Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds

by Adamina Young

  “Do ye think it was accidental?”

  “Moira…”

  “Do ye think that I tried to hurt ye?”

  “No.” The thought had never even crossed his mind, and he needed her to know that. “I would never have married ye if I thought for even a second that ye might harm me. I have accepted that ye were innocent all those years ago, and I am trying to make reparations. I willnae sully that by believing yer guilt now.”

  Pushing him away, she stood and walked to the washbasin. She dipped the cloth inside, then returned and dabbed at his head. “I doonae need ye to make reparations, Connor,” she said quietly.

  There was pain as she dabbed at the wound, but it wasn’t just physical pain. She was so gentle, even though he could hear the anger and torment in her voice. After tending to him quietly, she finally put the cloth down. “The lump will swell, and ye will have a terrible headache, but it could be worse.”

  “Aye.”

  Slowly grasping her wrist, he squeezed her hand. “Please give my people a chance to believe in ye.”

  Seeing her surrounded by the mob, knowing how terrified she must be, his first instinct had been to protect her. His second had been to beg her to stay. How could she not want to leave when she’d been ambushed in her own home by his people?

  “I will. I am more concerned about the idea that someone might have harmed ye. Connor, do ye believe that this was an accident?”

  “The wood had already been cut and stacked. It would have taken more than a gust of wind to knock the top one off. Unfortunately, I was the only one there, and the beam knocked some sense out of me for a moment. By the time I got to my feet, whoever had done it was gone. When I went to speak to the villagers, they hadn’t seen anything. I didn’t realize that they would be up in arms until one of the young lads came to warn me. Apparently, the little scamper saw ye at the wedding and has a crush on ye.”

  “I will need to thank him for his assistance,” she said with a brief smile. “Connor, it cannae escape yer notice that someone tried to hurt ye just days after ye married me. I expected some animosity toward me but not toward ye.”

  It hadn’t escaped him. He knew that many were close to his parents, loyal to their memories over him even after all this time, and believed that he was betraying them and thus betraying the clan by marrying Moira. But surely they would not go this far.

  “I try to be a fair laird, but I do still make enemies even of my own people. I willnae make assumptions.”

  “Still, I willnae have ye hurt because ye are trying to protect me. I will start to spend more time with the clan and get to know the people. I need to return to Helena. I willnae have this be the reason that she considers me slacking in my duties.”

  “Nay, I prefer ye to rest.”

  “Even if ye tied me to the bed, I wouldnae be able to rest, Connor. I need to be busy now. I hope ye can understand that.”

  He could. She was far more shaken than she wanted to let on, and there was something dark lurking in her eyes. He wished she would tell him what had happened to her after he’d exiled her. He wanted to do whatever he could to ease her fears.

  “I would vera much like to tie ye to the bed,” he said softly.

  A smirk appeared on her face, and she shook her head before she bent down to kiss his cheek. “Promise me, Husband, that ye will be careful.”

  “Aye, and until I know that no one will harm ye, I would like ye to not be alone. Stay with Helena for now, and I will send Grace to ye. At the vera least, keeping ye company will keep her out of trouble.”

  “I am not certain that she will see it that way.”

  After seeing Moira safely under the disgruntled eye of Helena, he went back out to the storehouse. By now, word had spread, and there were men milling around everywhere. And women. Grace and Ainsley were standing their ground and arguing loudly on Moira’s behalf.

  “’Tis enough!” he roared. The crowd quieted, and Grace turned. There was real fear and anger in her eyes. Holding out his arm, he accepted her as she rushed to his side. “A few moments ago, some men took it upon themselves to attack my wife. If word has not spread by now, then let me be vera clear. Moira is my wife. As ye have sworn fealty to me, ye will be loyal to her. Anyone who lays a hand on her will face the consequences of betraying this clan. Is that clear?”

  “How are ye so certain of her innocence?” someone asked.

  “Because, as she pointed out earlier, I am protecting her. Now if ye have any truths to share about what happened earlier, then I am willing to listen. Otherwise, return to yer day.”

