Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Moira closed her eyes as the words swept though her. She almost couldn’t believe she’d heard them correctly. All the hopes and dreams of a lifetime came alive with those words. Weeks of conflict in her heart, torn between hope and certainty that it was all for naught. Despite everyone else’s convictions, she’d never been certain she would hear them from Vin. “As a friend?”

  “Aye,” he answered and Moira winced, but he continued. “As a friend, as a lover…as the keeper of my heart. Lovey, look at me.” Moira opened her eyes and looked up into his seeing all the love she’d ever hoped to see shiny there in his chocolaty gaze. “I have loved you my entire life, I think you know that, but these past weeks have made me see something that might have always been there if I hadn’t been too stubborn to see it and recognize it. It is something I just realized the other day, in fact. There is a difference between loving someone and being in love. And, lovey, I am so in love with you. I beg your forgiveness for being too much of an ass to see it before.”

  Moira blinked up at him, thinking ironically that it was her turn to be the disbelieving one. Perhaps when one’s dreams all came true, it took a moment for the reality to sink in.

  Vin didn’t know how to interpret her silence. “You told me the other night that you have loved me for years, lovey. But, if I recall correctly, you didn’t say the words either. Do you love me still? Or am I too late?”

  Moira reached up and rubbed her palm against his smooth cheek before sinking her fingers into his hair. “I’ve been waiting a score of years for you, Vin. I even waited when I thought you were dead and I probably would have waited my entire life through as well. You’re not too late. You could never be too late. I think perhaps I might be a little dazed from your confession. Do you truly love me?”

  Cupping her cheeks, Vin kissed her ever so softly. “Look in my eyes, lovey. What do you see? More love than I ever imagined I could feel should be there for you to see.”

  Moira searched his gaze, seeing the warmth and the love there and released a shaky breath. “Oh, Vin! I always dreamed but never really thought…” With a laugh, she slid her arms around his neck and hugged him to her. “I love you, Vin,” she whispered in his ear. “For my entire life, there has never been another but you.”

  “Ah, lovey!” Vin kissed her cheek and then her lips, capturing them tenderly with his, lingering for a long while pouring all the love he felt into that moment. The flames caught then and suddenly an inferno raged through him. Vin clasped her to him deepening the kiss, using his hands to tilt her head farther to the side so he could thoroughly ravage her mouth.

  With a moan, Moira pressed herself to him, giving herself over completely until Vin’s kiss softened once more. The kiss slowed then their lips parted.

  “I’d like to finish that but I think…I hope we have something we need to do first.” Vin dropped to one knee before Moira, taking her hand in his and asked properly this time. “Moira MacKenzie, I love you so dearly. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  “Yes, Vin, I will,” Moira answered, pressing a hand to her wildly beating heart. “I love you so much!”

  Vin caught her about the waist once more as he rose and kissed her again with a groan of surrender. Her arms wound around his neck as she pulled him close, knowing she was never going to let him go again.

  “What’s going on here, son?” MacKenzie’s voice boomed, making the pair leap apart in surprise. “are ye going to wed wi’ my daughter or not?”

  Vin grinned down at Moira and she smiled back at him with love in her eyes.

  “Aye, sir, I am!”

  Epilogue

  The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved;

  loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.

  - Victor Hugo

  Haddington House

  Edinburgh, Scotland

  April 1893

  “Are you happy, lovey?”

  “Serenely.”

  “Supremely?”

  “Sublimely.”

  They shared a comfortable laugh as they waltzed slowly around the dance floor. It was spring. The Season was in full swing and tonight they were at the Haddington townhouse on Carlton Terrace celebrating the birth of Jack and Kitty’s son, Montgomery. It was a ‘small’ family affair. Just the nearly thirty members of the MacKintosh and Merrill families along with Maggie Preston, Eve and Kitty’s mother and that Aylesbury fellow. Vin wasn’t sure why the marquis been invited other than Moira and Richard considered him a close family friend. Vin though was insanely aware that the fellow desired Moira at one time physically and felt undeniable jealousy and rage every time the marquis looked at his wife.

