Highlander's Moonlight Seduction (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Read online

  “Ah, Moira.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Ye knew that I was going to do this, didn’t ye?”

  “No, but I am no fool. For the past six months, everyone has expected for ye to propose and me to accept. I didnae know what ye would do. In truth, I didnae think ye would ask now that yer position is secure.”

  “Ye already had an answer prepared.”

  “It would be a lie if I said that I hadnae thought it. As far as my choice of husband, ye were at the top of my list.”

  “But ye doonae want to marry.” He sighed and dropped her hand. “Well, I will honor yer wish, and ye will always have a home here, whether ye fall in love or not.”

  But not at the keep. As soon as Moira decided that she would never marry, she knew that she would have to give up her home. At most, Tyree would remain laird for six more months while he transitioned Hamish into the position. Then, Hamish would marry, and the new mistress of the keep would want Moira out.

  It broke her heart a little, but she was ready for the next step.

  “Hamish, ye should return to the party. There are other lovely lasses waiting to dance with ye. I need to rest my feet a little longer,” she said as she stepped away and indicated with her head for him to leave. The fact that he did so with little more than a faint expression of disappointment told her that she’d made the right decision.

  She and Hamish would be fond of each other, but they would never love each other.

  She put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. Over the last few years, she’d received a myriad of proposals. Most were tense and abrupt. Some were lavish and over the top. A few were more threats than proposals. Hamish’s was by far the most genuine and sweetest of the recent bunch, and it broke her heart a little to turn it down. It was probably her last chance at finding happiness with a man.

  But she’d chosen a long time ago to be alone. She couldn’t back out now.

  “I do believe ye broke his heart,” a familiar voice said from the shadows. “I hear that ye have been breaking hearts for a while now.”

  There was no movement, and she turned her head. Faintly, in the dark, she could see the outline of a figure. Connor had witnessed the whole thing.

  “’Tis rude to eavesdrop,” she said coldly. “And even ruder to comment on a personal matter.”

  “Ye think that I doonae have the right to comment when a man proposes to a woman who already promised herself to me?” Connor stepped out of the shadows, his face still as unreadable as during dinner. Her mouth dried, and she had no choice but to acknowledge how her body reacted to him. What she’d felt for him as a girl—the flutters in her stomach, the flush of her cheeks, the giddiness in her chest—was nothing compared to the mix of emotions that swirled inside her now.

  Fury. Desire. Sorrow. Pain.

  “That promise was broken when ye exiled me from yer lands,” she reminded him stiffly. There was too much still to do tonight, but this would be her one and only chance to confront him for what he did to her, and she suddenly found that she didn’t want to give that up.

  “I have apologized for that and done my best to make reparations with yer family. I would have done the same for ye, but ye are always conveniently absent during those meetings.”

  “I have been vera busy searching for a husband,” she told him coolly. “And two years is an awfully long time to wait to apologize.”

  “I was still investigating the matter.”

  “Aye, and ye expect me to wait for ye while ye spent two years believing that I orchestrated the murder of yer parents?”

  “Moira…”

  “I amnae the same girl who accepted yer proposal, Connor, and ye arenae the same man.”

  “Still, neither of us have formally broken our engagement.”

  She glared at him. Was he truly standing here after everything that’s happened and attempting to uphold their betrothal? “Then allow me to formally inform ye that I would rather throw myself from the top of the highest peak than to wed myself to ye, Connor Sinclair,” she hissed. “And ye are more than welcome to bring the matter up with my uncle. He will never uphold an agreement that he neither witnessed nor was privy to at the time.”

  The silence grew thick between them as he continued to watch her with that quiet unwavering stare. “Acknowledge me, Connor,” she whispered. “Acknowledge that ye understand what I have said.”

  He didn’t, and her stomach twisted. She was not going to stand there and let him give her hope that there was something still between them.

  “Good night, Connor,” she said stiffly. “I willnae be seeing ye again.”

  He didn’t move a muscle, and she was grateful for the darkness to hide the tears gathering in her eyes. She’d thought she’d grown immune to him, but all it did was serve to remind her of the hollow pit inside of her.

  “Doesnae matter,” she told herself fiercely as she hurried along the edge of the festivities and headed to her chambers. Inside waited the bag that she had packed days ago. In the stables, her faithful mare waited for her. “Tonight, ye are a free woman.”

  And tomorrow, she would never again have to face anyone who knew of the horrors of her past.

  2

  Connor didn’t know how much time had passed while he stood in the darkness after Moira had left. Seeing her again had been a dagger to the heart, and he should have left well enough alone. It had been a mistake to go there. He could have sent any of his guards in his stead, but Grace had been driving him insane, so it was a welcome trip.

  Until he saw Moira. The pain in her eyes had gutted him, and he’d had every intention of leaving her alone. It wasn’t his fault the Hero of Hamilton had decided to propose to her right in front of him.

  For one horrible moment, he thought she was going to say yes. He pictured putting a fist through the heir’s face, which would have done wonders for the tentative treaty between their clans. But then she’d turned him down, in that gentle and sweet way that reminded him so much of the young girl he’d pledged his life to.

