“Vin,” Moira’s lilting brogue broke through the thick tension that surrounded them. “It just occurred to me that you haven’t seen St. Bernard’s Well yet. Come, you must let me show it to you.”
Vin knew what she was about. No one could miss it since she was as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Still, he felt thankful for the interruption. He could not talk to Richard any further about this right now though obviously it would need to be addressed. Richard had to know Vin did not blame him. Such a discussion wasn’t one to be held in front of witnesses however, and Vin needed an escape, a distraction before he said something else to insult. “I should like to see it.”
“Can I go, too?” Fiona asked, jumping up.
“Nay, Blossom,” Richard said, watching his brother apprehensively. “Continue with your reading if you are done with your tea, won’t you? I don’t want to miss what happens next.”
“You weren’t even listening!” she stomped her foot.
“Nonsense, I’ll tell you precisely where you left off…”
Chapter 11
The most I can do for my friend is simply be his friend.
- Henry David Thoreau
Their words faded into the distance as Moira and Vin made their way to the foyer. “Guthrie,” she called merrily to the butler, “We’ll need our coats, if you will. I’m taking Mr. MacKintosh out to view the waters.”
“Very good, my lady. Just one moment.” The little man scurried off obviously eager to do her bidding.
“Thank you, lovey,” Vin murmured gauchely. “It seems you are the only thing saving me from myself since I returned.”
“Nonsense,” she said briskly, taking her coat from the returning butler and handing it to Vin so he might help her put it on. “You’re just out of practice. The ability to make polite conversation is terribly underrated.”
Vin held out the wool coat awkwardly as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, first one and then the other. The scent of her perfume drifted up from her and Vin was momentarily tempted to press his nose into her hair and inhale the warm bouquet she presented. He shuddered, pushing away the unexpected wave of ardor that washed over him. What was he thinking? He shook his head pulling the coat up over her shoulders reaching inside the back to pull the collar out correctly and turn it down.
A little shiver of pleasure raced down Moira’s spine as Vin’s bare fingers brushed the back of her neck. She wanted to lean back against him, encourage him to make some move, any move that would indicate that he was attracted to her as more than a friend. She turned and met his gaze feeling a flood of emotion in the contact. When she had decided to fetch him for dinner the previous night - suspecting that he wouldn’t come unless directly called on - she had experienced that same rush when she’d found him laid back on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was attraction, plain and simple. Even beyond her deeper feeling, there was this undeniable physical attraction.
For her at least. With a sigh, Moira saw that serious contemplation in his eyes that resided there since his return. How she would love to see his warm brown eyes darken with desire for her.
However, Vin just stepped away from her and offering his arm.
“Shall we?”
Moira nodded, pulling on her gloves and took his arm lightly. Vin guided her through the rear door and through the small gardens that backed the long row of townhouses. Past the gardens, Moira pointed out a pathway leading to the leith. “It’s lovely here, especially in the fall when the leaves are changing and there is just a bit of nip in the air,” Moira told him, keeping her tone buoyant and carefree, determined to banish any tension lingering in Vin. “Abby would say the spring is best when the waters run the highest and the flowers are in bloom. I would agree that the leaves in the springtime create the loveliest shadows against the water rather like lace, I think.”
They reached the top of the stone stairs that would take them to the stream at the bottom. On she prattled as they descended the alternating flight that wound back and forth along the fifty-foot decline. It was a steep descent and a long one, far greater than the two flights it took Vin to get from his bedchamber to the front door at home. Vin felt his new-found strength and stamina flagging as they continued, his knees grew weak. Just when he thought he’d have to swallow his pride and ask her to take a rest, Moira announced. “Behold, the Waters of Leith.”
Through the trees, the wide but shallow stream came into view. Even in the winter’s hazy light, it was a peaceful sanctuary with low hanging oak branches, moss covered stones and ferns lining the banks. Vin rather thought that Abby had the right of it. In the spring, it would be a quiet fairy world where one might easily forget the troubles that life had dealt him. He nodded his appreciation as they reached the bottom, finally noticing the rotund building that broke the gravel path at the bottom of the steps. “What is this?”
“That is St. Bernard’s Well.”
The rounded structure was perhaps thirty feet high and was twice as tall as it was wide. The top half had stately columns supporting a domed top while the bottom was bricked and had a small door in it that faced them mysteriously. It looked very old, but… “What is it?”
Moira frowned at the enchanting edifice. “A well, one would assume.”
“It doesn’t look like any well I’ve ever seen,” Vin added dubiously, trying to discern a well in the large structure that was more akin to an ancient temple than a well.
Moira shrugged knowing she could not refute that simple truth. “It must be. Why else would they call it that?”
Vin shrugged as well and to his surprise, a smile lifted the corner of his mouth as they shared an amused glance. “Who knows?”
A little giggle escaped Moira as she covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “Who knows!
Watching her laugh merrily, Vin felt his heavy heart lighten. “Thank you for getting me out of there, lovey. I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”
Moira raised her hand to caress his cheek tenderly, halting his words. “The problem is that there’s nothing wrong with you, Vin. You just think there is.”