  Slowly, the crowd dispersed until it was only Grace and Ainsley. “Connor, are ye all right? I heard what happened. Is it true? Did someone try to kill ye?” Ainsley asked.

  “’Twas little more than a glancing blow,” he informed her. “I doonae know if the intention was to harm or kill, but I am fine.”

  Grace looked panicked. “And Moira was attacked?”

  “Aye. Grace, I doonae want Moira to be alone. I know that ye wish to spend yer time training with the men, but I would like ye to stay with Moira. None of this clan will put ye in danger, so ye can protect her when I am not around.”

  Rare tears gathered in her eyes. “I thought ye were doing right by marrying her, Connor, but now I fear that ye have put ye both in danger.”

  “This will pass, Grace. We knew there would be some upheaval.”

  “General unhappiness, but the both of ye were attacked!” Grace’s eyes flashed with anger. “Aye, Ainsley and I will make sure that Moira is safe, and we will ferret out who targeted ye.”

  “No.” A new headache was forming behind his eyes, and it had nothing to do with his wound. “Ye will not. I will discover the truth.”

  “Ye have a clan to run and a cottage to finish. Ye doonae want me to fight with the men, then I will have to do something else with my time.”

  What did he do to deserve such a hellion for a sister? “Behave yerself, Grace, or I will ship ye off to Alec,” he muttered. “Ye will not ferret anything out. Ye will just do what lasses are supposed to do!”

  “And what is that?”

  Hell if he knew. “Ainsley,” he pleaded softly.

  Ainsley smiled prettily. “Ye have nothing to worry about Connor. I have everything in hand.” Putting her hands on Grace’s shoulders, she led his sister away, and he turned back to the woodpile and looked up thoughtfully.

  The truth was that there was very little chance the small beam would have killed him, so the mob against Moira was for no reason, but someone had deliberately tried to harm him.

  There were still quite a few of the older members of the clan who didn’t like the changes Connor made recently. The increase in trades meant that the clan was flourishing, but it also opened the clan up to the attention of the other clans. They were no longer as isolated as they once were, which was fine with Connor. More often than not, his transactions were to foster peace and alliances. He had no quarrels with any other clan, but that didn’t stop members from sticking to their old beliefs.

  Maybe someone had decided to make their unhappiness known, but if it had killed him, the clan would have suffered. With Alec in charge of his own clan, Connor had no clear heir.

  So what could have been the motive?

  “Connor?” Mungo asked gruffly. “We have spoken to everyone in the area. We have nothing to show for it. The new groom, Greg, was in full sight of three other men the whole time.”

  Connor hated to suspect Ainsley’s hero, but he was the one man no one knew anything about. At least by clearing him, he had no cause to stress out Moira’s friend more. “’Tis fine. ’Tis most like an isolated incident. In the meantime, I want someone near Moira at all times. She was attacked by an angry mob, Mungo. I will not let that happen again. She is a priority. I want her safe at all times.”

  “Laird.”

  Connor stilled. Normally his friends spoke to him as Connor when they were alone and “Laird” in the company of others outsid
e the clan or during formal ceremonies. “Mungo?”

  “I amnae questioning yer decisions, but ye have never been harmed ’til ye married. I believe ye need to have an open mind.”

  “Nay.” Turning, Connor let his temper show. “Nay. I failed her before, and I willnae do it again. If ye dare suggest that she has harmed me, ye better have damning proof. Do ye understand me?”

  Mungo nodded. “Aye, Laird.”

  The pounding grew worse, and Connor turned to focus on the storehouse. Threats or not against him, he had a clan to protect.

  15

  The kitchen was in a flurry, and although most of the staff was ignoring her, Moira refused to leave. A week had passed since the incident, and so far, she hadn’t been able to do much to sway the clan, but now they were hosting the MacDonalds for the night, and Moira was determined to make a good impression.

  She’d asked Helena to take the evening off so she could work closely with the servants and prove to them that she could handle a simple dinner.

  Except that it wasn’t a simple dinner. The MacDonalds and the Sinclairs were neighbors and close allies. Moira suspected that the reason for the visit had more to do with the MacDonalds meeting her than it did with discussing clan politics.

