Highlander's Moonlight Seduction (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

by Adamina Young

  Connor hadn’t approved, but he left it alone. Now, she was changed and ready to do her duty.

  Ah, but it was a long cry from the solitary life she had dreamed of.

  Connor was pacing impatiently outside the doors of the great hall. “There ye are,” he said crossly. “I beg of ye not to leave my side tonight.”

  “Did something happen?” Her breath caught in her throat. Had something else happened? Was he harmed? Immediately, she turned and slid her hands over his chest. “Are ye all right?”

  “Moira.” Chuckling, he clasped his hands and leaned down to kiss her gently on the cheek. “I didnae mean to panic ye. ’Tis just that with MacDonald here…”

  “Is that not the sweetest thing ye have ever seen, Sister?” someone said in a saccharine voice. Turning, Moira took one look at the golden beauty and her younger miniature walking their way, and froze.

  The woman was staring daggers at her.

  “Aye,” the younger said with a genuine smile. “Laird Sinclair, I apologize for interrupting yer moment. Father wanted us to wait, but Breanna wanted something to drink.”

  “’Tis quite all right, Gwen,” Connor said smoothly. “Ladies, I would like ye to meet my wife, Moira. Moira, these are Laird MacDonald’s lovely daughters, Breanna and Gwen.”

  Despite the icy chill emanating from Breanna, Moira stepped forward and clasped her hand. “Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet ye. I am pleased that ye can join us during yer visit.”

  “Moira Hamilton,” Breanna purred. “Allow me to congratulate ye on yer rather sudden marriage.” Deliberately, she looked down at Moira’s belly.

  The insinuation was more than clear even with Gwen watching her older sister in puzzlement. It was obvious that the two were as different as night and day. “’Tis Moira Sinclair now,” Moira said just as sweetly. “And I thank ye for yer kind words. It may seem sudden, but the truth is that our marriage has been in the works for quite some time.”

  Connor cleared his throat behind her, and she looked up in time to see an older couple descending from the stairs. While the man looked on with interest, the woman looked just as angry as her daughter.

  Stepping back, Moira joined her husband. “MacDonald. Lady Mary. I was just introducing yer daughters to my wife, Moira.”

  Moira waited until the couple had reached the bottom before she stepped forward. Acting as mistress of the Hamiltons, she was used to meeting other clan lairds. This was her home, so there was no need to curtsy, but she still inclined her head in respect. MacDonald took her hand and kissed it.

  “Moira. ’Tis a name that I know vera well, although that wouldnae surprise ye. Ye know, for some time, I was hoping that Sinclair would marry my Breanna, but now I can see why he held back. ’Twas true love in the works.”

  “Laird MacDonald, I heard much of ye during my summer here all those years ago. Connor’s parents spoke vera highly of ye, and I am pleased to see that yer alliance extends to him. Lady Mary, I look forward to getting to know ye.”

  It didn’t escape her notice that Mary did nothing to acknowledge her. “Come, Sinclair. I am ravenous,” MacDonald thundered. “Let us eat!”

  Chuckling, Connor opened the door and stepped back. Moira waited as the MacDonalds entered, and she held Connor’s arm before he could follow. “Am I to assume that Lady Breanna said something to ye and that is why ye doonae want to be alone during dinner?”

  “Lady Breanna? Nay. She is a sweet woman. ’Tis her mother that is the vulture. She isnae happy that I am wed, and her sharp tongue knows no boundaries.”

  Lady Breanna is a sweet woman? Hardly!

  MacDonald or his wife should have been seated on Connor’s other side, but somehow, Breanna was already at the seat when Connor and Moira joined them. The food was already on the table and the cups full. Everything looked and smelled delicious, like a perfect meal.

  It eased her fears, and all that was left was jealousy.

  Taking her seat directly in front of Breanna, Moira tried not to make comparisons. It wasn’t about looks, although Breanna was far more lovely. It was mostly about circumstances. She and Breanna were both daughters of lairds, but Breanna didn’t have the stigma of a murder accusation. She wasn’t hated by her clan. Instead, her family was beloved.

