Chapter 9
That night, Moira dressed in plain clothes instead of the gowns she wore when she met with her clan. Tonight, she wanted to be just another woman amongst her friends and family, and not their leader. Tomorrow she would have to be the lady they expected her to be, but that was tomorrow.
Besides, she wanted a certain someone to see her not as the woman she was trying to be but the woman she was.
Moira finished plaiting her hair and stared at herself in the mirror, noting the high color of her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.
It was because of Tavin. There was no other explanation.
Their little interlude in the field today had quite honestly been the most fun she had experienced since she had moved to this position.
And when he had held her close, she had felt his need. He wanted her, as a man would want a woman.
Had she really told him he was handsome?
Moira groaned and placed her face to her hand. The words had come out far too easily when he was teasing her. The Scot sure loved compliments!
Grabbing her dagger, she sheathed it in the special pocket that was sewn into her dresses and pulled her chamber door open.
The hallway was empty as she stole down the stairs, the faint sounds of the reverie already underway in the village.
Moira was looking forward to a night of not being herself, even though everyone would know who she was.
She was safe amongst her clan and once they all imbibed on ale that the keep was providing, no one would care that she was their laird.
A night to be Moira. That was what she desperately wished for.
“Mah lady.”
Her shoulders slumped as Moira turned to find Will standing nearby, his arms crossed over his chest. “What is it Will?”
“Are ye going tae the village?” he asked lightly, though there was an undercurrent of anger in his voice.
“I am,” she answered, straightening her shoulders. “And I do not wish tae have any guards tonight.”
“Mah lady,” Will said again, dropping his arms. “Ye cannae go traipsing around the village any longer. Ye are their laird and whether ye believe it or not, yer life is always in danger.”
“I’m well aware of that,” she said. “And I will be careful.”
“No,” Will stated, his face hard. “I cannae allow ye tae go.”
Moira closed the distance between them, taking his scarred hands in hers. He had been her sister’s right-hand man when she was stealing from their own da to feed their clan and she trusted him more than anyone in her life.
But she needed this. “Please,” she said softly, searching his hard expression for an ounce of warmth.
“I dinnae ask for anything, Will. I have sat through the meetings. I have listened tae the disputes until I thought mah ears were going tae bleed. Tomorrow I will begin the search for mah husband and chances like this will cease tae exist. Please give me this boon.” Moira hadn’t wanted to beg him, but she would if it meant that he would let her go.
“Yer no longer a young girl,” he replied. “Remember that. Ye are our queen. These people, they depend on ye.”
“I know,” she said urgently. “No more than an hour’s time, please. Ye can send the guards after mah if I dinnae return.”
He sighed. “Moira.”
“Thank ye,” she said quickly, kissing his cheek before he could change his mind. “I promise, I will be back within the hour.”
Will grumbled but he didn’t try to pull her back when she released his hands and hurried to the door, pulling it open. She knew that Will had her best interests at heart, but every once in a while, she wanted to do something that didn’t necessarily fit into the laird of the keep mold.
Moira exited the keep and hurried to the bonfires, pulling her hood up over her head so that she wouldn’t be spotted immediately. She wanted to get lost in the crowd, to forget her duties, and to enjoy herself with those that were around her.
If only for an hour.
Before long, a tankard of ale was pressed into her hands and Moira was standing on the perimeter of the crowd, listening to the ballads that were being belted out in between the dancing.
Some were about her and she flushed as she listened to their words, pride infused in her chest. These were her people
“Och lass we are gonna have tae work on yer disguises.”
Moira smirked as she looked up at Tavin’s smiling face. “I’m not trying to hide.”
“Could have fooled me,” he chuckled, clinking her mug with his own. “I cannae believe he let ye out.”
“Naught but for an hour,” she said softly, taking in his handsome profile. “Unless ye believe I tied him tae a chair and escaped with mah life.”
Tavin choked on his ale, lowering his mug while battling a fit of coughing. “Yer always a surprise lass,” he croaked as she pounded him on the back.
“Good or bad?” she teased.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Good.”
His words pleased her, and she hid her smile behind her swallow of ale. “’ Tis a good thing ye have found me. Now ye can protect me again.”
Tavin laughed. “I dinnae think ye need me tae protect ye lass, not after today.”
Moira might not need him, but it would feel nice to have him as her protector. Instead of responding, she gazed at the dancing couples. “I wish I could dance tonight.”
He plucked her tankard out of her hands. “Who says ye cannae?”
“I cannae be seen,” she protested as he took her hands. “Please Tavin. I dinnae wish tae ruin their fun by announcing myself.”
