Page 15 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
“I appreciate ye sayin’ that,” he said, before picking up his pace and walking ahead. “I kent that I wasnae imagining things.”
They continued to walk, Roderick in front of Moira as she followed closely behind him, her thoughts racing.
Once they were almost at the end of the hall, something pricked at the edges of Moira’s senses and she felt goose bumps rising. It forced Moira to stop in her tracks. There was something about the darkness behind her that felt wrong. She swiveled around, her senses alert, and Roderick, surprised by her movement, turned too. She gestured at him to put out the lantern, which he did.
Her breath hitched as they saw a figure approach the bedchamber behind them from a conjoining hall.
Moving quietly and with a deliberate pace, it was hidden in the shadows, only slightly lit by the moonlight shining through a window.
Roderick exchanged an urgent glance with Moira and just as he was about to charge toward it, she stopped him—pulling him back so they were both pressed against a nearby wall. Thankfully he didn’t protest and followed her lead.
Roderick and Moira breathed heavily, as she stood inches away from him, her hands pressed up against his biceps, and her head at chest height. She felt in control, for once, or he certainly could have overpowered her in seconds.
But for whatever reason, he didn’t move. He stood still, his large chest rising and falling with the intensity of his breath. Their eyes locked onto one another as their breathing synchronized.
Moira raised one finger to her lips, silently urging Roderick to remain still, and he obeyed without a word. They craned their necks toward the end of the hall where the figure stood, and watched intently, frozen in place.
The darkness swallowed the hall ahead, but even in the shadows, there was something unmistakable about the figure's movements. It was deliberate, purposeful, stealthy—like a predator, and it made Moira's stomach twitch. She could feel Roderick’s presence beside her, his muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation, but for now, neither of them moved.
And then, the figure turned and began to move away, fading deeper into the blackened corridors that stretched beyond their view.
Roderick whispered sharply, his brow furrowing. “I would have seen who it was if ye hadnae stopped me from chasin’ after the traitor. Now we’re left wi’ nothin’, nay idea who it was.”
Moira crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing in frustration. “Aye, but if ye had charged in like that, ye might’ve been caught. We need tae be smart about this, Roderick. We’re investigatin’, nae fightin’.”
Roderick clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering momentarily to his father’s chamber where the shadowy figure had stood. “Nay one should be goin’ near me faither’s bedroom, the castle was under strict orders. Moira, I handle things how I handle them. Ye have tae respect that.”
Moira held his gaze, her expression unwavering. “I respect ye, Roderick. But I also ken the danger in actin' out o' anger or fear. If ye charge in blind, ye risk losin' control. We need more than a hasty reaction tae this.”
Moira ran a hand through her hair, trying to shake the anxiety building inside her. If she hadn’t been exhausted before, she was certainly exhausted now. The night had been filled with more tension than she had anticipated.
“Look, I agree,” she conceded, “it would have been useful tae try see who it was—from the shadows. But what’s done is done. Let’s just get some rest.”
Moira heard Roderick exhale sharply, as though releasing his own tensions. “Aye,” he said quietly. “Ye’re right, let’s go. Walk ahead, Moira, so I can watch over ye.”
“That’s nae necessary.”
“Moira,” he said, his voice laced with a certain softness. “Please?”
“I’m fine, Roderick, this isnae me first time in the face o’ danger, ye ken that well.” Moira said, but despite her reluctance, she moved ahead of him without another word.
Both Moira and Roderick continued down the stairs, their footsteps the only sounds. The tension was palpable, and the silent air was still begging for words unspoken. But Moira was tired, and for now, rest was the only thing that was going to give her the strength for whatever came next.
CHAPTER SIX
Roderick awoke the next morning without having truly rested. How could he have? Once he had returned to his chambers, his mind had spiraled as he had continued to go over and over the evening’s events.
Perhaps Moira had been right, not letting him charge at the shadowy figure lurking by his father’s bed chamber– but he couldn’t let go of his frustration. He kept trying to conjure the scene, searching for anything he’d missed, and thus spent the night tossing and turning.
Who was it? What did they look like?
Despite his efforts, he had nothing. Whoever they were, they were certainly adept at hiding away in the shadows, so quiet that he wouldn’t even have heard them coming if it hadn’t been for Moira.
His thoughts went inadvertently back to that brief moment when he had let her press him against the wall. There was something so entrancing about Moira, that he had been compelled to follow her lead.
He recalled her face inches from his, her piercing green eyes like two emeralds burning with fire in the darkness.
As the sun streamed through Roderick’s frost-covered window, casting a warm yellow glow throughout his chamber, Roderick rose wearily and began to prepare for the day ahead.
