Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  “Like what?” she asked through gritted teeth. How frustrating! Just when she thought Vin might be coming to appreciate what she had to offer, he took a step backward. “It’s just a ball, Vin,” she added her previous thought. “Nothing more.”

  “All I want is friendship, Moira. Your friendship. It’s important to me. I didn’t want this to ruin it. That’s why I was going to leave,” Vin explained awkwardly. “I would never have begun this thing between us if you hadn’t invited me.”

  “Sorry to push you into something so distasteful,” Moira’s words dripped sarcasm as she climbed out of the bed and began searching for her clothes.

  “It’s not distasteful,” he protested, sitting up the bed. “And you didn’t push me. I’ve wanted you from the day I first saw you again. This,” he waved a hand back and forth between them, “has been bloody fantastic. But I just don’t want you to get the idea that there will be more than this.”

  “Like?” Moira pulled on her blouse and began buttoning it.

  “Marriage,” Vin said. “I don’t want to marry. It’s not you. It’s just the whole thing. That whole mess with Vanessa was a hard pill to swallow.” But as Vin gave the reason he had always automatically given against marrying, he knew, in this case, it wasn’t the reason he didn’t want Moira to get her hopes up. He just wasn’t about to share those reasons with her in that moment.

  Moira snorted in a most undignified fashion as she pulled on her skirt. “You needn’t worry that I’ll be panting after you, Vin. I do have options, you know.”

  It was Vin’s turn to grind his teeth. Aye, he knew exactly what kind of options she had and he hated it, but what could he do? If Moira got too attached to him, friendship would be impossible and perhaps it already was. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. However, if he got too attached to Moira, he was setting himself up for a fall.

  Bugger it, he’d known it was a bad idea to let things get this far, to allow such deep intimacy between them. He felt the urge to explain himself, to try to make her understand. Vin shook his head. Her eyes might hold passionate anger now, but he couldn’t bear the thought of the cold disgust that might fill them one day. He couldn’t be bound to her when that happened.

  Even though the thought turned his stomach, perhaps it would be best for Moira to return her attention and expectations to the marquis. He was a better match for her, Vin thought. Aylesbury would never let her down as Vin felt he must.

  “I think you should explore them more fully, then,” he said at last, hating the words even as they emerged.

  Moira stared at Vin in amazement. Just like that? He was sending her off to Harry? But as she looked closer, Moira could see the misery in Vin’s eyes. He wasn’t happy about it and he wasn’t as detached as he seemed. In fact, he couldn’t even meet her eyes as she continued to study him.

  What was going on? It was more than a dislike of marriage, more than his revulsion with Vanessa’s attempted seduction. He might be using it as a handy excuse but Moira somehow sensed there were deeper reasons and couldn’t help but wonder what they could be. Was it still the issue with her being Jason’s sister? His unrealistic need to file her conveniently away as a friend only?

  Vin had never been one for change, she knew that. He’d always liked things just so. He didn’t like his applecart to tilt, so to speak. He’d always been good at seeing through anything that disturbed him. If Vin tended to dwell on the past or see the world with his own interpretation of the facts, it had never influenced their interactions with each other. That is, with the single exception of his insistence through the years of never noticing her love for him.

  Monumental effort was usually required for Vin to accept change. It wasn’t a quality she’d ever had a problem with. It was simply how he was.

  But Moira thought she might have an issue with it now.

  If some moment had taken Vin so firmly in its hold that he refused to embrace a happy future with her, she certainly had a problem with it. She just needed to figure out what it was.

  “I want our friendship to last, lovey,” he said when she remained silent for so long.

  “Save me a dance then, won’t you?”

  Vin searched Moira’s face for the anger that had simmering their moments ago but found none. Rather, she seemed almost calculating and he wondered what she was up to. “How about a waltz?” he asked remembering their one dance years before.

  “That would be lovely,” she answered crisply gathering up the rest of her clothes.

  With that, Moira left him alone staring after her.

  Chapter 31

  Heaven never helps the men who will not act.

