Page 18 of Highlander's Caged Rose
He sighed irritably, visibly annoyed now. “Moira, you should have let me go with you, or taken a guard along, or not gone out at all. You could have been killed!” He had worked himself into such a state that his face had become red with fury.
Instinctively, Moira flinched and drew back, pulling herself as far away from Niall as possible. She looked terrified; they were alone, and the walls of her chamber were so thick no sound would penetrate them even if she screamed as loudly as she could. She looked trapped with no escape.
Niall realised, then, that he had said the wrong thing in the wrong way. He should have been less aggressive.
“What happened to you, Moira?” he asked gently. He reached out a hand to cover hers, but she recoiled from his touch. “Were you imprisoned? Trapped?”
Moira let out a trembling sigh. She had to satisfy Niall’s curiosity somehow, but she could not tell him the whole truth, or he might send her to Brodie McDonnell, which would be tantamount to a death sentence.
A sip of her ale gave her a few seconds to gather her thoughts and avoid Niall’s gaze, since she was afraid that if he looked into her eyes, he would see the damning truth.
“I-I was locked away for a while,” she confessed. “Because my father thought I might run away. He was a cruel man, and so was my betrothed. I managed to get away at last, though, but I had to steal a horse, so he will probably use that as an excuse to come after me. Now, I do not wish to discuss him any more. Would you want to remember cruelty if it was committed on you? Why do you keep asking me about it?”
While Moira was speaking, Niall had been staring at her with a ferocious frown. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were bunched into fists.
Despite her attempt to look defiant and unafraid, Moira stared at him with wide, fear filled eyes, wishing she could just disappear.
“Your betrothed locked you up,” he said, attempting to make his voice calm despite the rage that was boiling within him. “Do you think I would do the same? Do you seriously think I am that kind of man?”
Moira glanced at Niall for a moment, surprised by the question, then her eyes returned to her hands, which she was twisting on her lap. She nodded slowly, her whole body tense as she looked away from him. “Yes, I do. I know no other kind of man,” she replied.
Niall stared at her for a few moments, then he looked like something inside him had cracked and sent splinters of pain searing through him.
Moira watched him from the corner of her eye as he turned and left; something about him was different, but she could not quite put her finger on what it was. She could not possibly have hurt him because you needed to have a heart to have it broken, she thought, and as far as she could see, Niall McPhee had no such thing.
8
After his visit to Moira, Niall could not get her out of his mind. Ever since they had first met, thoughts of her had occupied many of his waking hours, but now he found that she was becoming an obsession. However, since she had told him exactly what she thought of him, he was almost crushed.
Was this how he appeared to Moira? To everyone? A great, fearful brute? He knew his stature was intimidating to some people, but he had never considered himself a brute, and certainly not terrifying.
No one had ever been so cruel to him, but then he had brought it on himself by asking her opinion, and she had given it to him honestly, so the blame rested entirely on him. However, that did not make it hurt any less.
Moira Jamieson was the only woman he had ever met who completely bewitched him, and yet he had a niggling, uneasy feeling about her. His mind could not trust her, but his body definitely wanted to. Every time he saw her slim, shapely form, the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless became almost impossible to resist.
Yet, he could not fall in love with her; she had made it perfectly clear that his advances were not welcome, and she had never done anything to deserve his affection. He had tried to be kind to her, but at every attempt he made she backed away and rebuffed him. Perhaps she saw him the same way as she had seen the other men in her life—selfish bullies.
The only kind words she had said to him were “thank you” when he had rescued her, and that set him to wondering why he had followed her the night before. He had had no idea at the time, but now it occurred to him that he might have had some kind of premonition.
Damn her!he thought as he left his study.What is she doing to me?
Niall threw himself into his work around the castle and the estate, but also his training in martial skills because it was the best way he could think to work off his excess aggression and frustration.
He went out to the courtyard to meet Finn, who was waiting for him so that they could have a good man-to-man bare knuckle boxing match. They began to fight, but Niall could not concentrate. His blows kept missing their target, but Finn’s found theirs all too often. Before long, Niall was dazed and bleeding from a cut on his arm. It was not serious, but it stopped the fight.
Finn looked at Niall with a concerned frown. “Niall, ye are no’ yourself today,” he remarked. “Whatever is the matter?”
Niall sighed as Sandie bound up his wound. He knew he could speak in front of her with confidence; her mind was full of other people’s secrets, and she had never been known to betray any of them. She was utterly dependable.
“It’s Moira Jamieson,” he replied. “I cannot figure out how she thinks. She believes I am like her father and her betrothed—men who brutalised and trapped her. Apparently Iam possessive and cruel, but I cannot bear to believe someone would think of me that way.” He ran his hand through his hair in a familiar gesture of agitation.
Finn stared at him, frowning for a moment. He had seen Niall, who was one of his best friends, upset before, but not like this. At first, he was alarmed, then he realised that it was a typical man’s infatuation with a beautiful woman. He had fallen victim to something like this himself once or twice, but he doubted that Niall had ever done so. His view of women was well-balanced; in his opinion, they were equal to men, with one delightful difference. To say that he was possessive was ludicrous.
He laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. “No, that is no’ you at a’ Niall,” he replied. “I have known ye since ye were twelve years old, an’ I never knew ye tae be like anythin’ like that.” He moved so that he was standing in front of Niall. “I think ye are a wee bit besotted wi’ the lassie. She is bonny, there’s nae doubt about it, but ye dinnae know her well at a’, an’ I can tell she doesnae know you if that is what she thinks o’ ye. I think ye should pull yourself together. Ye know that ye are expected tae marry soon. McNicholl is bringin’ his niece tae meet ye, an’ ye must clear your head o’ every woman but her. Moira will be gone soon, an’ ye will soon forget her.”
Niall pretended to think for a moment, then pasted on a smile and nodded. “You are right,” he agreed. “I have probably just had my head turned by a pretty face.”
Yet as he made his way to his chamber to change into clean clothes and bathe, his mind was still full of Moira. As he saw it, he had two choices. He could simply bow to the wishes of the clan and marry the woman they had suggested, or get to know Moira better.
