Questions for a Highlander

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Questions for a Highlander Page 99

by Angeline Fortin


  Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life.

  But he thought of it now as a thing so unattainable and improbable that to have repined would have been like despairing because one had not drawn the first prize in a lottery.

  - Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

  The next morning, Vin practiced the T’ai Chi Chuan longer than usual. As Moira remarked, he believed the practice was beneficial to his body, he felt stronger each day. However, it wasn’t the body he needed to strengthen this morning. He needed to calm his troubled mind. Whether it had been the unaccustomed amount of social interaction, the noise or a combination of both, when Vin finally found sleep the night before, he had been plagued by some of the worst nightmares he’d experienced so far. Perhaps those had been due to renewed thought about Jason MacKenzie and all he had suffered for his friend had been graphically depicted in these latest terrors.

  There had been Jason dying over and over. His breaths gasping and Vin unable to do anything to relieve his pain. Jason’s anger for letting him die, for not finding a way to save them both. Jason’s anger at Vin for feeling lust for his sister.

  Or perhaps it had been the tirade he’d rained on Richard and the guilt he was left with for his thoughtless words. He owed his brother still more apologies, plus there were bound to be more stressful moments like those in the weeks to come. He was part of a family again with everything that came along. Peace was an unlikely bedfellow in the weeks to come.

  The worst of the night had been the lack of any real rest. No peaceful angel had descended in the night to deliver him from the trials that ravaged him. No moments of serenity. He had thought being home would continue to deliver its sweet tranquility but rather it seemed his luck had run out.

  Perhaps if he moved on to Glen Cairn, the family’s estate north of Edinburgh, he would find an even greater sense of calm. There he might also be able to find out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

  “Your mind is troubled,” Sung Li said quietly from his place beside Vin.

  Vin opened one eye to study the old Chinaman once more amazed the old man always knew when his mind wasn’t focused. “How do you do that?” he finally thought to ask.

  “I am no mind reader if that’s what you think,” Sung Li chuckled. “It’s much simpler than that. Your breathing changes from deep and slow to erratic.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s subtle but there,” the old man shrugged. “What bothers you so? Might be that I can help.”

  Feeling his shoulders drop out of their posture, Vin gave in and turned to the man who had become a friend as well as a mentor. “I was just thinking of my family. I was very harsh with Richard last night. With all of them, really. I often cannot think of anything to say to them. And I was wondering what to do with my life from here. I don’t think I can continue in the military after what has happened but what else is there for me? Where will I live? What will I do?”

  Laying a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Sung Li told him in a confidential whisper, “I will tell you what’s wrong, Vin MacKintosh.”

  “What is it?”

  “You worry too much.” Sung Li cast him a smile that deepened the creases in the old man’s face until he looked like a shriveled mushroom.

  Both brows shot up in disbelief over Vin’s eyes. “That is your sage diagnosis? I worry too much?”

  “Yes, it is.” Sung Li returned to his former posture and closed his eyes. “You live too much of your life in your mind but forget to live the one right in front of you. You take away the worry for the past and life before you now will start looking pretty good, I think.”

  “Why does everyone seem to think that I’m unaware of things that are right in front of me lately? Francis said nearly that same thing last night.” Vin tried to return to the Qigong but couldn’t help but frown. “I see the world, you know. It just isn’t always a pleasant sight.”

  “You live in the past, but even there you did not see,” the old man went on softly. “Your life could be filled with pleasant sights every day if you only opened your eyes.”

  “Now you’re just being cryptic, old man,” grouched Vin. “If you’ve got something to say just come out and say it.”

  “No, sometimes the best way to learn a truth is to discover it yourself.”

  “If you’re trying to calm my mind, you should know it isn’t working,” he muttered, trying to refocus and leave the enigmatic statements behind. To his surprise, Sung Li dropped all pretense of meditation and turned to him giving him a penetrating stare.

