Page 45 of Highlander's Caged Rose
“My men have sorted out McDonnell’s men,” he stated grimly. “They can walk back tae the castle wi’ us.”
He looked down at Moira and frowned in concern, then left hurriedly to organise his men for the trip back to Baltyre. He had plenty of experience with wounds, and he knew that Moira’s was serious.
Moira looked up into Niall’s leaf-green eyes, and her heart swelled with love. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what we would have done if you had not come. He threatened us both and?—”
Niall smiled and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered. “I will never love anyone but you, Moira, and I will never let anyone hurt you—ever again. I promise. You mean everything to me.”
“And you mean everything to me too, Niall,” Moira answered, “and I…”
She began to voice another thought, but as she spoke his face began to blur before her eyes then darkness descended, and she remembered no more.
Niall looked at Moira, horrified. She could not be dead, could she? He felt the pulse at her throat and almost wept with relief when he found it strong and steady.
“Thank god,” he whispered.
“She is a tough lass, M’Laird,” Jean assured him. “I am sure she will be fine, but we must hurry.”
Niall cupped Moira’s cheek and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “Because I could not live without her. Look after her.”
He instructed, then sprang to his feet and ran outside to get help. His heart was racing, he had never been so afraid.
20
When Moira opened her eyes, she realised that she was back in the castle in an unfamiliar room. She was lying on the soft mattress of a canopied bed, and her head rested on a soft feather pillow. For a few moments her mind was blank, then the events that had happened just before she lost consciousness came rushing back to her in a jumbled blur of realisation.
Moira squealed with fright as the memory of the dagger came back to her. She tried to sit up, but a bolt of sheer agony shot up her arm from the injury she had sustained, and she flopped down on the pillow again with tears streaming from her eyes.
“Mistress!” The voice belonged to Sandie, who rushed to her side and took both of Moira’s hands in her own. “Dinnae worry, ye are safe now.” She took a length of bandage and wiped Moira’s tears away gently.
“What-what happened?” Moira asked fearfully. Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen, but she breathed a huge sigh of relief as she realised that there were none of Brody’s men around her, and no sign of Brody himself. Had Niall killed him? She hoped so. A quick death was more than he deserved.
“The Laird brought ye back fae the village the night, before last,” Sandie replied. “He has been sittin’ by your bedside a’ night, but I told him tae go an’ get some sleep. He is fair worried about ye, Mistress.”
“Have I been asleep all this time?” Moira was shocked, but Sandie smiled.
“I gave ye a wee somethin’ tae help ye,” she answered. “Ye were in such a state when ye came in.”
Moira vaguely remembered Niall’s anxious eyes looking down at her as he carried her upstairs, and the sensation of being laid gently on the bed. She remembered nothing about the journey to the castle, however. She looked around herself.
She was in a very plain room. The furniture was made of an assortment of different kinds of wood, and nothing matched anything else. There was a mahogany table in the corner with oak chairs next to it, and the armoire was oak. A writing table made of ebony stood beside the bed, which was also fashioned from oak, but in a completely different style.
The walls were pale grey, as was the coverlet and drapes on the bed, and were adorned with only one painting above the fireplace, the rest being bare. It was the chamber of someone who was uninterested in frills and furbelows, and had a starkly masculine feel.
“Whose room is this?” Moira asked curiously.
Sandie smiled. “The Laird’s,” she answered.
“Where is Jean? My maid?” Moira asked anxiously.
“Dinnae fret, Mistress. She is preparing some food in the kitchens for ye as ye speak!”
At that moment, the door of the chamber opened and Glennie stepped in.
As soon as she saw that Moira’s eyes were open, her face lit up, and she cried, “Moira! I am so glad you are awake!”
She rushed over to the bed and was about to throw her arms around Moira, but Sandie stopped her at the last moment. “Careful, Milady,” she warned. “The arm is no’ yet healed and is still sore.”
Glennie immediately looked contrite. “I am so sorry, Moira,” she said. I am just so glad to see that you’re awake and looking so well.”
