A broad smile broke out on Alysander’s face as a look of utter astonishment broke out on Thomas’ and Harry’s.
“Let me clarify it fer ye, McGregor,” Alysander said. “I meant ‘twould be no’ much of a fight fer us.”
It took a long moment for Thomas to realize he was sorely outnumbered, but he was not quite ready to admit defeat. “She does no’ want ye,” he ground out.
“I do no’ believe ye,” Alysander said, his voice firm and unyielding.
Thomas looked out at the hundred men who were slowly making their way down the hill. “Yer a bloody bastard, McCullum!” he ground out.
“I would have to agree with ye,” Alysander said as he pushed his way past a very angry Thomas McGregor.
* * *
As she contemplated all the things that could go wrong and how to address them, there was a gentle tapping at her door. Believing it was Deirdre coming to check on her for what seemed the hundredth time today, Moirra let out a long, heavy sigh. Without taking her eyes off the landscape, she spoke over her shoulder. “I be fine, Deirdre, please, leave me be.”
“Ne’er again, lass.”
Moirra spun around so quickly at the sound of Alysander’s voice that she felt momentarily dizzy from it. Were her eyes playing tricks? Was he truly standing in the doorway?
Every fiber of her being screamed to run to him and fling herself into his arms. But she loved him too much to do that. Catching herself before she could take another step toward him, she pulled the shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Alysander,” she said, nearly choking on the impending tears.
His smile was bright, bright enough to light up the darkest of nights. He seemed genuinely happy to see her which made what she needed to tell him all the more difficult.
The longer they stood looking at one another, the more the smile faded from Alysander’s face. Moirra was frozen, with fear and trepidation.
“Moirra?” Alysander said her name as he took a tentative step toward her. “Are ye well?”
All she could manage was a rapid nod as she fought to maintain a hold on the tears. If she began crying again, she would not stop, would not be able to give him the freedom to leave.
“Are ye no’ happy to see me?” he asked with just a slight tremble to his voice as if he feared her answer.
Another set of rapid nods as she held her breath. Her resolve was waning, fading rapidly.
“Is what Thomas tells me true?”
She had no earthly idea what Thomas had told him.
Alysander took another step toward her. “Do ye no’ want me any longer?”
The expression of deep sadness and fear on his face was enough to bring her to her knees. Had he not been standing there to catch her, she would have fallen to the ground.
Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her into his chest. “Moirra, my God how I have missed ye.”
Words were lodged in her throat, but her tears flowed freely. God above, it felt so good to be in his arms once again. She clung to him with all her might, shaking as she cried and sobbed against his chest. Never did she want to be away from him again. Still, guilt reared its ugly head. How could she ask him to stay?
Repeatedly, he kissed the top of her head and told her he loved her, that he missed her. Each kiss, each term of endearment made her guilt over wanting him grow by leaps and bounds. But as yet, she could not dislodge the lump in her throat or stop the tears from falling long enough to tell him she was going to give him his freedom.
After some time, the tears ebbed, but not his embrace. “I have good news, Moirra. Robert II has found each of us innocent of Delmar’s murder. Neither one of us will be hangin’ fer it.” He whispered the words into her hair as he patted her back. “Moirra, I feared that I was goin’ to lose ye. When I thought ye did no’ want me anymore, it nearly did me in. I can no’ imagine me life without ye, without our daughters, without our babe.”
’Twas his last words that completely did her in. Their babe. The babe she had lost. It mattered not that Robert had declared them innocent, she had lost their babe.
“Moirra, why do ye carry on so? Are ye no’ happy that we no longer have to worry about being dragged to the gallows?”
Aye, she was glad to hear that, but it mattered not. “Alysander,” she choked out. “I lost our babe.”
* * *
’Twas all he could do to remain standing.
His wife had lost their babe, more likely than not due to the horrible conditions she’d been forced to live in for weeks. ’Twas all his fault. Had he thought to confess sooner, this would be a most joyous occasion. For the first time in his adult life, tears filled his eyes. It took a moment before he found his voice. “Moirra, I be so terribly sorry.”