  “Your discoveries are your own to make, my son,” said the old man as he stood, drawing his long robes about his shriveled and bent body. “But you must turn your thoughts away from the past. You dwell in your mind too much. You worry about insignificant things too much. You must open your mind to the now. No past. No future. Now. See it. Live it. The rest will come in time.”

  With that firm rebuke, Sung Li left, leaving Vin with even more questions in his mind than had been there before.

  An hour later, still turning Sung Li’s words over in his mind, Vin left his rooms to meet Francis for their appointment with the tailor. He couldn’t expect to borrow Francis’ clothes forever and they were much too big for him anyway. Another constant reminder of how much he had changed. Also, there would be many more events like last night to attend, to pave his way back into Society should he decide to take that path. Even if he chose to retire to Glen Cairn, a man simply needed his own clothes.

  Arriving in the parlor, he found Moira ensconced in a large wingback near the roaring fireplace with no one else about. She was staring into the fire clearly lost in thought. Thinking to retreat and leave her to her thoughts, Vin stepped back but her soft burr stopped him. “Don’t go.”

  Vin wavered for a moment before striding into the room and taking the matching chair across from her. He wiped his suddenly damp palms against his pant legs and looked beyond her and out the window, absently noting the rain slapping against the glass panes and the wind rattling the frames. The silence surrounding them was becoming uncomfortable so he offered, “Cold day.”

  Silence.

  “Yes, it is.”

  More silence.

  Vin stared out the window, wondering why he was feeling so awkward with Moira when he never had before. They’d had a decade of companionship to fall back on yet he could think of nothing else to say. It was a problem he’d experienced with everyone since he’d come home. As if he’d forgotten how to speak with another human, but he hadn’t had that problem with Moira yesterday. Why now?

  Because you didn’t lust after her before, his conscience taunted him. It shamed him that he hadn’t been able to quash the inappropriate feelings the night before. When he had gone to bed it hadn’t been thoughts of her brother or war or pain that preceded his sleep. It had been her. Moira in that ivory gown looking at him with those amazing brown eyes. Moira with her pink cheeks glowing in the winter’s light. The lust that had rushed through his body pushed his tortured thoughts aside. It had shamed him to imagine her that way. She would be appalled if she knew he had attempted to relieve his lust while picturing her in his mind.

  He was.

  Vin seemed to be looking anywhere but at her, Moira thought as she watched Vin study the windows, rain and fire thoroughly. She’d been aware of him from the moment he’d hesitated in the door. Her body had tensed with anticipation and gooseflesh had raced up her arms before she’d even looked up. Would there ever come a time when she was near him when her heart didn’t leap? It was becoming so troublesome in the face of his ever friendly company, she was again determined to fight against it.

  It couldn’t go on like this. If she went to his side in the evenings, he was hers ever so briefly while he slept but it was an illusion, a fantasy that she could lose herself in if it went on. It wasn’t reality. The reality was the only looks he sent her seemed those of a desperate man latching onto her as a lifeline of
sanity in the raging sea that was the MacKintosh clan. She might have become a rock for him, but it was her friendship and compassion that kept him returning to her, not any deeper emotion.

  Despite Eve’s hopes and her own, Vin shown nothing but brotherly affection since his return, even his touches were polite. There had been nothing at all to indicate any deeper feelings or any new attraction. As she thought, it was all for naught. Better now to return her focus to Aylesbury and the future she might possibly have with him and leave this childish infatuation with Vin in the past where it belonged. To that end, late last night when his agonized moans and shouts again woke her from her sleep, she refused to rush to his side if only to prove to herself that she could. In the end, she felt she had denied them both as she had listened to his tortured cries. Her heart had broken again and again throughout the night.

  She waffled between wanting and wanting to run. It was she who made those moments awkward with her wishful yearnings.

  Did he suspect how she felt? He seemed different this morning; distant and uncomfortable. If he was aware, it might be he didn’t want to encourage her by speaking as intimately with her as he’d done before. She would lose a friend but perhaps it was for the best. She didn’t want his pity. Certainly, she had no desire to give him more worries in his life.

