Highlander’s Moonlight Seduction
Adamina Young
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Contents
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Highlander’s Beautiful Liar
Prologue
Chapter 1
Also by the author
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About the Author
Prologue
Sunshine bathed the rolling fields of heather as Moira bent down to pick more for her bouquet. It was the perfect day for wool-gathering in the fields. It was still early enough in the morning that the land around the keep was quiet, more so than usual. The festivities last night had left most people, herself included, still sleepy as everyone began their morning chores.
Moira still couldn’t believe that so many Sinclairs had gathered to celebrate her birthday. For as long as she could remember, the Hamilton clan had been at war with one clan or another, so it was rare that anyone remembered her birthday let alone celebrated it. It wasn’t that her family didn’t love her. From the letters, she knew her parents missed her dearly. When someone had attempted to kidnap her and use her as a pawn in an already deadly war, her parents had sent her to the Sinclairs for safekeeping.
At first, she’d been terrified to be so far away from everything that she’d known, but the Sinclair laird was a quiet man with a calm disposition. His daughter, Grace, only a few years younger than Moira’s sixteen, had helped her assimilate, even at times corrupting Moira with her fierce need to wield a sword. His youngest son, Alec, a few years older than her, was a flirt with a winning smile and a playful nature, and he helped her feel like part of the family.
But it was Connor, the eldest son and heir to the lairdship, that was the first thing on her mind when she woke up in the morning and the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep. She felt a strange tug whenever she laid eyes on him. The spitting image of his father, Connor, like his brother, had dark hair, but not very long, that whipped around his face when the Highland winds blew, and green eyes that sparkled with intelligence. With a broad face, strong jawline, and high cheekbones, he was far more mature than most of the men—make that boys—that she was used to, and his mind always seemed to be working. He chose his words carefully, so when he told her how much she meant to him, she believed it.
Connor would never lie or speak flippantly. They were meant to be together, and because the Hamiltons and Sinclairs were allies, she knew their parents would not object.
Straightening, she fastened her bouquet together with some twine. At her back, she felt the intensity of his stare and knew he was watching her, but he hadn’t said anything, so she didn’t interrupt whatever he was doing. When she finished her bouquet for Connor’s mother, she started one for Grace. It wasn’t until she had nearly finished that he spoke. “I expected ye to be in bed ’til noon after last night’s festivities.”
“I am not one to languish in bed,” she informed him as she turned. As always, the sight of him made her catch her breath. “Yer mother and sister hosted a wonderful party in my honor, and I wanted to show my thanks.”
“My mother enjoys a festivity. That in itself is thanks enough. And my sister, well, anything that will get her to stay in her dress and not wear trousers is thanks enough for all of us,” he said with a wry grin. “I did not get to see much of ye last night.”
It was true. Alec and his friends made her dance and dance until her feet ached and her body was exhausted, although she had loved every minute of it. Connor had snagged her for a few dances before his father had called him away. She still remembered the way he had smiled when he held her hands as they danced around the large bonfire lighting up the night.
“Ye and yer father were gone most of the evening. Was everything all right?” After the festivities, she had foolishly waited by one of the secret entrances to the keep. Connor had shown them to her not long after she had come to stay with them, and it was in the privacy of those tunnels that their romance had blossomed. She had hoped more than anything that now that she was sixteen, he might finally kiss her, but he’d never showed up, and when she could barely keep her eyes open, she had finally gone to bed.
“Everything is fine. There was something that he wanted to give me.” Walking slowly through the flowers, he approached her. “Something for me to give to ye.”
Rooted to the spot, her heart hammered in her chest. “A birthday present?” she asked as she clutched at the flowers in her hand.
“Aye, but something that will last the rest of yer life.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a silver chain that glinted in the sun. At the end was a small round pendant with a seal etched onto the scarred silver. Two swords crossing over a shield and a stag. Protection and strength.
The Sinclair clan seal.
Unable to speak or even move, she just stared wordlessly at him. A similar pendant hung around his mother’s neck. Could it be?
“From the time I first understood what a union between a man and a woman meant, I learned that I would marry for politics. I watched my friends search for something more, but I wasnae jealous when they found it. There was no reason for me to hope for more until I met ye. My parents and yer parents have consented to a union between us, to strengthen our clans, but Moira, I come here today for yer consent, as a man willing to give himself over completely to the lass who has invaded his mind, body, and heart.”
Finally, she burst into life, throwing herself into his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Aye,” she shouted in his ear. “Aye! I love ye, Connor, and I want to be yer wife. When can we marry? Today?”
