Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds

by Adamina Young

  “I’ve heard stories about yer stallion. Some say that he has the strength of a hundred men.”

  “I have heard the rumors.”

  “A gift from the old gods.”

  “Heard that as well.”

  A smile curved over the older man’s lips. “Ye know, I doonae want to like ye, Connor.”

  “’Tis all right. Ye doonae have to like me.”

  “We have never spoken man to man about what ye did to Moira. I thought my brother did, but before his death, he said that he was more worried about peace. He doted on and loved his daughter, but even he thought she’d betrayed ye and betrayed us as well. I reckon that ye have no idea how yer accusations impacted that lass.”

  Connor’s stride didn’t even falter as they neared the stables. He’d made his apologies, and he wouldn’t make them again.

  “She still doesnae talk about the two weeks it took her to walk from yer lands to ours, but when she arrived, she was a horrifying sight.”

  At that, Connor froze. “Two weeks?” he demanded. “’Tis two days’ ride.”

  “Aye, but she was too scared to take a horse.”

  A knot hardened inside of him. “Still shouldnae have taken her more than a week to walk.” A week with no provisions or protections from the weather. She must have been terrified.

  “I know,” Tyree said softly. There was a dangerous edge in his voice. “For a month, she was too afraid to even leave her chambers. I want ye to tell me right now, Connor, tell me that ye lied to us about when ye exiled Moira. Tell me that she didnae truly spend two weeks out there on her own, facing who knows what kinds of dangers.”

  It only took a few hours after Connor had exiled her to want to send someone after her, to make sure that nothing had happened to her, but then his own hands were tied. It was a week before he could send word to anyone about what had happened. When the message returned from the Hamiltons, denying their involvement, and they hadn’t mentioned Moira, he’d assumed she had gotten there safe and sound.

  “I didnae lie,” he said finally. “Do ye think…”

  “I doonae know what happened to her. It took nearly a year before I recognized the girl that was my niece, but by then, the clan had their own ideas about what happened to her. Some think she hired men to murder yer parents for ye, so ye could become laird. Others think that the attack was because ye had a lover’s quarrel. She hasnae made any friends. She has lived a solitary life, and I doonae think she ever considered a husband.”

  “I cannae change the past,” Connor snapped as he turned and marched to the stables. “I have apologized to yer clan for my actions, and I cannae do anything else.”

  Tyree followed him into the stables. “I know ye spoke to her last night. I saw the tears when she slipped back into the keep. What did ye say to her?”

  A young boy was brushing down one of the horses, and he bowed his head at Tyree. “Morni’ Laird. Sir.”

  “Lad.” Tyree patted him on the head and turned back to Connor before he frowned. “Lad, where is Maevis?”

  “With Miss Moira.”

  “Moira took Maevis out this morning?” The Hamilton laird furrowed his brow. “’Tis not like her to be up this early.”

  “Nay, not this morning. She left afore dawn. I saw her myself when I was coming back from doing my business. She had saddle packs.”

  “What?” Tyree whirled and glared at Connor. “Ye tell me what ye said to her right now, or I swear I will get my sword and run ye through.”

  “I said nothing to her to make her run,” Connor swore. “I witnessed Hamish’s proposal, and…”

  “And?” Tyree prompted.

  “I may have reminded her that we still had not ended our engagement.”

  “Ye did what?”

  “Doonae worry. She made it clear that she would never marry me. I didnae push her. I am not the reason that she ran.” At least, that is what he tried to make himself believe. Now all he could think about were the horrors that she could encounter traveling alone. “I will go after her.”

  “I will gather some men…”

  “I will travel faster alone. On my honor, I will return her to ye.” Connor held out his hand. “There was a time when she meant the world to me. Even when I thought the worst of her, I couldnae see her harmed.”

  After some hesitation, Tyree clasped his hand. “She may have meant the world to ye then, but she means everything to me now. I am putting my trust in ye, lad.”