  - Sydney Smith

  The Glenrothes’ ballroom was flooded with the cream of Edinburgh society to celebrate Vin’s return. As he stood in the receiving line with Francis and Eve, Vin realized hadn’t been in this situation since Moira and Jason’s father, Jamie MacKenzie, Earl of Seaforth, and his maternal grandfather Neill Mercea, the Marquis of Landsdowne, had held that final ball at Old Klebreck Tower to send them off to Burma nearly seven years ago now.

  Life seemed such a lark then. Oh, to be sure, after four years in the guards, he had seen his share of battles and blood, felt the weight of responsibility settle firmly about his shoulders but life still held a spark. There was laughter and joy. Lately, it seemed he might find those things once more but life had a way of disappointing.

  This ball was not one of the things bringing joy. The guests were too curious to uphold a purely polite level of conversation. Already probing questions were being asked as if a macabre fascination for the details of his imprisonment and torture had Society in its grip. There were more questions regarding his health. Some recent gossip had put him near death’s door. Though only a week old, gossip surrounding his return was rampant and barely based in fact.

  Vin was thankful that his brother’s tailor managed a set of eveningwear so quickly for him. A man needed not only his strength but also his armor when in the face of such a battle. Despite the rude inquiries from the guests, he would be expected to socialize, to at least act as if he were pleased with the ball so as not to disappoint Eve and Abby. So Vin stood through the indeterminable time in the receiving line. He shook hands, nodding politely to the guests and constantly scanned the room trying to keep Moira in his sight.

  His eyes slid off to the side where she stood on Aylesbury’s arm chatting with some other guests. She looked so lovely tonight. Her gown was of pearlescent ivory silk with a ruched chiffon neckline that fell off her shoulders leaving them bared to any man’s gaze. Over the stiff pleated underskirt, more chiffon swathed the skirt hugging and encircling her hips. It was drawn up the side and decorated with silken leaves and flowers of rose, pink and a dark red that just matched the shade of her hair. There were more flowers in her hair and along the neckline just at the edge of her breasts drawing the eye. It seemed that every gown she wore called attention to those incredible globes and Vin wondered if every man stared as much as he.

  Moira whispered to Aylesbury behind a matching fan, her eyes twinkling over the top. Vin thought spitefully that at least her hands and arms were covered with long gloves so the man couldn’t hold her bare flesh in his own. But as if knowing his thoughts, the marquis’ hand snaked up to run along her bared neck ever so briefly caressing her there. Vin followed those fingers through narrowed eyes before catching sight of the man’s mocking gaze. As if he knew what Vin was thinking.

  Likely, he did.

  Why had he argued when Moira asked him to escort her this evening? Even worse, why had he encouraged her to let Aylesbury do the honors? He could barely stand the sight of her on the fellow’s arm but he hadn’t wanted her on his own. He hadn’t wanted Moira to become more attached or risk the same for himself. Just two days into their affair and it was clear everything had changed between them if he couldn’t even offer a friendly escort for the evening.

  Already he was distancing himself from her because of his u
ndeniable need for her and weakness in acting on it. Her friendship was slipping away. Soon it would be gone and Vin felt there was little he could do to stop it. Moira hadn’t understood his concerns behind his intended departure, Richard hadn’t either. Instead they’d innocently tempted him into actions that were costing him a dear friend. He’d never forgive himself for that lapse of judgment.

  How had he lost his head so completely? How could he have risked so much?

  A hundred questions plagued his mind. None had an answer, but Vin knew, despite the difficulty in doing so, he had done the right thing in making his intentions – or rather lack of intentions – clear to Moira. He hadn’t liked that moment any better than she. He had felt her disappointment as keenly as if it were his own.

  And perhaps it was his own. Vin considered Moira once more as she teased and flirted with Aylesbury. Whether his choice was for the best or not, Vin could feel the ripping pain in his chest as he felt her pull away from him.

  “Lord Clarendon,” a voice called for his attention and Vin couldn’t help but wince. While he appreciated his new title, he hated the attention it rained him. Already he could see that calculating look in the eyes of the debutante’s mothers as they were introduced, that speculative gleam assessing his potential. Vin looked down to find a vaguely familiar petite blond bending in a curtsey before him.

  “Vin, this is Lady Lovat,” Eve prompted him as she’d been doing all evening from her place at his side. Vin thanked God she was there for him to ease the way through awkward reintroductions and to keep the line moving smoothly along.

