by Bree Wolf
For that was what Cormag’s mother wanted. She had made that clear the day she had come to seek Moira out in her home, and now, her words had been final proof that she had pushed and plodded to see her son married.
Even against his will.
Only too well did Moira remember the furious glow in Cormag’s eyes when he too had realised his mother’s intentions in coming upon them with an audience following on her heel. But did he believe that she, Moira, had been complicit? How could he not? After all, she had been the one asking for a kiss!
Slowly, everyone took their leave, their happy voices echoing down the corridor until only Maggie remained. Her blue eyes were watchful, and Moira knew that she had an inkling of what had just transpired.
“For a blushing bride, ye dunna look happy,” the other woman observed, a question in her words.
Moira’s shoulders slumped as she pulled Maggie away from Cormag’s study, afraid to hear his angry voice echo to her ears. “We never…I…” She inhaled a deep breath. “He never asked me to marry him. ‘Twas only a kiss. A kiss goodbye.” Stopping in her tracks, Moira shook her head in disbelief. “What have I done? He’ll never forgive me for this.”
Maggie chuckled, “He mightna forgive his mother, but even that I doubt.” Reaching out, she grasped Moira’s hands. “He loves ye. D’ye not see that?”
“He cares for me,” Moira whispered, remembering the moment he had whispered those words to her. They had touched her deeply, made her hope and yearn; still, they did not mean that he loved her, that he wished to marry her. He liked her. He cared about her. He desired her. That much Moira was certain of, but love?
If Cormag loved her, would he have been so furious when they had been discovered?
Moira doubted it.
33
A Fool for Love
“How dare ye?” Cormag snarled under his breath, struggling to keep his voice low. Never had he felt so close to strangling his mother.
“Come now. Dunna be so verra dramatic,” she chided with an amused chuckle, and Cormag felt like losing his mind. “What happened was hardly my doing.”
Gritting his teeth, Cormag strode to the window, needing a bit of safe distance between himself and his mother. His hands had balled into fists, and he pushed them hard against the stone wall, feeling the rough rock scrape his skin, to keep himself from crashing them through the window.
Only too well did he remember the resigned look on Moira’s face, full of regret and dismay, when she had realised his mother’s intentions in bringing a small crowd to witness their kiss. How on earth had she known? Cormag wondered, knowing with perfect clarity that if he were to ask, she would only laugh, shake her head and speak of something else.
“I dunna see where the problem is,” she spoke out from behind him, a gentler tone to her voice now. “Ye love her, and she loves ye. This should be simple.”
Fighting not to allow his mother’s observation to drag him down a path that would only lead to disappointment, Cormag turned to face her. “Ye had no right to interfere no matter what ye might believe.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, his mother fixed him with an exasperated stare. “I’ve been watching the two of ye do yer best to ignore one another for almost three years.” She threw up her hands, a look of sheer bewilderment on her face. “And for a reason I canna understand nor ever will for there is none, is there?”
“That is none of yer concern,” Cormag hissed. “Ye dunna have the right to make decisions for me…or for her. ‘Tis not yer place.” With his gaze fixed on hers, he stepped closer. “How did ye know, Mother? For ye did, didn’t ye? Ye had yer hands in this, I know it.” There was a slight twitch of her lips, a sense of triumph unable to keep silent. “What did ye do? Did ye…did ye say anything to Moira? She acted strange today, not like herself.”
His mother snorted, “And how would ye know that? Ye rarely speak to the lass, and when ye do, ye dunna say what’s in yer heart. Neither one of ye does.” Anger began to spark in her green eyes. “Ye’re a fool, Cormag. Do ye hear me? A fool. If ye dunna act, she’ll leave, and ye’ll lose her for good.”
Cormag swallowed as fear began to permeate his anger. “’Tis her decision,” he gritted out, then spun on his heel and marched back over to the window, focusing his attention on the green hills in the distance.
“Why did ye kiss her?” his mother asked from behind him. “I know that she asked ye for a kiss, but why did ye do it? Why did ye not simply wish her well and tell her to take care on her journey?”
Tension gripped him, and Cormag felt his head sink forward as though it was suddenly made of lead. He felt the cool windowpane against his forehead, a stark contrast to the heat that coursed through his body.
“What did ye feel in that moment? For it tells ye everything ye need to know.”
Cormag knew what he felt. He knew what he wanted as well. He knew what lived in his heart and mind. He had always known. But life was not as simple as his mother made it out to be. There were other factors to consider, not only his clan, but also Moira. He could not be certain what it was she wanted and…he did not dare ask.
“The moment she first set foot in this place, ye knew she was the one, did ye not?” Placing a hand on his arm, his mother urged him to look at her, her bright green eyes seeking his. “Look at me for I willna leave until ye’ve heard all ye need to hear.”
Steeling himself, Cormag did as she requested, never having known his mother to leave something be. “Verra well. What is it ye think I dunna know?”
A chuckle flew from her lips. “I know ye’ve never placed much stock in the way I see the world, and I’ve always accepted that.” She set her hands onto her hips, and he could see her resolve strengthening. “But I willna stand by and watch ye throw yer life away.”