  “Which direction was she traveling in?” Connor demanded.

  The young groom had watched the whole exchange with wide eyes. “West, sir. Toward Dunlop’s land.”

  There were a number of inns between here and Dunlop. Moira might have decided that it would be safer for her to get a room, but those inns might be no safer than sleeping in the woods. He needed to reach her by nightfall.

  Saddling Gairdh, he accepted one of the go-packs the groom had on hand, and he took off in a gallop, every nerve in his body terrified that Moira had run because of him, and was running straight to her death.

  By noon, Moira was debating whether to turn back. The winds were picking up, and the skies were turning dark. She hadn’t seen the sun in hours. The birds were quiet—too quiet. A storm was coming.

  She was moving at a slow pace, sticking to the woods but walking parallel to the main road. Maevis could run like the wind, but Moira wanted stealth. If trouble couldn’t hear her, then it wouldn’t strike.

  Of course, she hadn’t expected trouble in the form of a storm. If she didn’t find shelter before it hit, she would be caught right in the middle of it.

  “All right, Maevis. We need to make up more time,” she murmured to her mare. Urging her onto the main road, she kicked the horse into a canter and scanned the horizon carefully. She remembered all too well the kind of problems that she could find.

  At the thought of her terrifying two weeks, bile rose in her throat, but she’d learned long ago to stifle it. She knew that this trip would bring up bad memories, but she was determined to see it through. Just a few more days and she could begin a new life.

  She’d just reached the end of the Hamilton lands when the first bolt of lightning streaked the sky and thunder boomed. Maevis jerked, reared, and Moira went flying.

  Her shoulder hit the ground first, and pain seared through her body. In the haze of pain, she saw Maevis tearing off into the woods.

  “No!” Her clothing, food, and coin were attached to that horse. Palms stinging, she pushed herself up. “Maevis, come back!”

  Her pleas were drowned out by another rumble of thunder. The storm was nearly right on top of them. If she didn’t get to her horse soon, then she’d be stranded.

  Her knee hurt, but she could still move. Cradling her arm, she dashed into the woods after her horse. Maevis was loyal to her, and if she could just hear Moira calling to her, then she would come.

  She’d just taken a few steps into the woods when the skies opened up, and Moira closed her eyes. “Oh, of course. Ye couldnae give me one break, could ye? Maevis! Maevis!”

  Following the path of broken branches, she hobbled as quickly as she could. The skies darkened as night drew near, and she was soon soaked to the bone and shivering. Her skin was icy, and she was losing feeling in her extremities. “Maevis, where are ye? Maevis!”

  When she could go no further, she stopped and leaned against a tree trunk. She fiercely made all kinds of promises to whoever might be listening. She’d learned her lesson. She would never travel again.

  As the wind continued to whip through, she heard the crack of a branch. Looking up, she saw it falling toward her, and then there was nothing.

  3

  At first glance, Connor thought she was dead. Terrified, he dismounted, tied his own horse—and the mare he’d found racing in his direction—to the tree, and hurried toward her. There was a trickle of blood on the side of her head, but her chest was rising up and down. Relief swept through him, and he leaned down and gathered her in
his arms. She was soaked and freezing.

  “I have ye now, lass,” he murmured as he carried her to Gairdh and settled her across his saddle. He needed to find them shelter so he could get her warm and dry as soon as possible. The inn was still several hours away, but there were caves that tunneled along the mountains by the creek bed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would suit to wait out the storm.

  Thankfully, he found one large enough for the two of them and the horses. Gairdh didn’t get along with many horses, but he was calm around Maevis which was good because the mare was anything but. After he built a fire at the entrance to warm up the space, he laid out his bedroll and gently pulled Moira back into his arms.

  “What?” she murmured as she shifted. When she caught sight of him, her eyelids flew open. “No. No, doonae touch me!”

