Page 8 of Highlander's Caged Rose
Moira’s mouth watered. She loved venison, and it was a very long time since she had eaten it. “I would love to,” she said, smiling, although her plans had been ruined, and she would have to wait another day to escape. Still, the venison was a tiny consolation, and one more day was not long to wait,
“Good,” Glennie patted her on the shoulder. “Now, excuse me. I must go and change.”
Moira’s eyes followed Glennie for a moment, then she went on her way. Now that Moira had found her horse, she could carry out her plan of escape. It should be easy enough to leave, she thought; after all, she was not a prisoner. No, she was not imprisoned, but she was lost.
Moira had not intended to turn back to her room, so she had not made a mental note of her route. She was so busy concentrating on this that she ended up straying into the courtyard, where she saw the Laird and a guard, engaged in some more combat practice. However, this time they were notfighting with swords, but with their hands in a bare-fisted match which seemed would not end until one of them was lying on the floor.
Both men were naked to the waist, however, and Moira was mesmerised by them. Sandie had told her what the Captain of the Guard looked like. Now, she was seeing for herself. He was a wiry but strong man, and although he was a few inches shorter than the Laird, he was still holding his own.
However, Moira was astonished by Niall McPhee’s sheer size. Without clothes, he looked even bigger, and his clenched fists resembled clubs. She shuddered, thinking of her father and her husband. Neither of them was particularly tall or well-built, but they had both managed to do her body a great deal of damage, as evidenced by the scars she bore all over her torso and legs.
Both had been very clever, though, having kept their blows from landing on any part of her that was visible. Moira had always been obliged to wear high-necked dresses to keep her injuries hidden.
Nevertheless, despite her apprehension, Moira could not help but admire the physique of the beautiful man before her, his broad shoulders, narrow hips, flat stomach and powerful muscles. He also sported quite a few scars though, some of them quite large, especially those on his arms, which looked like sword slashes. He must have been a fierce warrior!
Every part of his masculinity called out to her femininity, and Moira felt herself fighting against her weakness, even though what she was feeling was healthy and natural.
If only my life had been different,she thought,I might have been happily married to a good man. I might have been happy now, not fleeing a murder charge…
She stood looking at the two fighters but not really seeing them because she was immersed in her thoughts. However, her attention was wrenched back to them when a loud cheererupted, and she saw Niall lying on the ground, having just been knocked over by his captain.
He was laughing and had his hands raised in the air, and as Moira watched, Niall got to his feet, laughing. “My turn next time, Finn!” he announced as he looked around at his audience. There was no animosity in his tone. In fact, it looked as though the two men had been playing a game.
Suddenly ,Niall caught Moira’s eye, and although she tried to turn and walk away, he called her name and came to stand in front of her.
He felt somewhat embarrassed, since he was bare-chested and sweating, and this beautiful woman, who was still a virtual stranger to him, was seeing him at his worst in this dirty, dishevelled state. However, he could not tear himself away from her; she was lovely, and quite unlike any woman he had met before.
Niall looked down at her slightly parted lips. He had kissed many women, and he longed to kiss this one because he had a feeling that it would be a sensual experience the likes of which he had never felt before.
Not only was Moira fascinatingly beautiful, but there was an aura about her that was almost ethereal, as if she did not quite belong on earth. Niall knew he was being fanciful, but he had seen the way the other men looked at Moira, and it seemed they all felt the same.
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently. “Are you still in pain?”
“Much better, My Laird,” she replied. “My leg is still a little sore, but nowhere near as bad as it was when you rescued me. I am so grateful to you. Your healer is a wonderful lady and I could not have asked for better care.”
“I am glad to have been able to help,” he replied. “Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me. Come with me.”
Niall collected his shirt and put it on, then led her up a tall staircase and into a room that could only have been his study. It was a very masculine room that had an enormous desk and was lined with books on two walls. There were no paintings on the walls, and the rugs on the floor were made of plain brown wool.
Everything was as plain and utilitarian as it could be. Moira felt a little disappointed, but she supposed that since most of the work of running the Baltyre estate was done here, there should be as few distractions as possible.
He poured two glasses of wine, then handed one to Moira. She sipped it slowly, since she was not at all fond of it, but was too polite to say so.
Niall noticed Moira’s hesitation and asked, “Is the wine not to your liking?”
Moira shook her head. “It’s not this wine,” she answered, “but wine in general. I have seen too many people’s lives ruined by it.”
“What would you like then?” he asked.
Moira looked genuinely distressed, and he had no wish to upset her further, since he needed to speak to her quite urgently.
Moira hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, “A glass of milk, please.” She knew that Niall would likely think her very stupid, but she wanted to be completely sober and sensible when she made her escape.
If Niall was surprised, he did not show it, but sent for the milk at once. While they were waiting for it to arrive, he walked over to the window and looked out at the storm, which was gathering in the distance.
He closed the shutters and went to stoke the fire so that he would not have to speak to Moira, since he was still trying to think of the right words to say to her. For some reason, she made him feel as shy as a schoolboy again, and it was a feeling he was not accustomed to at all.
The milk was brought, and Niall sat down opposite Moira again, then gazed at her steadily. She blushed and looked away from him, wishing she could turn and run away. What did he want?