  She was determined not to disappoint.

  There was another reason that she was so determined to stay busy. The cottage was finished and furnished, and this would be the first night that she stayed there. Unease settled in her belly, but she ignored it. This was what she wanted, and Connor had worked so hard to make sure that she got it.

  There had been no more attempts on his life, and thus no one had attacked her. There was unease in the clan, and it was her fault. She hoped this event would be the thing that changed things to her favor. She was showing support for her husband and his clan.

  “Would ye quit hovering!” Agnes snapped. The main cook glared at her as she pulled the chicken out of the oven. It was the fifth roasted to a perfect golden hue and would look lovely on the table. Agnes had a sour disposition, but she was a talented cook. “Ye have done a good job, but now ye are annoying me.”

  Moira blinked in surprise. Had Agnes just given her a compliment? “I apologize, Agnes, but I need this night to be perfect. The clan has been excited about the MacDonald visit, and I want to impress.”

  “So go impress. If the laird has to retrieve ye, then ye will not impress. Go join him. I will send a servant if we have need of ye,” Agnes grumbled and began dressing the platter.

  Knowing that she was right, Moira hurried out of the kitchens. Laird MacDonald, his wife, and their two daughters had arrived with a handful of men several hours ago. Connor had told her that it wasn’t necessary to meet them when they arrived and that most likely had something to do with the fact that she was hastily peeling potatoes because one of the kitchen hands had been sick.

  Connor hadn’t approved, but he left it alone. Now, she was changed and ready to do her duty.

  Ah, but it was a long cry from the solitary life she had dreamed of.

  Connor was pacing impatiently outside the doors of the great hall. “There ye are,” he said crossly. “I beg of ye not to leave my side tonight.”

  “Did something happen?” Her breath caught in her throat. Had something else happened? Was he harmed? Immediately, she turned and slid her hands over his chest. “Are ye all right?”

  “Moira.” Chuckling, he clasped his hands and leaned down to kiss her gently on the cheek. “I didnae mean to panic ye. ’Tis just that with MacDonald here…”

  “Is that not the sweetest thing ye have ever seen, Sister?” someone said in a saccharine voice. Turning, Moira took one look at the golden beauty and her younger miniature walking their way, and froze.

  The woman was staring daggers at her.

  “Aye,” the younger said with a genuine smile. “Laird Sinclair, I apologize for interrupting yer moment. Father wanted us to wait, but Breanna wanted something to drink.”

  “’Tis quite all right, Gwen,” Connor said smoothly. “Ladies, I would like ye to meet my wife, Moira. Moira, these are Laird MacDonald’s lovely daughters, Breanna and Gwen.”

  Despite the icy chill emanating from Breanna, Moira stepped forward and clasped her hand. “Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet ye. I am pleased that ye can join us during yer visit.”

  “Moira Hamilton,” Breanna purred. “Allow me to congratulate ye on yer rather sudden marriage.” Deliberately, she looked down at Moira’s belly.

  The insinuation was more than clear even with Gwen watching her older sister in puzzlement. It was obvious that the two were as different as night and day. “’Tis Moira Sinclair now,” Moira said just as sweetly. “And I thank ye for yer kind words. It may seem sudden, but the truth is that our marriage has been in the works for quite some time.”

  Connor cleared his throat behind her, and she looked up in time to see an older couple descending from the stairs. While the man looked on with interest, the woman looked just as angry as her daughter.

  Stepping back, Moira joined her husband. “MacDonald. Lady Mary. I was just introducing yer daughters to my wife, Moira.”

  Moira waited until the couple had reached the bottom before she stepped forward. Acting as mistress of the Hamiltons, she was used to meeting other clan lairds. This was her home, so there was no need to curtsy, but she still inclined her head in respect. MacDonald took her hand and kissed it.

  “Moira. ’Tis a name that I know vera well, although that wouldnae surprise ye. Ye know, for some time, I was hoping that Sinclair would marry my Breanna, but now I can see why he held back. ’Twas true love in the works.”

