Banished & Welcomed: The Laird's Reckless Wife (Love's Second Chance Book 14)

by Bree Wolf

  “But it is,” Maeve objected, a rather indulgent smile on her kind face. “Ye dunna wish to see it because ye’re afraid, but if ye do love my son, I promise ye that no matter how far ye run, ye will never be free of him.” She sighed, “Believe me, ye’ll waste yer life ignoring something that could’ve brought ye happiness.”

  Moira stared at her. “Do ye think I want to leave?” she demanded, anger mixing with the hopelessness that had begun to sneak into her heart once she had realised how much Cormag meant to her. “I am leaving because I dunna have a choice.”

  “But ye do.”

  “How?” Moira snapped as she pushed to her feet. “Ye know as well as I do that…that yer people will never accept me, not as one of their own, not as…” Swallowing, she bowed her head, her hands clasped together as longing tore at her.

  “Oh, but they will,” Maeve whispered as she too rose to her feet. “Ye might not have noticed for fear of disappointment, but people dunna see ye the same way as they did three years ago. Ye’ve made friends, have ye not?”

  Looking up, Moira found the other woman standing in front of her, her hands reaching out to grasp Moira’s. “Perhaps, but…then there’s Ian. He−”

  Maeve shook her head. “Ian is one man.”

  “He hates me!” Moira had to fight the urge to cringe at the memory of how his hands had dug into her throat. “There’s no knowing what he’ll do. It’ll divide the clan. Yer son said so himself. He worries that−”

  “Cormag always worries,” Maeve interrupted with a slight roll of her eyes. “He doesna like to take risks. But sometimes,” a soft smile lit up her face as her dark green eyes looked deep into Moira’s, “sometimes ye have to or ye’ll gain nothing but lose everything.”

  Staring at Maeve, Moira did not know what to say as her heart warred with her mind, oddly reminding her of Cormag’s greatest fear: to lose control without ever getting it back.

  “I think my son is slowly coming to see that,” Maeve told her, “but if ye leave now, it might be too late. He’ll need more time. He needs ye to trust him, to believe that ye belong together.”

  “How can ye say that?” Moira exclaimed. “Ye dunna know me. Ye dunna know−”

  “I know my son,” Maeve replied, “and ‘tis true what Ian says; he has changed.”

  Maeve’s words felt like a slap in the face. “All the more reason for me to leave,” Moira sniffed as her courage began to wane.

  “Ye misunderstood me,” Maeve said, holding onto Moira’s hands when she tried to pull them away. “Lately, I see his mask slip more and more, especially when ye’re around because ye make him feel. I canna tell ye how worried I’ve been that he had insisted on spending his life alone. All he knows is his duty to the clan, his responsibility. He’s so concerned to do right by everyone that he forgets to do right by himself.” Maeve squeezed her hands. “He needs ye as much as ye need him. Even if I were blind, I could see that.”

  Balling her hands into fists, Moira fought to cling to her resolve. “I dunna believe ye.”

  “Then go to him,” Maeve whispered, her dark green eyes daring Moira to accept her challenge. “He deserves to know that ye’re planning to leave. He deserves to hear it from ye.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then go and speak to him,” Maeve urged. “Ask him how he feels about ye, or better yet, ask him for a kiss.” A devilish grin curled up her lips. “Men can be frightfully ignorant sometimes, unable to read their own hearts, but ye’ll know.”

  Moira swallowed, unable to deny that the thought of kissing Cormag again, even if for the last time, was terribly tempting. “But even if ye’re right, even if he truly cares for me, the clan−”

  Maeve laughed, “Love is the essence of our clan, of any family. Aye, we fight and argue, but deep down, we love each other. We stand as one because we care. Without love, our clan would wither and die.” Patting Moira’s hand, Maeve stepped back. “Think about it.”

  Watching Maeve walk away, Moira stood in her small kitchen, listening for the front door to close and for Maeve’s soft footsteps to disappear as she headed back up the small path to Seann Dachaigh Tower.