“Throw my l−?”
“Aye, ye are,” his mother insisted, gripping his arm tighter. “I’m yer mother, and I wish to see ye happy. Ye canna deny that ye need her for that, can ye?”
Cormag’s lips thinned, knowing he could not lie to his mother. She would know. She always did.
“Marry her,” she told him then, her jaw set and her eyes determined. It was not a question, nor was it a request or a suggestion. It was a command, and she expected to be obeyed. “I’ll have the wedding planned within a week. All ye need to do is attend and say the right words.” Her brows rose in challenge, and in that moment, Cormag did not have the strength to fight her for deep down he wanted all that she asked of him.
If only he could be certain it was what Moira wanted as well.
34
For Better or for Worse
From the safety of her home, Moira watched as the whole clan prepared for her wedding.
Almost in a trance, she sat by the window as people hurried up and down the path that led by her cottage. She heard voices shouting and children singing. She watched freshly cut branches carted up the small slope, no doubt upon Maggie’s request, who had taken over decorating the great hall yet again.
On the second day after their fateful kiss, Maeve had paid her a quick visit, informing her when and where she was expected to appear. Outraged over the woman’s callousness in this matter, Moira had yelled at her, demanding an explanation, demanding at the very least an admission of guilt for luring her son into a trap. Maeve, however, had merely chuckled and gone on her merry way, completely unperturbed by her future daughter-in-law’s outburst.
The next day, Moira’s wedding gown had been delivered to her, including a reminder of the when and where of her wedding. As though Moira could ever forget!
The days passed in a blur as Moira continued to look out her window, her heart and mind strangely detached as though she truly had no part in this. And then slowly, as the sun made its way across the sky on the fourth day following their kiss, some things began to register.
People still looked as they made their way past her home the way they always had. Only now, Moira thought to see curiosity rather than suspici
on. And the more she watched, the more she thought to detect a faint shimmer of hope in their eyes. A sense of a new beginning, and the shedding of an old fear. There were sparks of joy here and there, and on occasion even a friendly wave.
Shocked, Moira stood by her window, staring out at the people she had avoided these past three years. Aye, when she had first arrived, they had been displeased to see her, no doubt fearing she would disturb their peace. Moira had never blamed them for it, and so she had simply kept her eyes down and gone about her life, pretending that they were not even there, refusing to see their rejection day in and out.
However, now, she realised that somehow along the way, something had changed.
And hope began to blossom in her heart.
Moira knew that if Cormag had asked for her hand, she would not have refused him. However, he had not, and she feared that he did not truly want her. At least not as his wife.
Still, the very reason because of which Moira had been determined to leave seemed to be dissolving before her very eyes. Perhaps her marrying Cormag would not divide his clan. Perhaps his people had somehow reached a point where they were willing to give her a chance. Perhaps eventually she could be one of them after all.
A new home.
A new family.
A new clan.
And then her gaze drifted over Ian as he lingered a few paces down the path, his ice-cold eyes fixed on her, a snarl on his face as he stood with his feet apart and his arms crossed, like a man readying himself for battle.
Indeed, Ian was the problem. Moira knew that now. In her mind, his rejection, his distrust and suspicion had stood for all the others. She had only ever seen him and assumed, feared that he was but one of many.
Could it be that he was the only one who wished her gone? And if that were so, was it truly a reason for her to leave?
He frightened her, aye! The moment his hands had closed around her throat was imprinted upon her mind, and every time he glared at her, her throat threatened to close yet again.
Still, she could not allow him to intimidate her, to run from the chance to be happy again. Perhaps, there was a way she could…speak to him, make him see that she had no power over Maggie’s heart, that she was not to blame for his loss.
The thought sent a cold shiver down her back, and Moira immediately turned away from the window, sinking into the nearest chair as her knees threatened to buckle. “Not alone,” she whispered, trying to reassure herself. “Not alone.”
Perhaps, Cormag would help her. Of course, he would. He always had. Always had he come to her aid, stood by her side…even against Ian.
Was that not the answer she sought? Or had he merely done so because it had been the right thing to do? Still, Moira remembered well the bond she felt connected them every time he drew near. Did he feel it as well?
The night before her wedding, Moira drifted off into a fitful sleep as all her doubts and fears returned to torment her. She saw distorted faces, their eyes hard and unyielding, the accusation in them brutal and painful. Snarls flew from their lips as hands seized her, dragging her from her bed and out into the cold where she lay shivering, alone and forgotten.
And then she heard Cormag’s voice. I care for ye.
Instantly, her nightmare vanished as though it had never been, and Moira felt herself pulled toward a bright light, a barrier, a threshold to another place and time.
Her muscles tensed as she braced herself for what she would see, for the burden once more placed upon her shoulders, the decision forced upon her.
And then her eyes cleared, and Moira found herself not looking down at another’s life, another’s future, but instead she found herself thrust into her own. She felt herself move, her skin tingling in anticipation as she stepped forward, her eyes gliding over a man who stood with his back to her.
Moira instantly knew it to be Cormag. She knew the breadth of his shoulders. His midnight black hair tied in the back. The tension that had him link his arms behind his back.
