Chapter 21
Moira placed the correspondence on the table and sighed, her eyes heavy.
She had been reading correspondence all morning from various clans, some offering their help while others were offering their sons as her husband.
She had been able to hold off the elders since the attack on the keep but knew that they would be wanting an answer soon.
As did she.
It had been three days since the attack, and the village was slowly starting to come back to normal. The keep hadn’t sustained any major damage and all the dead had been buried. Only the traitors remained in the dungeon, with their fates to be decided by the end of the week.
Moira could not believe what her clan had gone through, nor could she understand why she had also gone through it.
It was a gentle reminder that her clan was not without their weaknesses, and Will had started to look for those weaknesses within the keep, asking her to approve numerous changes so that her family would remain safe.
A knock sounded on the door and Moira smoothed her hair with her hands. “Come in.”
Fennella entered. “We are packed and ready to depart.”
Moira stood and rounded the table, her arms outstretched. “I wish ye dinnae have tae leave.”
“Aleck is anxious tae return home,” Fennella stated, hugging her sister. “I am as well.”
Moira did not blame them. What was supposed to be a reunion had turned into something far more sinister and had put their lives in danger. She was incredibly grateful that no one that she cared about had been hurt, though many warriors and villagers had. “I shall miss ye dreadfully.”
Fennella pulled back, giving her sister a critical eye. “I wish tae discuss a matter with ye.”
“Of course,” Moira stated.
Fennella drew in a breath. “I know ye are scared tae commit tae anything, but that Scot of yers has not taken a rest the entire time since ye have saved him from the dungeons. He has worked every day in the village, making certain that yer clan is taken care of. That has tae account for something, Sister.”
Moira bit her lip, knowing what Fennella was saying. She had not given Tavin a moment’s look since that day in the great hall, not certain how to handle her feelings for him. She loved him, that was for certain, but did she want him to be her husband now that she knew the truth?
Or was she being a coward in not confronting her feelings and letting go of her anger?
“Do ye still care for him?” Fennella asked softly.
“Aye,” Moira whispered, unable to find her voice. “I do.”
Her sister bestowed a brilliant smile on her. “Then ye know what ye must do.”
The sisters said goodbye to each other, and Moira followed her to the door, saying goodbye to the rest of the family. She would miss them, but in a few months would make her way to their keep for a visit as well.
But first, she had to decide what she was going to do about Tavin.
After the caravan had started down the road, Moira grabbed her cloak and walked to the village, under the pretense that she was going to check on the repairs. The huts were being rebuilt; the ground was no longer scorched from the fires that had been set.
There were people happy to be out and about, many of them calling out warm greetings as Moira walked past. This was what she loved about being the leader of this clan. It was the people, not the riches or the amount of land that she owned.
Without her people, she would be nothing.
Moira spied the hut that was being currently rebuilt, her steps slowing as she realized who was on the thatched roof, his skin glistening in the warm sun.
Her breath stole from her chest as she watched him work, his hair hanging about his face and obscuring it from view.
But she would know that form anywhere.
Moira didn’t know how long she stood and watched Tavin work, but when he finally climbed down from the roof, she cleared her throat. “Tavin.”
He stilled, turning in her direction. “Mah lady. Come tae see the repairs?”
She shook her head. “I’ve come tae see ye.”
He gave her a long look before turning back to the dipper he was holding in his hand, taking a long drink of water before dumping another dipperful over his head. Moira’s mouth went dry as he combed his hair back with his fingers, the water sliding down his broad chest in rivulets against his skin.
Then he came to her, his expression shuttered. “Mah lady. I am yers.”
“Can we go for a walk then?”
He gave her a sharp nod and they started through the village, heading away from the keep.
Moira formulated the words in her head, her heart fluttering in her chest. “I’ve given this a lot of thought,” she started once they were out of sight from most of the villagers. “And I am ready tae hear yer story.”
Tavin was silent for a few moments before he cleared his throat. “I came here tae yer land tae scout for mah da and brothers. The intention was tae rob ye and yer family of any goods. ’Tis was mah duty and has always been tae be the one tae steal yer secrets and give them tae mah brothers.”
He said it so matter-of-fact that Moira could not ignore the hurt as she thought about how he had had first approached her that night of the dinner. Now she understood his flattery, his easy smiles that had not quite reached his eyes.
“But then,” Tavin continued, “I met ye and yer clan. The others that we have done this tae were cruel, Moira, much like we were, and I felt no shame in what I was setting them up tae experience.”
He stopped and took her hand carefully, his eyes watching for her to reject him.
Moira drew in a breath as his skin touched hers, forcing herself to meet his gaze straightaway.
In his eyes, she saw regret, longing, and that aching tenderness that she had grown used to.
No, Tavin was nothing like his family, not to her.
“Then I knew I was doing wrong,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing the top of her hand.
“When I kissed ye, I knew I was lost, not wanting tae be found.”
“Tavin,” she started, but he shook his head, a handsome smile on his face.
“Nay lass, let me speak.”