  “Laird MacDonald, I heard much of ye during my summer here all those years ago. Connor’s parents spoke vera highly of ye, and I am pleased to see that yer alliance extends to him. Lady Mary, I look forward to getting to know ye.”

  It didn’t escape her notice that Mary did nothing to acknowledge her. “Come, Sinclair. I am ravenous,” MacDonald thundered. “Let us eat!”

  Chuckling, Connor opened the door and stepped back. Moira waited as the MacDonalds entered, and she held Connor’s arm before he could follow. “Am I to assume that Lady Breanna said something to ye and that is why ye doonae want to be alone during dinner?”

  “Lady Breanna? Nay. She is a sweet woman. ’Tis her mother that is the vulture. She isnae happy that I am wed, and her sharp tongue knows no boundaries.”

  Lady Breanna is a sweet woman? Hardly!

  MacDonald or his wife should have been seated on Connor’s other side, but somehow, Breanna was already at the seat when Connor and Moira joined them. The food was already on the table and the cups full. Everything looked and smelled delicious, like a perfect meal.

  It eased her fears, and all that was left was jealousy.

  Taking her seat directly in front of Breanna, Moira tried not to make comparisons. It wasn’t about looks, although Breanna was far more lovely. It was mostly about circumstances. She and Breanna were both daughters of lairds, but Breanna didn’t have the stigma of a murder accusation. She wasn’t hated by her clan. Instead, her family was beloved.

  The Sinclairs would have loved it if Connor had married her. So why hadn’t he?

  “I imagine that it must be difficult for ye, Moira. The Sinclair keep is far larger than the Hamilton one,” Breanna said with an innocent smile.

  Moira was not going to put on airs, not even for Breanna. “The keep was in excellent hands when I arrived, and Helena has been working hard to help me acclimate,” Moira acknowledged.

  “So ye are letting a servant run the keep?” Breanna gasped.

  That was not at all what she said. Moira opened her mouth, but Grace, seated next to Moira, cleared her throat. “Breanna, why are ye so interested in the management of the Sinclair keep? ’Tis Moira’s job as Connor’s wife to run the keep as she sees fit.”

  Next to her, Ainsley snorted and quickly took a drink from her ale. No one else seemed to catch on to Grace’s barb.
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  “Of course,” Breanna said as she blushed furiously. “As I shall no doubt marry soon, I simply wanted a perspective from a newly married woman.”

  Connor reached for a biscuit. “I am certain that Moira will be happy to answer any of yer questions, Breanna.”

  Did he realize that he’d boxed Moira in? “Aye, Breanna. I am happy to help.”

  “Connor, when I was here last summer, ye showed me the most lovely field of heather. I was captivated by it. Perhaps tomorrow, ye will show me again?”

  Involuntarily, Moira dropped her fork. Field of heather. The very place that Connor had proposed to her. She had avoided it thus far, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit that he’d taken another woman there.

  Silly and immature, of course. Breanna was a woman who no doubt enjoyed picking flowers.

  “Of course,” Connor said politely.

  Suddenly, there was a sharp kick to her shins, and Moira gasped and turned. Grace looked annoyed, and Moira realized that Grace must have been aiming for her brother.

  “Something wrong, Moira?” Breanna asked.

  “Leg cramp.”

  “Connor…” Breanna started again, but she was interrupted by panicked shouts in the kitchen.

  “Fire! Fire!”

  Connor jumped to his feet. “Stay,” he ordered Moira before he raced toward the doors, his men in tow.

  “What is happening?” Mary gasped.

  “I doonae know, but the kitchens are a safe distance from the great hall. If everyone will just remain calm, then I am certain that Connor will take care of everything. Otherwise, we will calmly leave the hall and exit the keep through the side door.”

  “Breanna!” Gwen gasped. “She’s gone!”

  Of course Breanna’s seat was empty. “Grace, make certain that everyone remains calm,” Moira told her before she rushed to the kitchens. There was no telling what Breanna would do to get Connor’s attention, and if she hurt herself, the MacDonalds would blame the Sinclairs.