Page 20 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
Roderick’s gaze was steady, his intensity unmistakable as his eyes fixed solely on Moira. She noticed how the sun’s golden light danced across his face, and her gaze was drawn to the scar above his right brow. It was particularly exposed at this angle, and the sight of it stirred something within her. Something more than curiosity alone.
“Me laird,” Miss Barclay nodded. “What a pleasure, I was just showin' yer betrothed the rose gardens. They really are beautiful this time o' year, are they nae?”
Roderick’s gaze flickered to Miss Barclay and he smiled politely. “Indeed, thank ye, Miss Barclay, fer keepin' me fiancée company. I’m sure ye’ve kept her well entertained while I’ve been performin' me usual duties this mornin’.”
“It’s me she’s been entertainin’!” Miss Barclay replied with a light laugh, her tone playful as she glanced between them.
“Now, now, Laird Fraser daesnae want me too distracted or entertained, is that nae right, me laird?” Moira asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head slightly to meet his gaze.
Despite this, Roderick’s face remained both serious and still and the realization that something bad might have happened settled heavy across Moira’s chest.
Roderick isnae in the mood fer jokes.
“Miss Barclay, if ye dinnae mind, could I request some time tae talk wi' me betrothed alone? I sorry, fer I ken this is the second time I’ve interrupted ye both.”
“Och heavens, of course!” Miss Barclay replied, as she smoothed her hands over her cloak. “I’ll leave ye tae it, then. Lady Wilson, we’ll finish our walk another time, aye?”
Moira gave a small nod. “I look forward tae it,” she said, before Miss Barclay offered them both a quick smile and excused herself, disappearing down the garden path.
Moira’s brow furrowed as she glanced at Roderick. Once sure that Miss Barclay was out of earshot, she turned her full attention to him, searching his eyes for any hint of what might have soured his mood.
“Ye seem troubled. More troubled than usual. What happened?” Moira said with a softness uncharacteristic of her usual tone.
Why she couldn’t maintain her usual tone with him was a mystery to her. She prided herself in being direct and to the point, it made her efficient and good at her job. But there was something about him that made her want to prove herself and at the same time turned her soft and compliant. She’d been struggling with these feelings ever since she had arrived and still she had no inkling of what caused these conflicts within her.
She spoke quietly, very aware that a maze was not an ideal place to talk, given one could not see whether there were people in the vicinity.
“Nae trouble, I just wanted tae ken if ye'd been makin' any progress?” Roderick asked, his voice low but direct.
“Since last night?” Moira replied, raising a brow.
“Aye.”
“Slowly,” she admitted, her tone steady. “But it’ll take some time, as ye ken. There are only so many hours in the day, Roderick.”
The air between them teetered on the edge of tension as it often did when they were left alone. They stood in silence for a beat, Moira aware that there was something that Roderick was still not saying.
“I ken,” he responded, “but I just had a tricky meetin' this mornin' wi' the Council. They’re puttin' pressure on me regardin' our betrothal.”
“Aye, an’ what kind of pressure is that? Are they needin’ some kind of proof?”
Roderick betrayed his calm demeanor with a subtle smile that proved Moira had hit the mark. She considered and decided that he didn’t need her adding to his frustrations. “I mean, it is normal is it nae, fer a betrothal between two distant clans?”
“Aye it is,” he said. “But the Council’s most likely suspicious wi' the suddenness o' it all, an' the longer we’re betrothed, the harder it'll be tae explain why the engagement’s come to an end. That’s why I ask about the progress o' things, tae ensure nae one finds out about me... dishonesty.”
“Yes, I understand all that quite well,” Moira said, walking further through the rose gardens, deeper into the hidden, more complex parts of the maze. Her voice trailed, and she looked back to Roderick who followed behind her at a steady pace. “But need I remind ye that ye’re the one who asked me here tae investigate yer faither’s death? Ye’re the one who came up wi' this plan fer the two o' us tae be betrothed.”
“I ken,” he said, from behind as Moira turned back.
“So I’m nae sure exactly how it is on me, Roderick, tae speed things up or somehow manage yer Council’s expectations when it is nae me place, nor me Council tae begin wi'.”
Moira spoke with her usual cool detachment, but Roderick continued to unsettle her. Clearly, she was not as adept as she thought at keeping her emotions under control. She knew it was no business of hers to manage the Council and yet she felt the urge to help Roderick, to lighten his load, despite how he constantly inspired her frustrations.
“Ye’re right,” he said. “I agree, it isnae yer Council or yer place tae manage their expectations. Perhaps I hadnae thought everything through afore I asked ye here tae assist wi' the situation. As Laird Fraser, an' a fairly new one at that, I need tae consider me people, an' perhaps I didnae properly account fer the fact that they might have objected.”
“Look, Roderick,” Moira sighed, “If ye want me tae leave, I can go. I’m nae here fer me own fun. Just say the word.”
Roderick remained silent, the only sounds his footsteps crunching behind her.
