Some were not as receptive, but no one was outwardly rude, although Moira had a feeling that had more to do with Connor than with herself.
That morning, there was a soft knock on the door. Moira opened it, knowing who was on the other side. Brittania, the woman Connor had hired to act as her lady’s maid, was the most punctual woman she’d ever met. There was real fear lurking in the woman’s eyes, and Moira knew the woman was concerned that with one misstep, she would lose her job. Moira tried to let her know that there was no reason to worry. After all, she enjoyed the woman’s company, but she understood fear. Something had happened in the woman’s past to make her feel as though the ground she walked on wasn’t solid, to make her anxiously wonder if there would be a roof over her head the next day, and all Moira could do was to try and help her acclimate day by day.
“I’m going out again,” she said a little breathlessly as she closed the door behind her. “I was thinking of wearing the Sinclair colors today with the sash.”
Brittania’s eyes widened, and Moira grimaced. “Not a good idea,” she said dejectedly. “All right.”
“I wouldnae want to tell ye what to do, but if ye are asking for my opinion…”
“I am,” Moira said firmly. “Please.”
“The other night, when I was walking to a friend’s, I overheard a group of women talking about ye. Several feel that ye are making real strides with these daily visits, but others feel as though ye are putting on airs and flaunting yer place.”
“Flaunting my place?” Moira leaned against the bed and rubbed her temples. “Sometimes I fear I will never win over the Sinclairs. All right, then the blue dress will be fine. Certainly, no one can say that I’m putting on airs in that.”
Brittania pulled the dress from the wardrobe and frowned. “It has holes in it.”
“Aye, it does.”
After Brittania helped her dress and braid her hair, she looked hesitantly at Moira and clasped her hands tightly together. “Is there something that ye want to ask?” Moira prompted.
“Aye. Yesterday, when I was carrying yer laundry, one of the guards insisted on accompanying me. I tried to put him off, but he wouldnae listen. I didnae want word to get back to ye that I was fraternizing when I should have been working.”
Moira frowned. “What time were ye taking the laundry?”
“’Twas late, ma’am. Helena had me taking on some extra tasks because one of the maids was sick. I couldnae get to yer laundry ’til after dinner.”
“First of all, Brittania, my laundry could have waited until the next day. Please doonae think that ye need to work so late! And if it was dark, then the guard was right to escort ye. I would not think any less of ye if ye had flirted with him.” She paused when Brittania reddened. “Just who was it?”
“Mungo, ma’am.”
“Mungo!” Moira could not hold her disbelief. The large man was always so quiet around her, and his general disposition was to glower, but she knew that this was not the first run-in that he’d had with Brittania.
Could it be that the giant was sweet on her?
“Aye. Is that a problem?”
“No problem at all. Brittania, since ye worked late last night, I insist that ye leave early today. I will not have an overworked maid. I rely on ye too much.” She wanted Brittania to feel as though she was important, and in truth, she was. When Moira moved to the cottage, it would be nice to have someone to help her out.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now then if ye will excuse me, I have some more wooing to do.”
Traveling further than she probably should have, she stopped at one of the outlying villages and came to the small market. Dismounting from Maevis, she stroked her muzzle and tethered her to a trough before she wandered over. “Hello,” she said pleasantly as she looked over the vendors. There appeared to be no exchange of coin, only goods as children and adults alike wandered from stall to stall. She’d seen setups like these along the main roads and close to large keeps but never in small villages.
“Hello,” a young lass answered. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. Her sweet cherubic face glowed with pleasure as she clutched a small wooden doll in her hands. “I’m to get some cabbage for my mum, but I cannae see over the counters.”
“Ah, well I believe I can help with that. What is yer name?”
“Brynne.”
“All right, Brynne. I’m Moira. Let’s see if we can’t find you some cabbage for yer mum.” She took the girl’s hand and carefully led her through the small crowd until she found a stand with cabbage. The young lass was hardly shy, so Moira pulled around an abandoned wood crate that was leaning against the stand and helped Brynne step onto it. The woman with the cabbage had been staring at Moira suspiciously, but she practically beamed with she saw the child.
“There ye are, Brynne. Yer mum said that she was sending ye our way, but I feared ye might have gotten sidetracked.”
“I am too small,” Brynne grumbled. “But my papa says I am still growing so soon I will not need help. Two heads please,” she said as she held out the bag.
“Forgive me, but I am not certain what’s going on here,” Moira said politely. “Ye are not selling the cabbage?”
“Oh, no. There is no need to sell it when we are all in need of items. Miriam came to tell us that water would be scarce this year, so we divided the planting, and this is how we are sharing. ’Tis a shame that she is dead, so we have no way of knowing if we must continue this tradition or not.”
Miriam? “As in the old woman who spoke to ghosts?” Moira asked skeptically.
“Aye.” The woman narrowed her eyes. “Ye be the new Sinclair mistress. What are ye doing so far from the keep?”
“There is some animosity where I am concerned,” Moira explained ruefully. “But I am trying to get to know the Sinclair people and see what needs doing. When is the last time Connor came to visit?”
