The new storehouse was taking longer than anticipated with construction also being done in the kitchen, but they were both almost finished which meant that next week, he could send the guards out to the villages to gather the surplus of the harvest and send the hunters out as well. He would take more than the villages could part with, but he’d never had a problem with famine. Several of the villages were having to trade creatively, but everyone would be fed.
Wanting to check on the border patrols before he called it a day, he led a small number of guards through the woods to cut through. They were talking among themselves, but he was lost in thought. It had been weeks since the fire, weeks since he’d asked Moira to stay with him until the danger had passed.
Last night, she’d brought up the subject again, this time mentioning that there seemed to be no more danger. His stomach had knotted at the thought of her leaving, but then she’d hit upon another idea.
Why didn’t she stay until she conceived? At least then, it would make things easier on both of them. It was an answer that he readily grasped. Anything to keep her in his bed for just a little longer. Although she could even now be carrying his child. After all, they took every opportunity to be together. Just how much longer would he be able to hold on to her?
So lost in thought, he didn’t realize the danger until it was almost too late.
The arrow whistled through the air, and Connor immediately threw himself to the ground. “Get down!” he barked to his men. “’Tis an ambush coming from the west.”
As they all sought shelter from behind the trees, he tensed and waited, but nothing else came their way. Silently, he signaled to Mungo to cover him while he went to investigate. Moving from one tree to another, Connor stealthily made his way to the top of the hill. “’Tis safe,” he called to his men as he frowned and knelt down. There was a spot just beneath the tree where the ground had been disturbed. Glancing up, he noted the strong low-hanging branches. It would have taken very little effort for a man to hoist himself up to get a bird’s-eye view. A skilled archer could have taken him out with very little warning, but he had missed.
“’Tis the second time someone has tried to kill ye,” Mungo muttered as he joined him. “And ye are certain…”
“Even one mention that my wife might have done this will result in nightly patrols for a fortnight,” Connor growled. “I am the laird of a powerful clan. I have many enemies.”
Although it was troubling to think that someone had found a way to infiltrate their borders. The last time someone had…
No, damn it, he would not question Moira. There was simply no way that she’d want to kill him. What could she possibly have to gain?
Other than revenge.
“Fan out. Scour the area. I want this person found so I can put these unfounded suspicions about my wife to bed.”
“Aye, Laird.”
“There is something else to consider,” Mungo said quietly. “Ye have thought that someone loyal to yer parents might be taking it poorly that ye have married Moira. If ye died, Alec would have to return.”
“Then they would be wrong. Alec has his own home now, his own clan. The MacKays are his responsibility, and they are his family now. Only orders of the king would force him to abandon them, and I doonae see Alec doing that. Nay, he would choose a Sinclair to take over.”
“Aye, a Sinclair who would charge Moira with yer death or at the vera least exile her. I have warned ye that there are some who wanted to see her put to death seven years ago, and now ye have made her their mistress.”
A sick feeling unfurled inside Connor. He trusted each and every member of his clan and hated to think that they might be capable of such treachery, but the truth was that Mungo wasn’t wrong. He was a popular laird, but his parents had been beloved.
“Surely no one would stoop to murdering me just to place the blame on Moira,” he murmured. “Especially when I have no direct descendent to take over.”
Mungo was quiet for a moment before he nodded. “Aye, perhaps ye are right. The people love ye, and I cannae see any of them murdering ye.”
“Or destroying property. The kitchen fires were deliberately set, and I am never in the kitchens less I am trying to coax some food from our chef. Certainly, everyone knows that I am not there during mealtime. Nay, there is something that I am missing. Something that is right in front of me that I doonae understand.”
They searched for the better part of the afternoon but found no one and nothing to indicate the identity of the shooter. Once again, whoever it was had disappeared.
19
She was not in her chambers. Connor tried not to panic as he stared into the empty room. It was late, and no one had seen Moira all day. Someone had just tried to kill him, again, and Moira was nowhere to be found. What if another mob had set themselves upon her? What if whoever was trying to kill him decided to simply take her instead?
Movement caught his eye, and he whipped his head around as Brittania walked toward him with a bouquet of flowers in her hand. “Laird,” she stammered, and quickly lowered her eyes. “I apologize. I didnae know that ye were here.”
How many times did he need to remind the woman that she didn’t need to apologize every time they crossed paths? “Were ye and Moira out gathering flowers together?” he asked as he worked to keep his voice calm and pleasant.
“No, Laird. She was out visiting today. She asked that I not work so late, but she has been so kind to me, and I thought I would gather some flowers for her since she loves them so much. Please doonae tell her that I was working late. I doonae want her to be angry with me.”
“What do ye mean Moira went out visiting today?” he demanded. “Visiting where?”
“I doonae know sir. She has been at it all week. Determined to win the clan over.”
A cold fear swept through him. He’d seen his wife every night, and she hadn’t said a word about leaving the keep. He’d assumed that Helena had been keeping her busy, or she’d been visiting with Grace and Ainsley. “Alone?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“Aye,” Brittania whispered. “Should I have gone with her?”