Sensing his need, Moira reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, offering the same comfort he had always given her.
And then he turned, a smile on his face and swept her into his arms.
Stunned, Moira clung to him as his lips found hers, kissing her gently as he held her tight against his chest, his heart beating rapidly under the palm of her hand.
The tension she had sensed before vanished, and a joyful lightness engulfed Moira as Cormag carried her to the bed, gently setting her down upon the mattress. He kissed her deeply, and she lay back, feeling the cool sheets against her heated skin.
With a start, Moira shot upright as her dream slowly drifted away, the emotions it had brought lingering deep inside her heart. Panting, she brushed a hand over her face and tried to clear her thoughts, but her heart hammered with such vehemence that she could not calm herself, urging her to hear it.
And then Moira listened, listened to the emotions that lingered, whispering of a beautiful future if only she dared believe, if only she dared reach for it.
Was this a promise? Moira wondered, afraid to hope. Was Fate once more dangling something in front of her, urging her to reach for it only to snatch it away? Did she dare believe that her dream could one day come true?
Moira did not know, but she did know that she wanted Cormag.
And tomorrow, he would be hers.
For better or for worse.
Moira prayed that it would be for better.
35
As One
Cormag knew he ought to have spoken to his mother. More than that. He ought to have spoken to Moira. Cancelled the wedding if she had wanted him to. However, he had not. Instead, he had gone about his business as usual, pretending that his wedding day was not approaching with fast steps. He had not even seen Moira since that fateful kiss, afraid that he would see regret in her eyes.
She had only asked for a kiss, a kiss goodbye, and now, she was trapped here, unable to leave. Thanks to his mother.
And him, he had to admit.
For he could have stopped this wedding. Of course, he could have. But he did not want to. He wanted to marry her. He wanted Moira to be his wife, and so selfishly, he had not said a word.
To her, or anyone else.
He had simply allowed things to run their course.
And now the day had come.
As Cormag stepped into the great hall, his gaze swept not only over the beautiful decorations that were no doubt Maggie’s doing, but also over his people.
For the hall was filled to the rim; men, women and children chatting and laughing, their faces a mirror of joy and hopeful expectation. Garrett and Finn strode toward him, their eyes aglow as they each clasped a hand on his shoulder, offering their congratulations with wide grins.
“Dunna look so worried,” Garrett chided. “Today’s a happy day. If we think so, then ye certainly should.”
“Perhaps ‘tis disbelief,” Finn commented, his green eyes narrowing as he watched him, “that a woman like Moira would accept him.” He chuckled, “I know I felt the same way when I married Emma.”
Garrett nodded in agreement as his eyes travelled across the hall to where Claudia stood, rocking their son in her arms. “We’re lucky men, are we not?”
More nods followed as Cormag continued to stare at his people, his clan. “I never thought they…” His voice drifted off.
“We’re all here to celebrate with ye,” Garrett told him, a deeper meaning swinging in his voice. “With the both of ye. Let the past be the past and start a new chapter today.”
Cormag blinked. “I always thought they’d disapprove. I always thought I couldn’t…because…” Again, his gaze swept over the crowd assembled in the hall.
“Things have changed,” Finn told him, exchanging a glance with Garrett. “We’re not the only ones she’s helped, the ones she’s taken a risk for. We’re happy because of her, and people have noticed. The whispers have changed, have grown hopeful, for no one wants to
doubt and mistrust all the time. People want to feel safe and they want to be happy, and Moira hasna given them any reason to think that she’ll stand in the way of that. On the contrary.”
Cormag swallowed, overwhelmed by what he had thought impossible only the day before. Then he caught sight of Ian, standing in the back of the hall, his blue eyes hard as he glared at him.
Following his gaze, Garrett sighed, “Aye, he’s not come around. Finn’s spoken to him, but…”
“’Tis as though his anger is all he’s got left,” Finn remarked, compassion warming his voice as he looked at his friend with sad eyes. “I wish I could help him, but I dunno how.”
“We’ll figure out a way,” Garrett promised, looking from Finn to Cormag, his green eyes determined as he waited for them to agree. “Together.”
Cormag and Finn nodded. “Aye, together.”
Ian deserved happiness just like the rest of them, and Cormag knew that there would be no peace in his clan if his friend despised the very sight of his new bride. Indeed, even with the distance between them, Cormag felt a sense of betrayal rolling off Ian, and he wondered if there was anything in this world that could persuade Ian to look at Moira with fresh eyes.
If so, Cormag did not know what it was.
But he prayed that they would find out.
And then Moira stepped into the hall, and Cormag saw only her.
Her golden hair flowed freely over her shoulders, gleaming in the bright sunlight, its rays reaching inside the vaulted hall through its many windows and open door. Her dress was a deep azure, a perfect match for those utterly captivating eyes of hers that always sparkled like a lake at midday.
Soft murmurs went through the crowd at her entrance, and Cormag’s heart calmed as the joy and hope his people felt echoed within his own heart. They glanced back and forth between the two of them, and Cormag knew that they wished them well.