9
Grace and Ainsley were in Moira's room before she'd even opened her eyes. Upon hearing that the wedding was taking place that day, they had decided to take it upon themselves to make it a ceremony the clan would talk about for ages. Moira woke to the demands that she get out of bed and into the tub that was waiting for her. Before she could ask why she needed a bath in the morning, Ainsley ripped back the covers, and Grace pulled her from the bed.
"What?" Moira began as she sat up wildly. "What the devil are the two of ye doing?"
"We are going to make ye the most beautiful bride in all the land, and since I have no idea how to do that, Ainsley has agreed to help," Grace declared.
Scrunching up her face, Moira glared at her friend. "Are ye saying that I require extra help to be beautiful?"
"Nay, of course not. I am just not good at all the lady things."
Turning her head, Moira squinted at the window. "'Tis still dark. Can I just have a few more minutes to..."
"Not a chance!" Grace shouted. "Undress yerself or we will do it for ye! Ye will smell of perfume and flowers, and yer skin will glow like the morning dew when we are finished with ye!"
What were these words coming out of Grace's mouth? Her brain still muddled from sleep, Moira stood and looked around wildly. Apparently she was not moving fast enough before hands clasped at the laces of her nightdress. Moira shrieked as she was all but shoved into the tub.
Suddenly, the door separating her room from Connor's swung open, and Connor came charging in, half-dressed, with his sword in hand. "What is happening here!"
Gasping, Moira brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Grace and Ainsley quickly stepped in front of her to hide her naked body from Connor. "Brother, have ye lost yer mind? Ye cannae just charge into a lady's chambers if ye arenae married to her, and ye are certainly not married to her yet."
Peering around Grace, Moira suppressed a chuckle when she saw Connor's confusion and embarrassment. "There was shouting. I thought she might be in danger,” he said lamely, his cheeks rapidly turning red.
"I am in danger," Moira muttered. "This is ridiculous."
"We are getting Moira ready to be yer lovely bride. Ye should start prepping yerself. I have instructed the servants to ready ye a bath as well. Ye need to shave. I have it on good authority that no woman wants to feel that stubble between her..."
"Grace!" Connor and Moira shouted together. Humiliation washed over her, and she ducked back behind Grace and squeezed her eyes shut. She'd never imagined her wedding morning would go quite like this.
Then again, she hadn't thought she'd be having a wedding morning for a very long time.
Marriage. Moira's chest suddenly tightened, and the three figures in the room faded away from her mind. Her skin began to tingle, and her vision narrowed.
"Moira?" Grace said uncertainly. "Moira, are ye all right?"
"What?" Connor demanded. "What is wrong with her? Why is she breathing like that?"
Ainsley stepped forward to block his path. "Connor, I think perhaps ye should get to yer own preparation and leave this to us."
"What is wrong with her?" Connor thundered.
His anger only made things worse, and her chest grew tighter, her breaths harder to take.
"’Tis just wedding jitters," Ainsley assured him. “Now let us do our job."
"Wedding jitters?" he repeated. "Moira, do we need to speak?"
"No," she gasped. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him about her panic. "I am fine."
"See, she is fine, although you are wasting her time, and her bath is growing cold. I suggest you leave us unless ye want yer bride to begin yer marriage with the sniffles."
"All right," he acknowledged. Moira heard the door finally close, and she buried her head in her hands.
"Moira," Ainsley said quietly, "tell us what is on yer mind.”
“’Tis silly," Moira admitted as she struggled to get her breathing under control. "I agreed to this marriage. I understand that's ’tis the key to my freedom, yet I doonae think it felt real 'til now.”
"'Tis natural to feel overwhelmed on yer wedding day but in this case, ’tis more. I cannae imagined how betrayed ye felt by Connor," Ainsley said kindly. “No one will think any differently of ye if ye need more time.”