  Hearing the name, he couldn’t help but looking curiously down at the woman. Ahh, he saw it now. Geena Campbell, now married to Benji Fraser, Moira had told him. Vin looked down at her now and wondered what he had ever seen in her. Though she was only in her mid-twenties, his old flirt had the look of a worn out courtesan as she smiled seductively up at him. Her flesh had gone soft and her eyes, though still a vibrant blue, seemed to be harder. “Lady Lovat, a pleasure,” he offered shortly, hoping to keep the exchange as brief as possible. He did not intend to renew old flames now.

  “It’s so wonderful to have an old friend back from the dead!” she gushed. “I would love it if we might catch up. Perhaps you might spare a dance…for old time’s sake?” she asked boldly.

  Vin grimaced inwardly. “I regret, Lady Lovat, I am already obligated for the dancing this evening.” That much was true at least. Thinking that dancing with a lady who was known to him would be better than being obliged to dance with any others, Vin went around before most of the guests arrived adding his name to dance cards belonging to Eve, Kitty, Abby, Fiona and Moira as well as Sean and Colin’s young wives, Coline and Ilona. The couple remaining would be spent catching his breath if needed. The sets would be long and strenuous, he was sure. While he was getting stronger every day, his endurance had yet to be tested. Vin could only hope his strength would hold out over the evening and he wouldn’t embarrass himself by collapsing like a vacuous dowager…or worse, by forgetting the steps.

  The soft strains of the music began, sparing Vin the need to remain in the receiving line any longer. Fetching Fiona from her banter with Connor, Vin escorted his sister to the floor for a traditional two-step that would be the opening dance. Fiona was all smiles as he guided her through the steps and Vin was glad to see her having such a good time. It was still hard to believe that his baby sister would be eighteen in just a few weeks and was old enough to make her debut, to be courted and become a wife. He fairly cringed just thinking on it.

  Soon he was cringing at the effort it took to maintain himself through the lively dance. With effort, he pushed himself to complete the long set, but he was never so grateful as when the music ended. Vin escorted the buoyant lass on his arm to the refreshment table where she was quickly surrounded by adoring admirers. Pushed back out of her circle, Vin watched with a scowl as the young bucks jockeyed for her attention and for the next dance. However, Fiona MacKintosh didn’t have ten brothers without repercussions for within moments Connor was at her side to deter the would-be suitors. Soon he was whisking her off for the next set.

  Vin thought Connor a responsible sort to look after their sister so studiously. Though he was just twenty-two, he took the task of keeping Fiona out of the grasp of fortune hunters and rakes seriously. Personally, Vin didn’t think monopolizing her time would deter the most avid suitors for long. He frowned. He knew that Fiona had a dowry healthy enough to make her a prime target for the unsavory but wondered if the MacKintosh brothers weren’t doing their sister a disservice by being so overprotective. Men wanted the unobtainable. They wanted what they couldn’t have and the brothers of their clan were making damned sure no one could have her.

  Jamie joined him at the table as he was watching Fiona and Connor go off to the next set. “Hard to believe she’s old enough for all of this, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, it is,” Vin answered, taking a glass of champagne from the table while he tried to catch his breath. “She was just a gangly lass when I last saw her. Mouthy, too.”

  “Well, she still is that,” James grinned. “You should hear her and Connor go at each other sometimes. You’d swear you were in the middle of a Shakespearean comedy or some such. I think they take a great deal of pride in being able to outwit each other rather like Beatrice and Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing. It’s like a game of who can top the other in words.”

  “I hadn’t heard them together much yet,” Vin again thought of all he missed. “I’ll have to pay better attention next time.”

  “It’s worthy of an audience to be sure. I don’t worry much over those other beaus of hers because of it. They bore her to death.” Jamie eyed Vin curiously and changed the subject. “You quite broke poor Bess’s heart last week.”

  Vin just shot him a glare declaring the topic off-limits, but Jamie persisted. “If she wasn’t to your liking, my Mrs. Ross has a friend, Lady Reynolds, who might be good company for you. Her husband is old enough to be her grandfather and suffers from rampant gout. She’s a merry lass and lovely to boot if you’d like to give her a try.”

