Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds

by Adamina Young

  “A few days? Oh, Moira. I know that Connor wanted to marry ye all those years ago. I often wondered if he had the chance to tell ye.” Ainsley’s eyes filled with tears. “I wrote ye letters. Dozens of them.”

  “I know.” There were so many things she regretted. “Ye and Senga both did. I didnae open them. Believe me, Ainsley, when I tell ye that I understand right now how ye feel. The fear. The hopelessness. When I left that day, I had to walk home. Like a child, I thought I would find someone to help me. I couldnae have been more wrong.”

  “Moira,” Grace whimpered.

  She shook her head. “The details arenae important. When I returned to Hamilton, I was filled with fear and hate. I cut myself off. That is why I didnae respond to ye. I couldnae handle anything that reminded me of that day. Grace tells me that Senga is happily married and raising a brood of lads. I had thought the same of ye.”

  “We are together now,” Grace declared. “And we have much time to make up for. From this day forward, our past is just that: our past. And that is where it will stay. We will forge ahead and make new memories.”

  “Terrorizing the guards?” Ainsley asked with a faint smile.

  “Oh, surely we have outgrown that!”

  Grace grinned. “Well, we need something to enforce our bond. Perhaps we will outgrow that in a few months. I do have some ideas.”

  Moira groaned even as Ainsley laughed, and in that moment, Moira felt like everything would be all right.

  They spent the day in Grace’s chambers, laughing as they went through her wardrobe. Ainsley had come with no more than the dress on her back, so she would need clothes, and they insisted that Moira needed a wedding dress. It had been so long since she’d had female company that she felt odd playing their girlish games, but at the same time, she felt loved.

  Strange. The only person who had loved her in a long time was her uncle. She was so used to being alone. It was overwhelming.

  “I think ’tis romantic,” Ainsley declared after she and Grace told her the story of how Connor had rescued and proposed to her. “The two of ye are meant to be together. I thought I had lost faith in romance, but the two of ye make me feel giddy.”

  “The wine is making ye giddy,” Moira said wryly as she nodded at Ainsley’s cup. They’d brought up a bottle to help ease Ainsley’s nerves, and she’d had a bit too much. “There is nothing romantic about it. Connor needs an heir, and I need sanctuary. We willnae be living together as husband and wife. Grace has already picked up a cottage for me.”

  “Moira, ye do know that ye will have to spend some time with Connor to make that heir, right?” Ainsley pointed out.

  That brought up a whole new memory that she wasn’t ready to share with anyone, least of all with Connor’s sister in the room. “Aye, I do understand that.”

  “Well, I cannae comment until the I see the two of ye together, but I will, and I suspect that I will be right. Doonae fight me on this, Moira. I need some happiness in my life.”

  “’Twill be nothing more than a delusion. We will be happy, I think, but not in the way that ye are thinking. Grace, I cannae comprehend how ye have so many dresses when ye spend every moment that ye can in trousers.”

  The dark-haired beauty smiled mischievously. “I tried to compromise and wear a kilt. I thought Connor was going to die right then and there. He buys me the dresses hoping that I will wear fewer trousers, but honestly, how is anyone supposed to learn swordplay in a dress? I trip over the bloody thing all the time. Besides, the dresses will come in handy. Ye and Ainsley both need a wardrobe, and I have enough for all three of us!”

  “Perhaps I should learn swordplay,” Ainsley said as she twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I doonae ever want to feel that way again.”

  “And ye willnae. Ye doonae have to learn to fight with a sword to know how to defend yerself. My brothers taught me a few things, and I will share them with ye, but not until after ye are healed, Ainsley.”

  Her face brightened and even Grace looked intrigued. Remembering her own terror, Moira said, “Aye. No one will be able to hurt us again. Ever.”

  By the time she retired to her bed, Connor had not returned. It was a strange sensation, but she’d missed him today. It wasn’t just the way he’d made her body feel, but the fact that he’d made her feel safe.

