Page 32 of Highlander's Caged Rose
She had to wash Niall’s scent from her body in case Heather noticed it. It would cause even more gossip and speculation if the servants knew she had a lover, and if they knew it was the Laird, all hell would break loose.
She went to the window and looked at the land around the castle, thinking how sad she would be to leave it, because of Glennie and Niall, of course, but also because it had become home. Moira had never had a proper home before, somewhere where she could relax, think, read to her heart’s content, go out riding and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Hers had always been a prison, sometimes even a torture chamber.
It was only now that she was realising how much had been denied her all these years. She was even envious of the servants, some of whose children lived with them in the castle. Moira wondered what her children with Niall would look like, then tossed the thought out of her mind angrily. Now was no time to be fantasising; she had to organise her few possessions to leave as soon as she could.
The bath arrived a few moments later, and Moira lay back in the scented water trying not to think about Niall, which was almost impossible now that they had been as close as a woman and man could possibly be.
Suddenly, she realised how hungry she was, and asked Heather to go and get breakfast for her.
“I can hear your tummy rumblin’, Mistress,” Heather said, laughing as she opened the door.
She took a few steps along the corridor towards the kitchen, and a man stepped out in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.
It was Gerald McNicholl, and he smiled at her in a friendly fashion before his eyes narrowed, and he asked, “Do you have any news for me?”
“Aye,” Heather answered. “But we have tae talk somewhere else. I cannae be seen wi’ ye.”
McNicholl nodded, and they walked a few steps along the passageway until they reached a small storeroom. He entered and Heather followed him. It was very dark, and she was afraid of this strange old man, but he was paying her for information. Despite what she earned as a maid, she needed more money. The three siblings were fictitious; the truth was that she had an illegitimate child and a drunken father with gambling debts.
Gerald had seen the young woman begging too, and hearing that Glennie had given her employment, saw an opportunity to find out intelligence about Moira after he heard that she was to become her lady’s maid.
“He has taken Moira Jamieson as his mistress,” Heather told him. “I saw him sneakin’ out o’ her chamber this mornin’, an’ when I went in tae see her, there was somethin’ different about her.”
Gerald punched one of his hands into the palm of the other in a gesture of extreme anger. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“There is naethin’ wrong wi’ my eyesight,” Heather snapped. “An’ he looked very pleased wi’ himself.”
Gerald growled and let out a few choice expletives before he asked, “Do you have any other news for me?”
Heather looked doubtful for a moment. “Aye, but I dinnae know the truth o’ it,” she answered.
“Tell me,” Gerald ordered irritably. “I will make up my own mind about the truth.”
Heather sighed. “Well, there is a lot o’ talk in the village,” she said, “about a woman who poisoned her husband then ran away. It is told that her beauty is exceptional; blue eyes, fair skin,and hair. Her husband’s brother, Brody McDonnell, is lookin’ for her. He is a very fierce man, so I am told.”
Gerald’s mind was piecing together all the pieces of the puzzle. Moira Jamieson could very well be Moira McDonnell; he was sure of it. He patted Heather on the back and dropped a half-crown into her hand. It was more money than she could earn in a month.
Her eyes widened. “Thank ye,” she said gratefully.
“Keep up the good work or there will be no more,” he threatened. “Now, if you know anyone who can find Brody McDonnell, I would like to arrange to meet him. Do you think you can find him?”
“It will be easy enough tae find him. He is on a hunt, paying whowever has some intel,” Heather told him. Then, seeing a chance to extort a little more coin, she asked, “But if ye want a meetin’ it will cost ye a crown because that is a lot more work.”
“A crown?” Gerald’s voice was high with indignation, but Heather merely shrugged.
“Unless ye would rather get somebody else tae find him,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Like Laird Niall…”
This was blackmail, Gerald realised. Heather’s source of income would be cut off, but he would lose all hope of keeping his mission secret.
He huffed. “You win,” he grumbled. “As quick as you can, mind.” Then he walked out in the other direction, and went out to go and find himself a whisky. He sorely needed one.
It was imperative for Niall to marry his niece so that he could gain more power and influence, and if Moira was who he thought she was, he knew just how to get what he needed.
When Moira left her chamber, she immediately went to find Glennie. She was unsure of whether to tell her about what had happened between her and Niall, but somehow she thought that Glennie’s sharp intuition would pick it up. Moira smiled at the thought that after such a short acquaintance, Glennie could read her like a book!
Moira made a thorough search of Glennie’s usual haunts, and was just about to give up when a thought occurred to her. She might be in the stables.
She made her way there, studying every detail of the castle as she passed to commit as much of it to memory as she could to store it up for the long lonely days ahead. Memories would be all she would have to console her.
