A Noble Deception (The Douglas Clan) (9 page)

Yes, people knew of the deeds, but they
had no idea of how it had shaped Moira as a person—well, perhaps Niall and his family did, but that was about it. She should not have felt the need to defend herself, to
unburden
herself to this perfect stranger. Yet that is exactly what she found herself doing.

“
As ye may ken, Lord Kildrummond fell in love wi’ my mother only a few years into his marriage to Lady Glinis—” she frowned when his brows drew sharply together. “Aye, of course ye ken that. Anyway, when my mother fell pregnant wi’ me, she ran away to a village just east of Berwick, and that’s where I were born. She thought she’d never see his Lordship again, for what man of noble blood ever wants anything to do with the illegitimate child he’s sired? She didna think he’d be any different, and she had no desire to remain in Kildrummond and be a burden to him. Nor had she any wish to be a pariah to the villagers.

“
As it happened, Lord Kildrummond was devastated when she left. He loved her so much that he searched far and wide for her. When finally he reached Berwick and heard word of us, he begged her to come back to him, and promised to take care of her and the child—me—for the rest of our lives. He couldna marry her, ye see, and they both kent that. But he was prepared to keep her as his mistress. Wife and clan be damned.”

“I
t’s a wonder that his Lordship didna just move her into the castle,” Lachlan observed testily.

“I think he tried, actually,”
she admitted. “But his close kin came to Lady Glinis’s defence, made him see that what he was doing was bringing enough shame on her. To have his mistress in the castle, invading the rightful Countess’s home... well that were too much.”

“
That’s hardly better. So he doesna parade his mistress around at the castle, but instead he installs her a short distance away where the whole village can witness their adultery. Sorry,” he relented when he remembered who they were speaking of. “I forget this is yer mother.”

Moira
sighed heavily. “Perhaps, but ye do speak true. In any case, that is precisely why I work so hard to separate myself from him; from them both. Ye canna imagine what it’s like to grow up knowing yer own mother is despised by her people. And I were despised right along wi’ her. She traded her happiness for mine, what else can be said? I’ve worked long and hard to make sure people around here know I’m no’ standing here wi’ my hand out, waiting for Lord Kildrummond’s charity. I canna change my origins, but I can make my own impression. And I think I’ve done that... in the village, at least. The people here at Glendalough still dinna think very highly of me.”

“I admire ye for yer courage. And ye’re right: the people of the village do hold ye in very high esteem.”

Moira scrunched her face in disbelief. “And how would ye ken that, sir?”

Lachlan raised his shoulders dismissively.
“I’ve made a few inquiries. I’ve also learned that ye were expected to marry yer Niall MacCormack before this business wi’ me arose.”

She
barked an exasperated laugh. “I dinna ken how many times I can say it—Niall and I will never be getting married.”

“Is he that objectionable, then?”

“Nay, he’s my best friend.” Her smile grew wistful, and her gaze turned inward. “Ach, I give him a rough time—no harder than he gives me, mind—but he’s my best friend in all the world, and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out him.”

“That is like Alex and me—Sir Alexander MacByrne,” he clarified, when
Moira lifted an eyebrow.

“Ah, the one wi’ whom ye’ve travelled here.”

“That’d be him. We grew up together. The both of us were from poor families, looking to better our lot in life. The only difference between us is that my father had a title... for all the good it did him. Anyway, I, too, dinna ken where I’d be wi’out him.”

“
What happened to make a viscount take on a position as a knight? Since we’re being so open and honest wi’ each other.”

She’d parroted h
is own words back to him. It made Lachlan laugh. “Since that is so, I’ll make it clear now that ye’re no’ marrying a man wi’ an abundance of wealth—in case ye thought to marry me for my coin. My grandfather were the last Viscount Strathcairn that had any measure of wealth to his name. And he pished it all away—pardon my crudeness. So I am as landless and as wealthless as ye, Lady Moira. But unlike ye, I’m no’ about to sniff at an offer to remedy that condition.”

