Chapter 8
Tavin stood in the barn doorway the next morning, watching as the clans passed one by one, their wagons loaded down with supplies for their stay on McPherson land.
From what the villagers had shared, the meeting spot was away from the keep for a number of reasons, but most importantly so the keep would be safe during the gathering.
According to some loose-lipped warriors in the tavern the previous evening, the plan was simple. The clans would be out on an old battlefield, positioned so that any enemies were not together to keep from bloodshed being spilled.
There would be a line of warriors along the perimeter, with another between the clans and the keep, so that any clansmen that thought they could overtake the keep while they were in attendance would be stopped.
The warrior had gone on to say that while the Mcpherson family would attend the festivities, they would not be staying amongst the clans.
It seemed that Moira and her guard had thought of everything, except the fact that their warriors wagged their tongues when they imbibed in too much ale.
Tavin turned away from the proceedings and walked into the village instead, his thoughts churning.
It was the perfect plan to go along with his own.
With the guards focused on the threats coming from the gathering, they would not think that someone would attack the keep from within the village.
After a few sharing of words with Will, he imagined that the second-in-command had thought of that already, but the guards would be scarce, meaning they could overpower those that remained easily and help themselves to the keep and the supplies in the outbuilding behind the keep.
Tavin had already found the cache of ale and whiskey, unguarded and ready for transport inside one of the outbuildings.
If his da wanted to turn a coin quickly, that was what they needed to take.
It wouldn’t be all, of course. He knew he needed to get himself inside that keep to look for the coin that Moira was spending on the repairs and had a good idea of where he could look.
He just needed time to do so.
At least when they did take items, Tavin knew that Moira would not be in residence. The thought had bothered him since he had been around her the day prior, half wanting to see her again. It wasn’t a good feeling given that his family was going to steal from hers the moment he saw an opportunity.
“Stuart!”
Tavin froze as he heard his surname, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he turned. A man was approaching him rapidly, a snarl on his face, and Tavin knew without a doubt that he knew who he was.
Shite.
Whirling around, Tavin moved into the shadows of the huts, keeping his head low as he moved through the huts, his boots sinking into the mud. He could not be found out now. It would mean he would have to abandon his plans and he did not know how his da would react to losing such a hefty load.
“I know yer back here, ye traitor.”
Tavin moved to the next hut, the shadows longer behind the huts due to the position of the sun overhead.
If he could just get to the cluster of huts before him, he could lose the man on his hunt.
Finally, he spied an opening when another caravan passed by the village, the crowds coming out to watch.
Tavin sprinted toward the crowd, blending in with the villagers as he moved through them, his hand still on his sword.
He would not hesitate to gut his follower if there was a need.
For the moment that word got out that a Stuart was here, Tavin knew he would have to leave.
Inwardly he wondered what Moira would say if she knew who he truly was. Had she heard the whispers? There weren’t many who hadn’t.
He didn’t want to see the disdain in her eyes when she learned the truth, which was why he had to be careful around her as well as how much time he spent in her presence.
Speaking of Moira, Tavin spied her walking along the perimeter of the village before scooting through the crowd. She was dressed in plain clothing with a hood pulled up over her head, but he would recognize her anywhere.
Tavin glanced back and did not see the follower, letting out a breath before he followed her, sticking to the shadows so she would not see him. Where was she going, and without her guards?
It was likely Will did not know.
Tavin followed her through a broken opening in the stone wall, heading toward the wooded area he had spied in his own review of the land. When she stopped, he froze, searching for a place to hide and settling for an outcropping of rock that shielded his body.
She continued on and Tavin loosened a breath, sliding from behind the rock and carefully following her down the path. He shouldn’t, he knew that, but he was drawn to her and couldn’t make his feet turn him around.
Moira reached the first tree and turned so quickly he didn’t have time to hide. “You.”
“Mah lady,” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where are yer guards?”
She stalked toward him, throwing back her hood. “Why are ye following me?”
He quirked a grin. “’Tis interesting tae see the lady of the keep sneak out of her own home.
I had tae find out what was so important tae do so.
” Plus, there were all sorts of Scots roaming the lands now that the clans were starting to arrive.
Some of them might not realize that she was their equal and could try to take advantage of her.
Why that bothered him so much, Tavin didn’t know, but he was starting to understand how a Scot panted after a woman he wanted.
Unfortunately, the one he wanted was the very one he was sent to destroy. “I hope ye brought a weapon.”
