Or there was something holding him back, but Francis couldn’t imagine what it might be that Vin would sacrifice Moira’s reputation for it. By God, he just wanted to pound some sense into his brother before he drove Moira away from him for good, before he lost a savior for his life.
“You think you can talk sense into him?”
“I can try.”
Chapter 36
Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
“Vin…”
“You don’t want to do this, Moira.”
“Of course, I do,” she said brightly to cover her hurt. “Didn’t you know that I’ve been in love with you for years and I never married because of you?”
He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest feeling the sarcasm in her words. “You can’t change my mind, lovey, so don’t try.”
“Do you believe I would ever betray marriage vows with you? Do you truly?”
“I have already found you in another man’s arms this night.”
She shook her head, approaching him to lay a hand on his arms and felt his muscles tense. “What Francis said was true. I only let Harry kiss me like that because he knew you were coming upstairs. You see, I was trying to make you jealous. I wanted you to be jealous enough to fight for me, to keep me as yours and only yours.”
It had worked, he snorted mentally.
“Why would you do that?”
“Can you truly be so blind? I’ve asked myself a thousand times. Can you not see that…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Can you not see that I love you?”
“Just because I made love to you…”
“No, Vin, not just because of that. What Eve said is true. I’ve been in love with you for years…forever.” The words came out easier this time.
“Nonsense, you always thought of me as another brother, just as I thought of you as a sister.”
Moira laughed, resting her forehead against his hard chest and shaking it before she looked up at him. “My God, Vin! In my entire life, I never once thought of you as a brother.”
“But I always thought of you as a sister.”
“Do you now?”
Vin didn’t answer but just looked down at her standing so close to him even though he was angry with her. Even with him denying her, probably hurting her feelings, she still looked up at him with affection, her eyes were bright with it. Was that the love she claimed she’d always had for him shining there? Because her expression didn’t seem any different from a thousand others he’d seen in his life. In previous years, he’d assumed it to be sisterly affection because he had needed it to be. Just as he needed to believe for his own sanity—if not for his life—that all the affection he felt for her was brotherly.
That was the way it had to be for the sake of his friendship with Jason. Vin didn’t believe, despite Richard’s fine example of Jack’s eventual acceptance of his relationship with Abby, that Jason would have ever been so understanding. Jack was a caring brother but Jason was much more impulsive and temperamental than Jack had ever been. Jason would have easily killed him if he’d seen that episode in the hall, especially years ago when he’d been so overprotective of his sister.
It had kept him from thinking too hard about Moira and, if Jason were here today, none of this would ever have happened. Perhaps it was actually Jason’s absence that, not so much allowed his feelings to change, but allowed Vin to act on the ones long buried deep within him.
Did he still look at Moira as a sister? Hell, no!
Still, he couldn’t give her what she wanted and needed after all of this. A part of him wanted to. Though he thought Francis’ first marriage would provide him an excuse through eternity not to wed, he knew deep down Moira would never betray him if they were to wed. Not because of the wedding vows themselves—he still believed too many women were able to set them conveniently aside if it suited them—but because of their lifelong friendship. If for no other reason than that, he knew he could trust in her fidelity.
No, at this point that was nothing but a convenient excuse not to do this terrible thing.
And that kiss with Aylesbury had been meant as nothing more than a means to draw out his jealousy? Had he understood that correctly? Well, it had certainly worked, he reacted to the green monster within him according to their plan but look where it had left him. Trapped between the whims of Society and Moira’s pleading eyes.
He felt his will crumbling, torn between doing what was expected of him and what he knew he had to do to spare them both.
Moira sighed as the stubborn light burned again in Vin’s eyes. “When you asked me years ago why I had never wed, I told you that it was because I loved a man who didn’t know of my love. I couldn’t tell him even when you insisted I should because he was standing right in front of me. A week ago, you asked me the very same thing, and I said I’d never married for love of that same man. I always hoped one day he would come to love me as I did him. Even when I was told he was dead and never coming home, I could not bring myself to wed with another because of my love for him. That man was you, Vin. It’s always been you.” Moira slid her fingers along his jaw and forced him to look at her before adding more sincerely this time, “Didn’t you know that I’ve been in love with you for years and I never married because of you?”
Vin’s heart soared but he quashed the emotion relentlessly. “You don’t love me.”
“I do.”
His heart throbbed painfully at the thought. Looking back over the years, he remembered her always chasing after him and Jason, always following them. However, she begged for their attention equally so there was no help there for him as he forced himself to see it. As a lass on the verge of womanhood, she plied him with her novice flirtation, but she did so with his brothers as well and even Jack. He watched for years as other men courted her and, to him, it seemed she enjoyed their efforts. Though he hadn’t been home often in those years, he couldn’t recall a single moment when it seemed as if she wanted anything more from him than friendship.