  His wife. Vin looked at her with a smile.

  Moira returned it laughing happily as he swung her around. They’d been married for almost two months now and, if it were possible, Moira thought they were happier than she’d ever imagined they could be…and she’d imagined a pretty blissful life. Vin had regained his former good health thanks to Sung Li’s continued efforts and hadn’t been subject to a single nightmare in all the nights Moira had slept by his side. Vin was finally able to put the past behind him and focus only on the future.

  In two days, they would leave Edinburgh to travel to Old Klebreck Tower to visit her father and grandfather for a while before they went to England. There they would live at King’s Retreat, Vin’s new estate, and begin their married life together. Vin thought he might like to raise horses instead of farming and Moira was sure they would enjoy their time as newlyweds there.

  She would miss her friends, of course, but they would visit often.

  The quartet playing for the dozen couples finished the waltz and Vin took Moira’s arm leading her out to the terrace. The moon shined brightly down upon them, a soft wind played through the trees. With the stars overhead and the music drifting over them from inside, it was a magical evening. Looking down into Moira’s radiant face, Vin felt that magic wash over him as it did every time he looked at her. For a man who hadn’t thought for years he didn’t deserve happiness, Vin had found bliss in spades.

  Tenderly, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and bent to kiss her, brushing his lips ever so lightly across hers. Feeling the poignancy in the moment, Moira blinked up at her husband. “What is it, Vin?”

  “I’m just finally giving you the kiss I should have six years ago,” he told her. “I can’t believe I was ever such a fool not to know I loved you even then.”

  Moira smiled impishly. “Neither can I.”

  Vin laughed and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her more enthusiastically.

  “All the love in this house is making me ill,” Jamie’s voice broke the spell that bound them. The couple parted to find James lounging against the balustrade at the other end of the terrace watching them with a drink in his hand.

  “You should try it, Jamie,” Vin chuckled, feeling that the joy in his heart was something his brother might someday appreciate if he were to allow himself the luxury. “It’s not as bad as you might think.”

  “Ha! Causes more problems than it’s worth, I say!”

  Moira and Vin shared an amused look. “Women trouble, brother?” Vin asked.

  “I don’t have troubles with women in general,” James corrected.

  “Ah, so there is one in particular you have in mind?”

  James looked off into the distance and heaved what Vin might describe as a desolate sigh. “Aye, one aggravating woman.”

  Vin was about to over a comment when Fiona came storming out of the garden. Her color was high and her green eyes snapping with fury as she lifted her skirts high to run past them into the house, but at the door she turned and yelled back to the gardens. “You’ll be sorry, Harry Brudenall! You’ve had your chance! I’m done with you now!”

  Staring after her in surprise, the trio on the terrace turned back to the garden to see Aylesbury emerging from the foliage. His face was beet red except for the stark white handprint that stoo
d out on his cheek.

  “Harry!” Moira exclaimed. “Did you..?”

  “No!” Harry growled. “She did!”

  “Ha!” James snorted and met Harry’s eye as they nodded at each other in complete agreement and said in unison. “Women!”

  London, England

  Late spring 1895

  “Good evening, ladies. You seem to be enjoying yourselves tonight.”

  Fiona closed her eyes with a groan, easily recognizing the deep voice behind her.

  “Good evening, Lord Aylesbury!” Ilona exclaimed as she turned, holding out her hand in greeting. “What a pleasure to see you here this evening!”

  Aylesbury kissed Ilona’s hand and released it before they both turned to Fiona expectantly. Fiona resolutely kept her hands to herself and only offered a stiff nod, praying for strength and mercy. Could Aylesbury have caught her in a weaker moment?

  Her sister-in-law tsked lightly but tried to cover Fiona’s open rudeness with a broad smile to downplay the fact that Fiona had just openly cut a marquis of the realm. “It’s a lovely ball, isn’t it, my lord? Are you having a fine time of it as well?”

