How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (16 page)

At least Bari was nowhere to be found. Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

***

“A Fraser for godmother.” The earl didn’t sound pleased. He scowled over his desk at his sons.

“Do nae forget midwife,” Gahan added before turning on Norris. “And what do ye mean by handling Moira roughly?” he demanded of his brother.

Norris grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was nae thinking clearly.”

“No man does when his children are being born,” Lytge said. “At least nae the men in this family. We care for our women. It makes us fools when they are suffering to give us babes.”

“That does nae make me actions acceptable,” Norris admitted. “I owe Lady Matheson an apology.”

“Do nae call her that,” Gahan grumbled.

“Enough, Gahan!” Lytge scolded. “We are nae the ones who put this charade into motion. We must let Bari play out his plan or risk being judged by our other vassals.”

“Nay, Father, I do nae have to stand back and watch.”

“What are ye thinking?” Norris demanded.

“I brought Saer MacLeod here because he’s a witness.”

“To what end, Son?” the earl asked softly. “Take another man’s wife, and there will be trouble.”

“There will be trouble if she remains his wife,” Gahan said.

The earl nodded. “Aye. It is nae a situation that can be solved without consequence.” He drew in a deep breath. “Let us leave it be for the moment. Time can be a very effective elixir, and Bari Fraser is nae a man with much patience.”

Gahan nodded. It was a reprieve, but one that would allow him time to act. He agreed with his sire, but he wasn’t going to wait for Bari to grow tired. No, Gahan was going to press the man until he broke and exposed his true purpose.

***

“Where is me undergown?”

Alanna wrinkled her nose in response. “That was ruined beyond cleaning.”

“It was all I had,” Moira protested and glanced around the star chamber, frowning. “Where are me shoes and stockings?”

“Gone by the mistress’s command,” Asgree said as she entered the chamber with two maids trailing her. Their arms were full of folded garments. “The godmother to the Earl of Sutherland’s heir does nae wear rags.”

The maids shook out the clothes they had brought. There were undergowns and overgowns, and even a newly fashioned dress with skirts and bodice.

“Please sit down so the cobbler may measure yer feet.” Asgree’s request was perfectly polite, but there was a core of strength in her tone that sent Moira onto a stool without protest.

An older man entered and tugged on his cap. A younger man followed him with a wooden box. He set it down and opened it up to reveal measuring sticks and all sorts of tools.

“Ye seem to know a bit of the art of midwifery,” Asgree said.

Moira looked back at the head of house and found her watching the cobbler with a critical eye.

“Aye. On Fraser land, I led a simple life. I learned the arts the rest of the clan girls did.”

“Simple can be useful, it would seem.” Asgree moved to inspect the garments lying out on the bed. The cobbler finished and tugged on his bonnet as he left. The head of house clapped her hands the moment the doors were closed.

Alanna and the other maids began to unlace the fine velvet and lifted it away. She knew it was not hers to keep, and yet she was sad when they took the undergown away, for it had been a delight to feel the silk against her skin.

“The silver one, I think,” Asgree decided, and her staff lifted an undergown the color of moonlight off the bed.

It was the softest linen she’d ever felt, yet it was not thin. The garment settled around her ankles, and she sighed as it warmed her. The laces were on the side, which was quite useful. Most undergowns didn’t have side laces, because the two long sets of eyelets took more work and time to lace. But it would be nice to be able to remove it herself—very nice.

An overgown of wool was next. The fabric was fresh, with no hint of mustiness to suggest it had been stored away. Once it was on Moira, Alanna brought a pair of sleeves and used long ties to secure them at the shoulder.

“This is truly too fine a gift.” Yet she adored it. The tone of her voice betrayed her. In the Highlands, cloth was expensive.

“It seems a fair trade,” Asgree noted. “Since yer clothing was ruined during the birth.”

“Yet mine was nae so fine.”

“Sutherland is blessed to have sheep that produce strong wool,” Asgree offered. “And ye are much the same size as the young laird’s wife. Let’s finish. They will be waiting in the hall for us.”