  “Moira, ’tis me,” he said as he stood her up. He didn’t want to release her until she felt safe, but he’d seen the swelling of her knee and feared she’d fall. “’Tis Connor. I willnae hurt ye, lass.”

  “Connor.” The initial panic fled but was instantly replaced with distrust. “What are ye doing here?”

  “Looking for ye. Yer uncle was none too pleased to discover yer horse missing. I was with him. I promised to bring ye home safe.”

  “I left him a note. I have no intention of returning.” She glanced around the dark space and shuddered. “Where are we?”

  “A cave along the creek. A long time ago, caves here were used as smuggling holes when the creek was a river, but as the water dried up, so did the smuggling business, at least on this side of the mountain. We will wait out the storm and then get ye to a healer in the morning. First, we need to get ye warm and dry.” He hesitated. “Ye will need to take off those wet clothes.”

  He thought she would balk, but she just nodded. “Please turn yer back.”

  “I checked yer items. The flap came loose, and yer other clothes are wet as well. I have an extra shirt, and ye can cover the rest with the blanket,” he said as he turned and headed to Gairdh.

  After a moment, he heard her frustration. “Moira?” He didn’t dare turn around early.

  “I have injured my shoulder, and I cannae reach the buttons.”

  When he turned, she had her back to him, but he didn’t need to see her face to hear the embarrassment in her voice. Without a word, he approached her and reached for her buttons with trembling fingers. Because he hadn’t seen her for so long, he had no idea how his body would react to her, and he was not pleased to discover that she heated his blood and stirred his body. Damn it though, she is scared and injured, and she hates me.

  He was no monster.

  Working as quickly as possible, he undid her buttons until her dress loosened around her shoulders. “Yer shift?” His tongue was thick, and he could barely get the words out. There were no buttons along the back. Maybe ribbons.

  “Buttons,” she whispered. “Along the front. I think I can get them.”

  She moaned in pain as she tried to lift her arm, and he growled. Gripping the fabric, he pulled and the buttons popped. “Connor!” she gasped.

  There was no way in hell that he was going to listen to her pain while she worked on those buttons, and he was already tempting his control. Gritting his teeth, he draped the shirt over her shoulder and turned. “Change,” he ordered. “I am going to do the same.”

  He’d given her his only other shirt, but he had a pair of breeches. Stripping off his wet shirt and kilt, he changed and wrapped his extra blanket around his shoulders.

  “All right,” she murmured. “Ye can look now.”

  Turning around, his heart lurched. He’d expected her to knot the blanket around her waist, but she had it over her shoulders, leaving half her calf down to her feet bare. She looked so vulnerable and scared. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it was going to be fine.

  “Sit down by the fire,” he said as he gathered her clothes and spread them out to dry. After pulling out some bread from his pack, he broke it and handed her half. While she ate, he pulled out a cloth and walked toward her. “How did ye injure yer head?” he asked as he parted her hair.

  “A tree branch fell on me. Connor, ye doonae have to do this.”

  “Quit squirming, I need to see the wound,” he commanded. She already had a large knot on her head, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped. After cleaning up the dried blood, he tugged down the blanket so he could take her arm. She tried to shy away, and he growled. “Easy, lass. I just want to see yer shoulder.”

  “’Tis fine. I fell on it, but nothing feels broken.”

  No, and it wasn’t popped out of place either. Satisfied, he tossed the blanket over her shoulder and moved away from her. If he could, he’d move to the opposite side of the cave, but he feared even that distance wouldn’t stop the need stirring in his body.

  “Explain to me what the hell ye were doing out here. Do I terrify ye so that ye needed to run from me? To risk yer life?” he asked, falling back on his anger to hide his need.

  Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. “Ye think I did this because of ye? I see that nothing has changed with yer ego, Connor Sinclair. I will have ye know that I have been planning this trip for months!”

  “And just where do ye think ye are going?”

  “’Tis none of yer business!”

  “The fact that I found ye unconscious beneath a tree makes it my business.”

