Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  “In what way?”

  “She honors me for my service to the Crown with the Order of Bath for military service and also the Royal Victorian Order,” he told her.

  “She did the same for Richard,” Moira told him. “She gave him a titular lordship of Glen Cairn as well.”

  “Ahh, that explains a lot.” He had heard Richard addressed as ‘lord’ several times recently. Strange thing as Richard was a third son. “She granted me Grandfather’s title of Lord Clarendon as well.” The title had been his maternal grandfather’s but the Crown assumed it on his death lacking an heir directly through the male line. “She decided to allow the title to descend through the maternal line and, since Francis already has so many titles, gave it to me instead.”

  “Lord Clarendon? I thought your grandmother always called herself Lady Hyde?”

  “Hyde was their surname. It’s my middle name as well, you know, which makes this all seem as if fate is stepping in. But the actual title is a Baronet of Clarendon,” he explained. “I could go by Lord MacKintosh if I wanted to, but I think Clarendon offers more to my ancestors, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I imagine it feels good to have the title back in the family.”

  Vin nodded. “I’ve also received the lands that came with it, including the estate in Essex where Mother was born and the townhouse on Half Moon Street in London where Grandmamma lives.” He was now a Lord in his own right, also a holder of a seat in the House of Lords.

  “That’s wonderful, Vin,” she said sincerely. “It will be a responsibility for you but I think you will enjoy the challenge…my lord.”

  “Never do that, lovey,” he scolded lightly. “But, aye, I think I will as well. I might go ahead to King’s Retreat, I think. I’ve been thinking of getting away from town anyway. I need to get away. The noises in the city set me off. The crack of a whip…”

  Moira felt the quiver run through his body and knew the sounds of the teamsters whipping up their horses echoed those sounds that preceded the whippings he had taken. Many if the scars on his back were any indication. “I cannot imagine your pain. The memories must be horrifying.”

  “I don’t want your pity, lovey.”

  “It’s not pity,” she whispered, running her hand up under his shirt so she could feel the ridged skin. He tensed but she continued. “It’s sorrow. Sorrow for what you have suffered. For what haunts you still. This one though…” she ran a hand around to the longer deeper scar in the front. “It’s not too pretty.”

  They both chuckled and again the tension dissipated.

  “I think it would be a mistake to leave,” Moira went on drawing her hand away. “You’ve had enough solitude in your life. Whether they understand you or not, you need your family right now. If you want to go somewhere, go to Glen Cairn and take the lads with you. I know Dorian is back at Cambridge but the others would go with you.”

  “I’m sure they’d rather enjoy the Season here or in London,” he scoffed dismissively.

  “You could, too.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Moira opened her mouth to argue the point but thought better of it. “Well, when Evie and Francis finish with me in London, I know they intend to go home. They want to settle in and raise their family at Glen Cairn. They want more children.”

  Ahh, that’s right, Vin though hearing only the first of her words. Eve said she was taking Moira to London for the Season soon. Taking her there so she might find a husband. His heart tightened sending a jolt of pain through him. He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want to lose her.

  Silence reigned for several minutes.

  “Are you going to marry him?” he finally asked, though he felt he already knew the answer and he wasn’t disappointed when she responded.

  “Yes, unless a better offer comes along.”

  Ha! According to Fiona, there was no better offer to be had. “Do you love him?”

  Moira stared at Vin through the increasing darkness in the room. The fire had begun to die down and she wished she could see his expression. His voice was tight as if he dreaded the answer. Moira felt hope rise in her once more that perhaps Evie, Abby and Harry were right.

  Maybe Vin was coming to care for her as more than a friend and he simply hadn’t realized it yet. Still, the prospect of another disappointment kept those hopes close to her aching heart rather than racing to the stars. “I like him very much, Vin. I think we could be happy with one another.”

  “How can you like him?” Vin scoffed, though he felt something akin to relief that she hadn’t said yes. “He’s so…”

  Moira laughed. “Women like that in a man, you know.”