“
Indeed,” she reflected. “Perhaps then this little arrangement of ours is more important than either of us thought.”

“Aye
. I must say, I’m glad I’ve had the chance to speak wi’ ye about it. Perhaps we might start afresh, find our way forward as friends, instead of enemies?”

Moira grinned
sheepishly. “Perhaps we can. I’ll allow that ye might no’ be the arrogant villain I imagined ye to be—I said
might
, ye understand.”

“And ye’re every bit the
ill-mannered wisp I imagined
ye
to be. But ‘tis no’ my place to try and change ye. And besides, I find ye rather refreshing.”

“Well then, I shall consider it my mission to tir
e ye of the notion soon enough.”

She was incredible! Lachlan threw his head back and
roared heartily. “I daresay ye’d try, lass.”

Eight

BECAUSE OF LORD Kildrummond’s rapidly failing health, it was imperative that the wedding be arranged without delay. A priest was sent for from the abbey at Inverness to perform the ceremony, and during the sennight it took for him to travel to Moray, Lachlan and Alex used the opportunity to settle their affairs in Aberdeen for good.

It pained
Lord Erroll to learn that he was to lose not one, but
two
of his best knights. Being the honourable man he was, the chief of Clan Hay released them both from their obligation to Slains. He wished them a sincere farewell, and left Lachlan with the promise of Clan Hay’s political alliance if ever he had a need of it.

Moira, on the other hand, spent the sennight until the priest’s arrival dreading the event of her marriage, farce though it was.

Perhaps it was
because
the event was a farce that she found herself a bundle of nerves on the eve of her wedding. She spent her last hours of matrimonial freedom huddled before the fire in her own, modest dwelling. There she pondered her future, the ever-faithful Niall at her side. The pair sat in silence, their mutual affection requiring no words.

No matter how hard she wished it,
Moira could not halt the relentless march of nightfall.

“Ye should get going before ye lose the light
,” she told Niall reluctantly.

Niall sat forward, and idly crinkled the piece of straw he held in his fingers. After a moment he tossed the piece into the fire.

“Nah,
I’m alright.”

“Ye sure ye dinna mind looking after the place for me while
... while I’m gone?”

While she was gone. While she waited for her father to pass
, more like. The poor lass, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Niall knew his lifelong friend well: this sort of trickery was not in her nature, and it was eating away at her conscience.

“One of us will be out here at least once a day,” he reassured her.

“Of course I’ll be out as much as I can, too. I expect I shall be able to come out at least a few mornings each sennight.”

“Aye, so ye’ve said.”

Moira glanced sideways, chagrined. “I
have
said that before, havena I?”

“
Ye have. And if ye say it one more time, so help me I’ll tip ye into the brae.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Ye dinna need to explain anything to me, lass. I’ve kent ye almost yer whole life, and I ken how to read ye. ‘Tis an enormous burden ye’ve agreed to bear here, even if it’s a lie.”

She was silent for a long while, her blue eyes following the flicker of flames. When she spoke, her words were so meek Niall could hardly believe they’d come from her.

“Am I making a mistake, Niall? Is this lie an unforgivable sin?”

He studied her small, frightened face and
quivering lips. A deep sigh filled the cavity of his chest. “I dinna ken, lass. That’s something ye’ll have to work out yerself. On the one hand, ye
are
lying to yer own father. Ye’ve an obligation by the law of the land to do as he bids, and it’s his right to determine whom ye marry.”

“So
ye’ve
said,” she quipped morosely.

“
But
,” Niall pressed, “all his Lordship has ever wanted for his only daughter is that ye be happy, and that ye’re looked after. Now, perhaps his notion that a marriage will make ye happy isna quite to yer liking—nor to Viscount Strathcairn’s liking, for that matter—but it’s always been
ye
he’s thought of.”

“He thinks to keep Kildrummond from the king’s hand,” she
argued.