***

The first meal of the day was always the simplest, but the kitchens were in a flurry as the cook prepared for the evening. The scent of cooking meat teased Moira’s nose as she entered the hall and made her way down the aisle. Achaius spied her and pounded the table.

“There ye be! What mean ye by making the earl wait?”

Moira lowered herself and felt the weight of those filling the lower tables staring at her. No one had waited on her; the meal was half-finished. Achaius was scolding her to impress the earl. Many a husband did the same with their wives, but she still bristled. She bit her lip to contain her displeasure.

“She was being seen to by me daughter-in-law,” Lytge said. “Young Daphne does nae think it fitting that the godmother of her son goes about wearing rags. Raise the lass, man.”

Achaius gestured her forward, and she climbed the stairs on the sides of the platform on which the high table stood to take a seat next to him. She noticed there was room for her at the high table because Gahan was not there. It was just as well; she didn’t need him distracting her at every turn.

Bari sat near the end of the high table. “She was nae wearing rags. We provide well enough for our women,” he insisted.

Several of the Sutherland men sitting at the high table sent him dark looks, but it was Daphne’s brother who turned and smirked at him.

“I’m sorry to hear yer land is worse off than mine,” Saer MacLeod responded. “Perhaps the coming season will be kind to ye.”

Bari growled. Achaius pounded the table again. “Enough about me wife. We’re thankful for the gift from the countess. She’ll wear it tonight for the celebration. Right fine of yer daughter-in-law to have that baby while we’re here. It will provide me the opportunity to linger another day. At my age, ye must take the chances to be merry when they come.”

Moira felt herself caught between the calculating looks of Saer, Bari, Norris, and the earl, and she looked down at her food. She’d been hungry, but her appetite had vanished, replaced with the tension lingering at the head table.

Your
real
problem
is
that
Gahan
is
missing…

That much was true.

Moira tried to look pleasant and pick at her food, but not knowing where Gahan was made her glance over her shoulder every few minutes, so she excused herself and made her way to the stables.

Athena was restless, crying at Moira and refusing to stand still. Moira ruefully noted that the only person who would notice her absence was Gahan, so she saddled her mare and left Dunrobin, looking for a place to let the hawk fly.

She had to ride away from Dunrobin to find ground that wasn’t being broken for crops. She rode to the rocky high ground and gave Athena her freedom. The hawk let out a cry as she took flight. Someone had already fed her, but it was in the bird’s nature to hunt. She soared on the morning breeze, looking for prey.

Moira took the opportunity to walk. The open ground ended at a forest. The trees were thick, but Moira wandered among them to cut the climbing afternoon sun. Water rushed by somewhere, and snow still sat in clumps where the thick branches shielded it from the sun. For the first time since Bari had informed her that she was getting married, she was at ease.

There was also no one to criticize her or suspect her of wrongdoing, and no one to tell her not to admit she preferred Gahan over Achaius.

She laughed softly at herself. It was an unfair comparison at best. Gahan was in his prime, and Achaius had bid farewell to that time decades past. Yet it was more than his physical attributes which made him superior. Achaius was a self-serving man, while Gahan had honor.

Athena cried, and Moira shielded her eyes to look for the bird. A second cry came as another hawk appeared in the sky. The birds began to circle each other, spiraling closer and closer together.

“Hawks are more honest than humans.”

She jumped, whirling to face her company. Gahan was watching the hawks, a leather gauntlet protecting his hand. He leaned against a tree and looked at Moira, his gaze slowly slipping down her length.

“The hawks are nae concerned about what anyone thinks. They will mate if the courtship goes well,” he continued.

“We have hardly had a courtship.” Moira had no idea what she was saying. It made no sense, and yet it felt like she was finally speaking the truth.

Gahan flashed her a grin. “We’ve circled each other, tested each other, judged the strength of the other…” He pushed away from the tree and closed the distance between them. “Just like our feathered friends up there are doing.”