“No,” he growled. “Half my army should have gone with her. Ye have no idea where she might have gone?”
The woman shook her head, and he turned with his heart in his throat. He needed to find Moira immediately.
After searching the grounds closest to the keep to no avail, he headed to the cottage, hoping upon hope that maybe Moira had decided to do some work in her future living quarters. It would take all night if he had to search all the outlying villages, but he would do it.
With Gairdh, he thundered toward the cottage, but even as he dismounted, he saw no light coming from the windows or spilling beneath the door. She was not there.
“Moira,” he whispered. “Where are ye?”
“Connor!”
At the sound of her frantic voice, his head whipped around, and he saw a lantern bobbing up and down in the dark as a figure raced toward him. “Connor!”
Wordlessly, he opened his arms and gathered her in a tight hug as she reached him. “Have ye lost yer mind?” he demanded angrily as he held her tightly. “I told ye that ye were not to go anywhere without an escort, and ye have been galavanting all over Sinclair lands alone for a week, and ye didnae tell me!”
“Why are ye yelling at me? I was told someone shot at ye! What are ye doing here? Has a healer seen ye?”
At the sound of her panic, his own fears subsided, and he contented himself to just hold her. “They missed,” he told her gently.
“Come inside.” She pulled away and walked toward the cottage. “I willnae be at ease until I can see ye for myself.”
Smiling in spite of himself, he followed her in. It was the first time he’d seen the cottage since they’d finished all the repairs, and his good mood immediately vanished. She’d been busy turning it into a home. There were flowers on the windowsill and fresh wood in the fireplace.
&nb
sp; He reminded himself that they’d been using the kitchen, so perhaps she’d just been decorating it for that reason.
She all but pushed him into the kitchen chair before she illuminated him with the lantern. “Where did it almost hit ye?” she asked with some trepidation.
“Moira, I moved, but even if I hadn’t, the arrow never would have hit me. Their aim was off. It embedded itself in the tree to my left.”
She ran her hands over his shoulder and down his left arm before she slumped next to him by the table. “Connor, I didnae do it. I doonae want ye dead.”
“Sweetheart.” Feeling her pain, he gently pulled her into his lap and kissed her. “It never crossed my mind that ye were responsible. Never. When I could not find ye, I feared that the person after me might have gotten to ye. And no one knew where ye were.”
“I went to the southernmost village, by the border. I hadnae meant to travel that far, but the day was nice, and I wasnae paying attention to where I was leading Maevis, but they were friendly. Suspicious at first, but they did warm up to me. This is how I can keep ye safe. If the Sinclairs like me, then there is no reason to attack ye. Connor, I doonae know what I would do without ye.”
It was the closest she’d ever come to showing love to him, so he held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. They sat there in silence, the lantern flickering through the darkness, and he reveled in the feel of her.
Looking up at him, she framed his face and smiled. “I willnae stop what I am doing.”
“I know, just as I know that asking ye would be futile, but there will be a guard going with ye, Moira. Just in case.”
“Connor, I am trying to convey the message that I am harmless. How will it look if I arrive with a guard?”
He was about to tell her that his position was not up for debate when she shifted, and he noticed something odd about her dress. It was thin, far thinner than she should be wearing, and the light caught a hard outline at the center of the bodice. Curious, he reached up and touched it. “What is this?”
Her breath caught in a gasp, and she quickly slid off his lap. “Nothing,” she muttered. “Just the design of the dress.”
“Ye are lying to me,” he said.
“’Tis not important.”
Perhaps not, but the fact that she’d lied to him didn’t sit well with him. He continued to stare at her until she spoke a quiet oath and began to unbutton her bodice. “In most of my dresses, the pocket is sewn into the skirt, but the skirt in this dress is so worn that I feared it would not hold it, so I moved the pocket to my bodice.”
When she reached in and pulled it out, a familiar object glinted in the light, and he froze as he stared at it.
The engagement pendant that he’d given to her seven years ago. “Ye still have it.”
“Aye.”
There were so many questions running through his head as she looked down fondly at it and smiled. “How long have ye been hiding it in yer dresses?”
Moira was quiet for a moment while she turned it over in her hands and watched the light flicker off it. “When I was walking home that day, I was…there was…well, I was worried that something might happen to it, so I slipped it inside my shift. That is when I got the idea to have pockets sewn into my dresses.”
He had to fight to demand that she tell him what happened. “Ye still didnae answer my question, Moira.”
“Fine. I’ve been hiding it since that day, but it was not from sentiment. I just wanted to keep it safe until I could return it to ye. After all, it was made to replicate yer mother’s, and I assumed…” A strange look crossed her face. “’Tis a replica of yer mother’s.”
“Aye,” he said impatiently. “All the Sinclair betrothals’ pendants look the same. ’Tis not passed down because the women are buried with it.”
“No, sorry.” With a frown, she held it up and looked at it. “Something just occurred to me.” Hurrying over to the corner of the cottage, she pushed some of the blankets off and uncovered the chest that had been found with the cottage. “Connor, look at the lock.”
Spurned by the urgency in her voice, he hurried to her side and looked down at the chest. The lock was round, like her pendant. “Ye really think?”
