Highlander Undone (Highland Bound Book 5) (18 page)

Shona helped herself to some of the nuts, and Moira admired the bowl. They did look fresh, but her stomach was so twisted in knots the thought of eating only made her queasy.

“I can see why they would think so,” Shona said.

“What were you doing up there? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Emma’s gaze didn’t waver, the same intense stare Moira had seen from Ewan. They were definitely related.

Shona’s face heated and Moira looked at her sister, keenly interested in what her answer would be. Why would she be embarrassed? And then it dawned on her and Moira gasped, the back of her hand to her lips.

“Do tell, Shona. I’d also like to know the answer to this, since ye showed up in Edinburgh naked.”

Emma giggled. “Naked? Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see that.” She winced and pressed her hand to her belly. “Ouch. Energetic little baby.”

“How far along are ye?” Moira asked.

“About eight months now.”

“And no medical care.” That was something Moira couldn’t handle.

“The midwife here is a dream.” Emma rolled her eyes.

Shona and Moira laughed.

“Thank God for your sister. I’d have warned Logan off me if she weren’t here. But let us not get off track. Tell me what happened, you know, with the glen,” Emma said.

“After ye told me about the powerful magic of the glen”—Shona pointed to Emma’s round belly—“I wanted to see if it could help us in conceiving a child. We snuck out of the castle, not wanting to be disturbed.”

“Ah,” Emma said, sinking onto one of her chaise lounges. “So when ye traveled ye were in the middle of having sex.”

Moira pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the image that conjured. To have been there and seen the looks on the people’s faces as her sister and her husband showed up mid-coitus in the park.

Shona rolled her eyes. “No, we’d already fallen asleep.”

“Well, do you think it worked?” Emma asked.

Shona stared at Emma’s belly, envy and joy filling her eyes. “I don’t know. I won’t know for a couple of weeks I guess.”

“More like a few months without a pregnancy test.” Emma stuffed a few more almonds into her mouth, chewing as she contemplated some thought. “I missed my period, but it wasn’t the first time. I think with the stress of being here, I wasn’t so regular. Anyways, it wasn’t until it had been a few months missed and that I felt a little flutter in my belly that I was certain.”

“What about morning sickness?” Moira asked.

“Well there was a little bit of that, but I couldn’t be sure if it was just being ill or not. I had, and still do, a lot of heartburn. Shona was making me up a concoction for that before she disappeared.”

“Oh, I did make that for ye!”

Emma smiled. “I found it.”

“Did it help?”

“Yes, very much. Thank you.” Emma jumped up from her chaise, a little too quickly as she swayed on her feet. “Whoops. Keep forgetting how off balance I am.”

Shona helped to steady Emma on her feet. “Well, lets go find the men, and we can see if they told Logan the truth.”

As Emma approached the door, there came a swift knock. Upon opening the door, Logan, Ewan and Rory filed in.

“We were just coming to see you.” Emma beamed at her husband who touched her belly and bent to kiss her gently on the lips.

The sight made Moira smile. Amazing that a woman could find happiness living in the past. Moira had always believed one should go forward, live for the now, the present. Well, she supposed, even if they were living in the past, this
was
their present.

Her gaze fell on Rory. He was regarding her with a sentiment she didn’t want to recognize but did all the same. Love. Appreciation. Admiration. He looked so handsome standing there. His muscles bulging from the too tight
leine
shirt he’d gotten from Hildie, the kilt a little too short. Moira let out the breath she’d been holding. Time didn’t seem to matter where he was concerned. She was just as attracted to him now as she was the first time she’d ever met him.

“May I present to ye, my laird,” Ewan said, “The Ayreshire lassies.”

Logan looked stricken. “Ayreshire?”

“Aye.”

Rory’s entire body stiffened and Moira found herself gravitating toward him. Why did he seem on the defensive? They could trust Logan, couldn’t they?

“Ayreshire?” Emma asked. “What is the significance?”

Logan blew out a breath. “Love, ye remember that song?” He sang a few verses in Gaelic. “One of red and one of black, born at Ayreshire and swept back, lost forever the princesses of time, the last of the king’s most sacred line.”

“Yes?” Emma raised her brows, studying Shona and Moira with a questioning gaze.

“That is about the Ayreshire lassies. Princesses that went missing a hundred years ago.”

“Oh…” Emma blew out a long breath. “You’re them.”

Moira shook her head. “We’re not. We grew up in Edinburgh. We’ve been there as long as I can remember.”

“How far back do ye remember?” Ewan asked Shona.

“Until I was five or six maybe?”

“What do ye remember? A family?” Logan asked.

“We lived in the foster care system,” Shona answered.

“What is that?” Logan glanced at Emma for an answer.

Emma explained. “Families or people who take in orphaned children.”

“So ye had no family?” Logan asked.

“We had each other.” Moira felt her spine straightening with pride. “We are each other’s family.”

“I meant no offense,” Logan explained. “’Tis simply a question of whether or not…” He broke off, and glanced at his wife who nodded.

“They have traveled,” she blurted out.

No one made a sound, nor appeared shocked. Logan ought to know the truth.

“Ye know then?” Ewan asked.

Logan rubbed the stubble of his cheeks. “Aye, Emma has told me about it.”

“And ye believe?” Ewan watched Logan intently.

“How could I not?”

Rory stepped closer to Moira, his little finger brushing hers. “There is a chance, if the both of ye dinna remember, that ye were brought to another time before ye were old enough to know, for protection. ’Haps what happened to Shona could have happened to ye both back then. Ye were made to forget. The same thing happened to—”

But Ewan cut Rory off before he could say more, perhaps fearful that his secret would be revealed. “What do ye think?”