  “Nay, it does not! The whole reason for this trip was because I was getting away from ye! Away from yer horrid accusations and that wretched day! My mother died from sickness, and still, there were whispers that it was by my hand because I was a killer. My father and brothers died on the other side of the mountains, and people wondered if I had arranged it. If I married and my husband became laird, it would never stop!” Her anger and desperation echoed off the cave walls, and she held her hands up against her chest as she started to rock. “The Hamiltons are still my people, and I couldnae leave until I knew that their future was secure, and now it is. I can leave, adopt a new name, and live out my life somewhere else. All I require is a cottage of my own, a goat, and some chickens. Land for me to grow my herbs and vegetables and beautiful flowers.”

  It was hard to deal with her physical pain, but her anguish pierced his soul. “Ye thought Dunlop would take ye?”

  “He has no alliance with us nor has he had a feud. He would not recognize me. I see no reason that he would deny me a place in one of his outlying villages.”

  “Moira. Still so innocent,” he murmured. “Ye are a great beauty. Dunlop would take ye in, but he would expect ye to marry. Would ye keep yer secrets from yer husband?”

  “He wouldnae force me to marry.”

  “He would try, and he may make it a condition for granting ye land.”

  Stubbornly, she bit into the bread and glared at him. “Then I will go somewhere else.”

  How could she not see that most men wouldn’t value her for more than her young womb and pretty face? It was no world for a woman to be alone.

  “Finish eating and get some sleep. The storm should break soon, and we will leave at first light.”

  “I have made my decision, Connor. While I am thankful that ye rescued me, I owe ye nothing, and I willnae go with ye. Ye can return to my uncle and tell him that I am searching for my sanctuary.”

  There was no point in arguing with her. She was exhausted and hurting, and he knew all too well how she could dig her heels in. Instead, he watched her quietly as she finished eating and settled down on the roll. Struggling, she tried to arrange the blanket around her, but she winced whenever her shoulder moved.

  When she was asleep, he crossed the cave and spread the blanket out further, tucking her in. Her skin was flush with warmth. Satisfied, he moved back over to his side and stayed diligent through the night.

  The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the silence in the cave. Pushing the blanket back, she sat up and gasped. No Connor and no horses.

&
nbsp; He’d abandoned her.

  “No, no! Connor!” Rushing to her feet, she winced at the pain in her knee, but it was far more manageable than last night. “Connor!”

  She rushed to the entrance of the cave just as he stepped out from behind his horse. Seeing Maevis calmly munching on the grass, she sighed in relief. “Ye didnae leave me.”

  “Moira,” he started.

  “I know what ye are going to say,” she interrupted. “But ye have to understand that there is nothing for me to return to.”

  “Actually—”

  “If ye take me back, then I will just run again. There must be somewhere for me to find my freedom, and I will search every inch of these mountains until I find it. I will settle in the Lowlands. I will travel to bloody England if I need to!”

  “Moira, ye are half-naked!” he bellowed.

  Blinking, she stared down and flushed. Without the blanket, she wore only his shirt which covered her to mid-thigh. “Oh.”

  “Yer dress is dry. I suggest ye change, and then we can talk.”

  He sounded suspiciously amiable. Did that mean he was not going to take her back to Hamilton? Ducking back into the cave, she quickly stripped off the shirt. It was awkward, but she trusted that Connor wouldn’t come in until she was ready.

  The shift was ruined, so she left it off and stepped back into the dress, buttoning it up. Her shoulder still hurt, but she’d be damned if she asked him for help again. She could still remember the feeling of his knuckles pushing along her body.

  Stepping back outside, she took in the morning sun and breathed in deeply. Last night had been terrifying, but the morning was beautiful.

  And so was the man waiting for her.

  “Yer knee looks better but is still bruised. How does it feel?” he asked.

  The fact that he’d even seen her knee caused her to flush. “Twinges a bit, but I should be able to walk fine.”

  “And yer shoulder?”

  “Same.”