“I do.” Fitting the pendant into the lock, she turned it until they both heard a pop. After a look at him, she stepped back. “’Twas yer mother’s. Ye should open it.”
Slowly, he lifted the lid, and he was assaulted by memories. “There was a chest like this in my mother’s room, a hue darker. It was her bridal gift passed down from my grandmother. Moira, I think this was meant for ye, a present from my mother.”
The chest was packed. Slowly, reverently, he lifted out the items. There were dresses and quilts, even a few baby clothes. At the very bottom were two sealed letters. One was addressed to her. The other to him.
“Connor.” Moira’s eyes were filled with tears as he handed her the letter. “I doonae think I should keep this. Perhaps, if ye have a daughter, we could pass it to her. Or even to Grace. I amnae yer real wife. I doonae deserve this.”
Fury pierced him, and he stood and glowered at her. “Ye are my real wife, and I willnae listen differently. I married ye, Moira. Ye are a Sinclair. Ye share my bed, and ye will mother my children. And for years, ye have carried the Sinclair pendant. Because our marriage was not conventional does not mean that this marriage isnae real.”
After a moment, she reached over him to close the lid and lock it. Tucking the pendant back into her dress, she fingered her envelope and gave him a brave smile. “’Tis late. We should get back home.”
After tucking the chest back in the corner, he saw her giving it one last look before she grabbed the lantern and hurried to the door. “Moira,” he said quietly, “if ye want to feel like my wife, truly my wife, then ye need to let yer guard down every now and then.”
“Connor…”
“Tell me what happened to ye when I exiled ye. Tyree told me that it took ye two weeks to walk home. He said that ye were different when ye arrived.”
“It doesnae matter. In hindsight, things could have been much worse. I survived, I made it home in one piece.”
“Tell me, Moira,” he whispered. “There are nights when I feel ye wake in the dark, and ye panic. I can feel yer fear. If I know why ye are scared, if I can understand, then I can help ye.”
He waited for her to tell him that it was all his fault and she didn’t want his help, but she just walked quietly next to him as they headed back to the keep. For a moment, he thought she would hold her tongue, withhold the truth like punishment, but she eventually sighed. “First of all, Connor, I need ye to know that I doonae blame ye. As I told Grace, I cannae understand the pain and fear that ye were going through. I have seen some dark times, and I have made decisions that I regret, so when I tell ye what happened, I doonae want ye to feel any guilt.”
Connor could make no promises. He was responsible for all of her pain and suffering, and whatever she said next would only add to the weight on his shoulders, but he needed to hear it. He needed to understand all of it if he could ever truly make it right. “Tell me, Moira.”
There was no escaping it. Deep down, Moira knew that she would eventually have to tell him. Now seemed like the worst time. Her engagement pendant burned through the thin fabric of her dress, and her mother-in-law’s letter seared her skin as she rubbed her finger over it. He’d just learned something personal about her, was holding something personal from his mother. She wanted to do nothing but hug him and tell him that everything was fine.
But the past simply could not stay dead.
“I was so distraught that I wasnae keeping a keen eye on my surroundings,” Moira admitted quietly as they walked. The cool air from the night touched her skin, and she shivered, but she needed the distraction to keep from getting pulled back into the nightmare. “Not that it would have done me much good. I should have stayed off the roads. My father had taught me that much because of his fear that I would be kidnapped by
a feuding clan.”
Connor remained quiet next to her although she could feel the tension in his body. She continued. “They were an organized group of highwaymen. I suppose it was the nice dress that I wore, but even though I had no carriage or horse or possession on me, they surrounded me anyway. They had weapons, but there was no need to use them on me. I would have been powerless against one, let alone five, but I would not stop screaming, so they hit me over the head with something. I still have a scar. When I woke up, I was in a small shelter. Dark. No windows. It smelled of mold and men. I knew I wasn’t alone because I could hear scuffling, but it felt like hours before someone came in and spoke to me.”
“They wanted to keep you for ransom,” he said darkly.
“They thought I was a Sinclair because I’d come from Sinclair lands. And…” She swallowed hard.
“And ye wore my medallion.”
“Aye, so when I tried to tell them that I was no longer yer betrothed, they didnae believe me. The leader sent someone to send a missive for my safe return, and that is when they saw the keep under siege. When he returned, he was furious and scared.”
“He didnae want to get caught up in it.”
“They abandoned me in the shelter. By then, I was so scared and exhausted. I started walking in the wrong direction. It took far too long for me to get home.”
“They didnae touch ye?”
“Nay, the leader told his men to leave me alone. That I was to be returned unharmed, but they thought I was a child. Perhaps because I cried like one.”
“Moira, I expected ye to take a horse, but in any case, within an hour of banishing ye, I intended to send someone after ye to escort ye home safely. Unfortunately, I was detained.”
“Detained?”
“Imprisoned, Moira. I was imprisoned in my own cells by the enemy. Alec had seen Grace to safety, and it took a week to get enough men to get into the keep and rescue me. I had assumed by then that ye had made it home. I should have checked. I should have sent someone…”
Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds Page 31