She wiped her tears away on his tunic before looking up at him. “Why are ye sorry? ’Tis me fault we lost the babe.”
“Nay!” he exclaimed. “The fault be mine, lass! Had I confessed sooner, ye’d not have suffered as ye did.”
Moirra shook her head. “Nay, ’tis me own fault fer handfastin’ with Delmar Wilgart in the first place.”
“Nay, Moirra, the fault lays on me head and no one else’s,” he argued.
Deirdre’s voice broke through their guilt-ridden conversation. “Stop it now, the both of ye,” she said as she stepped into the room. “The only person to blame is Almer Wilgart. Had he no’ been so filled with hatred for Moirra, he would no’ have made such horrible accusations against ye or arrested ye. Nay, neither one of ye are to blame fer what has happened and I swear, if I hear either one of ye blame yerselves again, I will whack yer heads together.”
Alysander and Moirra stared at her for long moments, each of them afraid to speak their minds.
“Moirra should be able to have more children, though I would recommend ye start on that soon fer we all ken she be no’ gettin’ any younger.”
Moirra thought to argue that point but decided against it. She was getting older, as much as it vexed her to admit it. But she was no’ quite ready yet to consign herself to sit beside the hearth and carry on like an auld woman waiting for the good Lord to call her home.
Alysander finally broke the silence that had fallen across the room. “Thank ye, Deirdre, for takin’ such good care of me wife. I will never be able to repay ye.”
Deirdre shrugged her shoulders slightly before commenting. “Moirra be the closest thing to a sister that I’ve ever had. I did what she would have done fer me were our roles reversed.”
“I thank ye, all the same,” Alysander said, offering her a warm smile. He turned his attention back to his beautiful Moirra. “I love ye, Moirra, with all that I am.”
“I love ye as well, Alysander,” she replied.
“Do ye feel up to traveling yet?” he asked.
Moirra’s brow scrunched in confusion. “Back to our farm?” she asked, feeling the courage rising to argue against that.
“Nay,” Alysander said. “Though I loved the life we lived on our wee little farm, Moirra, I fear that after all that has transpired these past weeks, that we can never go back to livin’ that way again.”
She cocked her head to one side, uncertain where he was heading or if he wanted to take her with him.
“Glenkirby has no’ been kind to us, Moirra. And even though Robert has found us innocent, I worry about our childrens’ futures.”
“What are ye suggestin’ then?” she asked, uncertain if she was going to like his answer.
He cleared his throat once before answering. “Me brother Connor waits fer us out of doors. Finnis had written to him that I was in more than just a wee bit of trouble, ye see. So he came to help.”
She was growing more and more confused. “But I thought yer family ostracized ye after Hugh’s death?”
“Well, that was more me da’s doin’ than me brothers’. They did no’ want me to leave, but I was too drunk and too overwrought with guilt to see the truth. Connor has asked me — us — to return to Clan McCullum with him.”
/> “But what of yer father, Alysander? I fear I would no’ be able to keep quiet if he treated ye as poorly as he has in the past.”
Alysander chuckled at her honesty as well as the image of Moirra wagging her finger at his father and putting him in his place. His amusement was short-lived when he thought of his father. “Me father had an apoplexy weeks ago, Moirra. He died a few days later.”
Moirra’s expression changed to a blend of surprise and sadness. “Och! Alysander, I be so terribly sorry!”
“Do no’ worry it much, Moirra. What is done is done.”
* * *
What Moirra had seen as a completely hopeless life only moments before he walked into the small chamber, was now a future filled with endless possibilities. Still, she had to be certain this was what he truly wanted. “Are ye certain, Alysander, that ye want us to continue with our handfastin’? That ye want to raise me daughters as yer own? With yer clan?”