“Last week. We were in need of some wheat, and he and his men brought a whole wagon full for us. The laird takes care of us.”
Warmth spread inside of Moira, and she smiled. “Aye, he is a good laird, is he not? Is there anything that I should pass along to him? Anything that ye might need in the next coming days?”
“Aye, we could use three new shoes for the horses. Two of them keep throwing them.”
Pleased to be helpful, Moira nodded. “I will let him know.”
By the time she was done, she’d felt as though she’d made real progress. Two weeks ago, when she’d started visiting door-to-door, many people were curt and rude. Most came up with excuses to leave or not let her in. Today, most of them were pleasant and all too happy to accept her help around their homes if they needed it.
The sun was already setting when she walked back to Maevis, and she knew that it would be dark before she got home. Connor would be furious, but today had felt like a breakthrough. Maybe, just maybe, she would win over the Sinclairs after all.
The new storehouse was taking longer than anticipated with construction also being done in the kitchen, but they were both almost finished which meant that next week, he could send the guards out to the villages to gather the surplus of the harvest and send the hunters out as well. He would take more than the villages could part with, but he’d never had a problem with famine. Several of the villages were having to trade creatively, but everyone would be fed.
Wanting to check on the border patrols before he called it a day, he led a small number of guards through the woods to cut through. They were talking among themselves, but he was lost in thought. It had been weeks since the fire, weeks since he’d asked Moira to stay with him until the danger had passed.
Last night, she’d brought up the subject again, this time mentioning that there seemed to be no more danger. His stomach had knotted at the thought of her leaving, but then she’d hit upon another idea.
Why didn’t she stay until she conceived? At least then, it would make things easier on both of them. It was an answer
that he readily grasped. Anything to keep her in his bed for just a little longer. Although she could even now be carrying his child. After all, they took every opportunity to be together. Just how much longer would he be able to hold on to her?
So lost in thought, he didn’t realize the danger until it was almost too late.
The arrow whistled through the air, and Connor immediately threw himself to the ground. “Get down!” he barked to his men. “’Tis an ambush coming from the west.”
As they all sought shelter from behind the trees, he tensed and waited, but nothing else came their way. Silently, he signaled to Mungo to cover him while he went to investigate. Moving from one tree to another, Connor stealthily made his way to the top of the hill. “’Tis safe,” he called to his men as he frowned and knelt down. There was a spot just beneath the tree where the ground had been disturbed. Glancing up, he noted the strong low-hanging branches. It would have taken very little effort for a man to hoist himself up to get a bird’s-eye view. A skilled archer could have taken him out with very little warning, but he had missed.
“’Tis the second time someone has tried to kill ye,” Mungo muttered as he joined him. “And ye are certain…”
“Even one mention that my wife might have done this will result in nightly patrols for a fortnight,” Connor growled. “I am the laird of a powerful clan. I have many enemies.”
Although it was troubling to think that someone had found a way to infiltrate their borders. The last time someone had…
No, damn it, he would not question Moira. There was simply no way that she’d want to kill him. What could she possibly have to gain?
Other than revenge.
“Fan out. Scour the area. I want this person found so I can put these unfounded suspicions about my wife to bed.”
“Aye, Laird.”
“There is something else to consider,” Mungo said quietly. “Ye have thought that someone loyal to yer parents might be taking it poorly that ye have married Moira. If ye died, Alec would have to return.”
“Then they would be wrong. Alec has his own home now, his own clan. The MacKays are his responsibility, and they are his family now. Only orders of the king would force him to abandon them, and I doonae see Alec doing that. Nay, he would choose a Sinclair to take over.”
“Aye, a Sinclair who would charge Moira with yer death or at the vera least exile her. I have warned ye that there are some who wanted to see her put to death seven years ago, and now ye have made her their mistress.”
A sick feeling unfurled inside Connor. He trusted each and every member of his clan and hated to think that they might be capable of such treachery, but the truth was that Mungo wasn’t wrong. He was a popular laird, but his parents had been beloved.
“Surely no one would stoop to murdering me just to place the blame on Moira,” he murmured. “Especially when I have no direct descendent to take over.”
Mungo was quiet for a moment before he nodded. “Aye, perhaps ye are right. The people love ye, and I cannae see any of them murdering ye.”
“Or destroying property. The kitchen fires were deliberately set, and I am never in the kitchens less I am trying to coax some food from our chef. Certainly, everyone knows that I am not there during mealtime. Nay, there is something that I am missing. Something that is right in front of me that I doonae understand.”
They searched for the better part of the afternoon but found no one and nothing to indicate the identity of the shooter. Once again, whoever it was had disappeared.
19
She was not in her chambers. Connor tried not to panic as he stared into the empty room. It was late, and no one had seen Moira all day. Someone had just tried to kill him, again, and Moira was nowhere to be found. What if another mob had set themselves upon her? What if whoever was trying to kill him decided to simply take her instead?