Moira held her words in as she watched him struggle with what he wanted to say.
“All mah life I have been looking for a sense of belonging,” he said after a moment.
“For a place tae call home. I thought what mah da was doing was providing that home, but now I see he only wanted the power by stealing it. He was nothing but a thief and that is all that he will ever be.” He then let out a long breath.
“But I will work here in yer clan for as long as ye will let me, tae pay off mah family’s debt tae ye.
I will faithfully serve ye and yers for the rest of mah life it if means tae be back in yer good graces. ”
When his hand cupped her cheek, Moira was lost in the sensation of his closeness, remembering the last time he had touched her so intimately. “I’m not asking for ye tae love me,” he said softly. “But I will love ye for the rest of mah days lass.”
The words she had always wanted to hear.
They were words of love, words of a man who cherished the woman before him, even if he had gone about seeking her love the wrong way.
“How do I know I can trust ye?” she asked him, meeting his mournful gaze.
“How do I know I can have a Stuart in mah clan and never once question his intentions?”
Tavin shook his head. “Ye don’t lass. I will always be a Stuart, now the lowest trash that the Scots spit upon and bloody hell, mah family deserves the hate.”
Moira’s eyes filled with tears at his tortured words. There had been a time when her family was hated because of the deeds of her father. She could not hold him to his family’s misguided deeds nor should any other Scot. Tavin was not a Stuart. It might be his surname but it was not who he was.
“Yer a good man Tavin,” she started, leaning into his touch. “A bit misguided from those that are tae love ye, but still a good man.”
“Och lass, ye unman me,” he whispered, tears glimmering in his eyes.
Moira was taken back by his display of emotion and with a sob, threw herself against him, not caring that he smelled like he had been working outside all day or the fact that the water he had dunked on himself would wet her dress.
“I love ye,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his warm chest.
His arms crushed her against him, and he breathed into her hair. “I dinnae deserve yer love.”
Moira wrapped her arms around his lean waist. “But ye have it. I wish for ye tae be at mah side. I wish for ye tae be the man that gives me happiness.”
“Aye, I will keep ye happy for the rest of yer days.”
She believed him. Moira knew she could hold what Tavin did against him, turn her back like the rest of the clans had done, and put him in the same category as his father.
She could banish him from her lands, but that would be as if she had banished him from her heart as well.
She loved Tavin and cared not what his surname was.
He had saved her clan, risking his life against his own family to make certain that she didn’t lose any of her family in the process and when he had a chance to leave, he had not, choosing to stay behind and help her clan repair the damage that his family had made.
If that did not prove his worth, she didn’t know what would.
Tavin pulled away from her, framing her face with his large hands. “It was never mah intention tae hurt ye.”
“I know,” Moira said, giving him a soft smile. She did believe him in that regard.
His eyes grew soft. “Do ye really want a Stuart at yer side?”
Moira nodded. “I see ye Tavin, not yer family. I see ye.”
“Moira!”
They both turned to see Will walking at a clipped pace toward them, his sword drawn. “Step away from her.”
Moira placed herself in front of Tavin. “Nay, Will. I love him.”
Will stopped, his glare directed at Tavin behind her. “Ye cannae trust him.”
“Move lass,” Tavin said in her ear. “Let me talk with him.”
Her heart in her throat, Moira did as he asked and Tavin approached her second-in-command, his palms out. “I love her,” he started, his words melting Moira’s heart. “And I will protect her tae mah dying breath, but I willnae continue tae fight ye while I do.”
“Ye tried tae destroy her,” Will growled. “I told ye I would slit yer throat if ye hurt her and ye did.”
Tavin lowered himself to the ground, baring his throat for Will. “Aye, I did.”
“Tavin!” Moira cried out. “No!”
“I did agree,” Tavin told her. “And I did hurt ye, love.”
Will’s jaw twitched as he stared down at the Scot at his feet, swearing as he sheathed his sword. “Get tae yer feet, Scot. Any man that is fool enough tae bare his throat tae me must be addled or in love.”
Tavin rose to his feet and Moira hurried over, wrapping her arms around him. “He’s the man I choose,” she said breathlessly.
Will sighed. “Aye, I see that. Now ye have tae convince the elders.”
Moira didn’t care. She would give them her seat if they denied her Tavin.
He was to be her husband.
“Please,” she begged. “Dinnae ever do that again.”
Tavin held her close, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I cannae escape who I am, love, but I will forever be yers.”
Moira had tears in her eyes as she buried her face in his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. She would fight for him and help him understand that he did not need to take the sins of his da and brothers on his shoulders. He had saved her life and that of her clan.
“I will just walk away then,” Will muttered, turning away from them, and heading back in the direction he had come.
Moira pulled back to look at Tavin. “Ye will have tae go before the elders,” she stated. “As mah intended.”
He cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears. “For ye lass, I will walk tae the ends of the earth.”
Now Moira knew what kind of love her sister and Aleck had for she felt the same way about Tavin. “There’s no need,” she stated, giving him a grin. “Only tae the keep will be just fine.”