  The Sinclairs would have loved it if Connor had married her. So why hadn’t he?

  “I imagine that it must be difficult for ye, Moira. The Sinclair keep is far larger than the Hamilton one,” Breanna said with an innocent smile.

  Moira was not going to put on airs, not even for Breanna. “The keep was in excellent hands when I arrived, and Helena has been working hard to help me acclimate,” Moira acknowledged.

  “So ye are letting a servant run the keep?” Breanna gasped.

  That was not at all what she said. Moira opened her mouth, but Grace, seated next to Moira, cleared her throat. “Breanna, why are ye so interested in the management of the Sinclair keep? ’Tis Moira’s job as Connor’s wife to run the keep as she sees fit.”

  Next to her, Ainsley snorted and quickly took a drink from her ale. No one else seemed to catch on to Grace’s barb.

  “Of course,” Breanna said as she blushed furiously. “As I shall no doubt marry soon, I simply wanted a perspective from a newly married woman.”

  Connor reached for a biscuit. “I am certain that Moira will be happy to answer any of yer questions, Breanna.”

  Did he realize that he’d boxed Moira in? “Aye, Breanna. I am happy to help.”

  “Connor, when I was here last summer, ye showed me the most lovely field of heather. I was captivated by it. Perhaps tomorrow, ye will show me again?”

  Involuntarily, Moira dropped her fork. Field of heather. The very place that Connor had proposed to her. She had avoided it thus far, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit that he’d taken another woman there.

  Silly and immature, of course. Breanna was a woman who no doubt enjoyed picking flowers.

  “Of course,” Connor said politely.

  Suddenly, there was a sharp kick to her shins, and Moira gasped and turned. Grace looked annoyed, and Moira realized that Grace must have been aiming for her brother.

  “Something wrong, Moira?” Breanna asked.

  “Leg cramp.”

  “Connor…” Breanna started again, but she was interrupted by panicked shouts in the kitchen.

  “Fire! Fire!”

  Connor jumped to his feet. “Stay,” he ordered Moira before he raced toward the doors, his men in tow.

  “What is happening?” Mary gasped.

  “I doonae know, but the kitchens are a safe distance from the great hall. If everyone will just remain calm, then I am certain that Connor will take care of everything. Otherwise, we will calmly leave the hall and exit the keep through the side door.”

  “Breanna!” Gwen gasped. “She’s gone!”

  Of course Breanna’s seat was empty. “Grace, make certain that everyone remains calm,” Moira told her before she rushed to the kitchens. There was no telling what Breanna would do to get Connor’s attention, and if she hurt herself, the MacDonalds would blame the Sinclairs.

  Moira could not have that.

  Smoke was billowing out from the door, and Moira pushed the door open. Fear struck her. Connor had no doubt rushed in to make sure that everyone was out. What if he was still in there? “Connor! Connor!”

  Before she could go in, hands grabbed her. “What do ye think ye are doing?” Clyde growled as he pulled her to safety. “Killing yerself?”

  “Let me go, Connor is in there!” Moira screamed.

  “Connor is not in there.” Physically lifting her, Clyde hurried her out of the keep. Already, villagers were racing in with buckets of water.

  There was Connor, safe and sound.

  And kneeling over Breanna while she lovingly cupped his face.

  16

  It was late when the fire was out and the chaos had died down. Moira had stayed to the outskirts and tried to ignore the rumors t
hat were flying.

  Rumors that said she had set up the fire while she was working in the kitchens.

  Thankfully, no one was hurt. Connor finally thanked everyone for their hard work and asked them to return home. He retired as well, and soon Moira was the only one left staring at the damage.

  It was extensive and would take weeks to repair. Weeks without a kitchen for the keep. It didn’t matter how someone looked at it, the situation was bad. First, there were the rumors that Moira had deliberately set the fire. Then there were the ones who kindly thought she’d done it by accident. Her first big dinner was ruined. To feed her husband, guests, and staff, she’d have to have the food cooked elsewhere and brought in.

  And then there was Connor, kneeling over Breanna. The contact was brief before Connor pulled away, but she couldn’t get the image out of her head. MacDonald arrived quickly afterward and whisked her and the rest of her family away.