  Crossing her chamber, she put her hands on the door handle and hesitated. She was not his wife yet and had no right to be in his chambers. It would be empty, but she had a sudden urge to be in his room to feel closer to him.

  “Silly,” she muttered to herself as she backed away. “Ye doonae need him.”

  As horrible as it was, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny kernel of fear upon hearing that Connor had left and would not be back in time for their wedding. Ainsley would come first, but if he backed out of his agreement to marry her one more time, she wasn’t sure that she could survive it.

  A fear with no merit. Connor would return, and when he did, they would be wed. Still, it took her longer to fall asleep, and when she did, she fell back into old nightmares made fresh by the sight of Ainsley’s bruises.

  Alone. Trapped. Terrified.

  Three days passed before Connor returned. He was tired, hungry, and irritated, but there were a few things he had to take care of before he could take a bath and eat some dinner. Sending his men to their families, he dragged his prisoner through the keep to Ainsley’s door. At the sharp rap, she opened it. The bruises were looking darker than before, and he gritted his teeth. Inside, Grace and Moira were with her.

  “Ainsley. We caught this man following yer tracks. He claims to be yer man.”

  Gasping, she suddenly threw her arms around his neck. “Greg! Oh, Greg, I thought they had murdered ye! I just left ye!”

  “’Tis alright, Lady Ainsley. I am just happy to see ye alive and well.”

  “Ainsley,” Connor growled. They could have their homecoming later once she confirmed his identity. “Who is he?”

  “I am so sorry. This is Greg. He used to be our groom. He is like the big brother that I never had. When he heard that I’d been exiled, he came after me to protect me. We were only together for a few hours before the men caught up with us.”

  Greg bowed his head. “I fear they followed me, Ainsley. Had I not gone after ye, they would never have found ye.”

  “They would have found me eventually.”

  Satisfied that the man wasn’t one of the ones who tried to kill Ainsley, Connor let him go. “My apologies. I couldnae trust yer story after what Ainsley had told us.”

  The man nodded. “I understand. If ye would be so kind as to give me a meal, I will sleep in the stables tonight and be on my way in the morning. I am just happy to see that Ainsley is safe.”

  “Greg, ye cannae go. They will kill ye if ye return! Oh, Connor, please. Surely ye have room for a groom here? Ye will find no better hand for yer horses.”

  “Vera well. Moira, I am going to deal with Greg here and then bathe. I’m having dinner in my chambers, and I would like ye to join me. We need to speak.”

  Eyes wide, she took a step back. Was that resignation that he saw in her eyes?

  They started whispering before he even closed the door. “Grace is bad enough, but now there are three of them in this keep,” he told Greg as he walked him to the stables.

  “Them, sir?”

  “Women, Greg. Women.”

  After getting Greg situated with the stable hand, he went back to his chambers and sank happily into his warm bath and groaned. For three days and two nights, he thought of little more than Moira. Of her lips on his and the way she’d tightened around his fingers. Her moans of pleasure. He hadn’t even had the woman yet, and already, she was under his skin.

  Dinner and Moira arrived at roughly the same time, and Connor pulled out a chair for her from the small table by the window. “Have ye been treated well since I have been gone?”

  “Aye, although I didnae roam far. Most of my time was split between my uncl
e and Grace and Ainsley. Is she safe? Ye see no evidence that men will find her here?”

  “Nay, she is safe,” he assured her. “I invited her to say without consulting ye. I hope that ye have no objections.”

  “Why would I? Ainsley is a friend.”

  “Good. Now, about what I wanted to speak with ye about.”

  Moira paled and held up her hand. “Connor, if ye are about to tell me that ye have decided not to marry me, please speak quickly and plainly. Doonae draw it out.”

  “What? Why would I do that? Ainsley being here doesnae change anything, Moira.”

  “Ye said that ye had to speak to me.”

  “Aye. I would like to wed tomorrow. Is that agreeable with ye?”

  She nodded quickly and blushed. She seemed almost relieved, and he hated that she had any cause to doubt him. His hunger for food forgotten for a moment, he focused on a hunger of a different kind. “Did ye think of me while I was gone, Moira?” he asked her quietly. “I thought of ye.”