  A snort of reluctant laughter escaped him. “I know. Fiona fancies the fellow as well, you know?”

  “Really?” Moira’s brows raised in surprise. She wondered briefly if Harry knew that but Vin went on.

  “What of the other?” Vin realized it now, what he was feeling. It was jealousy. Not simple envy, but full-blown jealousy. For an unknown man, no less. This man she loved. It was misplaced, of course. Surely, this covetousness for her person would ease once he’d managed to relieve himself of his sexual frustrations. “Won’t you wait for him?”

  “Sometimes I think I should.”

  Vin held her hand in his squeezing tightly. He liked that idea. Clearly, the man didn’t deserve her anyway. And if she continued to wait, she wouldn’t leave him so soon.

  Not liking where the conversation was heading, Moira changed the subject. “I saw Mr. Doyle’s The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in your room last night. Are you enjoying it?”

  “I am. It will take me some time to catch up on all the books I’ve missed these last years,” he allowed her to lead his thoughts away. “Are there any in particular I should read?”

  Long into the night, they talked of books and plays. Operas neither had yet seen. The talk was inconsequential but soothing, carrying them until sleep descended.

  Moira awoke in the predawn hours with a moan of desire prompted by the most erotic dream she’d ever had. Vin’s body molded to her own. His hands cupped her breasts as they massaged them. Moira quivered as the feelings lingered and raised her hand to soothe away the ache of her swollen breasts. But a hand was already there!

  Vin’s hard body spooned behind her. One arm curved back curved under and around her holding her tightly against him as his fingers squeezed her breast through her nightgown. He captured her swollen nipple and rolling it until Moira thought she would cry out in agony against the sweet torture of his touch. His other hand was on her hip pulling her back toward him as he ground the hot length of his erection against her body.

  Another shudder raked her as she thrust back against him in mindless desire. Scorching lips sucked and nipped on the side of her neck as he pulled up her nightgown until it was at her waist. His hand slid over her bare belly to tease at the curls before slipping between her legs to cup her trembling core. Moira gasped in surprise before a keening moan escaped her and she moved sinuously against his palm pressing a hand over each of his to keep them in place. Arching her neck to the side, she wordlessly invited further exploration by his mouth.

  She wasn’t disappointed when he took the advantage, kissing and sucking his way down to the base of her throat. Turning in his arms, Moira reached up clenching his shaggy hair in her hands. Pulling, she urged his mouth to her own and kissed him with all the love and unspent passion of a lifetime, parrying his tongue with her own as she poured out every ounce of feeling inside her.

  Vin turned her farther onto her back and lifted himself over her still kissing her as if he were a man dying of thirst. Nudging her thighs apart with his knee, he settled between her legs thrusting his hips against her. A strangled moan escaped him and Moira felt his arms tremble. With a shuddering intake of breath, he pushed her thighs wider, running a hand up under her bottom before he pressed against her once more with the same result. She could hear him panting now. Each breath labored but hers were as well. S
he wanted him. Wanted him inside her in all the ways she had ever imagined and silently cursed the barrier of his trousers between them.

  Moira slid her hands up under his shirt, caressing his chest and kneading the muscles there, glorying as his trembling increased an outward sign of his increasing passions. Loving his reactions, she continued to move her hands touching him everywhere she could reach; his back, roaming over his tight buttocks and around to cup his erection. Even through his trousers, she could feel the scorching heat of his manhood. He let out a loud groan encouraging her to slip her hand into the loose waistband and wrap her fingers around his thick length.

  With a strangled cry, Vin reared and Moira felt a rush of hot liquid cover her hand. He groaned again, choking on what sounded suspiciously like a sob as he thrust helplessly once more and tensed over her. Panting heavily with sweat dripping from his brow, he stilled and didn’t move for so long that Moira froze herself uncertain how to continue. Vin began cursing then, a long string of expletives that brought a blush to Moira’s cheeks.

