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

  “Buttons,” she whispered. “Along the front. I think I can get them.”

  She moaned in pain as she tried to lift her arm, and he growled. Gripping the fabric, he pulled and the buttons popped. “Connor!” she gasped.

  There was no way in hell that he was going to listen to her pain while she worked on those buttons, and he was already tempting his control. Gritting his teeth, he draped the shirt over her shoulder and turned. “Change,” he ordered. “I am going to do the same.”

  He’d given her his only other shirt, but he had a pair of breeches. Stripping off his wet shirt and kilt, he changed and wrapped his extra blanket around his shoulders.

  “All right,” she murmured. “Ye can look now.”

  Turning around, his heart lurched. He’d expected her to knot the blanket around her waist, but she had it over her shoulders, leaving half her calf down to her feet bare. She looked so vulnerable and scared. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it was going to be fine.

  “Sit down by the fire,” he said as he gathered her clothes and spread them out to dry. After pulling out some bread from his pack, he broke it and handed her half. While she ate, he pulled out a cloth and walked toward her. “How did ye injure yer head?” he asked as he parted her hair.

  “A tree branch fell on me. Connor, ye doonae have to do this.”

  “Quit squirming, I need to see the wound,” he commanded. She already had a large knot on her head, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped. After cleaning up the dried blood, he tugged down the blanket so he could take her arm. She tried to shy away, and he growled. “Easy, lass. I just want to see yer shoulder.”

  “’Tis fine. I fell on it, but nothing feels broken.”

  No, and it wasn’t popped out of place either. Satisfied, he tossed the blanket over her shoulder and moved away from her. If he could, he’d move to the opposite side of the cave, but he feared even that distance wouldn’t stop the need stirring in his body.

  “Explain to me what the hell ye were doing out here. Do I terrify ye so that ye needed to run from me? To risk yer life?” he asked, falling back on his anger to hide his need.

  Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. “Ye think I did this because of ye? I see that nothing has changed with yer ego, Connor Sinclair. I will have ye know that I have been planning this trip for months!”

  “And just where do ye think ye are going?”

  “’Tis none of yer business!”

  “The fact that I found ye unconscious beneath a tree makes it my business.”

  “Nay, it does not! The whole reason for this trip was because I was getting away from ye! Away from yer horrid accusations and that wretched day! My mother died from sickness, and still, there were whispers that it was by my hand because I was a killer. My father and brothers died on the other side of the mountains, and people wondered if I had arranged it. If I married and my husband became laird, it would never stop!” Her anger and desperation echoed off the cave walls, and she held her hands up against her chest as she started to rock. “The Hamiltons are still my people, and I couldnae leave until I knew that their future was secure, and now it is. I can leave, adopt a new name, and live out my life somewhere else. All I require is a cottage of my own, a goat, and some chickens. Land for me to grow my herbs and vegetables and beautiful flowers.”

  It was hard to deal with her physical pain, but her anguish pierced his soul. “Ye thought Dunlop would take ye?”

  “He has no alliance with us nor has he had a feud. He would not recognize me. I see no reason that he would deny me a place in one of his outlying villages.”

  “Moira. Still so innocent,” he murmured. “Ye are a great beauty. Dunlop would take ye in, but he would expect ye to marry. Would ye keep yer secrets from yer husband?”

  “He wouldnae force me to marry.”

  “He would try, and he may make it a condition for granting ye land.”

  Stubbornly, she bit into the bread and glared at him. “Then I will go somewhere else.”

  How could she not see that most men wouldn’t value her for more than her young womb and pretty face? It was no world for a woman to be alone.

  “Finish eating and get some sleep. The storm should break soon, and we will leave at first light.”

  “I have made my decision, Connor. While I am thankful that ye rescued me, I owe ye nothing, and I willnae go with ye. Ye can return to my uncle and tell him that I am searching for my sanctuary.”

  There was no point in arguing with her. She was exhausted and hurting, and he knew all too well how she could dig her heels in. Instead, he watched her quietly as she finished eating and settled down on the roll. Struggling, she tried to arrange the blanket around her, but she winced whenever her shoulder moved.

  When she was asleep, he crossed the cave and spread the blanket out further, tucking her in. Her skin was flush with warmth. Satisfied, he moved back over to his side and stayed diligent through the night.

  The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the silence in the cave. Pushing the blanket back, she sat up and gasped. No Connor and no horses.

  He’d abandoned her.

  “No, no! Connor!” Rushing to her feet, she winced at the pain in her knee, but it was far more manageable than last night. “Connor!”

  She rushed to the entrance of the cave just as he stepped out from behind his horse. Seeing Maevis calmly munching on the grass, she sighed in relief. “Ye didnae leave me.”

  “Moira,” he started.

  “I know what ye are going to say,” she interrupted. “But ye have to understand that there is nothing for me to return to.”

  “Actually—”

  “If ye take me back, then I will just run again. There must be somewhere for me to find my freedom, and I will search every inch of these mountains until I find it. I will settle in the Lowlands. I will travel to bloody England if I need to!”

  “Moira, ye are half-naked!” he bellowed.