  “Of course I thought of ye. Ye are the laird,” Moira muttered, but her face was flushed, and she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Satisfaction blossomed in his chest. She remembered their kiss, their touch. It warmed her even now to think about, pinking those lovely little cheeks until he could think of nothing but touching her again.

  Instead, he cleared his throat and focused. “Fair enough. Are ye happy that Ainsley is here? Her circumstances withstanding.”

  “She was a friend,” Moira said softly. “It appears that she can be again. Grace makes me feel welcome. ’Tis something that I have not felt in a long time.”

  Because of him. “If there is any time that ye doonae feel welcome, ye will tell me. Aye?”

  “I can fend for myself, Connor. I have been doing it for a long time.”

  “But ye willnae have to, Moira. Part of the charm of marrying me is that I can protect ye.”

  “I hope that is not all the charm,” she teased with a small smile. “Connor, I wanted to tell ye that I was impressed with how ye handled Ainsley. Not many would have housed a battered woman for fear of a feud, nor let someone she cares about stay here as well.”

  “She is Grace’s friend.”

  “That isnae why ye did it though. I see the look in yer eyes when ye look at her. Anger. Ye doonae like a man to hurt a woman. Not many would care.”

  “We do here,” he growled. “We doonae batter women here, and if I can keep one safe, then I will.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “I wouldnae hurt ye, Moira. I thought I made that clear.”

  “I amnae worried about that, Connor.” Picking up the spoon for her stew, she smiled serenely over the candles. “I wouldnae let ye.”

  9

  Grace and Ainsley were in Moira's room before she'd even opened her eyes. Upon hearing that the wedding was taking place that day, they had decided to take it upon themselves to make it a ceremony the clan would talk about for ages. Moira woke to the demands that she get out of bed and into the tub that was waiting for her. Before she could ask why she needed a bath in the morning, Ainsley ripped back the covers, and Grace pulled her from the bed.

  "What?" Moira began as she sat up wildly. "What the devil are the two of ye doing?"

  "We are going to make ye the most beautiful bride in all the land, and since I have no idea how to do that, Ainsley has agreed to help," Grace declared.

  Scrunching up her face, Moira glared at her friend. "Are ye saying that I require extra help to be beautiful?"

  "Nay, of course not. I am just not good at all the lady things."

  Turning her head, Moira squinted at the window. "'Tis still dark. Can I just have a few more minutes to..."

  "Not a chance!" Grace shouted. "Undress yerself or we will do it for ye! Ye will smell of perfume and flowers, and yer skin will glow like the morning dew when we are finished with ye!"

  What were these words coming out of Grace's mouth? Her brain still muddled from sleep, Moira stood and looked around wildly. Apparently she was not moving fast enough before hands clasped at the laces of her nightdress. Moira shrieked as she was all but shoved into the tub.

  Suddenly, the door separating her room from Connor's swung open, and Connor came charging in, half-dressed, with his sword in hand. "What is happening here!"

  Gasping, Moira brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Grace and Ainsley quickly stepped in front of her to hide her naked body from Connor. "Brother, have ye lost yer mind? Ye cannae just charge into a lady's chambers if ye arenae married to her, and ye are certainly not married to her yet."

  Peering around Grace, Moira suppressed a chuckle when she saw Connor's confusion and embarrassment. "There was shouting. I thought she might be in danger,” he said lamely, his cheeks rapidly turning red.

  "I am in danger," Moira muttered. "This is ridiculous."

  "We are getting Moira ready to be yer lovely bride. Ye should start prepping yerself. I have instructed the servants to ready ye a bath as well. Ye need to shave. I have it on good authority that no woman wants to feel that stubble between her..."

  "Grace!" Connor and Moira shouted together. Humiliation washed over her, and she ducked back behind Grace and squeezed her eyes shut. She'd never imagined her wedding morning would go quite like this.

  Then again, she hadn't thought she'd be having a wedding morning for a very long time.