“And whose sake d’ye think he does that for above all else?
Yers
, Moira. He wants Kildrummond preserved, first and foremost, for
ye
. But as I was saying, even though ye’ll be ending yer marriage to Lachlan Ramsay when the old man passes, in the end, what he wanted for ye will come to pass: ye’ll remain in Kildrummond, and ye’ll be protected and looked after for the rest of yer life. His wish for ye will, one way or another, come true.”

“Aye
... perhaps. I still feel wretched for deceiving him so.”

Niall
shifted in his chair so that he was facing her fully. “I dinna blame ye for feeling that way. But it may be that some good can come of yer guilt.”

Moira gazed back, her expression wary. “Go on.”

“He’s wanted nothing more than to love ye, Moira. To love his daughter and to have his daughter love him in return. Could ye no’ see yer way to being the daughter he’s always wanted? Ye’ve no reason now to be so cold to him. As far as all of Kildrummond kens, ye’re marrying a nobleman and Glendalough will be yers—well, through yer husband, anyway. The independence ye’ve sought so hard to maintain is for naught now.”

She straightened
. “Ye take that back, Niall. It isna!”

“Settle yerself, lass. We both ken that
ye’ve avoided a relationship wi’ him all this time because ye dinna want people thinking of ye the way they thought of yer mother: that ye take advantage of his Lordship’s love in exchange for gifts and goods. But like it or no’, sweetling, that’s exactly what they think of ye now; now that ye’re to be wed to a nobleman and given Kildrummond. And ye’ll no’ change their minds, either, them that willna see ye as anything other than Lord Kildrummond’s bastard offspring—dinna look at me like that. I’m only saying what they think, and it isna anything ye dinna already ken yerself.”

He gazed searchingly at her. “
They’ll look down on ye no matter what. Ye canna change them, so ye might as well forget about them. Why no’ put yer father’s mind at ease, hmm? At least in this last stage of his life.”

He was right. She hated to admit it, but Niall had a point. She’d capitulate
d; she’d allowed the earl to determine her future; she’d been dragged into Kildrummond’s noble sphere by that Viscount Strathcairn and his little plan. It was what she’d been fighting against all her life, to be cast into the same light as her mother. God’s bones, she shouldn’t have listened to Lachlan Ramsay, she should have kept on fighting.

But she hadn’t. And it was too late to change her mind now. Groaning, she dropped her face into her hands
.

“I’ll think
on it,” she grumbled into her palms.

And think
on it she did. All the next morning, though her wedding—her
marriage
, for heaven’s sake—was mere hours away, it was what
Niall
had said about the earl that occupied her mind. His words played over in her head, and with each revolution she found it harder and harder to deny their truth.

She could no longer deny his Lordship—
no, not “his Lordship,” her
father
—the paternal relationship he desperately craved. If she did, she would regret it until her dying day.

And so,
with the ceremony less than an hour away and the chapel filled with Lowland and Highland Douglases alike, Moira visited the Earl of Kildrummond’s chamber.

Without
having been summoned. For the first time in her life.

Halting in front of the door
, she took a breath. Then, raising her hand, she rapped a knuckle against the heavy oak. Long moments passed in silence; she was certain her breath was so loud it echoed down the corridor. She was about to knock again when the earl’s man pulled the door open. Seeing Moira standing on the other side, he gazed quizzically at her for a brief instant. Composing himself, he stepped back to let her pass.

Inside, the earl
was seated in front of his dressing table. Though his body had withered in its illness, he still looked every bit as regal as he always had. His silver hair had been combed and lay feathered over his shoulders, emphasizing how narrow they’d grown. A robe of deep black velvet was latched over the stark cords of his neck, and cascaded down his back like a ribbon of midnight sky.

H
is blue eyes, so much like hers though they were now sunken into his gaunt face, sparkled with enthusiasm. A smile that was almost childlike spread across his wan lips when he caught her reflection through the polished tin mirror.

“Moira, lass. Ye look positively lovely
. Every bit as beautiful as yer mother.”

“Yer Lord
sh—er... Father.” She curtseyed awkwardly. “Should ye be out of bed?”

Lord Kildrummond coughed
. The sound of wet phlegm rattling in his chest was so pronounced, both Moira and the earls’ man winced.

