Page 56 of The Warrior
She snorted. “I’ve seen myself in a looking glass.”
“I think ye know I would want ye no matter what ye looked like,” Duncan said, making Moira feel all soft inside again.
While Moira could not forget the past, neither did she want to let bitterness ruin her happiness of the moment. And, miraculously, she was happy.
“I expect to be gone for a few days on an errand for Connor,” Duncan said.
“Must ye go?” she asked and ran her hand up his chest.
“Aye,” he said and brushed her hair back from her face. “Before I go, I need to tell ye that I lo—”
Moira put her fingers over his lips. “Don’t say it.”
Meaningless words, that’s all they were. She did not want him to ruin what was between them with words of love that amounted to false promises. All those years ago, she had believed those words meant that he would stay with her, that he would always be there, that he would not fail her.
“Let’s make the most of this while it lasts,” she said.
“While it lasts?” Duncan asked, with an edge to his voice.
“Aye.” That’s all anyone could count on. Expecting more just led to disappointment.
“And how long do ye think that will be?” Duncan said between his teeth.
“I don’t know.” He was growing angry, but she was not going to lie. Until she had her son back, she did not want to think about the future any more than the past. She rubbed her hand up Duncan’s thigh. “All I do know is that I am happy with ye now.”
“Ye like sharing a bed with me.”
“I do.” She could not help the grin spreading across her face, despite the forbidding look Duncan was giving her. “I want to stay here at the cottage with ye until ye go. Perhaps I’ll stay here while you’re gone as well. Can ye help me bring some of my things up?”
* * *
“Ye can’t stay here,” Duncan said, his voice rising, despite his effort to be calm. “And ye can’t be living in my cottage while I’m gone.”
The woman would drive him mad. No matter what else she said, her plan to stay in his cottage had to mean she intended to marry him. Since she did not care to hear his words of love, he could only assume he pleased her in bed even more than he thought.
“Why can’t I stay here?” she asked.
“For one thing,’tis safer in the castle. For another, it would be improper. And for a third, Connor would have my head on a platter.”
“Improper?” Moira asked, sounding outraged. “I’m no unmarried lass of seventeen.”
She leaned over the side of the bed and started gathering her clothes from the floor.
“Come, Moira, ye know ye can’t stay here without us being married.”
Duncan had formed a plan, but he did not want to discuss marriage with her until he was certain his plan would succeed—and until he had Connor’s permission. That was the only honorable way to do this.
“I know nothing of the kind,” Moira said as she jerked her shift over her head. “No one—not you, not my brother, not anyone—is going to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“We can’t have everyone believing you’re giving yourself to me without us being wed.”
“But Iamgiving myself to ye without being wed.” She squeezed past him with the rest of her clothes in her hands.
“That is no the point,” Duncan said, following her into the other room. “Have ye no concern for your reputation?”
“No,” she said, turning to look straight at him. “I don’t.”
She stepped into her gown and, leaving it unfastened in the back, threw her cloak over it.