Vin shook his head. “You are the most confounding woman. Either there’s a problem or there’s not.”
With a chuckle, Moira squeezed his arm affectionately. “Oh, Vin! Just relax. You cannot expect everything to just fall perfectly in line like that!” She snapped her fingers. Her knitted gloves muffled the appropriate sound. “Give it time! Give your family time to know you again. Give yourself time.”
Covering her hand with his own, Vin marveled how Moira was able to take the catastrophe of the previous evening combined with his near eruption moments before so unflappably. He felt each moment he spent in the company of another human was nothing beyond the next ingredient in a recipe made for disaster yet she shrugged it all off as inconsequential. He considered her words seriously for a second before shaking his head in bemusement. Vin couldn’t say whether she was wrong or right, did not even care to consider the matter too deeply.
“It’s not at all how I thought it would be.”
“How did you picture your return?”
Vin shook his head, refusing to put words to his dreams.
“Let me guess,” she sent him a challenging look. “You thought you’d come home and that everything would be exactly as you remember it?”
Vin shuffled in embarrassment. “Once again you are spot on in your assessment. It was what Jason and I used to talk about. When we came home…together, we would have our lives back.”
Moira smiled ruefully up at Vin. “You imagined nothing would have changed? That Fiona would still be a child, your brothers naught but rowdy young lads – well, granted not much has changed there – and Geena Campbell would be waiting to be your bride still?”
“Geena Campbell?” Vin searched his mind before a shadow of a leer slanted his lips. “Ahh, Geena Campbell! I remember her. For any man who made an effort, she was an easy…” Vin cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Whatever happened to her?”
“She spent the first few weeks after you left telling everyone that you had asked her to wait for you.” Moira eyed Vin quizzically, wondering for the first time if her old nemesis had been doing no more than spreading wishful rumors.
Vin snorted. “As if I’d ever wed, much less to a lass who’d already had every…” Remembering whom he was talking to, he cut the thought short. “Needless to say, she was mistaken.”
“Not that it matters now,” Moira shook off the sinking in her heart that followed Vin’s words regarding marriage. “She wed Lord Fraser not a month after you left.”
“Benji Fraser? That weasel?” Vin gave a reluctant bark of amusement. “By God, I hope he enjoys her. Everyone else has.”
“That’s a horrid thing to say!” Moira slapped him on the arm but was secretly amused and relieved Geena’s quick marriage hadn’t saddened Vin. “You aren’t upset then that she didn’t wait for you?”
“Why would I have wanted her to wait for me?”
“Was there anyone you hoped would wait for you?” Moira returned his question with one of her own though she bit her lip for asking that leading question.
Absurdly, Vin had the thought that he wished Moira was yet unwed but shook his head at the insanity of the thought. So, he felt some desire for her. His forced abstinence was to blame for those improper stirrings because he simply could not actually want her. She was his friend, he reminded himself once again. Jason’s sister. He had kissed her scraped legs when she was ten years old.
Ahh, but you also dreamed of more than a kiss when she flashed those same long legs climbing up on her horse ten years ago, his mind mocked. Jason had caught him looking and given him a look that laid him low and threatened him before admonishing him to keep his eyes where they belonged.
Vin shook off the memory. He’d been young and at an age where any female looked good and Moira had just been blossoming into the beautiful woman she’d become. A random spurt of wanting did not translate in waiting and wedding.
“Regardless,” Moira forged on when he didn’t answer, “my point was that you should not have expected to come back after such a long absence and think things would be the same. Give it time, Vin. We are all here for you, to support you and to help you if you need it.”
A similar statement from another would have only irritated him, but that assurance coming from Moira warmed his heart. She was such a caring person. She deserved better than having to deal with him. “Do you ever wish I were Jason, lovey?”
“What?” It was such an unexpected question; Moira did not know how to answer.
Vin cupped her face in his hands and tried to wish the thought back, knowing her answer would slay him more deeply than a hundred swords. Still he couldn’t stop the words from being softly spoken. “Do you wish that Jason had come home instead of me?”
Closing her eyes, Moira turned her face into his palm and shook her head. “I would want you both home. What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one,” he chucked her chin. “Look at me, please.”
A welling of pain squeezed Moira’s heart as she met his tortured gaze. There was so much pain there…guilt. She truly did not know the answer to that question. One was her brother. The other held her heart. Both had been in her life since her birth. How could he ask her to pick between them? Not knowing if she even spoke the truth, Moira knew there was but one answer she could give that would spare Vin added pain. “I am so happy you’re here and alive before me, Vin. I would not trade this feeling for anything.”
Vin looked down at Moira’s sweetly upturned face. The chill of the January air put bright color in her cheeks and nose and the breeze ruffled the loose strands of her auburn hair. With her eyes so bright and filled with caring, Vin didn’t think he’d ever seen such a beautiful sight in his life. His hand rose of its own will to toy with a curl of her hair at her temple and smooth it back gently.
Moira froze under his tender touch, feeling that helpless hope burgeon up inside her once again. Would there ever come a time when he could look at her and she didn’t yearn for more? She was so conflicted. Her heart begged her to cling to Vin until she had his love yet her mind feared it would never happen. She didn’t know which way to turn. Her heart’s desire or heartbreak awaited her. Moira only wished she knew which one.
