Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Moira leaned in and whispered to Vin in a conspiratorial fashion. Whatever she said sent them both into peals of laughter that brought a broad smile to Francis’ face. But that smile slid away when Vin caught her hand in his raising it to his lips. He kissed it looking at her with open desire and promise in his eyes that had Moira blushing and Francis shifting uncomfortably.

  Bugger me, he swore inwardly. When had that happened? It was a clearly intimate look that could only mean one thing.

  Vin and Moira were sleeping together.

  Or rather, not sleeping together.

  He knew since Vin’s return from Raven’s Craig the previous night that he was acting differently. Vin had spent the whole day acting like…well, rather acting like the brother he had known years ago. The tension was gone from Vin’s shoulders, the worry gone from his eyes.

  But at what cost?

  He turned to find Eve standing at his elbow, their newborn son in her arms. She’d just returned from fetching wee Preston from the nursery and was now staring at Vin and Moira as well but there was no surprise in her expression, only concern.

  “You knew about this?” he asked in a low voice, drawing her attention to him. At her slight nod, his frown deepened. “Were you not going to say anything about it?”

  Eve shook her head silently but a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth before she bit her lip to hide it. Francis shook his head as well but in disbelief. “You of all people, my Eden. Where has my proper countess gone?”

  “She was banished by you, Francis,” she teased, lowering their baby into his arms before seating herself close to his side. “In a manner very similar to that, if you’ll recall.”

  “I don’t think you risked as much as Moira,” he argued, calling her attention to a basic truth. “I loved you even then.”

  Eve rested her head against her husband’s strong shoulder and hugged his arm. “It’s all right, Francis. It will be all right.”

  “Will it?”

  “Listen to them,” she whispered into his sleeve though she could not help but feel the same dread she knew Francis was feeling. Vin had taken Moira, shedding the desperate wanting they had seen in him over the past two weeks, and Moira had finally gotten her Vin as she had always wanted. However, it was a delicate balance at this point. Eve knew that only too well. Soon Moira would want more. She would want what she had desired for years. Vin as her husband. If Vin refused to give her the love she wanted to go with it, Eve feared the bitterness would drive them apart.

  Leaving them both empty and desolate once more.

  “He sounds so happy, my paradise,” Francis murmured into Eve’s hair. “I wish for his sake, Vin would realize that a lifetime with Moira might make him even happier than he is right now.”

  “He will,” Eve told him firmly.

  “Before it’s too late?”

  “All we can do is keep helping it along any way we can.”

  “By allowing Moira to be ruined?” he argued, wondering if they had failed Moira somewhere along the way by allowing this to pass. “No man will want her after this. What if Vin turns her away? What will she do then?”

  Eve could only shake her head. She had worried the same questions in her mind the last several days but it boiled down to the simple truth that Moira and Vin were both adults and free to make their own choices even if they resulted in the worse. “I don’t know. All I can do is hope. It is what she wants, Francis. How can I deny her that?”

  “We are the worst chaperones in the world,” he told her, then reluctantly chuckled. “I took that same risk Moira is taking with you, you know. Do you remember, Eden?”

  “I remember I had to seduce you myself to get you to make a move,” she teased, stretching up to kiss him lightly.

  “I bound you to me until I knew that you would never let me go,” he corrected, shifting the baby so he could wrap an arm around her. She could feel his heart beating hard beneath her palm. “I made sure you’d become so addicted to me that you’d never let me go.”

  “Is that what you did?” she teased before sighing regretfully. “Francis, we can’t yet.”

  “I’ll never let you have another child if it keeps me from your bed,” he growled, burying his face in her hair before turning to suck on the sensitive flesh below her ear.

  “It hasn’t kept you from my bed,” she told him breathlessly, tilting her head to allow him greater access.

  “From your body then.”

  “And hardly from that,” Eve teased. “You have been ever inventive this week, my love.”

  “I have had a couple new ideas.”

  “Romantic ideas?”

  “I always do my best, paradise.”

  “I know you do…” She sighed mournfully. “There are so many wonderful ways to spend a rainy afternoon. Do you think we might sneak away for a while?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he growled in her ear before shaking his head ruefully. “If we go, I have little doubt they will follow suit. I don’t think I can so fully encourage this folly.”

  “Good Lord, Francis,” she giggled. “Where do you think they were before luncheon?”

  With a groan, Francis leaned his head back against the settee. “We are the worst chaperones ever.”

  “I’ve heard the same as well.” Eve smoothed the dark, downy hair on their son’s head with the back of her finger. “Let them have their nights, Francis. I will do my best to distract their days.”

  Eve smiled down at her son as he opened his eyes. “Moira, come and look! I think Preston is going to have Da’s eyes.”

  “How can you tell that already?” Moira returned, rising to join them near the fire. Vin followed along behind her. “He’s not even a month old yet.”

  Eve allowed Moira to scoop her son from her arms, enjoying the sight of her friend rocking the baby in her arms as she cooed down at him. She would make a wonderful mother some day. Eve wanted that for her friend. She wanted Moira to find the same bliss she had found with her Francis. After all the years Moira had spent waiting for Vin, Eve hoped her friend would not have made her sacrifices in vain.