Moira literally felt the blood draining from her face. “We have a large trust fund.”

“Aye?”

“A very large one.”

“Do ye think that ye were brought to another realm for protection? The money left to take care of ye?”

Moira dragged in a ragged breath. “I don’t know.” She reached up, tugging at the necklace she’d always thought belonged to her mother. “We’ve never known the identities of our parents. We have no pictures. No letters.”

“What is that?” Logan stepped closer, examining the charm. “My god. It’s true.”

Rory caught Moira’s fearful gaze. “Ye’re the firstborn.”

“What?”

“The firstborn was given a pendant that belonged to her mother, a golden circle to represent the crown with a lion etched on top of it to show the joined houses of Scotland and England.” Logan let the pendant drop back against her chest. “Your blood could have united the countries, but your mother feared for your life. Your father was a prisoner of the English King Edward III. If Edward had known King David had children, he would have seen ye killed to keep his crown.”

“Then how…?”

“Perhaps your mother had found out about time travel. Or, entrusted your care to someone who did. They brought ye to the future, set up a fund to keep ye taken care of for all of your life, away from danger.”

The news weighed heavy. Orphans for as long as they could remember. Moira had never had hopes of a reunion with her parents, but every little lass could dream. That dream was now thoroughly squashed. Her parents had lived hundreds of years before, and Fate only sent one where it wanted one to go.

“The good news is no one should ever guess that ye are they.” Logan winked. “Shall we dine? I’m certain my wife is famished.”

Chapter Fifteen

The next few days were filled with much napping, drinking wine, and generally avoiding a revisit of the conversations that had taken place upon their arrival. At least for Moira. She spent the days with Shona planting in the herb garden that had been mostly ignored since her sister left—since no one knew just what to plant—and concocting various herbal remedies in Shona’s workroom.

Whenever Rory tried to approach her, Moira quickly turned the other way—a cowardly act that made her feel terrible. But she just couldn’t face him. How would he feel about her, knowing that she’d been a princess? Was still a princess? He’d yet to share with her the full secrets of his past. It just seemed the chasm between them could never be closed if neither of them was willing to face the truth of their pasts. At least now she knew for certain he’d never left her to have a relationship with her sister. He’d not left her because he wanted to. He plainly had no choice in the matter. That knowledge was a relief. A liberation from the torment she’d been feeling for years. And perhaps time was the healing balm for her heart.

Moira strolled through the bailey. She’d decided to take a visit to the stable to feed the horses a few extra carrots she’d snagged from the garden when Cook wasn’t looking. This was also something she’d decided she liked doing in the last few days. At night, she stared out her window toward the top of the ridge, the one that Shona and Ewan had been making love on that sent them to the future. Whenever there was another full moon, she was going to go to the top of that mountain, and if she had to strip down to her bare skin, she would. She’d decided. She’d miss her sister a lot. She’d miss Rory, too. But this was not the life she wanted to live. She didn’t belong here.

Coming to that decision had not been easy.

“Moira.”

So deep in thought was she that she’d not heard Rory’s approach. She glanced up at him, admiring his dark eyes, pools of memories in their depths. A face that always made her smile. He held onto her arm gently, sliding down to her hand, threading his fingers in hers. Perhaps he was afraid she’d run, and why shouldn’t he be, for she had every other time he’d tried to talk to her. Or maybe he just wanted to touch her as much as she wanted to touch him.

But she’d also decided that she wasn’t going to run from him anymore. Especially if, within a few weeks, she might not ever see him again.

“Can we… talk?” The word almost sounded foreign on his tongue, for it came out sounding thick and awkward.

There was a little trickle of sweat on his temple and the collar around his shirt. The men had obviously been training. Now that was something she’d not seen yet, but was certain she would have enjoyed watching.

“Sure.”

He glanced from side to side. “In private?”

Moira chewed her lip, thinking the stable a very private place already.

“Please? Ye dinna have to worry about your reputation as everyone thinks we’re married.”

“Unhappily,” she said. Rory had been sleeping with the men in the barracks instead of in the chamber they’d been given to share. That was sure to have some tongues wagging.

“What goes on between the two of us is none of their concern.”

She’d always loved that about him. The confidence to be himself and not give a shit what anyone else thought. She wanted to be more like that. “All right.”

He let go of her hand and offered her his elbow. She stared at it, wanting to touch him, to be the one that reached out, but knowing that as soon as she did all those potent feelings would come tunneling back inside her. Rory patiently waited for the storm of her indecision to pass. Well, she’d already been holding his hand. His arm wasn’t much different. She took his elbow simply because he was such a decent and kind man—and because the contact felt good, left her warm.

The moment her fingertips touched his bicep, heat suffused her limbs. He was strong, incredibly firm, and yet he could be so gentle.

“Where are ye taking me?” she asked.

“A place I’ve discovered over the last couple of days.”

He walked her around the rear of the castle, through the gardens and to the postern gate. Once outside, there was a set of slick stone stairs leading down to the shore of the loch. She held on tight as they walked, taking each damp step very carefully, until they reached a marshy bottom.

The scent of the loch wafted over them in a calming breeze. Along the loch ducks swam in groups and pairs, bobbing under the water every once in awhile in search of food.

“I’ve been walking the shores. ’Tis soothing,” he said.

“Yes.” They walked arm in arm. With her free hand, she trailed her fingers over the reeds waving gently in the breeze.

“Moira, I’ve been thinking.”

Her stomach did a little flip.

“I…” He cleared his throat and her stomach dropped. “I still love ye, lass. I want ye to be mine in more than just pretense.”

She stiffened, her belly doing a little flip at his admission. Staring off into the distance, she whispered, “Love is not everything, Rory. I’m not a possession.”