He looked down at her, his eyes reminding her of a green meadow. “Aye lass, ye won’t. Do ye trust me?”
Her lips parted. “Aye,” she decided on. “I do.”
He gave her a short nod and pulled her deeper into the shadows as the song took on a mournful tone, one that she recognized easily. It was about a woman longing for a man she could not have and right now, Moira felt like she was that woman.
And Tavin might as well be that man.
His arms went around her, and Moira sighed, pressing her cheek to his tunic, which smelled faintly of hay. His heart drummed a beat against her ear, and she wrapped her arms about his lean waist. “I wasnae expecting this sort of dance,” he said into her hair. “But ’tis nice.”
“It is,” she whispered, pressing herself into his chest.
They swayed to the music; her eyes closed tightly for she wanted to never have this moment end. This was what she was longing for, these stolen moments that had her heart tightening in her chest. Tavin made her feel like a woman and not the woman who had the fate of the clan on her shoulders.
“Tell me what ye want Moira.”
Moira lifted her head and met his gaze. “I want...I want tae be happy. I want tae feel this way for the rest of mah days.”
His features softened and he reached for her chin, tipping it up. “Then allow me tae make ye happy right now.”
When his lips descended on hers, Moira was lost in the sensation. She had a kiss stolen when she was younger, but never with a man like Tavin.
His lips were firm but soft, moving over hers with a lazy fervor, nipping at her bottom lip until she parted her lips and his tongue swept in.
His hand cupped the back of her head and Moira angled her mouth, seeking his tongue out with her own.
Her entire body felt like it was on fire, aching for something she didn’t quite understand but definitely something she felt like Tavin could give her.
If she was daring enough.
He broke their kiss and trailed his lips along her jawline, down to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Och lass,” he said in her ear, “yer killing me.”
She wanted more. Moira ran her hands over his broad shoulders before thrusting them into his hair, surprisingly soft under her fingers. “Please, Tavin.”
He chuckled as his lips grazed her collarbone. “What lass? What do ye want?”
She didn’t know how to put it into words. “I want ye.”
His lips stopped moving and Tavin stepped back, his own hands in his hair. “Ye don’t want that with me, Moira.”
His words tore at her heart and she moved to him, laying her hand on his cheek. His stubble pricked her palm, but Moira didn’t care. “Tavin, look at me.”
When he did, she saw the indecision in his eyes. Was it because of who she was? Was it because of what was to likely happen in a matter of days?
What if it was him that rose above all the others? Moira wouldn’t mind it too much at all. “I do want it with ye Tavin. So much so.”
He blew out a breath, looking away. “This has gone too bloody far.”
Moira didn’t know what he meant by that, but she could hear the break in his voice, and it gave her hope. So instead, she stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his strong jawline, hearing his swift intake of breath. “Then not tonight.”
“Not tonight,” he muttered, pulling her close. “Och lass, ye unman me.”
Moira hid her smile in the folds of his tunic. She wanted to do much more than that, but she was willing to wait until the appropriate time to do so. “Will ye join me tomorrow?”
“For what?”
“I will be riding out tae the battlefield,” she said, smoothing her hand over his broad chest, “tae welcome the clans that have arrived and deliver the slaughtered hogs.”
“I dinnae know. That sounds like something important that I shouldnae be involved in.”
She pulled away, her hands still on his chest. “I would like for ye tae be there.”
His jaw clenched and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Yer man willnae allow it.”
Moira patted him on the chest lightly. “I can handle Will. Please say that ye will come.” She wanted someone there that she could trust, someone that made her remember that she was much more than a laird.
It was obvious to her that Tavin was not interested in her title, but her as a woman, and she wanted him to be wherever she was.
Tavin leaned down and brushed his lips over her temple. “If ye want me there, I will be there.”
It wasn’t until Moira was back in the keep, safe and sound much to Will’s relief, that she realized her heart was light. She was happy and it was because of Tavin.
How had he instilled this sort of happiness in her in such a short amount of time? It was because he didn’t treat her like her title, but like a person.
A person that had feelings, that could fall in love.
Moira paused, looking at herself in the mirror. Am I falling in love with Tavin? It was possible, she assumed. He was handsome and seemed to care about her.
And his kisses. Her skin warmed at the thought of where he had placed his kisses tonight. He had given her the night she had hoped for and already Moira was looking forward to her time with him on the morrow.
Turning away from the mirror, Moira climbed into her bed, dousing the candle and plunging the room into darkness. While her bed was empty now, it wouldn’t be forever. There was only one man that she could picture there.
If he wanted the position.