  Blinking, she stared down and flushed. Without the blanket, she wore only his shirt which covered her to mid-thigh. “Oh.”

  “Yer dress is dry. I suggest ye change, and then we can talk.”

  He sounded suspiciously amiable. Did that mean he was not going to take her back to Hamilton? Ducking back into the cave, she quickly stripped off the shirt. It was awkward, but she trusted that Connor wouldn’t come in until she was ready.

  The shift was ruined, so she left it off and stepped back into the dress, buttoning it up. Her shoulder still hurt, but she’d be damned if she asked him for help again. She could still remember the feeling of his knuckles pushing along her body.

  Stepping back outside, she took in the morning sun and breathed in deeply. Last night had been terrifying, but the morning was beautiful.

  And so was the man waiting for her.

  “Yer knee looks better but is still bruised. How does it feel?” he asked.

  The fact that he’d even seen her knee caused her to flush. “Twinges a bit, but I should be able to walk fine.”

  “And yer shoulder?”

  “Same.”

  “Good. I have no more food, but we’ll stop at the inn a few hours from here and get some breakfast. Before we go, we need to discuss something.” His expression hardened just a little. “I willnae allow ye to roam freely about the clans looking for a place to stay. ’Tis not safe. I will escort ye, but ye have no chaperone, and while ye think ye won’t be recognized, I will.”

  “I amnae worried about my reputation. I doonae want to be married, remember?” she pointed out.

  “Ye may not care about yer reputation, but I care, and I care about mine, Moira. I willnae have people talking about me stashing away some strange woman to another clan.”

  Just what was he getting at? Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “Then what do ye propose?”

  “Like it or not, ye and I entered an agreement seven years ago with the backing of our parents. The king is pressuring me to marry, and while I
want an heir, I doonae have time for a wife.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Connor, what exactly are ye saying?”

  “Ye want a small cottage, surrounded by yer flowers. I will give that to ye, and freedom within our marriage.”

  “In exchange for an heir?”

  “Not in exchange, Moira. I am hoping for an heir, but I willnae punish ye if ye doonae conceive a son. I would like us to try. Ye will spend yer nights with me, and ye can spend yer days how ye like.”

  Marriage. To Connor. For a moment, she feared that she would faint. “There was a time that ye didnae trust me.”

  “Aye, and for my actions that day, I have much to make up for. I am hoping that this will be a start.”

  “Do ye trust me now?”

  “One of the men we captured finally talked. They admitted that they were provided with the Hamilton colors and paid to point the finger at ye,” he said finally.

  That was not an answer. It was what she’d heard years ago when her father explained Connor’s apology to her. “I want a yes or a no, Connor. Do ye trust me?”

  “I doonae believe that ye had a hand in the death of my parents, but being laird has made me see the world differently, Moira. I doonae know that I trust anyone outside my brother and sister.”

  Her stomach tightened in disappointment, and she considered her options. He’d made some good points last night, and she wasn’t prepared to travel for long periods of time searching for her freedom. Connor might not trust her, and she wasn’t sure that she trusted him. If he said that he would leave her days to her, then she wanted to believe him. “And if yer clan treats me no better than my own did?”

  “There will be consequences if anyone harms ye, Moira. Ye have my word,” he promised her.

  “How do I know that if some other clan attacks ye, ye willnae blame me and throw me out again?” She needed desperately to know that if she made a home on his land, then she could keep it. It was exhausting, always worrying about the future. She just wanted some peace.

  “Ye have my word, Moira Hamilton, that if ye consent to be my wife—again—that I will never judge ye without evidence, and I will never turn ye out.”

  It wasn’t as romantic as his first proposal, but then, she didn’t want romance anymore. She just wanted some security. “Aye, Connor Sinclair. For a cottage of my own and security in my future, I will marry ye and do my best to give ye an heir.”

  Nodding curtly, he took Maevis’s reins and walked the mare to her. “Vera well. Let us get ye fed.”

  It wasn’t exactly a betrothal gift, but it would do for now.

  4

  They arrived at the keep several hours after dark. Connor wanted Moira to have a bath and a decent night’s sleep before they faced the morrow and his sister.

  At the entrance to the keep, he dismounted and helped her off her mare. He wanted to reach for her, to take her hand and squeeze it, to wipe the worried look from her face and let her know that everything was going to be fine. But for the entire day, he’d barely been able to speak to her.

  Part of him couldn’t believe she’d agreed to be his wife. He’d spent all night thinking about it. He couldn’t stand the idea of her marrying anyone else, nor did he think he’d find any peace of mind knowing that she was all alone searching for her happiness. Connor had the means to give her everything that she wanted.

  And he needed to pay penance for what he’d done to her. Just being around her was torture.

  “Ye will stay in the chambers adjacent to mine,” he said gruffly in a low voice. “I will have a bath drawn for ye. Ye may sleep as late as ye would like in the morn.”

  “All right.” Her gaze slid past him to the door behind him, and she didn’t move.

  “Moira.”

  Blinking, she smiled wanly and pushed back the hood of her cloak. “Sorry. I am nearly dead on my feet. A bath would be wonderful.”