  “Moira?” Ainsley asked tentatively as she joined her. “Moira, what are ye doing here? ’Tis late. Ye should go to bed.”

  “I didnae set the fire,” she said dully.

  “Of course, Moira. I would never think that.”

  “Not deliberately or accidentally.”

  “Moira, ye are tired. Ye must go to bed. Are ye not moving into the cottage tonight?”

  “With the MacDonalds here, I should not. I should appear to be the mistress of the clan, farce that it is,” Moira whispered. “But perhaps I should move to the cottage. Perhaps the clan will feel calmer if I were not living here.”

  “Ainsley,” Connor said darkly, “please return to yer chambers. The kitchen is not a safe place to be at the moment.”

  Moira could barely acknowledge him as he stood next to her and put an arm around her waist.

  “Connor,” Ainsley whispered, “will ye see that Moira gets some sleep? Perhaps she will feel better in the cottage.”

  “Go to bed, Ainsley.”

  Was that anger in his voice? Moira flinched and turned to her husband. “Ye doonae have to worry about me. I will go.”

  “Go?” Connor asked as he grabbed her arm. “Where exactly do ye think ye are going, Moira?”

  Confused, she stared at him. Was he going to put her in irons? “To my cottage,” she said faintly. “Perhaps I should have one farther away. Maybe the clan will forget about me soon enough.”

  “Moira.” With a groan, Connor put his arm around Moira and gently led her out of the kitchen and to the stairwell. She didn’t even realize where they were heading until he opened the door to his chambers.

  “I need to pack. No, I doonae. I packed earlier.”

  And yet there was her valise on the bed, open and empty. “Connor?”

  “I amnae breaking my vow to ye, Moira, but I fear for yer safety. For now, ye will stay with me, here. I had the new lady’s maid unpack yer things for ye.”

  She had a new lady’s maid? Why? Women who lived alone in cottages didn’t have lady’s maids.

  “I know ye didnae set that fire. How could ye? Ye were with me for nearly an hour.”

  “But they think I did. Connor, the kitchen is gone. ’Tis the heart of the keep, where I am mistress, but ’tis nothing but a burnt shell.”

  Slowly, he undid the buttons of her dress, which still smelled of smoke. The shift came next, and then he undid the braid in her hair.

  Numbly, she turned and stared at him. “Do ye plan to show Breanna my heather field?”

  His eyes widened just a little, and his arms dropped. “Nay. I was going to have Grace take her. The first time I took her, we werenae alone, Moira.”

  “’Tis none of my business.”

  “Would ye like a nightdress for bed?”

  Wordlessly, she pulled away and climbed into the bed naked. Connor was quiet as he undressed, blew out the candles, and climbed in next to her. “Talk to me,” he said quietly in her ear.

  Turning in his arms, she stared up at him. “Ye should have never married me, Connor. I fear what ye have done to yer clan by bringing me here.”

  “This isnae yer fault, Moira. I willnae let ye blame yerself. Nor is this on me or my decisions. The only one at fault here is the one who wants me to doubt ye.”

  Startled, she turned to him. “Doubt me? Why would someone want that? Never mind. I doonae usually ask dumb questions. Someone still suspects me.”

  “Perhaps. Moira, ye have nothing to fear.”

  “Nothing to fear? Ye have been put in danger deliberately. Then ye raced into a burning kitchen! Ye could have died, Connor.”

  “And if something should happen to me, I know that both my brother and yer uncle would take ye back. Ye will still be safe, Moira. On my honor.”

  My safety. Is that all he thinks I care about? She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Slowly, he stroked his fingers up and down her spine.

  It comforted her, and she allowed his warmth to lull her to sleep.

  The next day, after waking to the brush of Connor’s lips on her forehead, Moira felt stronger and more determined. After dressing, she headed to the kitchen and found Helena staring at the damage.

  “I didnae do this,” Moira told her firmly. “And if ye believe so, I ask that ye keep yer suspicions to yerself.”

