“We pledged to die for our mistress, and Greg did. Ye were not to be harmed, but I cannot live without avenging my brother. Not even for her.”
He was not to be harmed? It seemed that everything that had happened had been to intentionally harm him, but as he thought back, he realized that the attempts always seemed to be a little off. Fires when he was not in the room. Projectiles that didn’t quite hit the mark. Opportunities that were never flushed out.
“I took Ainsley in. I gave her shelter and sanctuary. Why would she turn on me like this?”
George snorted. “The great Laird Sinclair. So besotted with his own wife that he doesnae see the people around him for how they truly are. Ainsley has the makings of a queen. She is meant to be by yer side, not that wretched woman that ye took for a wife. And when Lady Moira was gone, Ainsley would have taken her place.”
Nausea rolled through him. Ainsley truly was the master manipulator. Sleeping with one of the twins, or even both of them, while tricking them into doing her bidding. George was so in love with her, it was a wonder that he could think at all. The death of his brother must have made him finally realize what they’d been doing.
Now, it was too late. If Ainsley attacked Moira, she would never see it coming. Once again, she would be betrayed by someone that she trusted. He had to get to her. Had to warn her.
“Yet ye plan to betray yer mistress? She cannae be my wife if I am dead,” Connor reminded George as he mentally took in his surroundings. The man wielded his weapons competently, but Connor had something that George did not.
A desperate reason to survive.
“That bitch can rot!” George spat as he lunged. Connor sidestepped, barely missing another glancing glow, but George was so lost in his own anger that he didn’t seem to mind. “She swore that no harm would come to us. She seduced my brother with her lips around his cock and made him promises of grandeur if he would follow her. I never trusted her. Women cannae be trusted, especially women who would fall to their knees for the likes of us, but Greg meant everything to me, and I cannae say that I didnae enjoy my time between her thighs. I was a fool, but no longer.”
And then he charged. Connor knew there was only one chance he had to survive, and he waited until the last minute, moving so that when the sword entered, it nicked him. Grasping the hilt, he stumbled back and kicked at George until he could separate the enemy from his weapon.
With a groan, he pulled the sword free. Blood began to pour from his wound. If he had allowed it to go any deeper, he may not have survived. Even as it stood, he would be lucky if he could staunch the blood long enough to get to Moira.
“Doonae worry,” Connor said as he struggled to control his rage. From the ground, George stared at him with hatred in his eyes. Connor could appreciate a man who faced his death with bravery. “Ye will see yer brother soon enough.”
23
“We were friends,” Moira said softly as she stared at Ainsley. In truth, she didn’t even recognize the wrathful woman standing over. Blood dripped from the mallet in her hand. Moira’s blood. In the haze of her pain, she was grateful that Ainsley had grabbed the wooden weapon and not the iron ax.
“Friends?” Ainsley spat. “As if I could ever be friends with someone like ye! When ye first arrived on Sinclair lands, ye were the laughing stock of everyone. Yer own family, who started feuds over the bloody weather, couldnae keep ye safe. Grace and I befriended ye because we were ordered to by her father. At first, ye were nothing more than an irritant until Connor started looking at ye like he should have looked at me.”
Slowly standing, Moira turned to face Ainsley. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be cowering on the ground. Her head ached, but if she wanted to survive, she would have to ignore it.
And she would survive. She hadn’t come this far just to be taken out by the likes of a treacherous waif of a lass. She had a child to raise and a husband to love. “Ye did all of this because ye were jealous?”
“This? This is nothing! Seven years ago, when I overheard Connor telling one of his friends that he actually planned to marry ye, I knew I had to act. Laird Covington desperately wanted an alliance with the Sinclairs and a piece of the land. I devised a way to give it to them, and make sure that ye would never step foot on Sinclair land again.”
The truth dawned on Moira, and she realized that Ainsley wasn’t just angry. She was insane. “Ye had the Sinclairs killed,” she whispered in horror. “Ye knew that someone would point the finger at me.”
“Oh, I wish I had been there! I never dreamed that ‘twould be Grace to accuse ye. I had plenty of time to explore the keep, and it didnae take me long to identify the secret tunnels that led to the borders. All I had to do was draw a map. It took less than a week, and Covington’s men laid siege, all dressed in Hamilton colors and ready to point the finger at ye.”
“Ye killed two good people. People who cared for ye. Ye had Connor tortured!”
“Aye, he needed to be taught a lesson. I was to be the one who rescued him, who healed him with my love and my body, but Grace wouldnae let me out of her sight and forced me into hiding with her. Connor was supposed to turn to me in his time of need! Instead, he sent me home to keep me safe,” Ainsley said in disgust as she started to pace. “And when the plan didnae work the way Covington wanted, he blackmailed me into marriage with the most terrible man. I endured though. I murdered my wretch of a husband and returned.”
“Only to find Connor wedding me.” Even through the pain, Moira smiled. “Ye have lost, Ainsley. Even if ye kill me now, Connor will never marry ye.”
“Why not?”
She remembered his words last night, the words that she had foolishly ignored because of pride, and it was those words that bolstered her now. “Because he loves me.”