  Now that young girl was a woman who would rather end her life than marry him.

  “Most men are still sleeping off their drink,” Tyree said casually as he joined him the next morning. “And yet here ye are, wandering about in the chill.”

  “Checking on Gairdh,” Connor grunted. He had a healthy respect for the older man who shouldered the responsibility of taking on the fractured Hamilton clan. Their feud with the MacGregors had left them broken, and when Moira’s father lost her mother, rumors were that he went a little insane. Moira’s older brothers had tried to take over, and Connor knew there were rumors about what really happened in that rock slide. Had the father killed the sons who’d tried to knock him out of power? Had the sons tried to kill the father and trapped themselves as well?

  Tyree voiced his unhappiness with his new role, but he’d pulled the clan back together, and he’d made an excellent choice in heirs.

  “I’ve heard stories about yer stallion. Some say that he has the strength of a hundred men.”

  “I have heard the rumors.”

  “A gift from the old gods.”

  “Heard that as well.”

  A smile curved over the older man’s lips. “Ye know, I doonae want to like ye, Connor.”

  “’Tis all right. Ye doonae have to like me.”

  “We have never spoken man to man about what ye did to Moira. I thought my brother did, but before his death, he said that he was more worried about peace. He doted on and loved his daughter, but even he thought she’d betrayed ye and betrayed us as well. I reckon that ye have no idea how yer accusations impacted that lass.”

  Connor’s stride didn’t even falter as they neared the stables. He’d made his apologies, and he wouldn’t make them again.

  “She still doesnae talk about the two weeks it took her to walk from yer lands to ours, but when she arrived, she was a horrifying sight.”

  At that, Connor froze. “Two weeks?” he demanded. “’T
is two days’ ride.”

  “Aye, but she was too scared to take a horse.”

  A knot hardened inside of him. “Still shouldnae have taken her more than a week to walk.” A week with no provisions or protections from the weather. She must have been terrified.

  “I know,” Tyree said softly. There was a dangerous edge in his voice. “For a month, she was too afraid to even leave her chambers. I want ye to tell me right now, Connor, tell me that ye lied to us about when ye exiled Moira. Tell me that she didnae truly spend two weeks out there on her own, facing who knows what kinds of dangers.”

  It only took a few hours after Connor had exiled her to want to send someone after her, to make sure that nothing had happened to her, but then his own hands were tied. It was a week before he could send word to anyone about what had happened. When the message returned from the Hamiltons, denying their involvement, and they hadn’t mentioned Moira, he’d assumed she had gotten there safe and sound.

  “I didnae lie,” he said finally. “Do ye think…”

  “I doonae know what happened to her. It took nearly a year before I recognized the girl that was my niece, but by then, the clan had their own ideas about what happened to her. Some think she hired men to murder yer parents for ye, so ye could become laird. Others think that the attack was because ye had a lover’s quarrel. She hasnae made any friends. She has lived a solitary life, and I doonae think she ever considered a husband.”

  “I cannae change the past,” Connor snapped as he turned and marched to the stables. “I have apologized to yer clan for my actions, and I cannae do anything else.”

  Tyree followed him into the stables. “I know ye spoke to her last night. I saw the tears when she slipped back into the keep. What did ye say to her?”

  A young boy was brushing down one of the horses, and he bowed his head at Tyree. “Morni’ Laird. Sir.”

  “Lad.” Tyree patted him on the head and turned back to Connor before he frowned. “Lad, where is Maevis?”

  “With Miss Moira.”

  “Moira took Maevis out this morning?” The Hamilton laird furrowed his brow. “’Tis not like her to be up this early.”

  “Nay, not this morning. She left afore dawn. I saw her myself when I was coming back from doing my business. She had saddle packs.”

  “What?” Tyree whirled and glared at Connor. “Ye tell me what ye said to her right now, or I swear I will get my sword and run ye through.”

  “I said nothing to her to make her run,” Connor swore. “I witnessed Hamish’s proposal, and…”

  “And?” Tyree prompted.

  “I may have reminded her that we still had not ended our engagement.”

  “Ye did what?”

  “Doonae worry. She made it clear that she would never marry me. I didnae push her. I am not the reason that she ran.” At least, that is what he tried to make himself believe. Now all he could think about were the horrors that she could encounter traveling alone. “I will go after her.”

  “I will gather some men…”

  “I will travel faster alone. On my honor, I will return her to ye.” Connor held out his hand. “There was a time when she meant the world to me. Even when I thought the worst of her, I couldnae see her harmed.”

  After some hesitation, Tyree clasped his hand. “She may have meant the world to ye then, but she means everything to me now. I am putting my trust in ye, lad.”

  “Which direction was she traveling in?” Connor demanded.

  The young groom had watched the whole exchange with wide eyes. “West, sir. Toward Dunlop’s land.”

  There were a number of inns between here and Dunlop. Moira might have decided that it would be safer for her to get a room, but those inns might be no safer than sleeping in the woods. He needed to reach her by nightfall.

  Saddling Gairdh, he accepted one of the go-packs the groom had on hand, and he took off in a gallop, every nerve in his body terrified that Moira had run because of him, and was running straight to her death.