Chuckling, he whirled her around before he sat her down and placed the necklace over her head and around her neck. “I know others who have married young, but we will wait two years. Ye still have much to learn about yerself, and I will wait ’til ye are ready.”
Ready? She was more than ready. What else did she need to learn? She already knew that she loved him. Pouting, she reached up and touched his cheek. “If I am to wait, then may I at least have a kiss?”
“Oh, aye. I intend to give ye as many kisses as ye will allow me, my sweet Moira.” As he lowered his head, she closed her eyes in anticipation of the moment she felt like she’d been waiting her whole life for.
Unfortunately, before the moment could arrive, they were interrupted by terrified shouts. “Connor!” Grace screamed. “Connor, ye must come now!”
Gasping, Moira turned and gasped. Grace hadn’t quite learned to live up to her name, but she had never looked as disheveled as she did now. Her dress was torn and tears streaked down the ash that w
as caked onto her cheeks.
“Grace!” Connor stiffened. “What in the world happened to ye?”
“We are under attack! They came from nowhere,” she said and fell to her knees. “Connor...Mother, and Father. They’re…they’re dead.”
Horrified, Moira rushed to her friend, but Grace just screamed at her in fury and shoved her away. “They are wearing yer colors, Moira. They are Hamiltons.”
“No.” Moira’s blood ran cold, and she looked up at Connor. “No, ‘tis not possible.”
“They knew of the secret entrances. They came from the tunnels. I barely escaped, but I cannae find Alec. Connor, ye have to run. If they kill ye…”
“I will not run,” he said coldly. “We will fight. We willnae let them take our clan. Grace, go to the caves and hide. Do not return until Alec or I come for ye.”
“I willnae hide! I will fight!” Grace said fiercely.
“I am now yer laird, and ye will do as I say.”
“And what about her?”
Connor turned toward Moira, and she saw not an ounce of the man who’d proposed to her only a moment ago. “Leave,” he said hoarsely. “If I see ye on this land again, then I will have ye executed for treason.”
“No, Connor, I didnae do this. I would never!”
“Now!” he roared. “Moira, get out of my sight!”
His fury propelled her back. Swallowing the large lump in her throat, she turned and ran, the pendant around her neck bobbing up and down.
1
Seven years later
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When Moira first dreamed of what the happiest day of her life would look like, she’d pictured Connor Sinclair standing right by her side. Now that it was the happiest day of her life, it was ruined by the fact that Connor Sinclair was in the room, breathing the same air, and staring at her with that inscrutable expression he’d perfected over the years.
Determined not to give him the satisfaction of avoiding him, she met his gaze head-on while her uncle droned on in front of her. Connor was here for the ceremony, but he was paying about as much attention to it as she was. It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d proposed and she’d accepted. Since he’d exiled her and she ran for her life.
Seven years and what felt like several lifetimes ago. She refused to allow herself to feel anything as she let her gaze move from him and sweep over the rest of the room. Although the king couldn’t make it himself, he’d sent a representative. Several of the surrounding clan lairds were there, and most of the Hamilton guards were present. As for her own family, she and her Uncle Tyree were it. Her mother had passed many years ago, and she’d lost her father and both of her brothers to a rock slide six months ago. Her uncle, her only living relative, had reluctantly taken over as laird until Moira married.
The handsome man kneeling at her uncle’s feet was, in everyone’s mind, to be her husband. Hamish Hamilton, or as most of the clan called him, the Hamilton Hero, and he had enough feats under his belt to have earned that title. Just last week he’d saved three orphans from a stampede of wild boars. A month ago, he’d pulled a family from a burning building, and most claimed that he single-handedly ended the Hamilton-MacGregor feud.
He had a face that made the women swoon, the disposition to handle the unstable political nature of the Highlands, and the kindness and strength to make an excellent husband.
He would not, however, be Moira’s husband.
After much pleading and her staunch refusal to marry, the king had agreed to give Tyree leave to name an heir who was not related by blood or marriage. At this very moment, her uncle was declaring Hamish as heir and Moira was free. Finally, after years of pressure, she was free to pursue the life she really wanted.
It really was the perfect day, with the exception of Connor’s presence.
Two years after he’d exiled her, he gallantly rode to the Hamilton keep to end the tensions between them. He resigned the peace treaty and presented his formal apology to the Hamilton family and to her for accusing her of having a hand in the murder of his parents.
She was conveniently not there for that.
Three years after that, he passed through the Hamilton lands to attend the celebration of the birth of his niece. Moira made sure not to be around when he spent the night at the keep. Last year, the annual peace treaty was held here, and he returned for that. Once again, Moira was not there.