Except during that last ball. Moira had seemed especially excited about their waltz and afterward on the balcony, he’d gotten the impression she was hoping he would kiss her. And he’d wanted to do it.
He chalked the moment up to a girlish crush until she’d told him of the man she loved. He’d been jealous then though he hadn’t recognized the emotion at the time. He hadn’t liked the thought of her loving another man. Hadn’t liked the thought of her being hurt by another. But he’d never been given reason to think it was him she yearned for. If she’d loved him, she’d kept it well hidden.
He shook his head, insisting, “You might have then, you were but a lass then and impressionable. But you don’t love me any longer.”
Moira stared into his eyes. “I do.”
“You cannot.”
“Why?” She again made him look at her. “Because you’ve changed so much? Because you’re different than you were before?”
Again, she was so spot on that he cringed. Despite their years of correspondence, she had little idea how the years had truly changed him. He wanted to explain this to her, but she went on, “And because you’ve changed so much, I could not possibly love you any longer?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest watching his face, the emotions flitting across it. “I said why? Do you not enjoy reading any longer?”
“I do but….”
“Philosophy then. Or the opera.”
“Lovey, don’t…”
“Fishing? Riding? Playing golf? You don’t like to play chess any longer?”
“I still enjoy things, but…”
“It’s a philosophical difference then? You’ve become a Methodist, is that it? Or perhaps you no longer believe in God at all? Charitable works no longer interest you? Or, Heaven forbid, you’ve become a Conservative since you left?” Moira shuddered.
If Vin hadn’
t been so upset, he might have laughed at her antics, but he could see she simply wasn’t understanding his point. Even given their interactions over the past two weeks, she still thought nothing had changed. It wasn’t a matter of preference or habit. It was weightier than that…like a constant millstone he was dragging with him until it was likely to crush him. A weight that had nothing to do with who he was but what he had become.
“What has changed exactly? I understand you have had a tragedy in your life and are plagued by demons but that hasn’t changed the man I know you are. I love you because of who you are. Love doesn’t die because of conflict and challenge. It makes it stronger. It made me come to your bedside each night to soothe your troubles, it makes the conversations we share more meaningful.”
If she only knew how much those conversations meant to him, how much he cherished the normalcy talking to her provided. It swept away the past if only briefly. It allowed him to forget for a moment what he wished was gone forever. But the past had an ugly habit of raising its head when least convenient. It hadn’t yet but he could not hide from it forever.
“It doesn’t matter, lovey. I cannot marry you.”
“Cannot or will not?” Moira asked, feeling her heart break a little more.
It was a lost cause. Better to accept now that it would never change, that he would never allow himself to have more from their friendship. Where years before she had waited for the wondering, perhaps it would be good for her to have it done now so she could accept it and move on with her life.
Of course, she would have to ask Francis not to insist on Vin’s acceptance of what everyone else might consider inevitable. She simply couldn’t live with him if he were forced to marry. She wanted him of his own free will.
“Very well, Vin. I will talk to Francis.”
“I will do it.” Vin could see the hurt on her face and suddenly felt as if he was doing the wrong thing but couldn’t convince himself there was any other option. “Will I still have your friendship?”
Moira looked down at the hand he held out to her wishing suddenly she could punch him. How could he even ask such a thing of her when her heart was clearly breaking?
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as she looked up at him and Vin felt them like they were a dagger being driven through his heart. But that pain was nothing compared to what followed when she spoke. “I think we’ve moved beyond that possibility now, don’t you?”
She slipped through the door as Vin’s hand closed around the empty space where she had stood. The pain in his chest burst into anger, not with her but with himself. Bugger the past, his mind bellowed as he turned and punched the wall.
Damn the ghosts that wouldn’t leave him!
The guilt that ravaged him every waking moment and most of his unconscious ones as well!
They were costing him his life in a way the past five years had never managed to do.
Somehow, he had to find a way to banish them so he might truly live again. He couldn’t lose everything for the past. He couldn’t live there any longer. What had suited him for a lifetime would not work for him any longer. He would have to take his chances, purge his soul of the guilt that was drowning him, killing him.
He couldn’t let Moira walk away from him like this without knowing the truth of it all.
Vin would have to take his chances.
And hope.
* * *
Vin left the sitting room to find Jamie leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and one foot bent and propped against the wall. He whistled in amazement when Vin came out, a suggestive leer marring his handsome face. “Guess now I know now you took care of it, eh, big brother? Shagging Moira, are you?”
Vin grabbed his brother by the lapels, pulling him forward before slamming him back against the paneling never considering that his younger sibling was much heavier than he. “Don’t! Don’t ever again use that look when you talk about her, do you understand me? Show her respect.”
“Like you’re doing?” James returned and didn’t have time to dodge the fist that connected with his jaw. He straightened and stared at Vin. “What the fook?”
