Page 16 of Eloping with the Laird
‘One day you will be settled in the dirt in the most beautiful of gardens, and there you shall live out your days and grow and live far beyond me.’ She gave each pot a quarter turn, so they would have even exposure to the sun’s rays.
‘I thought I might find you here.’
Moira froze.
She knew that voice. But how could it be? Hardly anyone knew of her hiding place.
She turned and sucked in a breath. Laird McKenna filled the doorway, his hair a bit mussed, and the wind having brought colour into his cheeks. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and he swallowed, his full heady gaze taking in the sight of her.
She struggled to untangle herself from the chair and stood, attempting to straighten her skirts. ‘My laird. I am surprised to see you. How did you find me?’
‘A lucky guess perhaps. May I?’ He smiled.
‘Aye. Come in.’ She knew it was no lucky guess, but his presence stole her reason. She also wasn’t sure if he was eager to see her or angry. Men had a changefulness that she couldn’t often understand or anticipate. While he seemed kind and reasonable, she didn’t truly know him, did she? And now they were alone, very alone, in a far-off portion of the castle.
He closed the space between them and reached out to her. But as he studied her, he paused, letting his hand fall away. A frown replaced his earlier smile. ‘What troubles you?’
Everything.
She cleared her throat to give herself a moment before answering. ‘Uncertainty, I suppose. While I am quite certain my father and Ewan will be cross with me for what I have done at the fields, I do not know if you are pleased or upset by my actions. And you turning up here unexpectedly has unsettled me. How did you even find me? Only the servants know of my preference for this part of the castle.’ She wrapped her arms around her middle and nibbled her lip. Fear began its quiet steady advance, but she commanded herself to hold her ground.
Her earlier bravado had withered away. The old familiar bubbling in her gut began, as it had a thousand times before. She swallowed the acid in her throat and willed her heart to cease its hammering.
He is not Peter.Not every man was, but her body, her mind, had much to unlearn.
For a long minute, he studied her, taking in every feature. His assessment an intense peering in, as if he was climbing inside of her mind, sifting through her thoughts, her feelings, and the moment she felt she could endure not a second longer, he finally spoke.
‘Mrs Fraser. Moira.’ His hand reached out and brushed her own. She trembled unbidden by the intimacy of his brief touch and use of her given name.
‘Whatever the past has been...’ He faltered. ‘I cannot undo. But I will promise to cherish you and care for you in every way a man and husband should, even if ours will not be a love match. When you showed your promise to me openly on the fields, I could be nothing other than filled with pride and gratitude. To choose a dying man as your husband in front of everyone...to choose me knowing full well of your father’s displeasure in such a choice, is no small gesture.’
He stepped closer, so close that she could feel the weight of his plaid pressing into the folds of her skirts, his boot touching the kidskin of her own. The warmth and earthy smell of him enveloped her, and she felt herself softening, leaning into him like one of her tiny seedlings would towards the promise of a few sparse rays of sun. It had been a long time since a man had touched her in kindness and her body longed to be reminded of what that felt like.
He cupped her face, letting his thumb caress her cheek. She expected he might press a kiss to her other cheek. The closeness of his warm breath and skin still cool from the outdoors made her body shiver in delight, rather than trepidation this time. But there was no kiss, only words. Words that stole her breath just the same. ‘And while I walk this earth, I will endeavour to deserve you.’
And then he was gone, and she found herself disappointed, and surprised that she longed for a man’s touch, his touch.
Steady.
Why had he said such foolish words to her? Perhaps his illness was making him addled.
Rory continued on along the winding maze of hallways back to his own chamber. His body buzzed from his exchange with Mrs Fraser.Moira.His mind tripped over all of the questions and concerns now forming. The fear that had shone back at him when he’d found her had gutted him. Whatever had happened to her would take time to unwind. And sadly, time was not on his side.
He needed to return home and secure a path forward for them both. One that allowed her all of the autonomy and quiet she desired while providing him the best chance of achieving an heir before he died. He ruffled his hair. The odds were not in his favour, but now that he’d found her and they’d committed themselves to one another so publicly, he’d not back down. He refused to be another one of her many disappointments.
Another unexpected revelation and rather irritating development. Hecaredfor her.
He hardly knew her, yet he wished to give her...everything. They were the fluttering thoughts of a fool caught up in romantic notions, not the cool, calculating thoughts of a laird in need of securing a future for his bloodline. He needed to focus on achieving his goal. Moira was no more in search of a love match than he, and feelings and expectations always brought complications, as if he needed more of those today. It would be challenging enough to find a way for them to marry without interference from Laird Stewart.
Rory threw open the guest chamber door with such force that it clapped back into the wall, and Angus turned from his place near the wardrobe where he was packing Rory’s meagre belongings. ‘Make haste with that,’ Rory ordered, his voice harsher than he intended. ‘We will leave at the first opportunity. I’ve much to attend to.’
‘Aye, sir. Has something happened? Has the lass declined?’
Rory frowned. ‘Nay. She has accepted, and we have a wedding to plan.’
‘Then why do ye look as if you’ve swallowed butterwort?’
Rory collapsed into a chair and allowed his head to loll back and his eyes to close.