  Marriage. Moira's chest suddenly tightened, and the three figures in the room faded away from her mind. Her skin began to tingle, and her vision narrowed.

  "Moira?" Grace said uncertainly. "Moira, are ye all right?"

  "What?" Connor demanded. "What is wrong with her? Why is she breathing like that?"

  Ainsley stepped forward to block his path. "Connor, I think perhaps ye should get to yer own preparation and leave this to us."

  "What is wrong with her?" Connor thundered.

  His anger only made things worse, and her chest grew tighter, her breaths harder to take.

  "’Tis just wedding jitters," Ainsley assured him. “Now let us do our job."

  "Wedding jitters?" he repeated. "Moira, do we need to speak?"

  "No," she gasped. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him about her panic. "I am fine."

  "See, she is fine, although you are wasting her time, and her bath is growing cold. I suggest you leave us unless ye want yer bride to begin yer marriage with the sniffles."

  "All right," he acknowledged. Moira heard the door finally close, and she buried her head in her hands.

  "Moira," Ainsley said quietly, "tell us what is on yer mind.”

  “’Tis silly," Moira admitted as she struggled to get her breathing under control. "I agreed to this marriage. I understand that's ’tis the key to my freedom, yet I doonae think it felt real 'til now.”

  "'Tis natural to feel overwhelmed on yer wedding day but in this case, ’tis more. I cannae imagined how betrayed ye felt by Connor," Ainsley said kindly. “No one will think any differently of ye if ye need more time.”

  “Ye forget that few think well of me now,” Moira pointed out dryly, Slowly, she was able to forcibly relax her muscles and straighten out her legs. Her breathing returned to normal, but her heart continued to beat wildly, and her throat was tight.

  "Doonae think of anyone else,” Ainsley said firmly. "Ye have the rare opportunity to think of yerself going into this marriage. ’Tis not as though yer family is forcing ye.”

  Ainsley was right. Uncle Tyree was there to sweep her away and take her home. His successor had promised her a safe home for the rest of her life. Moira did not have to wed. She could not imagine how life had been for Ainsley and countless other women who were forced into a marriage and suffered as their futures turned into nightmares.

  Moira was different. She was running to this marriage to end her nightmare. She was willing to give up the protection of her family and accept the protection of a man who'd once thought the worst of her.

  She was trust
ing him to not betray her for a second time.

  And she did trust him.

  The realization eased the tension from her body even as her panic was replaced by a niggling fear. The fear that like that sixteen-year-old girl, she was once again a naive fool.

  Grace had turned her back and was fussing with the dress that Moira would wear. She was not supporting Ainsley, but Moira knew it wasn't because Grace was being cruel. No, she saw this as an opportunity to make up for her past sins.

  "I doonae believe Connor would hurt me." Again. "I see no reason to hesitate or second-guess myself."

  Grace whirled around. "Are ye certain? "

  "Aye." With a soft smile, Moira nodded. “Now hand me the soap. I believe that I am supposed to glow."

  An hour later, Moira was finally allowed to leave. Ainsley continued to fuss over her. Grace tried to help but was mostly shooed away. When she was dressed, she was allowed out of her room to speak to her uncle on penalty of death if she let her dress drag in the dirt. It was clear that Tyree wasn’t happy, but he agreed to be cordial.

  On her way back, Hamish stopped her and asked her if she was certain with her decision. She searched his face carefully, looking for signs of jealousy or even lingering love, but there was none. Only an honest need for her to be happy.

  If it wouldn’t have been outright rude, she would have laughed. For years, she had held off on marrying, much to everyone’s annoyance. Now that she’d decided to marry, everyone was worried about her.

  It was disconcerting.

  When Moira returned to her chambers, Ainsley was gone. “She wanted to look over some last-minute details,” Grace said with a shrug. “And she said that I was only getting in her way. I have never made a vera good mistress of the keep.”

  No, Grace was always more interested in playing with the warriors rather than learning needle-thread or managing the servants. “Lucky for ye that Helena can do the job with her eyes closed.”