If she’d known that he would be here today, she probably would have avoided this as well. As it was, she had plenty of preparations to make, so at least she wouldn’t spend much time celebrating afterward. If she could make it through the night without having to converse with Connor, she would consider the day a success.
After Hamish finished swearing his oath of loyalty to his people, he stood and he and Tyree embraced. Moira forced herself back into the present as Hamish took her hand and lifted it to his lips. Nodding, she tried not to worry about the fact that his lips lingered a little too long.
“Now then,” Tyree roared. “Let us eat!”
Holding her skirts up and her head high, she staunchly ignored the gazes that turned to her as she filed out first and led everyone to the great hall. As she took her spot at the table, next to her uncle and across from Hamish, her heart dropped when Connor took a seat next to Hamish where he could watch her throughout the meal. Perhaps just as worse, the elderly and recently widowed Laird MacSeaver sat next to her. He was as randy as a man forty years his junior and his hands had a tendency to roam, especially when he drank. It was bad when he was married. It was worse now.
“Hamish, I know that this is in yer honor, but Moira, my dear, I couldnae keep my eyes from ye. Ye were a vision standing up there,” MacSeaver slurred as he took her hand and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. Moira groaned inwardly, but she couldn’t pull her hand away without looking rude.
“That is so sweet of ye to say,” Moira simpered as she smiled up at him. “I was so pleased to stand up there and support Hamish. I believe he’s an excellent choice and just what we need!” Batting her eyes, she squeezed his hand, digging her nails into his skin until his eyes widened with pain. When she released his hand, he didn’t fight and immediately folded his hands in his lap.
“Yes, well, that lovely blue suits ye,” he muttered as he picked up his glass and drained it.
“Moira is a vision in every color,” Hamish chimed in sweetly, and when he smiled at her, it was genuine. His affections for her were real, but she knew that she would never return them, and that was why she needed to take this next step. If she couldn’t stomach a marriage to Hamish, then what was left for her?
Connor was quiet, but he was watching the exchange closely. The blank look on his face made her far more uneasy than anything else that had happened. “Enough about me,” she said breathlessly. “This is for Hamish.” She raised her goblet. “To Hamish, the Hero of Hamilton, and now the next leader of our wonderful people.”
Everyone lifted their goblets, cheered, and drank to Hamish.
An hour later, after grand stories and discussions about the future of Hamilton, music started up outside around a large bonfire, and the talk turned to laughter and dance. Moira did her duty, dancing with all who asked, and by the time Hamish held out his arm to her, she was nearing the end.
“Ye look tired,” he murmured afterward. “Will ye walk with me during the next turn?”
“Aye,” she laughed as she took his arm. “My feet most certainly need a break.”
Away from the crowd, he slowed his pace so she didn’t have to hurry next to him. “Moira, there is something on my mind that I wish to speak with ye about. I know that for some time, ye have been pressured to wed, the selection of yer husband to become the next laird. I know that ye have been bombarded with marriage offers, and some have not been kind.”
It was true. She’d been bullied, taunted, and in some cases, blackmailed. Quite a few of her clan still believed that she had a hand in the death of the Sinclair laird. For years, no o
ne had dared get close to her until they realized how much power she wielded. “Ye have not asked.”
“No, I did not. The truth, Moira, is that I didnae want this position simply because of who I married. I wanted to earn it.”
“And ye have done that. No one doubts yer ability to do this job and do it well.” Her heart skipped a beat, and she hoped that he wouldn’t force her to dampen his spirits. “And I am pleased that I am not forced into a marriage. I doonae think it would suit me.”
“Ye are wrong, Moira,” he said seriously as he stopped short. “Ye are the most breathtaking woman that I have ever met. Smart, sweet, and loving. Ye would make an excellent wife.”
Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give up. “Hamish…”
“Let me speak, lass,” he murmured. “Ye have the freedom to marry as ye wish. Yer uncle has told me that he will never force ye. Now that I am to be laird, I understand the pressure of making the right choice in a marriage. I realize that I have not made any romantic overtures before, but I have watched ye grow up from a lovely lass to the stunning woman that ye are now. Every day, I will treat ye with reverence and respect. I will honor yer wishes and listen to ye in clan matters. If ye consent to be my wife, we will make this clan stronger for it.”
With a small smile, she reached up and cupped a hand over his cheek. “Ye are a wonderful man. I meant it when I said that ye would make a great and strong laird, and I know that ye will make a wonderful husband, but ye deserve to marry for love, and I know that ye doonae love me. Ye like and respect me, just as I like and respect ye. It would be enough for some, but ’tis not enough for me, and I believe ’tis not enough for ye.”
Highlander's Moonlight Seduction (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 1