Movement caught his eye, and he whipped his head around as Brittania walked toward him with a bouquet of flowers in her hand. “Laird,” she stammered, and quickly lowered her eyes. “I apologize. I didnae know that ye were here.”
How many times did he need to remind the woman that she didn’t need to apologize every time they crossed paths? “Were ye and Moira out gathering flowers together?” he asked as he worked to keep his voice calm and pleasant.
“No, Laird. She was out visiting today. She asked that I not work so late, but she has been so kind to me, and I thought I would gather some flowers for her since she loves them so much. Please doonae tell her that I was working late. I doonae want her to be angry with me.”
“What do ye mean Moira went out visiting today?” he demanded. “Visiting where?”
“I doonae know sir. She has been at it all week. Determined to win the clan over.”
A cold fear swept through him. He’d seen his wife every night, and she hadn’t said a word about leaving the keep. He’d assumed that Helena had been keeping her busy, or she’d been visiting with Grace and Ainsley. “Alone?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“Aye,” Brittania whispered. “Should I have gone with her?”
“No,” he growled. “Half my army should have gone with her. Ye have no idea where she might have gone?”
The woman shook her head, and he turned with his heart in his throat. He needed to find Moira immediately.
After searching the grounds closest to the keep to no avail, he headed to the cottage, hoping upon hope that maybe Moira had decided to do some work in her future living quarters. It would take all night if he had to search all the outlying villages, but he would do it.
With Gairdh, he thundered toward the cottage, but even as he dismounted, he saw no light coming from the windows or spilling beneath the door. She was not there.
“Moira,” he whispered. “Where are ye?”
“Connor!”
At the sound of her frantic voice, his head whipped around, and he saw a lantern bobbing up and down in the dark as a figure raced toward him. “Connor!”
Wordlessly, he opened his arms and gathered her in a tight hug as she reached him. “Have ye lost yer mind?” he demanded angrily as he held her tightly. “I told ye that ye were not to go anywhere without an escort, and ye have been galavanting all over Sinclair lands alone for a week, and ye didnae tell me!”
“Why are ye yelling at me? I was told someone shot at ye! What are ye doing here? Has a healer seen ye?”
At the sound of her panic, his own fears subsided, and he contented himself to just hold her. “They missed,” he told her gently.
“Come inside.” She pulled away and walked toward the cottage. “I willnae be at ease until I can see ye for myself.”
Smiling in spite of himself, he followed her in. It was the first time he’d seen the cottage since they’d finished all the repairs, and his good mood immediately vanished. She’d been busy turning it into a home. There were flowers on the windowsill and fresh wood in the fireplace.
He reminded himself that they’d been using the kitchen, so perhaps she’d just been decorating it for that reason.
She all but pushed him into the kitchen chair before she illuminated him with the lantern. “Where did it almost hit ye?” she asked with some trepidation.
“Moira, I moved, but even if I hadn’t, the arrow never would have hit me. Their aim was off. It embedded itself in the tree to my left.”
She ran her hands over his shoulder and down his left arm before she slumped next to him by the table. “Connor, I didnae do it. I doonae want ye dead.”
“Sweetheart.” Feeling her pain, he gently pulled her into his lap and kissed her. “It never crossed my mind that ye were responsible. Never. When I could not find ye, I feared that the person after me might have gotten to ye. And no one knew where ye were.”
“I went to the southernmost village, by the border. I hadnae meant to travel that far, but the day was nice, and I wasnae paying attention to where I was leading Maevis, but they were friendly. Suspicious at first, but they did warm
up to me. This is how I can keep ye safe. If the Sinclairs like me, then there is no reason to attack ye. Connor, I doonae know what I would do without ye.”
It was the closest she’d ever come to showing love to him, so he held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. They sat there in silence, the lantern flickering through the darkness, and he reveled in the feel of her.
Looking up at him, she framed his face and smiled. “I willnae stop what I am doing.”
“I know, just as I know that asking ye would be futile, but there will be a guard going with ye, Moira. Just in case.”
“Connor, I am trying to convey the message that I am harmless. How will it look if I arrive with a guard?”
He was about to tell her that his position was not up for debate when she shifted, and he noticed something odd about her dress. It was thin, far thinner than she should be wearing, and the light caught a hard outline at the center of the bodice. Curious, he reached up and touched it. “What is this?”
Her breath caught in a gasp, and she quickly slid off his lap. “Nothing,” she muttered. “Just the design of the dress.”
“Ye are lying to me,” he said.
“’Tis not important.”
Perhaps not, but the fact that she’d lied to him didn’t sit well with him. He continued to stare at her until she spoke a quiet oath and began to unbutton her bodice. “In most of my dresses, the pocket is sewn into the skirt, but the skirt in this dress is so worn that I feared it would not hold it, so I moved the pocket to my bodice.”
When she reached in and pulled it out, a familiar object glinted in the light, and he froze as he stared at it.
The engagement pendant that he’d given to her seven years ago. “Ye still have it.”
“Aye.”
Highlander's Moonlight Seduction (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 13
