Page 31 of Highlander's Caged Rose
Moira smiled at him sadly for a long moment. “Niall.” She sighed and shook her head slowly. “There is no ‘if’, only ‘when’. I do not want to fight with you over this, but I have told you dozens of times now that I cannot stay. I want to, more than anything in the world, but it is just impossible. Anyway, what would your wife say when she saw me? How are you goingto explain my presence to her? You could call me Glennie’s companion, I suppose, but I doubt that story would convince anyone for too long. Face it, Niall. We are not fated to be together.”
Niall got out of bed and paced restlessly to the window, looking out at the stormy morning. Moira watched him, admiring his tight buttocks and muscular thighs. There was another livid scar halfway up his back, but it only added to his manliness, in Moira’s opinion. It was a sign of bravery and determination, and said much about his character. How she loved him!
“Then I will call off the wedding,” Niall declared firmly. “I made the bargain with the Maxwells under duress because it seemed that there was no better choice, but there must be some other way to secure our alliance. I’m not even sure if Beitris is keen on the marriage. Perhaps she is as reluctant as I am. Maybe I can persuade her not to marry me, and we can work out something else.”
He was frowning deeply and ran his hand backwards through his thick hair in a gesture of extreme agitation.
Moira sighed and rose to her feet, then padded across the room to stand behind him. Niall turned and put his arms around her, then drew her close so that their bodies were pressed together from chest to knee. He sighed and laid his cheek on Moira’s hair, then said, “You were made for me, Moira, don’t you see?”
Moira felt her eyes begin to prickle with tears, and her throat became choked with the effort of not weeping. Made for him? Yes, she knew that. If ever two people on earth belonged together, it was Niall and her, but there was no way that would ever happen.
Niall felt Moira’s nearness affect him at once as his manhood hardened against her, and for a short while he tried to resisther, telling himself that he needed to be in his study. He had to start work for the day and could not allow himself to become distracted, no matter how alluring and lovable Moira was.
Yet, he had a very capable steward who would quite happily do his job for an hour or two, and what if he never had the chance to be alone with Moira again? This might be their last chance.
Moira sighed and kissed his neck, and Niall gave a moan of pleasure and tightened his arms around her. “You temptress,” he whispered longingly.
Moira laughed. She could happily have stood in his arms for hours, but she knew he was a busy man and had little time to spare. Yet, she could not bear to tear herself away from him, knowing how little time they had together.
Niall put Moira away a little to look into her eyes again. “You know that we will shortly both have broken hearts?” he asked. He wiped away a tear from her eye. “So why do we not make the most of this stolen time? I am still a free man, and you are a free woman, so why can we not make love as we both want to?”
Moira hesitated, not wanting to seem too eager, until Niall took her hand and wrapped it around his shaft, which was hard and eager.
She smiled lovingly at him, then stood on tiptoe to kiss him, softly at first, then, as she tasted his lips, her own arousal surged into life. She was becoming lost in him again before sanity returned, and she gently pushed him away.
“You have to go,” she said regretfully. “My maid will be here soon, and you will not be able to sneak out. If you’re found here, the news will be all over the castle in a few minutes.”
Servants’ gossip was notorious for spreading like wildfire, and the story of the handsome Laird in the bedroom of a woman who was not his intended was scandalous indeed!
“I am the Laird here, and I say where I can go in this castle,” Niall said angrily, then he let out a heavy sigh as he went back to the bed and sat down on it, once more drawing her onto his lap. He looked at her searchingly. He felt as if he was trying to read her mind through her pale, ethereal eyes.
“Moira, what are you not telling me?” he asked, frowning in concern. “What is your secret? Tell me and I will help you to find a solution to your problem. I told you that I would call off my marriage if you asked me to, all you have to do is let me know what is troubling you.”
He watched her carefully for a few moments and could almost see the thoughts chasing each other through her mind. He had no doubt that she was considering his offer.
Moira looked down at her hands to avoid his eyes. She was so tempted to tell him the truth that she actually opened her mouth to do so, but closed it again quickly. Despite the fact that she loved him, she could not tell Niall about her husband for fear that he might think that she had murdered him. Even if he took her side and decided to protect her, it would always come between them.
“Niall, I am not worth the trouble of a broken betrothal,” she said at last. “Please don’t ask me again because my answer will be the same, and I have no secret to share with you. I am just another ordinary woman.”
“You are anything but ordinary to me,” Niall replied, before he stood up, picked up his kilt and began to dress again. When he was finished, he moved over to stand in front of Moira again. “If you change your mind, Moira, come and tell me. I am here for you at every hour of the day and night.”
Moira nodded because her throat was too choked with tears to speak. She watched Niall close the door behind him, then threw herself on the bed and cried until she had no tears left.
14
Niall had just left her chamber when Moira heard a quiet knock at the door. “Come in, Heather!” She called.
Moira’s maid servant was a young woman called Heather MacFarlane with the characteristic red hair of many Highland girls. She was only eighteen years old and had not been in service too long; she had been given her position because Glennie, on a visit to the village of Baltyre, had seen her begging in the street.
Upon inquiring, she found out that her parents had died, and she was looking after her three brothers and sisters, so she had hired the young woman on the spot out of pity.
Heather was a dutiful maid who did her job conscientiously and efficiently. Moira was reluctant to ask her about her family life, but they did share tidbits about life in the castle. They got along well together, and often laughed at the same things, although there was still an invisible barrier between them. Moira might not have been a lady, but she was still a few steps higher up on the social ladder than her maid.
She entered carrying some fresh wildflowers. Moira smiled in appreciation. “Thank you, Heather,” she said happily. “These are lovely! I love daffodils.”
“I thought ye might like them, Mistress,” Heather smiled, and her hazel eyes sparkled. She poured water into a vase, arranged the flowers, then turned back to Moira again. “Would ye like a bath?” she asked.
“I would love one,” Moira replied.