She pulled a dagger out of her holster hidden in her skirts, holding it up for his inspection. “I dinnae come unprepared.”
He took a step forward, the sun glinting off the blade. It was a right fine dagger, but not meant to defend one’s life. “Ye do understand that the dagger will only make a man mad, lass.”
She palmed it, a wicked smile on her lips before crouching low before him. “Come then Tavin. See if I cannae take ye down.”
Surprised, Tavin unstrapped his own sword, carefully laying it on the ground. He had no interest in a sword fight with her. It was far too dangerous and he did not wish to hurt her in this play between them. “Dinnae go for mah face, lass. I need that tae charm the lasses.”
Her eyes narrowed and he saw a spurt of anger thread through them. “Ye shouldnae be so full of yerself Tavin.”
Tavin shrugged, plastering on an easy smile. “’Tis hard tae do so.”
She beckoned him closer and he stalked her, moving her around in a slow circle while looking for the perfect opportunity.
Hand combat was an art, nearly like dancing.
One wrong move and one could find a dagger to their gut before they had a chance to blink.
Tavin’s own skin was full of nicks and cuts from sparring with his own brothers over the years to be worried about what damage she might do.
More than that, he was curious to see what Moira had learned. He had heard that her da had been ruthless in his own fighting, as well as her brothers. Had that instruction extended to her as well?
Finally, he saw an opening and lunged for her, only to find that she had already spun out of his grasp, her long hair flying behind her. “Guid,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Ye move fast lass.”
She smiled. “Because of that, I willnae mark yer handsome face Tavin.”
He cocked a brow. “Ye think I’m handsome lass?”
The blush stole across her cheeks. “Aye, I mean, yer passable.”
Chuckling, Tavin beckoned her this time, her compliment warming him far more than he cared to admit. “Come lass, let me see those freckles of yers closer.”
“I dinnae have freckles,” she answered, her smile fading. “Next time ye mention them, I will run this dagger through ye.”
“Och ye wound me,” he responded, crooking his finger. “Come, dinnae be afraid Moira.”
Tavin anticipated her move before she even took two steps, grabbing her about the waist and pulling her close, the dagger falling harmless to the ground.
“Dinnae make your decisions in yer eyes lass,” he said near her ear, feeling the curve of her arse pressed up against his raging length. “That will get ye killed.”
“I did not,” she said breathlessly. “A misstep.”
“Perhaps,” he answered, his hand splayed over her abdomen. She felt soft in his arms and his body stirred in response. When had he last held a woman so? “We will call it a draw then.”
Her breath hitched. “Why did ye follow me, Tavin?”
He didn’t want to answer her with the truth. That would only complicate things when the time came for him to betray her. “I wanted to.”
She pushed out of his arms, spinning around to face him. Tavin noted that she had put a good amount of distance between them and he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or pleased that he bothered her like that. “Why?”
Tavin took a step closer. “Because ye are a bonnie lass and I cannae stay away.” It was true. He couldn’t stay away, no matter what happened. She made him feel normal, like he wasn’t part of a clan that was labeled a traitor and full of revenge.
She was everything he wanted to be, everything he had ever wished for in life.
She was untouchable, far too good for the likes of him and his family’s ruin.
Not that he planned to have her as his own. He was not here to find a wife, but to rob her blind.
Moira picked up her dagger and placed it in the sheath, pulling up her hood in the process. “Tonight,” she stated, “the village will celebrate the impending gathering. Will ye be there?”
“If ye wish,” Tavin stated, inclining his head. He was asking for trouble, but he didn’t care. “Will ye?”
She smirked. “Of course. ’Tis mah village after all.”
It was and he should remember that fact. “Then I will be as well.”
Moira dipped her chin in his direction before starting back to the keep, leaving Tavin standing in the field, watching her go.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, but she was no longer in his sight when he finally located his sword and buckled it back around his waist, thrusting his hands through his hair.
He hadn’t anticipated liking the lass, but the last few times he had been around her, he had enjoyed himself.
“Remember,” he muttered as he set off toward the village once more. He had to remember that while she had her mission, he did as well. She would find a husband at the gathering and they would handfast before the week was out, solidifying her future and that of her clan’s.
Tavin, on the other hand, would be the one that robbed her blind, left her wondering who had gotten close enough during such an important time, to take her valuables.
And when he rode away with his hoard, he knew that she would be on his mind, the guilt heavy on his heart.