Page 43 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
“What is it?” He asked.
Moira moved around the room, appearing to listen carefully as she stomped on different planks of wood. “Can ye hear that difference?” She asked him.
“Nay.”
Roderick continued to watch as Moira moved around testing the wood. Although it was growing dark outside, Roderick waited—intrigued about what she might have found.
“We need some light,” she said, distracted.
“Aye,” Roderick responded, walking toward the scones and lighting them quickly. He found a few blocks of wood by the hearth and chucked them in, setting them alight as well.
“Thank ye,” she said absentmindedly as she lifted up her skirt. Roderick tensed, catching a glimpse of her thigh as she took out a small dagger. He averted his gaze, but the stir in his groin was difficult to ignore.
Moira bent down, using her knife to lift up two of the wooden planks that easily gave way to a small opening below.
“I think we have somethin’, Roderick,” she said.
Roderick cleared his throat, moving toward her as he willed himself to focus on the floor rather than on thoughts of Moira’s thighs.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“What is it?” Roderick asked, hovering over her.
Moira absentmindedly cast her dagger aside, all her attention on the unexpected little hidey-hole they’d just found. The lodge was silent aside from the sounds of their breathing, and she moved her hands slowly beneath the planks, feeling her way around.
“Interestin’,” Moira said, as she grasped hold of three sealed letters. She brought them up for inspection and quickly realized that they all bore the stamp of the laird.
“These letters, I cannae think why they’d be hidden here,” she said thoughtfully as Roderick leaned over to inspect them too.
“An’ they all have me faither’s stamp.”
“Aye,” Moira responded in a softer tone. Noticing the look on Roderick’s face, she knew she had to tread lightly as far as the letters were concerned.
“Here,” she said, “Ye should be the one tae tak’ a look.”
She looked up into his eyes as she passed them to him, and they shared a moment of unspoken communication. She didn’t want him to feel rushed, so she stood up, dusted off her hands, and began to walk toward the fiery hearth.
The wind rattled against the cabin, filling the silence with a low, eerie moan. Moira glanced outside, noticing the cluster of clouds above them, that suddenly erupted in a torrent of rain, sheets of water slashing against the windows.
She paused by the hearth, rubbing her hands together once more, this time as though she was warding off a chill that seemed to seep into the room.
“This is quite a discovery,” Roderick said, as thunder sounded loudly from outside the walls.
Moira glanced over at him from the hearth, noticing how his expression was clouded with confusion and unease. It made her chest tighten, watching him trace his thumb over the stamp of the late laird.
She remained silent and let him have a moment to collect his thoughts.
“They’re sealed tight as though he wouldnae o’ wanted them tae be opened,” he mused.
“The choice is yers, Roderick,” Moira said. “Perhaps ye’d like tae open them somewhere a little more private, an’ I can always leave ye in peace if ye’d like.”
“Nay” he said quickly, his voice firm but with an edge of vulnerability. “There’s nay way that I’d have ye leavin’. But perhaps sittin’ down would be best. ”
She gave a small nod, pushing herself away from the hearth and smoothing her hands over her skirt. “If that’s what ye’d prefer, Roderick.”
He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on the letters in his hand. Finally, he turned and moved toward the bed, the creak of the floorboards under his boots echoing in the quiet lodge. Moira followed, her steps light, her mind racing with questions she didn’t dare voice.
The flicker of the fire cast a faint glow, giving the space a much more muted and intimate feel.