Vin swung again, this time an uppercut that slammed his brother’s head back against the wall. James wrapped his arms around Vin’s midsection and turned letting Vin feel his back to the wall with enough force to shake the sconces.
“What? You don’t like anyone talking bad about your fair lassie or you’re just itching for a good fight? You’ve been wanting to have a go at the lot of us since you got back, haven’t you? Well, let’s go then, brother!”
Vin felt Jamie’s fist connect with his stomach knocking the wind out of him and gave a mental laugh at himself. Aye, he’d been angry and frustrated with everything and everyone since his return. Angry with them for changing, angry with himself for not staying the same. Angry over how the past was costing him the future.
And he took it all out on Jamie, poor lad.
Vin might have lost the bodily mass he’d once carried, but he met his brother blow for blow. He took hard hits but delivered many that had Jamie staggering. After taking Jamie’s fist to his gut, Vin charged his brother tackling him to the ground, gaining the upper hand. He straddled him delivering another blow to Jamie’s cheek before Jamie tossed him off and dove on top of him to take his turn.
* * *
“You’re shaking the chandeliers below!” Abby’s voice rang out as she pushed between them. “Bloody hell, haven’t I seen enough of this behavior from the lot of you over the years? Ten boys! What was your mother thinking? And nearly every day I catch one or another of you falling on each other like a pack of hounds fighting over table scraps!” The picture of tiny Abby wading between the pair of men and pushing them apart would have made any onlooker laugh. They might have even choked on it when she grabbed them each by the ear, pulling them away from each other grumbling, “Can’t you boys ever just talk things out? Must it always be fisticuffs?”
“Ow, Abby!” James howled, holding his ear.
“And you, Jamie.” She let go, waving a finger at him. “Didn’t I just pull you off Connor a few days ago?”
“Jesu, woman!” James rubbed his ear with a scowl. “Ye ‘bout pulled it off that time.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t fight then.”
“More likely I just shouldn’t fight around you,” he grunted. “You fight dirtier than any of the lads.”
Abby bit back a laugh. “Go, Jamie. Shoo! Go find your Mrs. Ross and ask her to kiss it for you.” As James walked away still rubbing his ear, she turned to Vin who was bent over with his hands on his knees panting heavily. “What were you thinking? He has at least three stone on you right now.”
Vin looked up, wiping the blood trickling from his lip with the back of his hand. “I have no idea what I was thinking.” A wide grin parted his lips then and he chuckled. “Bugger me, but I think now I finally truly feel like I’m a part of this bloody family again.”
Abby stared at her brother-in-law in amazement then threw up her hands.
“Men!”
Chapter 37
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins;
it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The morning had been a long, quiet one in the Glenrothes household with everyone avoiding the other in hopes that the conflict would simply work its way out. Vin had risen late after sleeping like the dead, so exhausted from the night of dancing and fighting even his demons were too fatigued to plague him.
His head was thick and aching, but he knew what he’d have to do and soon. He couldn’t have Moira hate him without giving her a reason to do so. At least then, when it was all out at last, he could walk away from her knowing there wasn’t anything he could do. Moira would be glad to see his back then as he left. Vin knew he would be leaving his soul behind when that happened.
Pacing the drawing room, he wondered where she was. He hadn’t seen her or
anyone else for that matter. He was just thinking that he would have to go in search of her when a gruff, thickly-accented voice broke the silence of the room. “I hear ye dinnae want tae marry my daughter.”
Vin nearly pounded his head against the mantle in frustration. Now?
Bracing himself for the worse, Vin turned and faced Jamie MacKenzie with a grimace. That expression compounded itself when he found Moira’s grandfather, Neill Mercea, standing at his side. The years compounded by the tragic loss of their only male heir had not been kind to the pair. They both looked haggard and tired beyond their years. The marquis even leaned heavily on his cane prompting him to offer them both a seat near the fire.
MacKenzie stood firm, but with a heavy sigh, Mercea hobbled over to a chair and eased himself down. “Come, Jamie. Sit! The lad’s no’ going anywhere.”
With a huff, Moira’s father moved into the room and waited until Vin joined them before he took a seat. Stalling for time, he offered them a glass of whisky. Both accepted and after he poured and delivered their drinks, they sat in the fire’s warmth letting the alcohol seep its own heat into them.
Vin did not know what to say to them. Both had treated him like a son for the better part of his life and he had looked up to them with love since he was a child. He didn’t want to disappoint them any more than he would his own sire. But how could he explain his reasons to them? How could he make them understand why he could not marry Moira?
“Sirs, you know I am very fond of Moira,” Vin began already wincing at the stilted words. “I grew up with her and have always thought of her as a sister.”
“Is that why ye were caught kissing her senseless in the middle of a public ball?” Mercea grunted choking back a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh to Vin though the old man’s expression remained serious.
“Moira is a very beautiful woman,” Vin said carefully. “I have tried very hard to keep our relationship as platonic as possible but sometimes…”
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