  Moira was thinking that she should vacate the room when Vin spoke again. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I was waiting on Evie,” Moira spoke lightly. “She’s bringing Laurie down for tea. Kitty and Hannah were to join us as well, but I think the rain will keep them away. Would you care to join us?”

  Vin had met Laurie, Eve’s son from her previous marriage, and even Kitty’s daughter, Hannah earlier in the week. He liked children, he decided. They were so innocent of the evil in the world, so happy and free with their laughter and affection. They did not look at him with worry in their eyes and did not repeatedly ask him if he were all right. Couldn’t remind him of how things used to be. They were uncomplicated and his life seemed strangely simple when he was with them. Just as Moira’s friendship had seemed a simple thing before his thoughts had taken a lustful turn.

  Perhaps one day he would have a child of his own. Of course, he would have to marry first. Vin snorted inwardly. While half of his brothers had moved on and married despite the misfortune dealt to the family by Francis’ first wife, Vin could not help but still be influenced by her infidelities and the pain she’d caused the entire family. Perhaps it was because she had taken Vin in her sights attempting to lure him to her bed with her flagrant, lascivious seduction, but he had found himself sickened by her and the whole institution. He simply couldn’t imagine placing himself in the position to become such a cuckold.

  Still his brothers seemed happy in their marriages. Even Jack Merrill, who he had long considered the greatest womanizer in Scotland, truly seemed to love Kitty, perhaps even wedding her for more than the child she was to bear him.

  “Would you?” Moira repeated as if she were aware his attention had wandered.

  Vin shook his head, knowing he couldn’t stay in her company for long. He nearly made a fool of himself the previous night when his eyes had been continually drawn back to the seductive neckline of her gown. He considered himself lucky that he’d managed to tear his eyes away each time before she had caught him ogling her. Too bad he hadn’t managed the same with Aylesbury.

  Today Moira was dressed in a warm woolen tea gown that should have been unflattering in its functional styling but she looked lovely nevertheless, he noticed as his eyes crept upward from her skirts until he met her eyes. The burgundy color of the gown made her sherry-brown eyes even richer. She’d left her hair down today. The auburn masses curling about her face and down her back. He wanted to look away but could not. He shook his head again. “I’m to meet with Francis’ tailor this afternoon.”

  Moira’s eyes twinkled suddenly as she nodded. “Most likely he cannot stand to see his own clothing displayed in such a sloppy fashion. Though Connor’s seem to fit fairly well.”

  Unbidden, a smile raised the corner of his lips before it slid away but that slight response brought a full smile to Moira’s lips. “I told you the other night, I am but a shadow of the man I once was.”

  Moira knew that Vin meant the words to in jest, but felt the unintentional self-loathing they held. He saw himself that way, she realized. Just a reflection in the mirror of the man he’d been before all this. It seemed everyday brought a new revelation. Not just nightmares but constant memories. Pain not only of the body but also of the heart. He was a haunted man. She wished she could help by doing more than soothing his sleep and she had even denied him that. She wished she could bring that same peace to his days.

  If she couldn’t shower him with love, she owed it to him to give him her continued friendship. It wouldn’t be fair to him to withdraw it now and run when he needed his friends the most. Whether it hurt her in the end or not, Moira realized she needed to be there for him night and day until she chased the ghosts from his eyes and was really living once more.

  It was time to tuck her fantasies away and help him where she could, as much as she could.

  “I like to think of it more as a return to that dashing silhouette you had in your younger years,” Moira teased cheerfully with a wink. “You look as you did when I was seventeen and you were in your early twenties. In truth, I should thank you for helping me feel younger than my seven and twenty years.”

  That host of a smile hovered on his lips once more. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “I would like to help you as well, Vin.” Moira leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. “Would you like to talk about it? About what happened in Egypt?”

  Vin looked at her hand so small and dainty, so clean compared to the ugliness of his life. He couldn’t bear to dirty it with his tales. “I cannot, lovey. It is not a tale for a woman’s ears.”