“Ye forget that few think well of me now,” Moira pointed out dryly, Slowly, she was able to forcibly relax her muscles and straighten out her legs. Her breathing returned to normal, but her heart continued to beat wildly, and her throat was tight.
"Doonae think of anyone else,” Ainsley said firmly. "Ye have the rare opportunity to think of yerself going into this marriage. ’Tis not as though yer family is forcing ye.”
Ainsley was right. Uncle Tyree was there to sweep her away and take her home. His successor had promised her a safe home for the rest of her life. Moira did not have to wed. She could not imagine how life had been for Ainsley and countless other women who were forced into a marriage and suffered as their futures turned into nightmares.
Moira was different. She was running to this marriage to end her nightmare. She was willing to give up the protection of her family and accept the protection of a man who'd once thought the worst of her.
She was trusting him to not betray her for a second time.
And she did trust him.
The realization eased the tension from her body even as her panic was replaced by a niggling fear. The fear that like that sixteen-year-old girl, she was once again a naive fool.
Grace had turned her back and was fussing with the dress that Moira would wear. She was not supporting Ainsley, but Moira knew it wasn't because Grace was being cruel. No, she saw this as an opportunity to make up for her past sins.
"I doonae believe Connor would hurt me." Again. "I see no reason to hesitate or second-guess myself."
Grace whirled around. "Are ye certain? "
"Aye." With a soft smile, Moira nodded. “Now hand me the soap. I believe that I am supposed to glow."
An hour later, Moira was finally allowed to leave. Ainsley continued to fuss over her. Grace tried to help but was mostly shooed away. When she was dressed, she was allowed out of her room to speak to her uncle on penalty of death if she let her dress drag in the dirt. It was clear that Tyree wasn’t happy, but he agreed to be cordial.
On her way back, Hamish stopped her and asked her if she was certain with her decision. She searched his face carefully, looking for signs of jealousy or even lingering love, but there was none. Only an honest need for her to be happy.
If it wouldn’t have been outright rude, she would have laughed. For years, she had held off on marrying, much to everyone’s annoyance. Now that she’d decided to marry, everyone was worried about her.
It was disconcerting.
When Moira returned to her chambers, Ainsley was gone. “She wanted to look over some last-minute details,” Grace said with a shrug. “And she said that I was only getting in her way. I have never made a vera good mistress of the keep.”
No, Grace was always more interested in playing with the warriors rather than learning needle-thread or managing the servants. “Lucky for ye that Helena can do the job with her eyes closed.”
“Helena?”
“Aye, she has been with us for years and has taken over managing the servants and planning the festivities. On the days that she can catch me, she makes me help.” Grace made a face. “Of course, now she can bother you about it.”
“I suppose the least I can do is help out. The cottage is close to the keep,” Moira mused. “Grace, I am glad that ye are here.”
“Are ye?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Grace folded her hands in her lap. “For years, I have mourned the loss of ye and wondered what it would have been like if we were sisters. Now ye will be, but I cannae help but feel as though ’tis against yer will.”
“No. As Ainsley pointed out, I have a choice, and I choose Connor. Perhaps ’tis not for the same reasons that
I chose him before, but I amnae going into this marriage blind or unwilling, and having ye as a sister is most assuredly one of the perks.”
Moira tried to look out the window to see what was going on outside, but Grace continued to herd her away until there was a knock on the door. “Lass,” Tyree said gently. “’Tis time.”
“Uncle, ye doonae have to look as though ye are marching me to a funeral. Ye told me once that ye believed Connor would be a good man, like his father,” Moira reminded him. It had been an offhand comment, and he’d immediately looked distraught, but she had simply changed the subject.
“I want ye to be happy, Moira. ’Tis been my only true wish.” Reaching up, he curved a finger over her cheek. “I fear that if he makes ye unhappy, I will start a war.”
“It will not be necessary. I am more than capable of taking care of myself these days.” Winding her arm through his, she took a deep breath. “All right. Let us get me married.”