  Feeling her knees buckle, Moira sank back down onto her chair, afraid that if she did as Maeve had asked, she might not have the strength to leave.

  But it was the only way, was it not?

  31

  Just Because

  Striding down the corridor toward his study, Cormag turned a corner and paused as he found Moira there. With her head bowed, she was pacing up and down the floor in front of his door, her hands clenched and her teeth worrying her lower lip. She seemed oblivious to his presence, her eyes downcast and overshadowed. There was something strangely vulnerable about the dark shadows that drifted over her face as though something pained her greatly.

  And then she looked up and saw him, and for a split second, her face lit up like the morning sun, her deep blue eyes aglow with joy.

  Cormag’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt an answering smile claim his own face.

  And then the shadows returned, and her face fell as she headed toward him, urgency in her step as though someone were after her.

  Cormag tensed. Ian? “Are ye all right?” he demanded, reaching for her hands when she stopped in front of him.

  A shuddering breath left Moira’s lips when his fingers brushed over hers and her blue eyes fluttered upward to meet his. “I’m fine,” she whispered, and her gaze held his, lingering as though she could not bring herself to look away.

  “Ye seem nervous,” Cormag observed, still not convinced that she was telling him the truth. Something was clearly upsetting her, and he needed to know what it was.

  “I’ve spoken to Maggie,” she said, and her eyes fell from his as though in shame. Cormag knew that whatever she was about to say would not find his approval.

  “Why?”

  For a long moment, she remained quiet, increasing his torment. “I asked her to help me find a position in England.”

  Her words seized his heart, trapping it in an iron vice, squeezing it painfully. He felt wounded, weakened, as though his knees could no longer support him, and his eyes fluttered closed as he wished with every fibre of his being that all this was merely a bad dream.

  “Are ye all right?” Her soft whisper reached his ears a moment before he felt her hand brush over his cheek.

  When Cormag opened his eyes, he found Moira standing barely an arm’s length away, her blue eyes full of concern as she looked up at him. Her hand stayed where it was, the pad of her thumb gently skimming over his cheek. “Ye dunna need to leave,” he croaked, willing himself to remain calm and not succumb to the panic that surged through him. “I swear ye’ll be safe here.”

  Her gaze darkened, and her hand fell from his face, taking her warmth with it. “’Tis not that,” she whispered, and he could see that she was searching for the right words to explain herself.

  Cormag tensed, and he wondered if this time it Ian was not who sent her running from Seann Dachaigh Tower. Was she uncomfortable being near him after he had so foolishly revealed his affections for her? Still, the look in her eyes spoke of sadness and…

  Cormag gritted his teeth, wishing for the thousandth time that he could read her heart. “Why are ye leaving, Lass?”

  “There…there are many reasons,” Moira began before her head rose and her eyes tentatively sought his. “I think ‘twould be for the best. For all of us.” A brave, little smile teased her lips; still, her gaze remained shrouded in sadness and regret. “Ye were right when ye cautioned me not to…feel too deeply. I think it best that I put some distance between myself and…and the clan. To begin again somewhere far away.” Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she forced them back.

  “Are ye certain?” Cormag asked, wanting nothing more but to lock her up and throw away the key. Still, she was right, and he knew that her words were meant as a request for him not to feel too deeply, to be reasonable and see that she needed to go.

&nbs
p; Moira nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and while ye were right that I shouldna have left that night without thought, without a plan, I know that I must leave. ‘Tis the right thing to do. Ye know that.”

  Cormag could not bring himself to answer. All his strength went into keeping him rooted to the spot lest he do something she did not want.

  “Thank ye for everything.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “If ye hadn’t looked out for me the way ye did, I dunno…” She shook her head, blinking back tears. “Thank ye. Ye’re a wonderful laird. Yer clan is fortunate to have ye.” Then she turned around and walked away.

  Staring after her, Cormag once again felt as though he had strayed into a nightmare. Did she truly think of him thus? As a laird looking out for his people? For her? Did she not know how much he had come to care for her? Had he not made it clear after all?

  Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, Cormag remembered an afternoon in his study when she had asked him why he was looking after her, and he had told her that it was his duty as laird. How could he blame her for thinking that when he himself had told her so?

  And then Cormag felt himself move, his feet carrying him down the corridor after her, knowing that he could not allow her to leave without her knowing the truth.

  He had almost caught up with her when Moira suddenly paused, her feet still as she stood in the corridor. A moment of silence lingered before she suddenly turned, her eyes widening as she found him right in front of her. A smile flitted across her face, and swallowing, she took a step toward him. “There’s…there’s a favour I would ask ye.” Her voice held little strength, and Cormag frowned at the rosy blush that touched her cheeks.

  “Aye?” Was this about another vision? He wondered. Whenever she had asked him for a favour before it had always been in connection to something she had seen in her dreams.

  “Would ye…?” she paused, closing her eyes as though to gather her courage, and Cormag felt something deep inside twitch in anticipation. “Would ye kiss me? Again? B-Before I leave?” Her eyes drifted from his as a nervous chuckle spilled from her lips. “I know ‘tis a strange request, and ye dunna have to if ye−”

  “Why?”

  Her eyes snapped back to his at the harshness in his tone. “Just…just because,” she whispered, uncertainty in her voice. Still, there was something in her blue eyes that drew him near.

  Cormag hesitated, but no more than a second before the need to hold her became too overwhelming, and he found himself reaching for her without another thought.

  Her body moulded perfectly to his own as she stepped into his embrace, his arms holding her to him. A smile rested on her lips as she lifted her head, her hands reaching for him, pulling him closer.

  In that moment, everything seemed simple, and Cormag knew that he could not let her go.

  Still, neither could he force her to stay.

  When his mouth claimed hers, just because, Cormag could have sworn that the world shifted off its axis. His heart calmed and sped up at the same time, and he felt utterly unhinged, and yet, perfectly balanced.

  Returning his kiss, Moira clung to him, and he felt her hands urge him closer, rising to brush over his shoulders and upward until they vanished in his hair. There was a desperate need in her as though any moment could be her last.

  Their last.

  Cormag knew how she felt as the threat of her departure hung over them, and he did not know how to make her stay. How to make her want to stay. She clearly did as much as she did not.

  Confusion filled Cormag’s heart and mind, and a tortured growl rose from his throat as frustration washed over him. His hands on her tightened, unwilling to ever release her, and he pushed her up against the wall, kissing her with a desperate need he had held in check for far too long.

  Nothing and no one existed but them, and Cormag did not hear the voices that approached from around the corner until it was too late.

  32

  A Mother’s Interference

  Moira lost herself in his kiss, understanding with perfect clarity the longing that lived within her as Cormag held her close.

  And then closer.

  Words had not come, could not express how she felt when he looked at her and knew how she felt. He had told her that he could not sense what lived in her heart, and yet, she could not believe that to be true. There was something in the way he responded to her, not only her words, but the subtle emotions that sparked to life now and then, whispering of a longing, a deeper bond that existed only if it received an answer.

  And he did know. Somehow, he always did.

  Never in her life had Moira felt so overwhelmingly complete, and her heart broke at the thought of what she would lose once she left Seann Dachaigh Tower behind. Maeve’s words echoed in her mind, and she saw Maggie’s face drift in front of her eyes, sadness and regret clinging to her like cobwebs. Something she could not escape. Something that would stay with her every day for the rest of her life. Would this be Moira’s life as well? A life filled with regret and longing that could never be fulfilled?

  Panic surged through her, and her body urged her closer, deeper into his embrace, desperate to feel him, to know that he was there.

  That he was still here.

  At least for now.

  And then Cormag froze, and dimly, Moira noticed the faint echo of voices nearby. Close. Too close. Their echo grew louder as her focus shifted from the man who held her in his arms to the world around them, and Moira knew that they were no longer alone.