Ainsley stared at her for a moment as if she couldn’t even fathom the concept. Then she threw back her head and laughed until tears ran down her face. “Love ye? Men like him doonae love, Moira. Honestly, I thought ye smarter than that. They do nothing if it doesnae get them more power. If I had been born a man, I would have done well in this world. Instead, I must attach myself to a powerful man and make my gains through him.”
“Ye are wrong. Connor gained nothing through marriage to me. No dowry. No land. Nothing but an alliance with a clan ye call the laughingstock of the Highlands. He doesnae need to gain power for he wields the power he has with fairness and intelligence. Everything that I have gained in this life is not because of him. I did it on my own, and he loves me for it. “
“Enough!” Ainsley hissed as she raised the mallet. “As we speak, my man is leaving enough evidence to convict ye attempting to assassinate Connor and ruin his clan that even a man blindly in love willnae be able to ignore. Ye will die knowing that he will never forgive ye, and when he needs someone, I will be there. Finally, I will be the Sinclair mistress!”
Moira dodged the swing of the mallet and deliberately threw herself to the ground, covering her belly as she fell. Her training was against a sword, but she stayed mindful of the power behind the weapon. Lashing out her leg, she aimed for Ainsley’s knee. Whatever the insane woman was expecting, it was not for Moira to fight back, and she shrieked as she went down, but she didn’t lose her grip on the tool.
Lunging for Ainsley, she struck the woman in the side with her elbow twice before the woman released the mallet. Grabbing it, she stood and stared down at her. The fallen woman’s face was a storm of fury. Remembering all that she went through after the siege on Sinclair lands, the death of two wonderful people who’d been like parents to her, the loss of innocent lives and trust all for the sake of Ainsley’s twisted plan, she hefted the mallet over her shoulder. All she could see was vengeance.
The moment stretched as they stared at each other.
“Ye cannae do it,” Ainsley rasped. “Ye doonae have what it takes to kill. That is why ye doonae deserve to be by his side.”
“Ye are wrong,” Connor said suddenly from behind Moira. R
elief swam through her, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off Ainsley. Instead, she circled around so she could see them both. Blood soaked through his shirt and tartan from his shoulder, and there was a deep cut on his cheek.
“Connor,” she whispered.
“I chose Moira all those years ago because of her strength and her gentleness. She has the biggest heart and the fiercest spirit. Sometimes I think that it is I who doesnae deserve to be with her.” Behind him, his guards began to appear, but not just his warriors. Men and women, some who openly distrusted and accused her of treason, emerged from the woods until they were all surrounded by the Sinclairs. Even if Ainsley got up, there was no escape.
Connor’s eyes flashed with anger. “Yer man is dead, Ainsley. There is no one left to protect ye. ’Tis my right to order yer death, but yer bloodshed has spanned several clans, and ’twill be the King’s duty to unravel the truth.”
Ainsley scrambled to her feet, her face deathly pale. “Nay, ye cannae do this to me, Connor. Give me death. Doonae force me to suffer the humiliation the King will wrought on me.”
“Request denied,” Connor said coldly before he joined Moira, and gently took the mallet from her. “Moira, are ye all right?”
“Aye, ’tis nothing that won’t heal.” Knowing that he was by her side, that he was there to protect her, gave her all the strength she needed. “Ye have brought quite an army to rescue me. I am almost offended.”
He smiled briefly. “My lioness of a wife. These people arenae here on my orders. These are the Sinclairs ye have won over, the ones who knew the truth even before George admitted Ainsley’s betrayal. They are here to do what they should have done from the very beginning.” Turning, he stared at Ainsley. “Pay attention. This is the power that Moira wields.”
Slowly, one by one, the surrounding Sinclairs knelt before her and bowed their heads. Inhaling, Moira slowly turned as she stared in wonder. “Moira Sinclair, formerly of the Hamilton clan, we swear our fealty and allegiance to ye as our mistress. To trust ye to lead, and to protect ye. To love ye and to support ye, ’til there is no longer breath in our lungs or in yours.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Ye have my word as Mistress that I will uphold yer laird’s wishes, to protect and support ye, ’til there is no longer breath in my lungs or yers.”
A cheer went up through the woods as they stood. Ainsley chose that moment to attempt to run, but she was captured quickly. Her furious scream sent shudders down Moira’s spine, but she pushed it aside and turned to gaze up at her husband.
There, in front of everyone, he bent his head and kissed her.
She hid it well, but Connor could see his wife struggled. Still, she waved his help away as they walked to the keep. Too much pride to accept help, especially after the clan had bound themselves to her like that. She didn’t want to appear weak, but as soon as she made it inside the doors, she fell. He caught her swiftly and demanded the healer as he carried her up to their chambers.
“’Tis only my ankle and my ribs,” she assured him, but he could see her struggling to focus on him. The head wound was still bleeding. “Put me down, Connor.”
“I willnae, Wife. Ye have just sworn to uphold my wishes, and my wishes right now are to see ye cared for.” He did his best to smother his panic. It would not do for her to realize the depths of his fear. If he lost her now, he didn’t think he would be able to survive.
By the time the healer was finished examining her, he was pacing furiously outside the locked door. The grizzly old woman opened the door and glared at him.