  “A fine time, indeed,” Aylesbury responded with a nod, rocking back on his heels as he studied Fiona intently. His gaze traveled a slow path from head to toe leaving tingling awareness in its wake. “In fact, I was just thinking that the only thing that could possibly make the night any better would be a dance with Lady Fiona.”

  “I’m sure she would love that!” Ilona gushed, looking eagerly up at Fiona.

  “What say you, Lady Fiona? Might I have this dance?” Aylesbury asked with a dashing bow and an equally charming grin as he held out his hand. Fiona merely glared at him, though it was all she could do not to cross her arms over her chest with a humph of disdain.

  “My dance card is full,” she said curtly.

  “Fiona!” Ilona chided, wide-eyed before turning back to the marquis. “She would love to dance with you.”

  “No, I would not,” Fiona contradicted.

  “Fiona Blosson!” Ilona exclaimed with open astonishment.

  Fiona said nothing more, but simply glared stonily at the marquis, silently wishing him away. Obstinate, unmovable man that he was, Aylesbury only waited patiently with an annoyingly tolerant smile.

  “Don’t be rude! Dance with him!” Ilona hissed under her breath but Fiona only shook her head jerkily. “Dance with him!” Ilona again insisted, giving the tender flesh above Fiona’s elbow a little pinch.

  “Oh, very well!” Fiona huffed.

  “You honor me with your enthusiastic acceptance,” Aylesbury said with only a trace of sarcasm.

  Taking Fiona’s arm firmly as if he anticipated either fight or flight, the marquis led her to the perimeter of the dance floor where other partnered pairs were gathering. As the music began, Aylesbury allowed her only a moment to loop her train over her wrist before he took her in his arms, his hand snug at her waist, drawing her close.

  “Not so tight,” Fiona hissed as he began to move her across the floor. Aylesbury just pulled her closer until her breasts brushed across his chest as they dipped and rotated in time to the music. Only then did Fiona realize that the dance was a Venetian waltz, quite possibly her most favored and romanticized dance. A dance that, years ago, had Aylesbury waltzing her through all her daydreams with a roguish grin.

  Gritting her teeth with the determination to remain unyielding in his embrace now, Fiona stiffly followed the marquis’s lead into the twirling dance, endeavoring almost impossibly not to enjoy herself as Aylesbury was a wonderful dance partner, not only because he was practiced in the steps but because he seemed to truly enjoy it as well.

  Fiona remembered that much clearly though they had only danced together once before, a lively polonaise during the welcome home ball that had been held for her brother Vin when he returned from Egypt. After that night, Aylesbury had never again asked her… though she also recalled spending a humiliating amount of effort hinting for him to do so. Instead, he had lavished his dances on the wallflowers, which Abby insisted had long been his habit. It had been difficult to be angry with him when he focused his efforts so cheerfully on those deserving young ladies but she had managed it even so.

  Never beyond those wistful imaginings had Harry Brudenall held her so snuggly in his arms or turned her so dizzyingly that she longed to cling to him, to close her eyes and relish the warmth of his body pressed so close to hers. That he chose to do so now when it was the last thing she wanted only served to stir up that old anger again.

  “You look lovely tonight, Fiona,” he whispered huskily in her ear.

  “What are you doing, Harry?”

  “Ah, finally we’re on a first name basis once again,” he responded with one of those irresistible grins that had a tendency to melt her resolve, but Fiona clung to her antagonism firmly, determined to resist him now.

  “We are not on a first name basis, Lord Aylesbury,” she snapped. “Nor shall we ever be. Now I want to know what you think you’re about appearing out of no where everywhere I go, being so nice and courteous and… and…”

  “Flirtaceous?” he supplied. “Complimentary? Attentive?”

  “Yes, all of that. What are you about?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, my dear?” he said silkily, bending his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m courting you.”

  Fiona drew back in his arms. “You are not!”

  “But I am,” he said with a smile. “Though I must be doing a poor job if you could not ascertain my purpose. I shall endeavor to improve my performance.”