“I wouldna miss it for the w
orld, seeing ye married,” he answered when he’d recovered enough to speak.

“
Ye’ll be there to make bloody sure I marry, more like.”

Warmth infused his eyes as he took in her stubborn grimace.
“Such spirit; such life. I’ve been called a fool for neglecting yer upbringing, for not checking yer manners when ye were young. But I ask ye: how could I? I could no more change ye than I could tell the hills no’ to bloom wi’ heather. Yer mother’s spirit shines in ye, lass.”

His wistful tone at the mention of
Lilian dredged the last of her buried guilt. She lowered her eyes to the floor. “Aye, well... I’m sure she’s grateful to ye for all ye’ve done for me.”

“I would have d
one more, lass, if ye’d have let me. And what I do now, this marriage to Viscount Strathcairn, ‘tis only yer welfare I think of. Ye’ll see, ‘tis for the best.”

Her exhumed guilt twisted sharply in her gut.
She glanced warily at Lord Kildrummond’s man, who stood unobtrusively to the side.

“We need no’ speak of it anymore. ‘Tis done. I only
came to see how ye were before things get underway. Ye look as if ye need to rest.”

“Ye’re right.
The effort simply to prepare has tired me. I’ll rest now, but I’ll be counting the minutes until I can see ye again.”

Moira shifted uncomfortably.
“Er—aye. Until then.” She bounced on the balls of her feet once or twice, itching to flee the room and silence the angry sting of her conscience. But the proud light radiating from Lord Kildrummond’s face brought the echo of Niall’s words into sharp clarity.

Why no’ put yer father’s mind at ease? At least in this last stage of his life
... Be the daughter he’s always wanted.

Cursing
silently, she stepped to the earl’s side and placed a kiss on top of his thinning hair. He started, caught off guard by her sudden affection. His eyes shining with tears, he raised a withered hand and patted her arm.

God’s blood, those tears would
haunt her for the rest of her life!

As it always does, time
marched on, and the final hour passed; it was time for the ceremony to begin.

Bound and constricted by the
pearl-coloured silk of her wedding gown, and her hair yanked into an elaborate plait, Moira waited outside the great hall with Lord Albermarle at her side. It would be he that gave her hand to Lachlan Ramsay, since Lord Kildrummond was physically unable to claim that particular honour.

The earl’s rest
had restored him, though—enough, at least, that he could make the journey from the keep to the hall with the aid of two sturdy clansmen. They held his elbows, bearing his weight with patience as he scuffled his feet along the flagstone floor. Lady Glinis hovered at his back, ready, it seemed, to catch him if his knees should buckle suddenly. Though what she could do in that instance that the two burly clansman at the earl’s side could not was anyone’s guess.

Not once did
she glance in Moira’s direction. In fact, as she passed the lass, her chin raised a notch in blatant dismissal of her presence. Her dark eyes smouldered with quiet hatred. Nor did Lady Glinis offer a glance for Lord Albermarle, who took the slight in stride. He knew the reason for it. When he felt Moira stiffen at his side, he patted her elbow.

“Dinna think on it, lass. ‘Twill soon be over.”

There was little pause between the time Lord Kildrummond was taken into the hall and the ceremony began. Before she knew it, Moira was being pulled across the room on Lord Albermarle’s arm to where Lachlan stood waiting for her on the dais.

Curse the brute,
must
he look so handsome? His chin had been scraped smooth, emphasizing the regal tilt of his jaw. Odd that such a simple change should alter his face so noticeably.

Or perhaps it was not his face that was altered, but rather some ind
efinable quality behind it. When rough and whiskered, it was a touch savage. But now, the battle hardened knight had been transformed into the noble viscount by nothing more than a scraped chin.

His eyes, however,
still retained a wisp of that savagery, still looked out on the world from a warrior’s perspective. It was a chilling duality; a dangerous one.

An inexplicably
sensual
one, too.

Moira pressed her lips together, annoyed with herself for even having entertained the thought.