His brow furrowed, his demeanor growing quite serious. “Nay, I be no’ talkin’ about continuin’ with a handfastin’, Moirra. I want ye to be me wife. And aye, they be our daughters and we shall raise them together. Amongst me clan, or anywhere else on God’s earth ye wish to go. As long as we are married, together as a family and away from Glenkirby, I care no’ where we live.”
Her heart swelled with pride and joy and an overwhelming sense of adoration for this man. She didn’t think it possible to love him more than she already had. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pressed her head against his chest. “As long as we are together, Alysander McCullum, nothin’ else matters.”
Twenty-Three
Thomas McGregor was beyond furious. He had ridden over the crest of the hill, away from all the McCullum warriors and out of their line of vision. Riding their horses into a small copse of trees, he and Harry hid and watched as Alysander McCullum entered the yard. Moirra’s brats caught sight of him and ran to him with outspread arms. Alysander wrapped his arms around the brats who had been nothing less than nuisances since their arrival and kissed each of them on the top of their dimwitted heads. ’Twas a reunion that made Thomas’ head ache. After several moments of fawning over one another, Alysander entered Thomas’ home.
All he had tried to do, the vengeance he had tried to exact from the woman he firmly believed had destroyed his life, was all for naught. By now, Moirra was probably in Alysander’s arms. It probably wouldn’t take long for the two of them to figure out that Thomas had lied to both of them.
With countless McCullum warriors either watching his home from a distance or sitting atop their steeds in his yard, there was no hope for him to get to Alysander or Moirra. There was no chance for him to take either of their lives. Hope of ending the years of frustration was gone. Just. Like. That.
“What are ye goin’ to do now?” Harry asked.
Thomas shot him an angry glare, quite tempted to take the fool’s life. Instead, he remained silent and turned away to stare across the small glen at his home. What was he to do now? How would he ever get the revenge he had longed for all these years? More likely than not, Alysander and Moirra were making plans at this very moment to away his home, mayhap even her little farm. Who knew what the two of them had in mind.
Just as quickly as his hope had faded, it sprung to life again, when he caught sight of something in the yard below. A flash of blue fabric and a dark braid and a flea-ridden mutt chasing one another around the area just to the east of his barn.
Orabilis.
* * *
Thomas kept a watchful eye on Moirra’s youngest daughter as she frolicked and played with her dog. They were not more than one hundred yards away from him. But if he tried to cross the land from his current position he’d be dead in a matter of moments. That route left him far too exposed and put him out in the open too easily seen by the McCullum warriors.
However, if he went around the long way and came up from behind his barn, he stood a far better chance at getting to Orabilis without being seen. All he needed to do was get her to the opposite side of the barn, out of the line of vision of the warriors.
“Harry,” Thomas whispered as he began to back away, further into the copse. “I need ye to go to Almer as fast as ye can.”
“Almer?” Harry asked curiously.
Thomas held his temper in check. “Aye, Almer. Have him meet me as soon as possible at Moirra’s farm. There will be ten sillers in it fer ye.”
Harry’s eyes grew wide with eager anticipation at the mention of ten sillers. He gave several rapid, excited nods of his head before turning his horse around and heading toward Glenkirby.
* * *
It had been far easier than Thomas had imagined to get to Orabilis. He had backed completely out of the copse, down a small hill, and was making his way toward the barn, when Wulver bounded down the small hill with Orabilis happily chasing after him.
Thomas had taken cover behind a large rock, held his breath steady as he waited for the dog to run past him. Just as he had anticipated, moments later, Orabilis had come running by. In one fell swoop, he had clamped one hand over the brat’s mouth, one around her waist and lifted her off the ground. Instantly, she was kicking and flailing about in a vain attempt to free herself from his grasp.
“Hush, ye brat!” he whispered harshly in her ear. “Or I’ll kill yer mangy mutt!”
His threat worked and she immediately gave up.
With Orabilis still in his arms, he went to his horse, grabbed the reins and drew it near the large rock. ’Twasn’t easy, but he managed to scurry up the boulder and climbed onto his horse. A moment later, he had his horse at a full run, heading away from his farm.
