Page 42 of Eloping with the Laird
Rory blanched. ‘What? Moira left willingly. She accepted my proposal. Hell, she initially proposed to me.’
‘Aye. I know that, but he claims Moira is his property and that you absconded with it without arranging settlements first. He demands funds from you for the union or he shall take the matter to the king.’
Rory scoffed. ‘The king will not care.’
‘Nay, he won’t, but the uproar Bran will create will undermine us amongst the other clans and weaken our position further.’
‘Further?’
‘May I speak plainly?’
‘Don’t you always?’
Uncle set his stare upon Rory. ‘This is serious, dire even. There is talk of the Stewarts, the Frasers and other clans making an alliance to undermine you and this clan. To absorb us into their own clans once you are gone.’
‘Dead, you mean?’
‘Aye.’
‘While I understand why Bran is angry with me for whiling away his daughter against his wishes as he is a man driven by control, why are the Frasers now our enemy? Moira was their daughter-in-law, and we have no qualms with them. We never have.’ He tugged loose his cravat and set his hands on his waist.
‘It seems they now blame Moira for Peter’s death and for not producing an heir in the time they were married. They say you are providing her refuge.’
‘Refuge from what? What exactly do they insinuate about her being to blame for her first husband’s death?’ White hot anger boiled within him.
‘It is unclear, but the idle talk is spreading like creeping thistle and threatens to smother out the truth.’
‘Blameher?’ He cursed aloud, muttering, ‘She was lucky to have survived.’
Uncle Leo’s brows knit together. ‘What do you mean?’ A muscle worked in his jaw.
Rory shook his head. ‘I cannot betray her trust by speaking of it to you so plainly, but know that she was ill-used and her husband a brute. He will earn no sympathy from me. Truth be told, if he were still alive, I would kill him myself.’
His uncle slapped the letters down on the table. ‘I suspected as much. Why else would she be so eager to...’ But he had the kindness to stop himself from saying the rest.
‘I know. A woman must have reasons for affixing herself to a dying man. I asked her about it the moment we met. While she hinted at unhappiness, it was not until we were married that she shared the details of what she suffered by his hands. And I am not entirely sure I know all of it. Trust me in that you do not wish to know.’
‘Well, what is to be done, Rory? We cannot counter their narrative without exposing Moira to scrutiny, but we also cannot leave it left unanswered. These are serious accusations against her. They will not die out on their own, especially with Bran bent on feeding the flames about us thieving his daughter away without recompense.’
Rory crossed his arms against his chest. As usual, his uncle was right. It could not go unanswered. If there was an inkling of Moira being barren or a whiff of intrigue about her being the cause of Peter’s death it would bring her unwanted attention and make the clan appear weak and vulnerable to attack. Without a clear heir, the McKennas already were.
‘What are our options?’ Rory asked. ‘Seek an alliance with another clan? Provide settlements for Bran? Both leave a sour taste in my mouth.’
‘We might not have a choice. We must act and quickly. I say within the next few days, if not sooner. Otherwise, it may become something we cannot stop.’
‘Let me think upon it. We will come up with a plan, Uncle. We have come too far to lose now, especially to the likes of Bran and the Frasers.’
Uncle Leo nodded and slapped Rory on the shoulder. ‘And keep working on that heir, son.’ He winked at him and heat filled Rory’s cheeks.
It was then he realised his trews were still partially unbuttoned and his jacket askew. Then he laughed a full, deep laugh from his belly, and, rather eager to take his uncle’s advice, turned down the hallway and headed towards his chambers. He and his bride would be enjoying supper in their rooms tonight. The Stewarts and Frasers be damned.
Moira swirled her finger in the dark hair peppering Rory’s chest and rested her cheek upon his shoulder. After another round of lovemaking, they had enjoyed a quick respite of supper before crawling back into her bed to snuggle together. Snow continued to fall outside and the moonlight reflected against it created beautiful shadows of dark and light.
‘I do not know if I have ever felt so content,’ she murmured.
‘Nor I,’ he replied, running a hand over the smooth loose waves of her hair that covered most of her back.
‘What news from your uncle? I had never seen him with such a scowl before.’