  “No, thank you,” Vin ground out again feeling that horrid sense that his brothers were patronizing him. Richard and Jamie both. Who next? Tam? Dorian, even? He was the elder here, for Christ’s sake!

  “How about…”

  “Shut it, Jamie,” Vin bit out. “I don’t need a pimp. Let it go, yes? I’ve taken care of it already.”

  Jamie’s brows shot up. “Really? Who? Must have been Lady Lovat, I’d wager. Saw her giving you the eye a bit earlier.”

  “Jamie!” Vin turned seeing the humor dancing in his brother’s eyes as if he knew he was aggravating his brother, but rather enjoyed it. Vin felt his ire fizzle away and a brief chuckle burst out of him with a puff of air. “My God, but you’re an ass, brother.”

  “I know,” Jamie smiled, clapping Vin on the back. “But you were taking this whole thing a might bit seriously. Loosen up, old man, this is supposed to be fun, you know?”

  Vin’s lips twisted wryly. “Is it really? I feel like I’m a slab of meat being held up for inspection.”

  “Aye,” Jamie nodded. “Now you know how I feel. That’s why I never come to these things. Wasn’t so bad before Haddington wed, most were after him for the title and, perhaps, the mamas will lay off me now that you’re here. You’re a much better catch than I, you know?”

  “God help me.”

  “God help any bachelor when the Season approaches.” Jamie surveyed the room. “‘Course Aylesbury would be getting the brunt of it were it not for his attachment with Moira. He’s viewed as a lost cause to most of the mamas. Too bad that, it would take the pressure off if he were available. You’ve been keeping company with Moira as late. Do you think they’ll wed soon?”

  Vin watched Moira again laughing with Aylesbury on the other side of the dance floor. What could the fellow possibly say to keep her in stitches all the time? No one was that amusing all
the time! Still, she seemed constantly amused in his presence. Comfortable with him. Content, even. As if they were already long married. They would have a good marriage just as Moira had told him, because she liked Aylesbury. They were friends.

  But she didn’t love the marquis, Vin mentally argued. She admitted that already. She loved another. Vin felt his chest tighten. Either way, she would be lost to him soon. Who was he kidding? He refused to escort her tonight lest she develop expectations of him, but he’d forgotten he had nothing to fear on that front. In all likelihood, any attachment he imagined was just that. She didn’t need or probably even want more from him. Moira had an eager groom waiting for her in the wings.

  She didn’t need more. It was only his arrogance which had assumed more. What a conceited fool he was!

  She was simply lonely, Moira told him. As was he.

  She wanted him. As he wanted her.

  But as she said, she had other options. Why hadn’t she chosen Aylesbury as her lover?

  Why him?

  It was a question that had not mattered two days ago, but as Vin watched Aylesbury’s arm snake around her waist once again, suddenly it mattered very much. Why would Moira have chosen him to diminish her loneliness if that was all she wanted? Why not chose Aylesbury, the man who might one day be her husband, to do the honors? God, Vin hoped it hadn’t been pity that prompted her to surrender herself to him!

  It was a lowering thought stripping away all pride, leaving Vin stripped bare, wondering if he could even distinguish reality from fantasy any longer.

  He and Jamie were joined by Francis and Eve as well as Kitty and Jack. The sisters’ chatter flowed around him pleasantly, rather like the buzz of bees on a summer’s afternoon allowing Vin to push the uncomfortable thoughts away. He watched them interact with each other with interest.

  Francis slipped an arm casually around Eve and she leaned into him. It seemed to Vin the past couple weeks that they were always like that, leaning toward the other as if magnets drew them unconsciously toward the other. Vin watched his brother looking down at his wife as if he couldn’t understand how he’d gotten so lucky. Curious, he observed Jack and Kitty as well. Jack was holding her hand, his thumb caressing the back of it absently. Kitty’s other hand caressed the bulge of her pregnant belly. Normally one wouldn’t find a woman so far along out in public but Kitty, with her bolder American sensibility, didn’t seem to care. Vin had seen Jack touch her stomach repeatedly as well, seen his joy in what was to come.