* * *
Connor had been watching his newly discovered nieces playing together in the yard. It had not taken long to learn that little Orabilis was just as feisty, just as fierce as Alysander had described her. Within moments after introducing himself to the little girl, he knew that she was, even at the tender age of six, a force of nature unto herself.
The older three girls, while quite sweet and adorable, were not quite so unabashedly bold as their youngest sister. They were far more quiet and reserved. Connor knew it would take some time for them to warm to these strangers, even if those strangers were related to Alysander.
Some time had passed when he noticed Orabilis and her dog were no longer playing in the yard near the barn. Something unsettling began to grow deep in his belly, but he was not quite ready to panic just yet. “Where did Orabilis go off to?” he asked her three sisters.
Soon, they were searching around the yard and barn, calling out her name.
“Sometimes she likes to hide, but no’ fer long,” Mariote told him as she looked into each of the stalls inside the barn. “Orabilis!” she called out. “Mum needs to see ye.”
They were met by eerie silence. That was when Mariote’s expression changed from calm to concern. She looked at Connor. “She always comes when we say Mum needs her.”
They hurried out of the barn and called for Orabilis once again. Nothing.
Panic began to well in Connor’s belly. From the expressions on the other girls’ faces, he knew they were feeling the same.
“Alec!” Connor called to one of his men who had taken up sentry on the west side of the farm. “Have ye seen the youngest girl?”
Before Alec could answer, Wulver came racing into the yard, barking loudly. Connor and the girls turned to watch as the dog came bounding down the hill. Connor held his breath, hopeful that little Orabilis would be right behind him. When she did not immediately appear, he headed toward the hill and raced up it, all the while praying the little girl was on the other side picking flowers or whatever it was that little girls of six did. Behind him, the dog continued to bark ferociously as the other girls continued to call out for their sister.
He stood at the top of the hill and gave a quick scan of the area below. Nothing but a boulder and a few bushes. Thinking that mayhap she was on the other side of the boulder, he raced down the hi
ll as fast as he could. His heart pounded against his chest, not from exertion but from unadulterated worry over a child he’d only just met an hour ago.
When he got to the boulder and raced around it, what he found made his blood run cold.
One tiny, blue slipper.
* * *
Orabilis was not afraid of Thomas McGregor. She was not afraid of any man, alive or dead. She had her sgian dubh tucked safely away inside her dress. If Muriale could use her sgian dubh to kill a man, then so could Orabilis.
Once she had seen Wulver running away — and only after Thomas had repeatedly tried to run him over with his horse — she felt better. Thomas had said he’d kill Wulver, not her, so she wasn’t truly worried. Besides, once her sisters saw Wulver return without her, they would know something was wrong and would come looking for her. Hopefully they would bring her new uncle, Connor, with them. Not because she needed him to protect her or rescue her from Thomas McGregor. Nay, she wanted a grown up there to witness her bravery. She’d wait until Connor or Alysander was there before she killed Thomas.
Because she wasn’t truly afraid, she was able to think clearly, or at least in her own mind it all made sense. Thomas was too focused on getting away from his farm to pay much attention to what she was doing.
All along the way, she left signs for her family to follow. First she dropped her other slipper, then the bits of food she always kept in her pouch for Wulver. Next, after carefully pulling the string from the pouch, she dropped it on the ground. After that she dropped the pouch, then the pretty bit of ribbon she used to bind her braid.
Later, she slipped one toe into the top of her woolens to slide it off. Although she was quite certain where they were headed, she didn’t want to drop the next woolen too soon, just in case he wasn’t taking her to her old home. When she looked ahead and caught sight of their old home, she breathed a sigh of relief, but waited, just in case Thomas was trying to trick her.
Moirra's Heart Series: The Complete Collection ( Moirra's Heart Series: The Complete Collection (The Moirra's Heart Series Book 3)) Page 23
