Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Now Moira was puzzled. Vin told her nearly everything that happened to him for as long as she could remember. There had been a plethora of confessions in his letters while he was away and many more the night they had lain together talking. She couldn’t imagine what he might have held back from her that would engender hatred in her. “I could never hate you, Vin. I’ve loved you my entire life.”

  Those warm words gave Vin an excuse to delay his confession. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  Moira shrugged as she had so many times before, but now Vin finally saw the hurt and pain in the gesture. All these years, he had hurt her with his blindness. His determination to keep her at an arm’s length had unknowingly caused her pain. God, he didn’t want to cause her any longer and his confession would do just that. Was he selfish to do so just so he might have her in the end or was it better to spare her while breaking her heart in the process? If he told her and she couldn’t forgive him, he would do both. Still, her father had insisted.

  While he wavered between which choice would be best for Moira, she continued. “What was I to do, Vin? Throw myself at your head? If I had done more than flirt with you, how would you have reacted?”

  Vin thought about that. He would have been appalled, he knew. Back then, he had been more concerned with preserving his friendship with Jason than anything else. Now looking back, it was easy to accept that he wanted her even then. Perhaps he even loved her. He remembered that last night before he’d left for Burma, he stood on the terrace with Moira in his arms, loving the feel of her there. He hadn’t been a lad wet behind the ears then. At twenty-seven, he should have been able to identify what he felt. When she spoke of the man she loved, how could he not have noticed the twist of pain in his heart? He’d been such a fool. Determined to keep one friend by denying his feelings for another. He should have just done as Richard had, taken his beating and then taken Moira…if Jason had left him alive.

  “It is easy to look back and see what might have been, lovey. I’ve always been good at looking back. I don’t want to do that any longer. I want to look forward now but, before I can, I need you to know the truth of Jason’s death.”

  “What truth?”

  “I killed your brother, lovey.”

  Moira’s mind froze certain she hadn’t heard those words correctly. Vin had killed Jason? No, never! Vin loved Jason like another brother, they’d been as thick as thieves their entire lives. “That’s not possible. You would never,” she said stolidly.

  “It was my fault. He died because of me. He died for me.”

  The dark dread building in her mind eased with those words. After the past week, Moira was well aware of how Vin’s mind worked after his imprisonment. It hadn’t taken long to figure out. He was filled with guilt from the memories of his torture. He nurtured it to punish himself for coming back without Jason. The way she saw it, it was the result of too many years alone with nothing else to think about. “Jason’s death is not your fault, Vin. It never was. Jason made the decision to join the army of his own free will. He might even have gone without you, you know.”

  Vin snorted at that but turned solemn once more. “I want to tell you how he really died so you’ll understand. Perhaps then you’ll see why I tried to keep this distance between us and, if nothing else, forgive me for that.”

  Motioning for her to sit near the fire, Vin repeated the story he’d told her father and grandfather that morning. It was easier the second time, not nearly as painful. For him anyway. Though he edited out the worst of it, Moira’s face was awash with tears by the time he finished. She said nothing but simply stared at him with tears cascading from her eyes as she envisioned his tale of her brother’s suffering, of his death. All because of Vin…or so he believed.

  Moira stared at Vin for a long while or, more accurately, stared through him. This was nothing like she had imagined. Even when he’d exploded after she berated him the previous week, even after the images that swarmed her mind, Moira had never imagined Jason and Vin had suffered so deeply. Her mind wanted to deny his words, deny the knowledge of what Jason suffered. She could see why Vin hadn’t told her any of it before because picturing a beloved brother dying in torment and agony was more than any sister needed.

  Vin sat through the dark silence waiting for Moira to castigate him, to cast down all the blame and anger he knew he deserved. He dreaded the lash of her tongue with more abhorrence than he’d ever held for the whip. Yet her words, when they came, were more pained than angry.

  “How long?” Moira asked softly, her throat tight around the words.

  Vin’s brow creased. “How long what?”

  “How long did it take him to die? How long did you lie there holding his hand?” Moira’s voice was raspy, as is she were struggling to breathe.

  “Lovey, you don’t want to know that.” Vin caught the level look she sent him and sighed before relenting. “Weeks.” Weeks of listening to Jason’s raspy breathing, each painful inhale. The delirious ranting through the fever. The final confessions and regrets of a man who’s life had ended too soon.

  “And,” Moira swallowed deeply, feeling her chest quiver with apprehension. “How long after he died did it take them to realize it?”

  “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

  “I am asking, how long did you lie in there holding Jason’s hand after he was dead?”

  Her voice was shaking with the depth of her emotion and Vin felt it resonate within him. He remembered that time in vivid detail. The tomb prison was deep underground and was generally cool all the time and in the desert it was easy to blend one season into the next, but Vin always thought it had been winter for some reason. His captors brought bread or dried meat enough to last for days at a time, water by the bucket so they needn’t come every day. When they last brought food, Vin begged them to care for Jason, to tend to his wounds but they ignored him and left. Jason died shortly after Vin thought. It was hard to be certain.

  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.