As he approached, every inch of her skin became sensitive. He didn’t stop until he was an arm’s length away, making her look up to make eye contact. She felt breathless, her heart accelerating just from his nearness. No, it was because he was looking at her like she was something he wanted to taste.

She wanted a taste, too.

“So my question is, sweet Moira, since I have made sure to sneak away and will likely catch hell for it from Cam, do ye want to give me a chance to court yer submission?”

She realized with a start that he was saying he’d sneaked away specifically to court her. He’d previously overwhelmed her, but now he was asking. There was a sweetness to him she never would have guessed existed. It was so tempting to believe that, even though she was suspicious that was he still just manipulating her.

“Ye will catch hell. That captain of yers is nae a fool.”

Gahan shrugged. “He’s me half brother. So, aye, I agree with ye. He will have naught good to say of me taking the opportunity to be alone with ye.” His features darkened as he looked past her to the tops of Dunrobin’s towers in the distance. “When I saw ye ride out, I wanted to give Achaius hell for letting ye stray so far, but the honest truth is, I recognized it as the chance to be alone with ye. So I am guilty and unrepentant.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. She shivered, moving away, but she didn’t jerk. Instead, she took a few steps away and looked back over her shoulder at him. Excitement was threatening to make her giggle, so she moved a few more steps away to try and control her emotions. Of course, when it came to Gahan, there was no such thing as control.

“I do nae think we have ever truly been alone,” she said.

He followed her with a lazy pace. “Last night we were. Yet it was a stolen moment. Too quickly finished.”

Her cheeks heated, and she looked away from him, searching for her self-discipline. He caught up to her and cupped her chin, turning her gently around to face him. It felt so right to be wrapped in his embrace, as though she’d been longing for it since he left her.

“This is no different,” she said.

He reached up to gently rub the nape of her neck. “Because ye are going to be leaving soon?”

She bit her lip. “Of course.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering before breaking their embrace just long enough to let her nipples pucker. “I would show ye the difference, Moira.” He stepped back and offered her his hand. “Come with me. Come, because ye know ye are nae Achaius’s wife.”

“Because I want to be yer lover?” she questioned softly.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing.

She knew she shouldn’t, but it felt wrong to refuse. Like she was lying to herself. The hawks were still circling above and would be for hours. It seemed Athena had the right idea.

She placed her hand in his, and satisfaction filled his eyes. He turned and began to lead her deeper into the forest. The sunlight filtered through the trees, and the birds called to one another.

A stone house came into view, the walls made of smooth rocks from the river. There was a huge water wheel on the side of it, waiting for the harvest and the grinding of flour.

“No one will bother us here,” he said.

Gahan opened the door and pulled her inside. He slid the bar across the door and winked at her as he took the long sword off his back and laid it near the door.

“I doubt we are the only couple who finds this a good place to spend an afternoon,” he offered in a wicked tone.

Suddenly shy, she took a hesitant step away from him and looked around the mill. There was a large grinding stone with gear shafts that ran through the wall to the wheel. Large levers were set into the wall for lowering the wheel. It would take at least four strong men to operate it. Long tables lined the walls. There was a stack of empty sacks on one, waiting for the next season’s grinding.

“Come here, Moira.” His tone was soft and inviting.

But when she looked at him, she shook her head and bit her lower lip.

He pulled on the fingers of his gauntlet and set it aside on one of the tables. She expected him to disrobe, but he crossed his arms and considered her first. His silence prompted her more than a probing question might have.

“I just realized that I do nae know ye at all.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “So ye wonder if ye are a fool for trusting me?”

“I know I am a fool.” It was an admission, a confession that came from her heart. “I should be trying to catch me husband’s eye, but…”

“But he leaves ye cold?”

She sighed. “Ye are being overly naughty, Gahan Sutherland. Have ye no shame?”

He had only been toying with her, letting her think she had left him behind. With a burst of speed, he captured her once more and began pulling the pins from her hair.

“Shame? Nay, Moira, I have naught when it comes to ye.” He combed his hands through her hair, freeing it of the braid. He gathered it up and lifted it in a bundle and buried his face in it, drawing a deep breath.