There was an urge inside Vin to simply bend his head and kiss Moira. He didn’t even know why he wanted to other than her lips simply begged for him to do it. It was just that same lust, he supposed, that had taken hold of him before. She was just so beautiful and he’d not had a woman in such a long time, but he could not vent it on Moira. She would be so shocked. Chances were she’d slap his face and never speak to him again and he refused to face the days ahead without her steadfast support. In addition to the fact, her husband would likely challenge him to a dual if he were to lay a finger on her.
Needing to put some distance between them, Vin drew her back to the base of the steps staring up the steep incline with a sense of dread. Clearly, he had not thought this out. “Jason would likely have handled it all better than I,” he said absently while he gauged his bodily reserves.
“Perhaps,” Moira conceded, again fighting back the bitter disappointment of another intimate moment passed without any suggestion of affection beyond the brotherly from Vin. “Perhaps not. Stop trying to compare yourself, Vin. You are different people, so who knows what might have been? You cannot waste your life wondering.” Moira frowned as she noticed Vin contemplating the stone stairs with undue intensity. She followed his gaze then back at him in confusion. “What is it?”
A dull flush crept up Vin’s neck and he shifted uncomfortably.
“Vin?”
“I’m afraid I might not be able to make it back up those steps, lovey.” His humiliation was complete, waiting only on the pity to fill her eyes before he sank as low as a man could go.
She nearly offered to run for one of his brothers to help, but reading his embarrassment, Moira knew she could not subject him to an outward display of weakness before another. She hadn’t been thinking at all to bring him down here when he was still recovering. “Let’s just take them a few at a time, shall we?” she offered cheerfully. “We’ll stop as we need to, though I’d wager you’ll need to wait on me more than I’ll wait on you. These steps always have me faint with exhaustion. Will you hold my hand?”
Clasping her hand in his, Vin looked down at Moira and again felt the urge to kiss her senseless. Shaking off the fancy, he simply nodded as they began their ascent. It was gratitude, that was all.
“At least you’re not wearing a corset,” Moira jibed under her breath and Vin was again tempted to laugh.
“Did I scare everyone off?” Vin asked wryly when they returned to find only Francis and Richard remaining in the parlor. They sat near the fire, each nursing a tumbler of whiskey.
“It’s late already, if you hadn’t noticed,” Francis returned as he put down his drink and rose. “Everyone left to prepare for their evening’s entertainment as it is nearing the dinner hour.”
Moira’s eyes darted to the mantle clock, noting the lateness of the hour. “My goodness! I had no idea we were gone so long.”
“Eve had your maid bring over a dinner gown so you might ready yourself here. She also let Aylesbury know to pick you up here,” Francis told her. “Fret not.”
“Thank you!” Moira hurriedly pressed a kiss to his cheek, to Richard’s and turned to Vin doing the same. “I must be off then. It wouldn’t do to keep Aylesbury waiting!”
Vin watched Moira flee the room, rubbing the feel of her kiss from his cheek. The only reason it had taken so long to return was because of their frequent stops up the long flight of steps. Moira kept up a stream of lighthearted chatter the entire time never leaving him to feel awkward. He was thankful for her consideration, but still exhausted from his labors and eager for an early evening. Still that simple kiss to his cheek had that unwanted ardor rearing its ugly head and Vin was once ag
ain shamed by his lustful thoughts toward Jason’s sister…his dear friend. A married woman.
“I fear I must get ready as well, as do you,” Richard said, catching his brother’s attention. “We’re to the theater this evening, Vin. Abby said to tell you she will expect you back within the hour to ride over with us.”
Vin shook his head, unwilling to voice his weakness. He could not go to the theater! He was trembling with fatigue already. The thought of climbing all the stairs to the Glenrothes box at the Royal Lyceum Theater made his head swim. The box was on the third tier! “I’d rather not, I think.”
“Fiona was counting on your for her escort,” Francis told him and Vin cringed, knowing there was no way he could let his sister down. He only prayed he didn’t humiliate himself in front of the whole of Edinburgh.
“An hour then,” Vin conceded heavily.
Richard nodded, seeming pleased. “Guthrie has an evening suit of Connor’s for you by the door. It should fit better than one of Francis’”
Connor, at twenty-two, was about the same build as Vin currently was. At least he would not arrive at that opera with an outward reason for mockery. There would enough reason, he was sure, without donning the wrong attire. “Thank him for me.”
“Thank Abby, she thought of it.” Richard turned to leave.
“Richard.” Vin’s harsh voice stopped the third brother in the hallway.
Richard looked back at his older brother where he hovered in the door of the drawing room. He could read the misery and hesitation on his brother’s face. Whether Vin believed it or not, Richard thought he knew very well the demons that clearly haunted him. Perhaps not the torture - Temple told him briefly of how they found Vin and the condition he had been in though Vin hadn’t said a word about it yet – but beyond the scars he carried with him. Richard could read the pained guilt in his brother’s eyes easily because he had seen it in the mirror everyday for years. “Aye, Vin?”
Questions for a Highlander Page 97