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Moira had no idea if Beitris was going to say anything else, but at that moment Gerald came towards them with an expression of extreme annoyance on his face. Beitris turned and walked away, leaving them together.
“I think it would be better for everyone if you left now, Moira,” he said softly. “You are a good lass and I know you want Niall’s happiness, so for his sake and the sake of the clan, I think you should be on your way. I know that this is hard for you, but it’s for the best.” He gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her shoulder gently.
However, he had no need to worry, since Moira was emotionally and physically exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be on her way.
She nodded stiffly and walked away, saying nothing. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickling and knew that Gerald was still watching her, but presently, she rounded a corner and passed out of his sight, then headed for her chamber.
She knew now that she had definitely outstayed her welcome and that it was long past time she left Baltyre Castle and Niall McPhee. Beitris Maxwell had put her on notice that her presence would not be tolerated any longer, and Moira could see that she had a mean and spiteful nature. It was obvious that she would take any chance she could to wound and humiliate her.
Moira threw herself on the bed and tried to empty her mind of all thought for a while, but the harder she tried, the more difficult it became, and at last she gave up. There was a lot to do before she could go. Granted, she had not much packing to do, since she possessed very few clothes, but she had to organise a horse and food for the journey.
As well as that, she needed to find some sort of weapon to take with her; she had found out the hard way that she needed one last time she had set out on her own. She had taken a little knife with her on that occasion, and it had done little good. She now thought an axe might be better!
Moira packed her few belongings and looked around at her bedchamber. Her gaze fixed on the bed, where she and Niall had driven each other wild with delight. There, they had pledged their love for one another with their bodies and words of tenderness and passion, and she felt a wave of sadness so strong that she almost burst into tears. But she would be gone before he came back, and she would never see him again.
Moira moved over to the bed and bent down to bury her face in the sheets, which still bore the earthy scent of Niall’s body. She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes, trying to imprison the sensual musk inside her so that she could take it with her when she left. Tears were still threatening, but she somehow managed to hold them back. She could weep later.
On a sudden impulse, Moira tore a strip off the sheet, rolled it up and stuffed it in her bag. She might have ruined it, but now she would always have a little piece of Niall with her that she could remember him by, and she was quite sure he could afford another sheet!
Moira checked once more to see if she had packed every one of her few possessions, then counted her coins. She thought she might be able to survive for some weeks, although it might involve sleeping under the stars for a few nights.
I am a strong woman, she told herself. I can bear it.
She took a last look around the room that had become such a haven for her and held such wonderful memories, then opened the door, walked out and strode along the corridor with firm, deliberate steps. She would not look back, she told herself.
Having visited the kitchen to collect some food for the journey, Moira decided to take a last look around the castle, safe in the knowledge that Baltyre was a vast estate, and it would take Niall and his party a while to return.
She had no intention of being present when they returned, and she hurried up to the turrets to take a last look over Baltyre Estate. She marvelled at Niall’s ability to manage such a huge piece of land and all the people who lived there, and her admiration for him was boundless, as was her love.
She turned away sadly and made her way to the stables, where she intended to take the horse that had brought her here and leave once and for all.
Again, she looked around herself as she progressed along the corridor, memorising everything, storing it in her mind for the future when times might be much rougher and harder to bear. Memories were untouchable; no one could take them away from her.
As she entered the stables, Moira expected to see the stable boys grooming the horses, but there was no one around, which she found very strange. But she didn’t give it much more thought. At any rate, she had no time to waste, so she made her way inside to fetch her mount.
Just then, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and a familiar voice said, “Moira!”
Moira whipped around to see Brody McDonnell, her husband’s brother, glaring at her. He was older than Roy, and no less ugly, with sunken brown eyes, a long pointed nose and thin lips. She hated him almost as much as she had hated Roy, and she feared him in equal measure. His face, as he looked at her, had the appearance of a predator about to strike its prey, and she instinctively backed away from him.
Moira stared at him. “What do you want, Brody?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling with fear. This monster was capable of doing anything to achieve his ends: lying, stealing, cheating, killing—it made no difference to him.