  “Lord Aylesbury, you’ve done so much courting in your life that I’m quite certain you could manage a bang up job of it from a solitary cell in Bedlam with nothing more than a handful of weeds and an imaginary hat to aid you but what I meant was no, as in no you are not courting me. I do not wish it, nor will I permit it,” she finished bluntly.

  “I believe there may have been a compliment in there somewhere,” Aylesbury said with another smile as he whirled her around the perimeter of the room once more. “But I will not be dissuaded. You see, meeting you again has brought joy to my heart, Fiona. A joy I had forgotten life could give. A joy I had nearly forgotten you could give.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Fiona snapped. “That isn’t how I remember it at all.”

  “How do you remember it?”

  “I remember you calling me a spoiled brat,” she said, unable to completely suppress the hurt in her voice. “I remember you telling me to run off like a good little lass and play with my dolls.”

  “I apologize. I did say all that,” he admitted. “But only for my own self-preservation.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You really don’t know, do you? You don’t know how hard it was?” Aylesbury smiled down at her with a shake of his head. “I suppose it was better that way. If you had known, I cannot imagine what lengths you would have gone through to try my sanity.”

  Fiona had no idea what he meant but she refused to allow one iota of confusion pave the way for another broken heart. “You are making no sense at all.” Fiona turned her gaze away from his, determined to watch the other dancers rather than him. “Let’s just get through this dance and be done with one another for good.”

  “I have no intention of being done with you, Fiona. In fact, I intend to make up for the shabby way I once treated you,” he assured her firmly. “And I will begin with waltzes, flowers and walks in the park, my dear. Because I do intend to court you properly now when I could not before.”

  “Could not?” Fiona scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean? You weren’t unable to do so, you just didn’t want to. It was as simple as that!”

  “No it was not that simple,” Aylesbury countered tightly, his impatience flaring at her intractability. “What would you have had me do back then? Hmm? You were practically a child!”

  “You didn’t kiss me like one!” Fiona retorted loudly, drawing the curious
glances of the couples around them but Aylesbury only tossed them a careless grin before returning his gaze to her more seriously.

  “No, I kissed you like the torment you were,” he bit out. “I kissed you with all the frustration that had been building in me since the day I met you.”

  “That’s what it was? Frustration? How very complimentary.”

  “Rather,” Aylesbury said, his tone softening then. “I shouldn’t have done it at any rate. My heart, mind and body were all in contradiction at that time but never doubt, Fiona, that I wanted you then as I want you now.”

  “No!” Fiona shook her head, denying his words even while her chest tightened painfully. “Don’t do that, Harry! You haven’t the right to come back into my life now when I’m finally happy again and ruin it for me.”

  “Are you truly so happy?”

  “Aye, I am. I don’t need you anymore.”

  “What if I were to say that I need you?”

  It was a gently phrased question yet utterly heartrending in its impact. Fiona knew that the shock that stole her breath and froze her heart also widened her eyes incredulously. Then straight away, her pulse tore off at a gallop, trampling a wide swath of wild exhilaration but Fiona reined it in mercilessly. She was not a child any longer. A child who tossed her affections away willy-nilly and waited with bated breath for them to be returned. Lessons hard learned were also the hardest to forget. “No.”

  “Fiona, I…”

  “No!” Not waiting to hear anything more, Fiona stepped out of Aylesbury’s arms mid-turn and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. Whispers and giggles followed her as she worked her way through the crowd and out of the ballroom until she was nearly running down the stairs to the foyer below.

  Within seconds she was out the front doors of the Belgrave Square townhouse with the dismayed cries of the footman trailing behind her and across the street into the park before she stopped to catch her breath. The voices and music from the ball faded away until all she could hear was the blood pounding in her veins. Blissful darkness surrounded her, hiding the tears that splashed onto her cheeks… reminding her of another night when Harry Brudenall had sent her running into the darkness with her tears warring with her anger.