  “I am your friend, Vin,” she persisted. “I would do anything to spare you the despair you carry with you.”

  He shouldn’t be so taken aback by her perceptive words. As he had recognized already, Moira knew him well and could read him with remarkable ease. He wished he could unburden himself to her, but knew that he could never tell her the truth of her brother’s death. He couldn’t bear to see her eyes fill with pain again. Or hatred.

  Moira wasn’t surprised when Vin simply shook his head denying her offer. “What of your brothers then? Or Jack? Surely, you could speak to one of them? I feel certain that speaking with someone…”

  “This isn’t a matter for a confessional, lovey.”

  “But wouldn’t you…”

  “No.”

  “But surely…”

  “Enough!” Vin barked and immediately regretted his harsh tone. “I know you mean well, lovely, but just speaking of it doesn’t make it go away.”

  “Because they don’t understand.”

  Vin met her compassionate gaze. “No one can.”

  “Ahh, Vin,” Francis called from the doorway. “There you are! Are you ready to go then?”

  “Aye, Francis, I’m coming,” Vin returned still holding Moira’s gaze. He’d never seen such caring in a woman’s eyes before. His feelings and worries truly mattered to her. Her honest desire to aid him in any way touched him deeply, but Vin was beginning t realize that divulging the truth to Moira might just cost him the dearest friend he had. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “I’ll have the carriage brought around then.” Francis disappeared back through the door.

  “I must go,” Vin raised her hand from his arm and kissed it briefly. “Thank you.”

  As he stood, Moira did as well. He touched her heart so. His pain had become hers. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to help him, to ease his burden, but what could she do when he refused to speak with her? She raised a hand to caress his cheek. “I am yours…your friend for life, Vin. I would do anything to ease your pain.” Giving into her impulse, Moira slid her arms around his m
iddle and embraced him tightly resting her head on his chest until his arms finally returned the gesture. Tipping her head back, she kissed the underside of his chin absently but Vin jerked his head back and looked down at her in surprise.

  Electricity sizzled between them and Moira swayed toward him, forgetting her resolve to lay her romantic hopes to rest, urging him instead to seize the moment and kiss her as she longed for him to do for a decade. His eyes were hot, she thought, as if he was tempted by her. His hands tightened on her back as if in restraint. Do it! Do it! she urged him in her mind. Vin held her eyes for a long minute and she felt hopeful for a moment but then the light faded and his tense body relaxed. Disappointed, Moira rose on her tiptoes and pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek before rubbing it away with her thumb.

  “You will always have me, Vin,” she whispered, fearing the words held more truth than she’d even admitted to herself. “I will be here whenever you need me.”

  “You are a good friend, lovey,” Vin whispered harshly before turning toward the door.

  Moira watched him go, trying not to let his rejection lower her spirits. Instead, she turned to the desk on the wall near the window determined to do whatever it took to dispel Vin’s demons. She pulled out some paper and a fountain pen. Shaking it several times to start the flow of the ink, she set it to the paper.

  Papa, I need you…

  Chapter 14

  We don’t love qualities, we love a person;

  sometimes by reason of their defects as well as their qualities.

  - Jacques Maritini

  The next morning

  Not again! Vin cursed inwardly as he found his brother and Eve once again keeping company with the marquis of Aylesbury the next morning. Biting back a frown of distaste, he offered his hand and a polite greeting. “Aylesbury,” he said with a nod. “We missed you at dinner last night.”

  He hadn’t actually. For some reason, it had been just he, Moira, Eve and Francis for dinner the previous evening. They dined casually with Eve’s son, Laurie, joining them for most of the meal. Afterward, Moira played the piano while Francis turned the pages for her. Then they had played a board game Eve had brought back from New York the previous summer. While they played, Eve told him a story about her and Francis meeting once more and some unrealistic tale of her first husband kidnapping her and Francis being shot. It had been most amusing to have his three companions talking over each other with different versions of the story. It had been a pleasing night and Vin enjoyed their laughter and teasing.

 

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