Only a few people gathered outside the church. Moira wasn’t certain if this was the clan taking a stand against their laird’s marriage or if Connor had decided to keep it small on her behalf. No matter the reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable.
A blustery wind blew through, so the ceremony was held inside the small church. Hamish, the small group of men they had brought, and Ainsley sat on one side. Grace and some guards in Sinclair colors, and presumably their wives, sat on the other. A young priest waited, almost nervously, at the front.
Moira focused on the priest as she and Tyree quickly made their way to the front. Quite a few priests from England made their way to the Highlands to make sure that they didn’t return to their heathen ways. They may have invited God into their homes, but there was still some of the old magic that kept a firm hold on their traditions. Most young priests were terrified when they arrived.
Connor, on the other hand, simply looked impatient.
“Ye are here,” he said softly, almost so softly that she missed it. “I wasnae sure if ye would be.”
“As Ainsley said, all brides react differently on their wedding day. I am here, though. Are ye certain that ye want to do this? From the looks of things, yer clan isnae here to support ye.”
“I have done everything for my clan. This I do because ’tis the right thing to do,” he said.
The right thing. Moira almost snapped that she was no one’s duty, but the poor Father looked like he might pass out any minute. If she started a fight with the groom on the day of the wedding, there may not be one.
“Father,” she said quietly as she approached him, “I have a request before we start the ceremony. An adjustment to make to the vows.”
“Laird?” Father Charles squeaked.
“Moira,” Connor growled.
“’Tis a small request,” she said calmly as she pulled out the piece of paper she’d tucked into the bodice of her dress. First, she handed it to Connor. His scowl deepened as he read it, but he nodded and handed it to the priest.
“Do it.”
Whispers rose from the congregation. Moira didn’t think it was possible, but the priest paled even further. He took a deep breath, tucked the note into his Bible, and began.
10
Connor hadn’t wanted a feast after the wedding. In fact, all he really wanted to do was to get his new bride alone, but there were some drawbacks to marrying in the middle of the day. Ainsley, however, had thrown herself into the festivities, and Grace was right there alongside her. It was odd for Grace to want to involve herself in any celebration, and Connor knew that Ainsley was trying to put the horrors of her past to the back of her mind, so he tried not to grumble too much.
The wedding had been open for anyone who wanted to attend, but he didn’t expect a full crowd. There was, however, a full great hall. While some were not happy to be in church, they were more than happy to take a break from work to eat and drink.
It would not last all afternoon. There was still work to be done, and his bride was already looking like she wanted to hide under the table. Her uncle was close to her at all times, and his gaze was glued to Connor. He was still unhappy with the arrangement, but there wasn’t much he could do. The deed was done.
With the chaste kiss at the altar, a sense of peace had settled in his chest. After all these years, Moira was finally his. It wasn’t what he’d first imagined, but at least his nights wouldn’t be eaten up by constant thoughts of her.
No, she’d be sleeping right next to him, even if it was in the old cottage of a crazy woman.
“Married at long last.” His three friends and guards were close by. Nathair was always the one to make light of the situation. Mungo, far too serious, remained silent, and Clyde, the one to keep the peace, simply smirked. After the ceremony, they had sworn their fealty to Moira as Mistress of the Sinclairs. He’d always allowed his men to speak freely, but so far, they’d remained mostly silent.
“Although if ye keep glaring at everyone, they may forget that ’tis a celebration,” Clyde observed.
“He is just eager to get back to his day,” Grace interrupted. “Ye know how focused he can be.” She cut a sharp look his way, and he tried to force himself to relax.
His sister no doubt feared he was unhappy about his wedding, but mostly, he was tense because he feared that someone would speak out of turn.
He’d promised Moira a sanctuary, and from some of the rumors that had reached his ears when he returned, he knew not everyone was happy that Moira was back.
Once, he’d threatened to execute her upon reentering his lands. Now, instead, he’d married her.