  “I think he smiled at me!” Moira exclaimed. “Is he old enough to smile yet?”

  “Not really,” Eve told her, holding back a grin of amusement when Moira turned offering Preston to Vin. He took his nephew awkwardly, allowing Moira to instruct him on how to properly hold an infant. Moira must have forgotten Vin was one of the oldest of eleven children. He’d likely been holding a baby without a care since he was leading strings himself. He made a good show of it though, letting Moira prompt him to cradle Preston in his arms, but Eve could see the casual expertise in his movements. Moira was the one she normally worried about.

  Vin looked down at the baby in his arms. It was one thing to play with Laurie and Tristram, they were lads and he understood them. He could even take some pleasure in Richard’s twin girls but they were chubby toddlers and seemed much more sturdy than this newborn infant. It had been a long time since he’d held one so small and even then, they had seemed bigger to him. This new, innocent life seemed almost alien to him, not in form but in what he represented. A beginning.

  He shifted wee Preston about in a practiced move, palming his head in his hand and letting the length of his body lay down his forearm. He looked down into the baby’s wide serious eyes staring at him and returned the look. Eve might have the right of it. Vin could definitely see the green in the lad’s eyes. Whether they would be the grassy green Eve’s were or Francis’ more olive tone, it was hard to tell. He slipped his finger into Preston’s fist marveling at the strength of his wee hand, comparing the bairn’s soft white skin to his dark, scarred knuckle.

  He’d had the right of it before, children seemed to make everything more simple. Or perhaps they only made one’s life so complicated, a person hadn’t the time to consider anything else.

  Vin smiled at the thought as he absently stroked the back of Preston’s hand with his thumb. From the corner of his eye, he
caught Moira staring at him as if fascinated by the sight of him holding his nephew and cursed inwardly. Her expression held wistful longing he knew wasn’t simply a woman’s yearning to have a child. He’d dreaded seeing that look from the moment they’d first made love and she snuggled against him with a dreamy smile on her lips. As he feared, Moira was building a fantasy around their newfound romance, imagining a future with them together and a child of their own.

  What if they were to, heaven forbid, marry? The idea held more than one opportunity for disaster. There was Vin’s oldest fear. While he might not think Moira capable of such deceit, one day she might grow bored with him and consider taking a lover. While it was difficult to imagine given Moira’s beauty and passionate lovemaking, he might one day tire of her as well. Though he refused to consider that he would sink so low as to leave her in similar straits, such disinterest led to discontent.

  Or worse, what if she found out the real truth of how her brother died and was locked into a marriage filled with hate?

  He had enough problems without adding the possibility of a tragic marriage to them.

  Still, he could feel the appeal of slipping into Moira’s illusion. It was an appealing image, a life and family. A life where each day might hold the affection and laughter this day had. Even a moment of contentment like he’d found with her might be worth the risk.

  Vin shook his head, willing the fantasy away because there was always the greater issue lingering on the edge of his mind. The one he had conveniently set aside to have what he wanted from her already. He might imagine a dream life with Moira but couldn’t have it. He couldn’t give Moira what she longed for even if he wanted to. Vin was man enough to admit there were moments he wanted to but his ghosts were still too close, watching over his shoulder.

  Knowing they weren’t finished with their haunting, Vin thought he would have to address the subject, and soon so Moira didn’t develop expectations Vin couldn’t deliver on.

  Chapter 30

  He had known the love that is fed on caresses and feeds them;

  but this passion that was closer than his bones was not to be superficially satisfied.

  - Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

  Vin woke with before dawn, his body spooned behind Moira as she nestled against him under the covers. Her warm bottom cradled against his groin, her head pillowed by his arm. His other arm was thrown over her waist and tucked up between her breasts. Her hands were curled over his. The contentment he’d felt the previous morning was multiplied tenfold by her presence in his bed and in his arms.

  With an inward groan, Vin knew he needed to address the talk he thought to have with Moira. They’d had a wonderful day and night together. Their evening spent with laughter and friendship with his brother and Eve. Then he’d brought Moira back to his bed and made long, sweet love to her long into the night. It was a tempting illusion of what could be. The lure was powerful to push aside his reservations and embrace the fantasy of having every day be like the one before. And to wake with her in his arms like this?

  There was no point in getting used to mornings like this when there was little chance he might enjoy them indefinitely. This wonderful cocoon of bliss surrounding them now wouldn’t last much longer. It was getting harder and harder to push the guilt aside when it crept over him and Vin knew there was little chance of keeping Moira’s affection or even presence in his life when the truth was outed.

  He would need to explain that to Moira, to keep these encounters in the right perspective for them both. Vin simply couldn’t allow her to get her hopes up that there might be more for them beyond this.

  Still, he could stop himself from skimming a hand over the curve of her bottom and up over her hip. He had even less chance of restraining the urge of pulling her back tightly against his groin. Pushing her hair aside, Vin nuzzled the back of Moira’s neck as he smoothed his palm over her bottom once more before his hand slid between her thighs. His fingers traced the deep valley of her cleft to find the moist heat within.