If he spoke to Niall and told him the lie about how Roy McDonnell had died, Niall might send her back to her former home, then she had no idea what would happen to her. She only knew that it would be nothing good.
Moira felt utterly helpless, and she could see by the gleam of triumph in his eyes that he knew it.
Brody leered at her and tapped the side of his nose. “That is confidential,” he told her. “Suffice to say that if you do not cooperate with me, something very bad will happen to someone you hold very dear.”
He paused, then unsheathed the dagger he carried in a sheath on his hip. He held it up, so that daylight gleamed on its lethally sharp edge. “No harm will come to you if you do as I say.”
Moira’s heart sank. She should have known better than to think she could get away so easily. Roy had been cunning, and Brody was too. It was obviously a family trait, and she had been unfortunate enough to become tangled up with this tribe of criminals, thanks to her treacherous father.
Pure hatred burned like a fire inside her as she stood looking at him, and in a tone that made her flesh creep, he said, “Now listen to me, Moira.”
He stepped closer to her, watching with evil satisfaction as she tried to back away, but was stopped as her back came into contact with the wall behind her.
“What do you want?” she asked fearfully.
He took a step closer to Moira and thrust his face into hers so that their noses were almost touching, “I have your maid, Jean, in my possession and if you do not want anything bad to happen to her, I suggest you cooperate with me. I believe she is very dear to you.”
Moira’s eyes opened wide with horror. “No!” she cried in horror.
Brody shook his head, smiling with evil satisfaction. “Aye, my dear Moira,” he told her. “I am not. She is safe, at the moment, but that can always change.”
His eyes never left Moira’s terrified face as she gazed at him, unable to find a single word to say for a few seconds.
At last, Moira found her tongue again. “What do you want from me?” she asked in a strangled voice.
Brody narrowed his eyes and looked at her for a moment, then grinned. “You are coming with me,” he replied as he grabbed her arm in a grip so tight that Moira flinched with pain.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, curious despite her terror.
“That is for me to know,” he replied grimly. “Now, come with me. I have a horse for you, but I need to make sure you cannot escape.” He produced a length of cord and quickly tied her hands together.
Moira looked around frantically to see if she could raise anyone’s attention, and almost opened her mouth to scream, but Brody anticipated her intention.
“It will be very bad for you and Jean if you scream,” he growled. “Be very quiet because my men are loyal to me and if I tell them to, they will quite happily go and end your friend’s life. Would you like that on your conscience?”
Moira shook her head, now quite terrified.
Brody gave her a feral grin. “I thought not. Remember, her life is in your hands, and yours is in mine.”
Finn was exhausted, angry and worried. He had carried out the mission Niall had given him, and was deeply disturbed by what he had found about Moira. Now he clattered over the courtyard into the castle, but stopped in his tracks as he saw four armed men escorting Moira out of the castle. Her hands were tied in front of her, and as he watched, one of them lifted her and put her on a horse which was standing, already saddled and waiting for her.
Finn was fully armed, and was about to run up and challenge them, then he saw that the man assisting Moira had a large dagger in his hand. It would take him only a fraction of a second to strike a lethal blow, and Moira would be no more.
If this young woman was killed because of them, there would be hell to pay—Niall would never forgive him. Finn was never usually an indecisive man: he was a leader, and could not afford to be, but now he was helpless.
Presently, the man holding Moira saw him and gave him a savage grin. “Do not follow us, or try to rescue her,” he threatened. “One stroke of this dagger will finish her.”
Finn was about to answer with a foul insult, but stopped himself at the last second. He could take no chances with Moira’s life. As he looked at the thug, he realised who he was, he must be Moira’s foul brother-in-law, the one looking for her.
Moira glanced back at him, and the look in her eyes was one of pure terror, but Finn stood immobile and impotent, keeping his fury inside while all his instincts were telling him to chase after the kidnappers.
However, he knew that Niall would be back in a short while, then Finn could lay the burden on his shoulders. Yet, that was small comfort now; now he was frustrated and tortured by guilt.