Chapter 5
Moira hurried through the keep, noting each detail as she passed. The table was laden with food, the smells of roasting pig filling the air.
There was a roaring fire in the massive fireplace, and barrels of ale ready for empty tankards to be filled.
And for those that were not faint of heart, good Scots whiskey was also available.
Moira stopped and drew in a breath, her heart racing.
It was a few days before most of the clans were due to arrive and she was nervous about having them all on her land.
Will had been giving her by-the-minute security reports, so much so that she told him that he could handle it all without her approval.
Her words might have been a bit drastic in nature, but Moira was quite put out with everything else going on, not just the security of their clan.
This was her moment to show that she belonged in this position, that a woman could do it just as well as a man could, and if this gathering went well, Moira knew she would sway the remaining doubters to her side.
Looking down at her gown, Moira gave a little sigh.
The deep blue velvet dress had been Sorcha’s idea, with an artfully draped tartan sash across her body and hiding the deep neckline that had made her a bit nervous showing.
Sorcha had pulled her hair back with two of their ma’s silver combs, some that Fennella had hidden from their da so that he wouldn’t give away everything of their ma’s.
The McPherson brooch was attached to her tartan and by all accounts, she looked like the lady of the keep.
Now it was time for her to act like a laird—the laird that her people needed.
“Are ye ready?”
Moira turned toward her sister, taking in the deep green of Sorcha’s dress, her tartan tied about her waist and falling over her skirts gracefully. “I’m nervous.”
Sorcha touched Moira’s arm, giving her a gentle smile. “Ye should be. I would be worried if ye weren’t.”
“What if I do something tae offend everyone?” Moira asked, her voice a bit desperate. “What if no one comes?”
Sorcha arched a brow. “Do ye really think the Scots are going tae turn down free ale and a good meal? They are out there. I saw the crowd gathering from mah room.”
“Alright then,” Moira stated. “Then let’s open these doors.”
Linking arms with her sister, the two women walked to the door, where two of her guards waited. It was customary for the laird (or lady) of the keep to open the doors herself, signifying her want to welcome her clan to her home.
There were guards stationed throughout the keep, therefore keeping the mass to the great hall, but Moira knew with a clear night such as tonight, most of the crowd would be outside, where great bonfires had already been started and musicians would play long into the night.
Everything was ready, except for her.
Moira straightened her shoulders, releasing her sister’s arm so that she could stride to the door, her hand grasping the iron bar tightly. Would they be able to tell how nervous she was?
Would she survive this night?
It was too late to be having second thoughts. Moira pulled hard on the bar and the heavy wooden door creaked open, a resounding cheer drifting in from beyond the door. Gallantly, she pulled the door all the way open, staring at the large crowd that had gathered. “Welcome to your keep!” she shouted.
Cheers rang down on her as she stepped aside, greeting the first few that had been at the front of the line.
This felt right. After years of her da’s torment, only allowing those that he had strong alliances with into the keep, she was breaking down those barriers.
And by the looks on their faces, everyone agreed it was high time that everyone, young and old, were allowed in the keep that they worked hard for.
An hour passed, then two, and the weight on Moira’s shoulders lifted as she took in the smiling faces around her.
Laughter and music drifted in from the courtyard and the strong smell of free-flowing ale hung heavy in the air.
Even Will had relaxed his stance a bit, imbibing in the whiskey that was available.
More than once Moira was swung about the makeshift dance floor by one clansman or another, her feet aching from the fast-paced rhythm. She noticed that her sister too was enjoying herself, though Sorcha did not fail to touch Moira’s arm as they passed through the crowd.
Making her way outside, Moira felt the cool breath wash over her damp skin, cooling her.
She leaned against the stone wall, knowing she only had a few moments alone before Will would come looking for her to ensure that she was safe.
As much as she liked to melt into the shadows and just be herself for a while, she knew it was wrong to have him worry so.
“Hiding from someone?”
Moira looked to her right, where a handsome Scot was doing the same as she was, his broad shoulders flat against the stone wall. “Pardon?”
He shrugged; his features illuminated by the nearby bonfire. “Ye let out a large sigh. Usually, that means ye are trying tae get away from someone.”
Moira smiled. “What about an entire lot in yer household?”
He chuckled. “Then that would be a mite difficult mah lady.”
Moira pushed away from the wall and came to stand before him. Och, he was a handsome one, with his red hair shorn to his shoulders, a strong jaw dusted with the same color, and piercing green eyes that unabashedly roved over her body, heating her skin.
“Ye aren’t from here.”
He shook his head. “I’ve come for the gathering.”
Moira tamped down her disappointment. He had come to win her hand. Though he had no tartan on, it was easy to see that he was built like a warrior and a handsome one at that. Of course, he had come for the gathering. “I see.”
He pushed away from the wall; his arms crossed over his chest. “So ye are the reason for all the fuss.”
“I’m the laird here,” she stated, drawing to her full height.
There was no disdain in his expression. “Aye, I can see why lass. Ye have some life in yer eyes.”
Moira felt her cheeks flush at his compliment. “Do ye think ’tis wrong for a lass tae be a ruler?”
A slow grin crossed his face and Moira’s breath stilled in her chest. “Nay lass, I dinnae see anything wrong with it.”
Warmth infused through her body. “Ye would be the first.”
His grin didn’t diminish. “Then I feel honored.”
Moira’s heart fluttered in her chest despite her reservations that he was here to win her hand. What clan did he belong to? What were his intentions on winning her hand? He didn’t see anything amiss for her to be ruling, but that didn’t mean he would feel the same once they were wed.
She needed to be careful with quick grins and handsome faces.
“Mah lady!”
Moira turned to find Will panting behind her, his face red from exertion. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, her hand to her throat.
“Nothing,” he stated. “I’ve been searching all over for ye, ’tis all.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she stated, dropping her hand. “I was talking with this man here.”
Will peered over her shoulder, a frown marring his features. “Where?”
Moira turned back to where she had left the Scot, but he was no longer there, the place where he had been occupying now empty. He had slipped away while she was distracted by Will.
She tried not to feel disappointed as she turned her attention back to Will. “Och, well it doesn’t matter.”
Will quirked a grin. “Have ye been sneaking nips of the whiskey, Moira?”
Moira threaded her arm through his. “Not yet but I plan tae do just that. Will ye join mah?”
Will gave her arm a squeeze and pulled her in the direction of the keep. “Sometimes ’tis hard tae remember ye are the lady of this place with a mouth like that.”
Later, after the festivities died down and the keep was emptied of drunken clansmen, Moira climbed the stairs to her chambers, a smile on her face. It wasn’t because the gathering had been nearly perfect.
No, she was thinking about the handsome Scot she had shared a moment with. Who was he?
Would she see him again?
Would he remember her?
Moira felt like a young lass with her first crush.
Shaking her head, Moira pushed open the door to her chambers, finding the fire burning merrily in the fireplace and her fur blankets turned down for the evening.
She made quick work of the dress, sliding into the covers with just her shift on.
The next few days would be hard ones, with everyone coming to the gathering and the weight of her clan on her shoulders.
She would be asked to make sacrifices for the future of her clan, including finding a husband to rule by her side.
As much as she didn’t want to, Moira knew she had to.
Sliding her hand under her cheek, Moira stared into the flames. If her future husband looked like her handsome stranger tonight, she might not mind so much. He had been a nice respite, but his flowery words reminded Moira that she much keep her guard up.
Everyone had an agenda and those that would be coming would as well.