  Moira turned her face, burying it in the pillow. “Are you actually thinking to wake me like this?” she grumbled. “I’m sleeping.”

  Vin grinned, propping his head on his hand so he could look down at her, or what he could see of her since her hair covered most of her face. Moira was not much of a morning person. Oh, once she was awake and up, she was fine. Getting her awake and up was usually the problem. “You aren’t sleeping any longer, lovey,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of her head before burying his face in the mass of hair around her. “Come on, lovey, wake up and play with me.” He slid a finger back and forth down the cleft.

  “Ugh, go away! I’m still tired!” The fog was starting to clear from Moira’s mind though. Vin had kept her up long into the night but she’d had enough sleep to get by for the day. Unable to stop herself, she pushed back against his hand and offered in a voice holding as much sacrifice as she could summon. “All right then. Fine.”

  Hearing the desire under her grumbling words, Vin grinned again and slid his hand down her bottom once more pushing her top leg away before positioning himself and nudging into her from behind. Moira gave an unladylike grunt but helped him by raising her leg. Smiling in amusement, Vin withdrew and thrust again deeply drawing a deeper groan from her then began to move more quickly, steadily building the tempo. Soon, Moira was arching back against him even as she buried her head in her pillow, her moans and cries muffled by the feathers.

  Feeling her responsive body begin to tighten, Vin reached around and cupped her from the front, circling her throbbing nub until she was screaming into the pillow with her climax. Grabbing her hips, Vin pumped into her twice more before finding his own quick release. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her back against him, holding her close.

  They remained that way for so long, Vin was beginning to think Moira had fallen back asleep until she raised her face from the pillow and turned her head, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “You know, normally I don’t like to be woken up.”

  “Really?” he said innocently.

  “I’m just telling you now. Once is alright, but don’t let it happen again.”

  “I know, you take your sleep very seriously.”

  “I do,” she agreed, knowing that Vin was aware she was only partially joking. She didn’t like to be woken early, she managed being an early riser without anyone rushing the moment for her. On the other hand, if that was how she was roused, Moira couldn’t seem to find much fault in Vin’s methods. “What time is it?”

  Vin looked at the clock on the mantle. “Just half six. Sorry I woke you so early.”

  “I’ll survive,” Moira sighed. “Maybe. I should get up.”

  “Do you have someplace to be?”

  Moira chuckled ruefully. “Back in my own bed before Lucy comes.”

  Vin shared her amusement for a moment but was still reluctant to give her up to the day. “You aren’t riding this morning?”

  Moira turned over trying to gauge Vin’s mood. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was trying to ferret out whether she would be seeing Harry that morning. Looking back on the previous day, her wishful side could point out moments that might be called jealousy but nothing she thought that would win Harry his wager. She didn’t personally think Vin could be prodded into a publicly outward act as Harry or Abby did, but it was nice to feel this tentative possessiveness from Vin.

  It was another step in the road toward a life with him.

  “I’m not,” Moira assured him but felt compelled to add, “because of the ball tonight, you know. I have other things to do today to help Eve. Kitty and Abby will also be over most of the day getting it all settled.”

  “The ball?”

  Moira laughed at the confusion on his face. “Yes, the ball. Your ball. It’s tonight, remember?”

  Vin flopped back with a groan. Ahh, that’s right. He did remember though he would rather not. He’d managed to avoid any real contact with Societ
y since that night at the theater and considered his life better for the lack of social interaction. Tonight there would be no escaping it. He’d even had a suit of evening clothes ordered for himself. He was scheduled to return to the tailor for a final try-on and pick them up at nine this morning. Vin considered the clock once more with a groan and rubbed his face.

  It would certainly be no day like the last.

  “Are you going to escort me tonight?” Moira asked.

  Vin looked at her between his fingers, catching her hopeful look and lower lip caught between her teeth. “Why do you need an escort? It’s in our own home.”

  “Not a physical escort, silly. A figurative one,” she explained. “When we were in London last year, Francis was always technically my escort, but he’s host tonight and I’d like to be on someone’s arm when I enter the ballroom.”

  “Who was doing that when Francis was in London?” he asked. “Richard?”

  Moira could see Vin was skirting the issue but couldn’t understand why. It was just an escort. It wasn’t as if he would have to marry her if he said ‘yes’. “No, Harry always did. He’s been my escort just about everywhere I’ve gone for the past month.”

  Vin gnashed his teeth regretting he had asked. Of course, the marquis had been her escort. Aylesbury had been panting after her for weeks, he wanted to marry her by everyone’s observation including his own. “Perhaps you should have him do it then.”

  Moira’s brows shot up at the tone of Vin’s voice. “You don’t want to? Is that it?”

  Vin sighed. “Moira,” – Moira knew it was bad if Vin was using her name instead of his nickname for her – “we need to talk.”

  Dread leeched through her. That didn’t sound good. “About what?”

  Taking a deep breath, Vin began, “I think you might be seeing more to this affair of ours than I intended.”