  Connor had no idea what was going on inside of her head, but it was clear that she was having doubts about being there. He knew there had to be good memories. He was assaulted by them. The sunshine glistening along the golden locks of her hair. Splashing playfully in the creek as they challenged each other to cross the rocks. The teasing smiles across the dinner table from a private joke that they’d shared.

  She had to remember those moments. He needed her to see this space as something other than the horrible day that he’d banished her and tossed her out to fend for herself alone. They were more than that moment he’d looked at her and saw the worst.

  “Come.” Careful not to tug on her injured shoulder, he guided her into the keep and stopped to give instructions to the guards at the gate. They nodded, and he knew that soon, there would be two baths waiting for them.

  The chambers next to his were meant for the mistress of the keep, of which his mother had never occupied. She and his father were deeply in love, and they shared the laird’s chambers. He’d always assumed that he and his wife would do the same.

  Now he had a wife who wouldn’t even be under the same roof as him. A cottage on the outskirts of the village. Disgusted with himself, he shook his head. What had he been thinking, offering her a deal like that?

  “The guards will be here soon to fill the tub. I can send one of the maids to the kitchens if ye want something to eat.” They had skipped dinner.

  Looking around the room, Moira put a hand on her stomach and shook her head. “Nay. I believe a bath will be all that I need.”

  She was too nervous to eat, and he had a feeling the longer he stayed, the more nervous she would become. “If ye need anything, just knock on the adjoining door.” He tucked his hands behind his back so he wasn’t tempted to embrace her. “I will see ye in the morn.”

  After leaving her, he wanted to check in with his night patrol, but he didn’t want to be far from Moira, so he relaxed in his chambers until his bath was ready. After stripping off his clothes, he eased into the water and sighed.

  Was Moira already in her bath, the warm water touching her naked skin, comforting her when he could not?

  Am I jealous of bathwater now?

  Clean and more relaxed, he listened at the door, but Moira’s chambers were quiet and dark. Pleased that she’d retired, he turned in for the night and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

  “Is it true?” a shrill voice demanded. Curtains were yanked back from the windows and sunlight flooded into the room. Groaning, Connor grabbed his pillow and threw it toward his sister’s general direction. It could not have been more than a couple of hours since he’d closed his eyes. How did she get into his room? He kept demanding her to return the key, and she somehow kept finding another.

  “Lower yer voice,” he demanded. He wanted Moira to catch up on her sleep, and if Grace kept yelling at him, she would wake the whole village.

  “Ye tell me the truth right now. Did ye smuggle Moira Hamilton into the keep last night and install her into the mistress chambers?”

  “Lower. Yer. Voice,” he commanded. Glaring at him, she slumped into the chair next to his bed and pouted. Grace had two modes. The first was the bratty younger sister that she had perfected from the moment she’d curled her finger around Connor’s. The second was the warrior Grace, which she had yet to perfect but continued to train. Both sides of her drove him to drink.

  Unlike the dark hair that he and his brother sported, Grace was the spitting image of their mother. Blonde, dainty, light blue eyes that almost looked grey in the sun, and a willowy figure. She was a beauty. Everyone said so, and then in the very next breath said it was a shame she was such a hellion.

  “So? Do ye plan to make her yer mistress?” she demanded.

  At least she wasn’t yelling anymore. “Mistress of the keep, Grace.” He sighed as he pushed back the blanket and sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “Not my mistress.”

  “So ye intend to marry her? Without speaking to me or Alec? Or did ye tell Alec? Did ye know that ye were going to bring her back after ye travel
ed to Hamilton? Am I the last to know?”

  “No, Grace. I did not deliberately make this decision without telling ye. I proposed to Moira last night, alone. She is hell-bent on nearly killing herself to find her happiness, and I willnae allow that.”

  Grace blinked. “What are ye talking about? Why were ye alone with Moira last night?”

  Sleep-deprived. Hungry. He was in no mood to spend the morning explaining his actions to his sister. “Look, like it or not, I have been betrothed to Moira for years. It just so happens that now I have decided to honor it. Our accusations ruined her life, Grace.”

  His sister’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he remembered just how innocent she was. She and Moira had been good friends, and when the initial pain had subsided, she’d felt immense guilt for pointing the finger at Grace without proof. She and Moira had been like sisters. There were two other girls visiting the clan that summer, and the four of them had been terrifying together.

  “I wrote her a letter,” Grace whispered. “Several, in fact. I never told ye, but I just wanted her to know that I was so sorry. She never wrote back.”

  “’Tis all right, Grace. I knew about the letters, and I doonae know why she didnae write back, but this is our chance to make things right. When I exiled the young lass, it apparently took her two weeks to find her way home. By the time she got there, she was so terrified she couldnae speak. Most of her clan still thinks that she’s responsible. She’s been miserable, and all she wants is a quiet life where she can be left alone. I have promised her a cottage of her own, relinquished her from the duties of the keep, and in return, we will wed, and we will try for an heir.”

  Her eyes widened. “A cottage? Ye willnae even live together? Connor, that is not how a wife and a husband should be!”

  “That was not how our parents were,” he reminded her. “But most couples doonae marry for love. ’Tis not unusual for a man in my position to marry for an heir. We will both be happy.”