a fearsome fighter—I’ve seen him,” Hugh said, shaking his head. “And there’s no one Connor trusts more.”
Erik shrugged. What could a lone man do?
“I suspect Connor has sent Duncan to your clan’s other enemies to seek their help in an attack on Trotternish.”
“Your suspicions are useless,” Erik said. “I’ve told ye before, I need information.”
“I have my spies watching,” Hugh said, “but Connor is keeping this very close.”
* * *
Moira stood outside the cottage with the wind whipping her hair around her face as she watched for Duncan. Since his return from Trotternish yesterday, her emotions had been as wild as the weather, constantly fluctuating from anxiety over her son, to fear for Duncan and the other men who would soon be going into battle, to a daze of happiness over the love between her and Duncan.
Aye, she did love him.
Even so, putting her trust in Duncan felt like closing her eyes and jumping off a cliff. But she was making that leap of faith.
“Duncan!” she called, waving her arms when she finally saw him coming up the path. When she ran to meet him, he lifted her off her feet.
“Ye shouldn’t be waiting outside in the cold,” Duncan said, but from the way he was smiling, she knew it pleased him. “I wish I had more time, but Ian sent word that Alex has arrived at Knock Castle. Connor and I are riding over there this afternoon.”
Despite what Duncan said about not having much time, they wound up in Duncan’s bed. Moira lay warm and cozy in his arms, listening to the wind pound against the shutters and thinking how happy she was. Though she had no doubt that Duncan wanted to marry her, she was starting to wonder why he did not speak of it.
“Is Connor being difficult about giving his approval for us to wed?” Moira tilted her head back to smile up at Duncan. “I told him I would never wed again, so perhaps he needs to hear from me that I’ve changed my mind.”
“I haven’t spoken to Connor yet,” Duncan said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.
Moira got up on one elbow to have a better look at him. “Why not?”
When Duncan pressed his lips together and did not answer, Moira felt as if the ground were sinking under her.
“Fool that I am,” she said, “I thought ye meant to marry me
this time.”
“There is nothing I want more in this life.” Duncan reached for her hand, but she jerked away.
“Then what are ye waiting for?” she asked.
“I must have a better home for ye than this,” Duncan said.
“You’ll marry me when ye have a better home?” she asked with an edge to her voice. “What if ye never do?”
“I will.”
“Ye can’t know that,” she said.
“We’ll get married as soon as I’m keeper of Trotternish Castle,” Duncan said. “That won’t be long at all. We’re planning our attack today.”
“Are ye saying ye won’t marry me unless ye take the castle and Connor makes ye the keeper of it?”
“I’m just saying we need to wait a wee bit,” he said.
“Why?” Anger started in her belly and spread out through the rest of her body until she felt as if she would burst with it. “As long as I have you, Ragnall, and a roof over our heads, I’ll be happy.”
“Damn it, woman,” Duncan said. “Have ye no respect for a man’s pride?”
“I think ye care more for your pride than ye do for me,” she said, her voice low and thick with emotion. “Ye want to marry me one day when it is convenient for ye, after you’ve done every other bloody thing that is more important to ye.”
“’Tis because I care so much that I want to wait,” he said.
“And ye left me to go to France because ye cared too much,” she said, fighting the well of emotion that threatened to choke her.
“Can’t ye understand that I need to be able to provide ye with a proper home?” Duncan asked.
“Why?” she demanded. “If I don’t care, why do you?”
“I can’t explain it any better.” He held her face between his hands. “It matters to me. It just does.”
“The truth is that ye don’t trust me to know my own heart and ye never have,” she said.
“I didn’t say that,” he said.
“Ye think I’ll change my mind about ye if ye can’t give me a fine castle to live in,” she said. “That’s why ye left me before and why ye won’t marry me now.”
The Warrior Page 17