  By noon, Moira was debating whether to turn back. The winds were picking up, and the skies were turning dark. She hadn’t seen the sun in hours. The birds were quiet—too quiet. A storm was coming.

  She was moving at a slow pace, sticking to the woods but walking parallel to the main road. Maevis could run like the wind, but Moira wanted stealth. If trouble couldn’t hear her, then it wouldn’t strike.

  Of course, she hadn’t expected trouble in the form of a storm. If she didn’t find shelter before it hit, she would be caught right in the middle of it.

  “All right, Maevis. We need to make up more time,” she murmured to her mare. Urging her onto the main road, she kicked the horse into a canter and scanned the horizon carefully. She remembered all too well the kind of problems that she could find.

  At the thought of her terrifying two weeks, bile rose in her throat, but she’d learned long ago to stifle it. She knew that this trip would bring up bad memories, but she was determined to see it through. Just a few more days and she could begin a new life.

  She’d just reached the end of the Hamilton lands when the first bolt of lightning streaked the sky and thunder boomed. Maevis jerked, reared, and Moira went flying.

  Her shoulder hit the ground first, and pain seared through her body. In the haze of pain, she saw Maevis tearing off into the woods.

  “No!” Her clothing, food, and coin were attached to that horse. Palms stinging, she pushed herself up. “Maevis, come back!”

  Her pleas were drowned out by another rumble of thunder. The storm was nearly right on top of them. If she didn’t get to her horse soon, then she’d be stranded.

  Her knee hurt, but she could still move. Cradling her arm, she dashed into the woods after her horse. Maevis was loyal to her, and if she could just hear Moira calling to her, then she would come.

  She’d just taken a few steps into the woods when the skies opened up, and Moira closed her eyes. “Oh, of course. Ye couldnae give me one break, could ye? Maevis! Maevis!”

  Following the path of broken branches, she hobbled as quickly as she could. The skies darkened as night drew near, and she was soon soaked to the bone and shivering. Her skin was icy, and she was losing feeling in her extremities. “Maevis, where are ye? Maevis!”

  When she could go no further, she stopped and leaned against a tree trunk. She fiercely made all kinds of promises to whoever might be listening. She’d learned her lesson. She would never travel again.

  As the wind continued to whip through, she heard the crack of a branch. Looking up, she saw it falling toward her, and then there was nothing.

  3

  At first glance, Connor thought she was dead. Terrified, he dismounted, tied his own horse—and the mare he’d found racing in his direction—to the tree, and hurried toward her. There was a trickle of blood on the side of her head, but her chest was rising up and down. Relief swept through him, and he leaned down and gathered her in his arms. She was soaked and freezing.

  “I have ye now, lass,” he murmured as he carried her to Gairdh and settled her across his saddle. He needed to find them shelter so he could get her warm and dry as soon as possible. The inn was still several hours away, but there were caves that tunneled along the mountains by the creek bed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would suit to wait out the storm.

  Thankfully, he found one large enough for the two of them and the horses. Gairdh didn’t get along with many horses, but he was calm around Maevis which was good because the mare was anything but. After he built a fire at the entrance to warm up the space, he laid out his bedroll and gently pulled Moira back into his arms.

  “What?” she murmured as she shifted. When she caught sight of him, her eyelids flew open. “No. No, doonae touch me!”

  “Moira, ’tis me,” he said as he stood her up. He didn’t want to release her until she felt safe, but he’d seen the swelling of her knee and feared she’d fall. “’Tis Connor. I willnae hurt ye, lass.”

  “Connor.” The initial
panic fled but was instantly replaced with distrust. “What are ye doing here?”

  “Looking for ye. Yer uncle was none too pleased to discover yer horse missing. I was with him. I promised to bring ye home safe.”

  “I left him a note. I have no intention of returning.” She glanced around the dark space and shuddered. “Where are we?”

  “A cave along the creek. A long time ago, caves here were used as smuggling holes when the creek was a river, but as the water dried up, so did the smuggling business, at least on this side of the mountain. We will wait out the storm and then get ye to a healer in the morning. First, we need to get ye warm and dry.” He hesitated. “Ye will need to take off those wet clothes.”

  He thought she would balk, but she just nodded. “Please turn yer back.”

  “I checked yer items. The flap came loose, and yer other clothes are wet as well. I have an extra shirt, and ye can cover the rest with the blanket,” he said as he turned and headed to Gairdh.

  After a moment, he heard her frustration. “Moira?” He didn’t dare turn around early.

  “I have injured my shoulder, and I cannae reach the buttons.”

  When he turned, she had her back to him, but he didn’t need to see her face to hear the embarrassment in her voice. Without a word, he approached her and reached for her buttons with trembling fingers. Because he hadn’t seen her for so long, he had no idea how his body would react to her, and he was not pleased to discover that she heated his blood and stirred his body. Damn it though, she is scared and injured, and she hates me.

  He was no monster.

  Working as quickly as possible, he undid her buttons until her dress loosened around her shoulders. “Yer shift?” His tongue was thick, and he could barely get the words out. There were no buttons along the back. Maybe ribbons.