  “How marvellous to see ye two together!” Maeve exclaimed, clapping her hands, her voice almost shrill to Moira’s ears. “Ye’ll make a wonderful couple, don’t ye agree?”

  A cacophony of voices washed over Moira, and she realised in that moment that Maeve had not come upon them alone. Indeed, half the corridor was filled with people, friends, who gawked at them, some faces smiling while others looked rather taken aback.

  Her aunt stared at her open-mouthed; still, after the initial shock passed, a slight curl came to Fiona’s lips that spoke of something other than disapproval and disappointment. Something warm and affectionate rested in her eyes, and she clasped her hands together as though in joy.

  Emma and Finn as well as Claudia and Garrett had found their way to this place and time as well. They each stood close to the one they loved, exchanging knowing glances before once more turning to smile at her and Cormag. It was as though they had come upon something they had always suspected but never dared hope to see.

  Maggie, too, smiled at her; however, her smile held something wistful and heart-breaking, whispering of a longing unfulfilled, urging Moira to not be reckless with the happiness within her reach. After all, everything could be lost.

  Cormag looked from face to face, his hands still lying gently on her waist as though they simply belonged there, as though they were a part of one another, and Moira wondered at the warmth she felt. If he had stepped back, if he had released her, she would have felt shaken to her core under the scrutiny of those who had come upon them so unexpectedly.

  Everything was different with him by her side. Did he feel the same?

  Cormag tensed, and his gaze met hers for a split second before he dropped his head as though in defeat. Still, his hands remained around her, holding on.

  Moira bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered when realisation found her, and the cold returned. “I shouldna have asked ye for a kiss here…out in the open. I…” Had Maeve known?

  Glancing at his mother, Moira frowned. She could not imagine how Maeve could have known to find them here, now, in this moment, but she was certain that Cormag’s mother had known, and Moira had played right into her hands.

  As though echoing her thoughts, Maeve strode forward, hands raised in jubilation. “’Tis been about time that our laird chose his bride!” she exclaimed, turning to look at the small crowd she had somehow coaxed into accompanying her. “We’re overjoyed that ye’ve found one another.”


  On cue, voices rose, their joyful echoes resonating within the corridor as they wished them well, offering their congratulations.

  Moira had never felt so ill in her life.

  Swallowing, she looked into Cormag’s face, not surprised, but shocked, to see the frighteningly furious gleam that shone in his dark eyes. His jaw was clenched, and she only now realised that the hands that still held on to her had tightened to the point of pain.

  A cold shiver gripped her as she sought his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didna know.”

  Cormag exhaled a slow breath, forcing his anger back under control. Then he stood back, and his hands fell from her waist. Tension held him rigid as he slowly turned to stare down at his mother. “I need a word with ye,” he all but growled, the impact of his tone showing in the frowns springing up on multiple faces.

  Maeve, however, looked unperturbed as her son grasped her arm and all but dragged her down the corridor and into his study, shutting the door with a loud bang that spoke clearly of his anger.

  Left alone, Moira wished the earth would open and swallow her whole. Instead, she found herself swept into one embrace after another as more congratulations were uttered.

  “I always knew he cared about ye,” Garrett told her with a wink, drawing Claudia closer into his arms. “I’m glad he’s finally admitted it to himself.”

  Had he? Moira wondered when Garrett and Claudia stepped back, making room for Emma and Finn. “After the way ye’ve helped us,” Emma beamed, her eyes aglow as she looked at her husband, “I’m doubly happy to see that ye’ve finally found one another.”

  Next came Fiona, her eyes wide and her mouth opening and closing, before she threw up her hands with a smile and simply pulled Moira into her arms. “Ye’ve done well, dear. I’m proud of ye.”

  Tears began to mist Moira’s eyes. She could not help but feel touched by the kind words and affectionate smiles granted her on this day. Never would she have expected to find people in this place that would come to care for her. And yet, they had. But how would they feel if they knew that−even unknowingly−she had helped Maeve trick her son into marriage?