It wasn’t like that decree could still stand. She was proclaimed innocent. It wasn’t her fault that they hadn’t found the real culprits behind his parents’ deaths.
He picked up his glass of ale. “My sister is right. ’Tis hard for me to let go of my duties, even if it is for a few hours, but we have much to celebrate. To my wife, Moira, and to the beginning of a new chapter in the Sinclair story.”
Grace, his friends, and the Hamiltons were the first to raise their glasses, and eventually, the rest of the table did as well. There was a grunt, a cheer, and everyone drank as Moira reddened and smiled tentatively.
Strange. For years, she had been the center of attention of the Hamiltons as they waited to see who she would marry. Now, she almost seemed like she hated it.
Tyree seemed to notice as well. “Finish up, Connor. Hamish and I expect a tour before we leave in the morning.”
“Aye.” He was pleased to know that the Hamiltons were leaving in the morning. His men were uneasy, not knowing what to make of the temperamental laird. They had expected a battle before the wedding, but Connor had assured them that Tyree would put his niece’s happiness before his own feelings.
He wasn’t entirely certain that he was right, but there had been no threats of a feud during the ceremony.
So many obstacles, but when he looked at Moira, he somehow knew that it was worth it.
“And we are going to work on Miriam’s cottage,” Grace announced. “Tomorrow, I’ll introduce her to Helena.”
“Ye can both spend some time with Helena,” Connor said pointedly. Maybe Moira’s presence here will domesticate Grace.
Everyone seemed to read his mind and chuckled, but Grace just scowled at him. Luckily, she didn’t decide to argue.
After the festivities, Tyree and Hamish followed Connor out to some of the outlying villages. It was no secret that the Sinclair clan was comfortable and productive. Even his most outlying villages had everything they needed. Their gardens and animals were fruitful, and their vendors and crafters made trade possible. Everyone worked with the clan in mind rather than just themselves.
So Connor knew that Tyree wasn’t worried about whether he could provide for Moira. Rather, he saw this as a teaching moment for Tyree. The Hamiltons weren’t always known for their political tact and clan cooperation, but Tyree had done quite a bit to change that.
Apparently he wanted to mak
e sure that Hamish did the same. Connor approved.
Hamish seemed to understand as well. He was attentive and seemed eager to learn.
That was a good sign.
“So,” Hamish said as they rode back, “yer sister is interesting.”
“Interesting? I love my sister dearly, but she is a hellion,” Connor snorted. “I buy her the finest silks, and she trades them for trousers. She flirts with my men until they agree to give her combat lessons. She spends more time with the groomsmen, training the horses, than learning to manage a keep. Absolutely nothing I do seems to tame her.”
“Ye could find her a husband.”
“Make some other poor bastard miserable? Nay. When we were young, still reeling from the deaths of our parents, I swore that I would protect my siblings. I would see her happy. A forced marriage would break her. I can endure the constant headaches and the worry for my sister. I could not endure her unhappiness.”
“That is perhaps the first time I believe that ye and I see eye to eye,” Tyree said quietly.
“I feel the same about Moira. I know that ye have concern about our marriage. If I thought there was still room in my life for love, then I would give her my heart. I wish more than anything that I could go back and change that day, but I cannae. The only thing I can do now is to make sure that she is safe and happy.”
“The fact that ye would allow her to alter her wedding vows like that proves to me that ye have her best interests at heart. ’Tis why I can go tomorrow.”
“Ye will be welcome back at any time,” Connor promised him.
By the time they had returned, the celebrations were over. Everyone was too full for dinner, and Moira and Grace were nowhere to be found. Tyree and Hamish excused themselves, and Connor went in search of his bride.
The door to the cottage was ajar and light from a lantern spilled out. Connor hesitated on the small dirt path leading to the door. Maybe she needed tonight to herself. This morning, she could barely breathe at the thought of marrying him. Was he a monster to demand that she share his bed tonight, after everything?
Highlander's Moonlight Seduction (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 7
