Page 47 of Highlander's Caged Rose
I have him in my dungeon, as well as Gerald McNicholl, that apparently innocent old man who seemed like everyone’s doting grandfather instead of the deceitful schemer that he was!” His voice was bitter.
“I know I should not be glad that Brody had Roy killed,” Moira said sadly, “but I am. Am I wicked, Niall?”
He smiled. “If you are, then I am just as bad,” he answered. “We are glad that a drunkard, a gambler and a violent abuser was murdered? No, I would say we are both normal, decent human beings, unlike Roy.”
Moira gazed at him, hardly daring to believe that this handsome, honourable, generous man loved her, scarred and abused as she was.
His mood changed abruptly as he caught her hands in his, then raised them to his lips and kissed them before he said, “Moira, please don’t lie to me again. I understand why you did it, but there is no need for any more lying now. If you promise to always tell me the truth, I will promise the same to you.”
“I promise,” she replied, smiling.
“It is not a true promise until it’s sealed with a kiss,” Niall said, his eyes twinkling.
He sat down on the bed, then very carefully folded his arms around Moira. For a moment, he did nothing but hold her, and Moira felt herself melting into him. She was safe in the shelter of his arms, and the musk of his skin, warm and earthy, was now so familiar to her that it brought even more comfort. Indeed, she could have stayed buried in the nest of his body forever.
Niall tilted her face to his and pressed his lips to Moira’s with infinite gentleness. His entire body was throbbing with need for her, and he felt his shaft stiffening as he held her.
He parted Moira’s lips with the tip of his tongue, then plunged it inside to taste her sweetness, all the while running his hands gently over her. It seemed like an age since he had caressed her lips with his; they tasted of sweet wine, his favourite drink. She was intoxicating.
Moira was lost in a sensation of warmth and sensuality; it seemed as though Niall had taken her to a special place inheaven, where all her senses were heightened and attuned only to him. It was glorious, and she never wanted it to end, but of course, it had to.
When they drew apart, he sighed deeply and said fervently, “God, I needed that.”
Moira laughed softly. “As did I,” she told him. Then her face became serious. “There is just one thing I would like you to do for me, Niall.”
He had no hesitation in replying. “Anything,” he replied, smiling. “I will do anything for you, Moira.”
“I would like you to have mercy on Gerald,” Moira said. “He is old and probably does not have much longer to live, Niall. The dungeon is not a place for a man like him. He made a mistake, granted, but he has not killed anyone. Forgive him as a gesture of good faith and make an ally out of him. Nobody, no matter how strong, can ever have enough allies.”
Niall looked at Moira in wonder and chuckled. “You’re already thinking like the mistress of the castle.”
Moira gave him a sad smile, “I am a nobody,” she replied. “I have nothing to offer you. I will leave soon, and you can find a lady of quality to marry.”
Niall looked at her gloomy expression and downcast eyes. He tilted her chin up and looked into her face. “Moira, I have already found myself a lady of quality—you. And never say you are nothing because you mean everything to me, and you can prove that to everyone when you are Lady Moira McPhee.”
Moira’s eyes widened in shock, and her mouth dropped open in amazement. When she had heard him declaring his love for her in the barn the previous evening, she thought she was dreaming. The whole situation had been so blurred and confusing.
Yet here he was, looking into her eyes—asking her to marry him. Had she heard him right? Moira shook her head in disbelief and his face fell; he thought she was refusing him.
Then she smiled, and Niall’s face lit up. “Are you saying yes, Moira?” he asked hopefully.
Moira decided to have mercy on him. “Yes, Niall,” she answered. “But only because I like the thought of being Lady McPhee. It has a lovely ring to it.”
Niall laughed. “Well, speaking of rings, I will give you another one—a wedding ring! One of the things I love about you, Moira, is that you make me laugh, and I have not had enough laughter in my life for a very long time.”
“I am so glad,” Moira whispered, and kissed him softly.
Niall drew her into his arms again and sighed contentedly. “Thank god I found you, Moira, because I love you more than my life. Never leave me.”
“I never will,” Moira murmured.
EPILOGUE
The wedding was to be held two weeks later to give Moira’s arm a chance to heal and to have a dress made. Niall had observed that the bridegroom only had to show up for the ceremony, nobody cared what he looked like. It was the bride and the dress that the guests came to see!
Moira had asked Glennie and Jean to suggest the colour of her wedding dress, and they had chosen light blue to match her eyes, with a gold sash around her waist. The design of the garment was very simple, a long-sleeved satin creation with a short train and a plain round neckline. It had no frills or fussy embroidery, and the only jewellery Moira wore was a heart-shaped gold locket which Glennie had given her.
Glennie presented the jewellery in a small velvet-covered box just after Jean—who had officially become part of the staff in Baltyre—had fastened the last button on the back of her dress. When she opened it, Moira beamed with pleasure.