  Helena turned to her, and there was sadness in her eyes. “Nay, Moira. I doonae believe ye to be responsible for this. I thought many horrible things of ye when ye first arrived, but ye have worked hard. Ye would not have ruined it like this. It breaks my heart to see my kitchen like this.”

  In the time that Moira had spent with Helena, she had no idea that Helena felt that way, but she did see why the woman’s heart was broken. Running this keep had been her purpose in life. “Connor and I spoke this morning. He and his men will erect a simple building close by to house a kitchen for now. It will take some time to repair this, but it will be done. Until then, I will rely on yer help.”

  “Ye will have it,” Helena swore. “’Tis a shame that it happened with the MacDonalds here. Between ye and me, that Breanna—who is no lady, mind ye—will do her best to sour ye. She has had her sights set on Connor for well over a year now.”

  Moira smiled faintly. It was nice to know that she had an unexpected ally. “I had assumed that everyone here would have loved her and wanted her as their mistress.”

  “She puts on a nice act, but the mask drops when servants are around. People tend to forget about us. When she was here a year ago, I nearly caught her sneaking into Connor’s room, no doubt to force a marriage. Luckily, I put a stop to it and made certain that someone was posted outside his door for the rest of her stay. She is a snake.”

  “Well, they are leaving tomorrow, and Breanna is already out of luck. Connor is mine, for better or worse.”

  “Aye. Ye stay strong. We Sinclairs are a stubborn bunch, but we can see the error of our ways.”

  “Ye served his parents.”

  Helena cut a sharp look her way. “Aye, and I will share nothing with ye, so doonae ask. What happened that day was horrible, but Connor is strong. His secrets are his to keep, and if he doesnae want to share them with ye, then I willnae break that confidence.”

  Secrets? What was the woman talking about? It was no secret that Connor lost his parents that day.

  Or had something else happened?

  “Come. We still need to provide breakfast. For now, we are using the small kitchen in that cottage that is to be yers, and we need all hands.”

  After breakfast, of which the guests had thankfully taken in their chambers, Moira, Grace, and Ainsley began cleaning out the soot from the kitchen. They worked silently at first until Ainsley burst into tears.

  “Ainsley!” Grace gasped and dropped her cloth. “Did ye hurt yerself?”

  “Nay, I just fear that history is repeating itself, and I so desperately want Moira to be happy,” Ainsley cried. “I am so sorry. I doonae know why I am so emotional.”

  “Last night was terrifying,” Moira said soothingly
as she embraced her friend. “There is no need for apologies, nor is there any need to fear for me.”

  Ainsley sniffed and wiped her face. “I heard that they were using yer cottage as the makeshift kitchen before the new one is built. Does that mean that ye cannae move in? I thought Connor did beautiful work on it.”

  “Not yet. Connor doesnae want me to move in until things die down. He fears for my safety. Frankly, I think he is overprotective, but for now, I am to stay in the keep.”

  “Good,” Grace grunted. “And ye certainly cannae leave while that horrid Breanna is here. I swore to Connor last year that if he married her, I would never marry, and spend the rest of my life in this keep driving him insane.”

  Moira smirked. “But ye have no plans to marry.”

  “Nay, but I also have no plans to stay here. Thankfully, he resisted.” Grace shuddered. “I hate her.”

  As they continued to work, Grace shared stories of things she’d done to make Breanna’s life difficult while she was there. They were laughing so hard that tears were pouring down their faces when Connor showed up. “Moira,” he said tightly, “I hate to break ye away from this, but I have need to borrow ye for an hour.”

  Clearing her throat, Moira put down her cloth. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

  “Nay, but I promised Breanna a tour to the heather field, and I would like ye to join me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. How could she say no to him? She didn’t want to see the fields, but she also didn’t want Breanna to be alone with Connor.

  In the end, her jealousy won out, and she nodded. “Aye, but I doonae want to be gone long. I doonae want to leave the girls to take care of this mess without me.”

  “It willnae take long.” He reached out his hand, and after some hesitation, she accepted it. Breanna was waiting for them outside and immediately frowned when she saw Moira.

  “I didnae realize that ye were joining us,” she said sharply. “Surely ye have other things to concern yerself with today?”