  Pushing himself up on his forearms, Vin briefly rested his sweaty forehead against her shoulder as if he could not look her in the eye. Moira could feel him shaking his head, as if denying the moment would make it go away.

  There were a million things he could say, should say, to excuse himself, to explain what had just happened but never had he experienced such a humiliating moment. Not since he was a young lad anyway. “Fook me,” Vin swore and pushed himself off her, off the bed knowing all the while he was leaving her confused and probably unsatisfied. There was nothing for it though. He could not stay now even though his body was already stirring, ready for another go round. It was but another in a long list of his humiliations Moira had born witness to of late.

  “Vin?” she whispered into the room.

  Vin turned back at the door to see her sitting up in the bed her auburn locks tangled around her shoulders looking sweet, warm and desirable as any woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were luminous in the early morning light. Every part of him cried out to go back to the bed and finish what he had started.

  “Shit,” he swore softly and disappeared out the door.

  Chapter 20

  Life is a long lesson in humility.

  - James M. Barrie

  That same afternoon

  In Old Town Edinburgh

  “I appreciate you joining me, Jamie,” Vin said to his brother as they both tossed back another drink.

  “Not at all,” Jamie shook his head. “Should have thought of it myself. Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t. What with so many of the lads married now, there’s nary a bachelor house to be had. Certainly no opportunities for a man to truly enjoy himself.”

  Exactly what Vin was determined to do. Enjoy himself.

  Finally, he would sate this ridiculous lust that had been plaguing him since his return. And he would sate it on the right sort of woman. A woman who expected such behavior from a man. Slamming another whiskey glass down on the table, Vin felt that flush of humiliation that plagued him since morning creep up his neck once more. Never had he been so mortified.

  He would have thought those moments with Moira the previous night when he learned she knew of his nightmares or had seen his back would be the worst. They were nothing compared to the degradation of that morning when he’d spent himself in her hand like a trembling youth. What had he been thinking even being there? Despite his best intentions and stern self-lecture on comportment, he awoke with her in his arms and been unable to do anything besides comply with the most base urges of his body. By God, but she felt good. Warm and passionate. Straining against him as if she’d felt that same lust and want.

  Then her slim little hand had slipped around his member and he had burst at the simple touch.

  They might have joked about the length of his abstinence and Vin knew those years were to blame, but he could not face her now. Not only because of his embarrassing episode but because he knew he would have happily plunged deeply within her body, taken her within moments if it hadn’t happened. Moira had been aroused, he knew. He hadn’t forgotten that much in all these years. He knew what he was about. But he had aroused her while she slept, forced her into an erotic web without her knowledge or consent. Never had he felt such guilt.

  The worst part was he wanted her still. Vin wanted nothing more than to return to Carlton Terrace and seduce Moira into submission so that he might have his fill of her. Despite this morning’s episode or perhaps because of it, he felt as if he had only gotten the merest taste of the feast Moira represented.

  He wanted more.

  However, he doubted Moira would ever speak to him again.

  Moreover, because of that, he’d most likely ruined their friendship.

  He couldn’t go back to find out, not with this lust still riding high. Instead, Vin went this morning first to Richard’s to find out where Jamie was living and then to Jamie’s suite of rooms at the Royal Edinburgh Hotel. He’d waited impatiently the better part of the morning for his brother to return from where ever he had spent the night.

  Thankfully it had taken little hinting before Jamie genially suggested they spend the afternoon at a favored gaming house he frequented where they might take in a bit of food, cards and whatever else appealed to them. That last had been added with a wink that left Vin feeling vaguely foolish, a feeling he was beginning to resent when in the company of his younger brothers but the intervening hours of entertainment soothed his irritation.