“How is she?” Connor demanded urgently.
“She will live,” the healer announced. “She is to stay off that ankle and move as little as possible for at least a week. Her head has stopped bleeding, and her pain is subsiding. Now then, are ye going to let me look at that shoulder?”
“Aye,” Moira called from the bed. “He will.”
It was nearly dawn before they were finally alone. Careful not to jostle his wife, Connor crawled into the bed next to her. “I thought I had lost ye,” he said hoarsely.
“I would think by now ye would realize that I am not disposed of so easily.” Slowly, she nestled under his arm and closed her eyes. “’Tis over, Connor. I honestly thought I would never see the day that the truth would finally come to light. There are no more barriers.”
None except for her own fears that he would break her heart again. “I heard what ye said to Ainsley,” he admitted. “I thought ye didnae believe that I loved ye.”
“She was going to murder me. I would have said anything to distract her,” Moira said lightly.
His heart fell. Ainsley was locked in the cells beneath the keep, but her actions were still between them. Would he never be able to scale the wall that she’d erected around her heart?
Maybe if he kept his promises, if he assured her that he would never ask of her more than she was willing to give, he could pull that wall down stone by bloody stone. Even if it took years, he would win his wife’s heart.
“Now that the danger has passed, ye can return to yer cottage,” he told her. “Although, I would ask that ye remain here for a week to heal. I am leaving tomorrow to escort Ainsley to the King’s court. I will return after the trial but I doonae know how long that will be.”
“I wish that I could travel with ye, but I am certain that ye will ensure she sees justice. Will ye declare war on Covington?”
“I will see how the trial unfolds. Covington is an old man. His heir is a grandson, and by all accounts, he is a good lad. Covington willnae fight the battles, but the grandson would, and I doonae relish the thought of killing a good leader.”
“Enough blood has been shed,” Moira said dully. Exhaustion laced her voice, and he gently withdrew so he could pull the blankets up around her.
“Sleep, Moira,” he murmured as he kissed her forehead.
“Ye will wake me before ye leave?”
“Aye.”
Hours later, when he stood over the bed and watched her chest rise and fall, he could not ignore the ache that came with the realization that this might be the last time that he saw her in his bed, for he did not have the heart to tell her what the healer had told him in private.
Moira had conceived. Until they knew the sex of the child, she was no longer obligated to perform her wifely duties in bed.
Knowing that he did not have the heart to wake her, he was not sure he could speak to her knowing that she would remove herself from his chambers. He broke his word and quietly left without saying goodbye.
24
My dearest Moira,
I have watched you blossom into a beautiful young woman during these months with us. I know that there are those who speak unfairly about yer people, but the Hamiltons are one of the bravest clans I know, and I can see that you have their fighting spirit. It is with my wholehearted blessing that you join our family.
As I write this, I know that you are too young to marry. Connor will wait for you to blossom, and in the next coming years, the love you have for each other will only grow. It is everything that I wanted for him. As a mother, and one day you will know this as well, we want only the best for our children. Strength and intelligence, respect and kindness, and so much love. With Connor, there is the pressure as heir, and I feared that he would never find the balance he needs to rule a clan and be true to himself, but I believe that you will be the bridge for him.
I wish that I could tell you life will be easy, but even love can only desperately hold on when things get hard. Be patient with him and be patient with yourself. Above all else, trust that the sun will always rise, and every day is a chance to start over and repair.
I hope to live long enough to see the two of you blossom together, to bounce children on my knees, but a trusted source has informed me that it is not to be so. I write this letter now so you will know that even if I am not there in body, I am there in spirit, and I am so very happy that you will be a Sinclair.
Love him, and lov
e yourself.
* * *
It was the first time she’d been able to open the letter from Connor’s mother. He never brought it up, and she never asked if he’d read his. Part of her didn’t believe that she deserved anything in that chest, and the other part feared what the letter would say. Maybe, after all this time, she’d discover that the Sinclairs had secretly hated her and wanted her to leave.
Of course not. They were the wonderful people that she remembered so well.
The letter had come too late, though, and she feared there was nothing left to repair.
Grace tried to convince Moira once again to stay in the laird’s chamber, but two weeks had passed. Her injuries had healed, and it was time for her to move to the cottage. After all, it was the arrangement that she and Connor had come to. It was what she wanted.
Standing in the doorway, she put a hand to her stomach where her babe was growing and tried not to cry. She’d thought for certain that she and Connor might be able to start anew now that the threat was gone between them. That she might be able to open her heart to him, to admit that she loved him, but he’d left without saying goodbye, and he hadn’t sent a single missive since he’d been gone.
Two weeks. Two weeks and no word from her husband. No idea what was happening to Ainsley. She should have told him about the child before he left, so he’d have something to return to, but she hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t been ready to retire to the cottage and away from Connor’s arms.
A soft breeze lifted her hair, and she turned to close the door. Instead, she found that it was already closed. “Strange,” she murmured to herself. The windows were closed as well. Maybe there was still a hole in the roof that the men hadn’t patched.
Although, it would have been an awfully big hole to allow a breeze to blow through.
Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds Page 34