Page 67 of Eloping with the Laird
‘Look at me,’ he pleaded.
When she finally did, the longing and ache in his gaze was almost her undoing. She blinked back her tears.
‘None of that shame is yours to carry. None of it.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and his voice cracked with emotion.
‘I know you’re right. You have taught me such.’ A tear rushed down her cheek and she wiped it away.
He struggled against his captors, and she ached to touch him, but she had to say all of it. Otherwise, the past would never be over. Peter’s memory would linger and taint everything in her world.
She shook her head. ‘Actually, what I told you earlier was a lie. I did wish him dead for hurting me, for causing me to lose my child. He was no husband. He was no man to look up to. He was not worthy to be laird. I refuse to say otherwise. Hang me if you wish, but I will tell the absolute truth at last.’
‘Thank you, Lady McKenna,’ one of the elders stated. ‘We will discuss and determine our findings.’
The elders rose and stepped away from the others to discuss what they’d heard. Moira didn’t know what they would determine, and the minutes they conversed seemed like seasons. Finally, they returned to their seats at the table and set their steely gazes upon her.
‘Come forward, then,’ said the leader. ‘All of you.’
The three of them nodded and followed their instruction by stepping closer to the table.
‘We are not unaware of the passions and flares of temper of our previous laird.’ His gaze drifted to Peter’s mother. ‘We had also heard reports of his mistreatment of you, Lady McKenna, and the loss of your bairn. We regret no one intervened on your behalf. Therefore, we do not find you responsible for his death. You and your maid may leave. And, Cullen, you may as well.’
‘You cannot find her innocent!’ Peter’s mother protested. ‘She admitted to hitting him.’
‘Aye, but she did not stab him, my lady. He died by a stab wound, not a head wound. You know that. I am unsure as to why you believed her responsible. And if you felt so, why did you wait so long to bring her to our council?’
Peter’s mother fell silent. A feat Moira didn’t believe possible.
The news of the real cause of Peter’s death startled Moira into silence as well. She’d never been told the truth of it. All this time, she’d never known how Peter had truly died, but had blamed herself. Perhaps that’s how his family had wished it. For her to suffer further. The guilt she’d felt slipped off her like a heavy cloak and pooled at her feet. She felt free of Peter and his memory at last and ready to move on from her past. The soldiers stepped away from her and they released her husband as well.
Moira rushed to Rory, crashing into his embrace. Had he ever felt more relief in his life? The feel of her in his arms, her tears on his cheek and her sweet kisses upon his neck filled him with hope. They had no more secrets between them. No more barriers to their happiness, for now. He knew there would be struggles as there always were but for now there were none. There was only unbridled joy and hope.
By all that was holy, she was beautiful speaking her truth. All of it. Even the ugliest parts of it. He was so proud of her. She was no longer hiding in the isolation and the solitude of her plants and books and in the shadows of men. She was no bird with folded-in wings searching for a place to hide for safety. This Moira wanted to live a full, joyful life with him. They would be a family. She was the love match he dared not think possible that day on the tournament fields. She’d fought for a future, and Rory would fight for her in kind. Always. She had saved him when he hadn’t even been trying to save himself.
‘Daughter,’ Laird Stewart called out to them, with his son not far behind.
‘You came for me as well?’ Moira asked, confusion crinkling her face. ‘Together?’
‘Believe it or not we did, even though someone, namely your husband, ignored our well-devised rescue plan and charged in here alone,’ Bran offered. ‘He and I are working on an understanding of one another, but the one thing we agree on is our love and care for you and your bairn.’
‘We’ll always be here for you, sister.’ Ewan hugged her tightly before releasing her again.
‘And I you, brother.’ She elbowed him in the ribs.
‘And if we hurry, we might reach Blackmore by nightfall,’ Rory announced. ‘You are welcome to break your journey with us. It seems appropriate to celebrate together as a family, don’t you think?’
Bran hesitated, but Ewan interrupted him. ‘Aye. A fine idea. I’ve much to catch my sister up on, namely Brenna. And her many suitors.’
Moira shook her head. ‘How many this time?’
‘You don’t want to know. Although one of them comes now,’ he whispered as Garrick MacLean approached them with a handful of his men in tow.
Laird MacLean smiled at her. ‘I am glad you kept your word, Lady McKenna, and let me know of your need for help.’
‘Aye, and I appreciate you offering the aide of your men. It appears our agreement is working out in your favour according to what my brother tells me.’
He nodded and shrugged despite the faint colour rising along his cheeks. ‘Aye. It is early days.’
‘I wish you well in your endeavours,’ she answered.