  The establishment to which Jamie brought him was upper tier and very discreetly placed in a nicer section of Old Town not far from Edinburgh Castle. It was a far cry from the last brothel he visited in Burma with Richard and Jason. The women were all beautiful, lavishly dressed and flirtatious though neither Jamie or he had yet partaken of that particular offering of the establishment. They ate, played cards and drank steadily through the afternoon while they contemplated the offerings at their leisure.

  In truth, now that he was there and the end was close at hand, Vin felt no particular need to rush into bed with the first woman he saw. His untimely explosion that morning had taken the edge off allowing him the restraint to be choosy. He’d wait for one who roused his desires as easily and powerfully as Moira had.

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed the changes in our brothers since you’ve returned, Vin,” James continued as they both refilled their glasses once more. “Never seen so many men brought low by a woman, but that’s what marriage will serve you when it’s not dishing out other troubles.” Like Vin, Jamie had taken a distaste to marriage after having a front row view to Francis’ catastrophic first marriage. Despite the recent rash of marriages among their brothers, it seemed Jamie was as determined to avoid that institution as Vin, confining his attentions to the unavailable or experienced so he might avoid the parson’s noose.

  He’d never wanted to marry. Even as much as Vin wanted Moira, liked her body and her company, marriage, even to her, would be a dismal mistake. He’d seen how badly it could go wrong. When the shine was off and discontent set in, that was where failure found its roots. His brother might argue of love, faith and other such drivel, but their marriages were still young. In time, they would come to see the error of their ways.

  Putting himself in the position Francis had been in five years before was something Vin would never stand for. He would never forget the moment when the truth had been revealed to him. It still left a sour taste in his mouth to recall Vanessa’s flagrant seduction, her cruel words condemning Francis and their marriage as worthless. Even though he had denied her, Vin still felt betrayal for his brother just having been subject to those moments.

  Still…

  “They seem happy enough now,” Vin remarked eying the plentiful cleavage of the lass who brought them another bottle of whiskey thoughtfully.

  “Lead about by the cock is more like it,” James snorted. “Glad you’re back though so we can get out more often. The younger lads are a wee bit too willing to go lo
wbrow for my taste. Need someone more cultured, what? I haven’t been able to get any of the others out in a long while. Not that Francis was much of a womanizer after his divorce, but at least I could always rely on Haddington to join me.”

  Shrugging, Vin swallowed another mouthful of the whiskey, thinking at least Jamie had it right regarding the importance of visiting a quality establishment where one was served a higher standard in all its goods. “Moira said everyone had changed, some more than others.”

  “Aye,” James nodded thoughtfully. “Well, Moira has changed much as well. We hadn’t seen much of her in the years before she came to live with Francis and Eve, but she’s a good egg. Smart, funny…fair lovely. I thought for a bit last year that she might make a match of it with Haddington before Kitty came to town.”

  “Jack?” Vin’s rose in surprise as he shook his head. “Surely not. He’s known her since she was a child. He thinks of her as a sister. We all do.”

  James choked on his drink with a snort and a laugh. “Bugger me, Vin! How can you look at a lass like that and see a sister? Lord knows, I don’t.”

  Vin’s brows drew together as he glared at his brother. Jamie didn’t notice however. He was leering in a manner that was most unbrotherly. “Jamie…” Vin’s voice held an edge of warning.

  “Och, Vin,” James chuckled through a most lascivious look. “Truly? Can you look at her and not wonder what’s under all those layers of clothing? She’s a gorgeous armful I’d wager…”

  “Cease,” Vin ground out and leveled his brother a deadly glare. It mattered not that those same thoughts had been plaguing him since the very moment of his return. He couldn’t stand the thought of another thinking about Moira in such a manner, even Jamie. He told himself it was because he felt himself her protector taking the place of her own brother, but Vin knew better now. He wanted her himself. Wanted that ‘gorgeous armful’ in his embrace. The realization incinerated him with self-flagellating guilt, so wrong did he know his thoughts to be. Moira needed him to be the brother she had lost. She would hate him if she knew such thoughts plagued him.