Page 12 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior (Highland Whispers of Love #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

R oderick sat in his study, warmed by a crackling fire as he swirled a small glass of whisky in his hand. His excursion the day before had helped him get out of his head a little, and he had finally managed to catch up on some sleep. But after a day of thinking over what the Council had discussed, speaking to Cameron, and writing several letters to neighboring clans to ask for help, his mind drifted to all the thoughts he had had before.

He thought back to what his mother had said to him, about looking forward and finding joy. Joy felt impossible to him now. Even if he managed to solve the case of his father’s death, how was he even going to begin to feel normal again?

He thought about Moira and wondered whether his fate was destined to be the same as hers. Was he to turn cold? Destined to lead a life without warmth due to a tragedy over which he had no control?

He hated how harsh he was with her. It was unnecessary, and he really felt a lot of empathy for her, so much that it made his heart ache. Why then, did he speak so cruelly? Why was he so unyielding with her?

He thought again to what his mother said about his ‘betrothed’. There was some truth to it, he had to admit, if only to himself. He did feel something for Moira and he wondered whether he kept pushing her away for a simple reason. Because he was maddened by his empathy toward her for her apparent coldness and her lack of joy, so similar to his own.

Either way, he didn’t want her to leave—for reasons other than needing her assistance in solving his father’s case.

He had barely seen her the whole day, having been so occupied with clan problems, but he knew she had been looking around the castle and trying to chat with people to get some information. When he had crossed her in a hallway earlier in the evening, she had told him she had not really discovered anything interesting.

Two soft knocks sounded from his study door interrupting his musings, and Moira walked in holding a small flame. Her face was illuminated by the candle, but her jet-black hair faded into the darkness, so that all Roderick could fully make out were her mesmerizing green eyes.

He hadn’t realized how dark it was in his study until now.

“Roderick?” She whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of longing. Although, perhaps he was imagining that.

“Moira,” he said back. There was a certain intimacy to the manner in which they spoke, for in some ways the darkness demanded it, even though Moira was only halfway through the door. “What are ye doin’ here?”

“Apologies,” she said. “I didnae expect to see anyone here, I just came tae look at the study tae see if I could find anything o’ use.”

Roderick’s guilt intensified for the way he had spoken to her before. He realized, that in moments of stress, he was prone to speaking harshly, and he had been unduly impatient with her, as Moira had pointed out to him.

He managed to keep it together around his Council, but for some reason, with her, he lost control, and was more prone to succumbing to his instincts.

“Nay, that’s all right,” he said. “Sorry about the darkness, ye can come in.”

Roderick got up from his chair and lit a few more candles to illuminate the place as Moira closed the door. She walked around the study, gazing at the walls, her hand passing over a grand case of books.

Roderick watched her, the quiet rustling of her movements filling the silence between them. He felt calmed by her presence, and although he had complained about it before, her coolness soothed him. It settled the fire of his thoughts.

“This is a fine study,” she said. “It might be the grandest room I’ve seen yet.”

The study was adorned with intricate tapestries and dark wood paneling, and the windows were draped with thick, crimson, velvet curtains.

Deep golden shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient books and artefacts, all sitting below a multitude of paintings. Moira gazed up at the grand maps and portraits, as Roderick watched her, glad to see her interest piqued.

“Me faither used tae spend a lot o’ time in here,” Roderick said fondly, “he loved it.”

“Aye,” Moira said, “I can see why. I feel as though I could spend days siftin’ through the secrets and artefacts that lie hidden here.”

Roderick nodded, before frowning as he thought of his father. “I believe he did just that,” he said. “Although fer some reason he didn’t spend as much time here as was customary in his final days.”

Moira remained silent, and Roderick watched as she turned her attention to a series of old maps that hung along one wall, their edges worn from years of handling. She traced the inked lines with her fingers, as though trying to decipher their secrets.

“The details are brilliant,” she said thoughtfully.

“Aye,” Roderick responded. “Me faither sometimes would spend such long nights in this study that I remember he’d return tae his chambers only in the early hours o’ the morning.”

“Aye,” Moira said, her voice tinged with awe as she continued to study the maps. “I suppose it must have been a nice getaway fer him, as it is fer ye, a space far from all the responsibilities and the noise.”

“It is something like that, I suppose,” Roderick said thoughtfully, coming behind Moira, “although ye can never really escape yer mind.”

“Nae,” Moira agreed, “as much as ye try, ye cannae escape that.”

Roderick stepped closer, their bodies almost touching, and the air between them thickened. It was as though there was an unspoken tension, something that needed to be said—at least some recognition of their argument before. But neither of them spoke.

Roderick felt protective of her, he wanted to apologize for upsetting her—but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he stood still, breathing quietly, watching Moira as she continued to face the maps on the wall. Was she even still lookin’? He wasn’t sure.

“It took me a while tae find this place,” Moira said, clearing her throat, and breaking the tension between them with a casual candor to her tone. “It is almost on the other side o’ the castle from where the chambers are.”

“Aye,” Roderick said. “The castle is large. It is sometimes easy to forget, when everythin’ can feel so claustrophobic, an’ small.”

Moira turned her head slightly toward him. “Perhaps yer faither felt that way as well, because it is quite a journey it is tae get here. I suppose he found it tae be worth the trip.”

It’d be worth the trip if she was waitin’ fer me in me study each night.

He didn’t know where the thought came from and he dismissed it quickly, steadying his thoughts.

But that didn’t stop the slight shift in his expression.

And Moira, being who she was, appeared to notice it straight away with her own subtle look. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her gaze on him, “I shouldnae be telling ye this,” he said, standing tall, “but if it will lead tae avengin’ me faither, I believe I have nae choice.”

“Aye,” Moira agreed, her eyes sizing him up and down. “If there’s somethin’ ye believe will help this case, dinnae keep it from me o’ all people.”

Roderick stepped away, and he moved toward the far end of the study. His hand hovered over a shelf on the bookcase, brushing past the old titles, to an unassuming red book.

Without saying a word, he pressed the red book that was nestled on the far corner of the second shelf. A hidden lever clicked softly beneath his touch, and the bookcase gave way, sliding open with a low creak to reveal a narrow passageway.

The air beyond it was thick with dust, and the faint smell of old stone filled Roderick’s nose.

He looked back at Moira, who for the first time in a while, had a smile across her face.

“Now, Roderick,” she teased. “This is excitin’.”

Roderick's lips twitched into a reluctant smile at her enthusiasm. He knew better than to expect her to have apprehension or fear, but her reaction was amusing, and he liked her curiosity toward these things, more than he cared to admit.

“I thought ye might like it,” he said.

“I cannae believe ye were goin’ tae keep this from me,” she responded, walking toward him and the secret door.

“We’re supposed tae keep it from everyone,” he said. “It exists tae ensure the safety of our family, in case of an emergency or an attack.”

“An’ who else kens it exists?” Moira asked, bringing her candle toward the door. The light didn’t illuminate much, as the hallway led into what seemed like never-ending darkness.

“Aside from me maither,” Roderick said. “Nay one else kens about the passageways, an’ it needs tae be kept that way.”

“I swear it,” Moira said, holding up her free hand as if taking an oath. “Who am I goin’ tae tell, eh? Miss Barclay? Perhaps a castle cat?”

Roderick chuckled at her playful tone, shaking his head. "Aye, Miss Barclay might be intrigued, but I’d wager the cat has a better chance o’ spreading gossip."

They smiled at one another, before Moira peered again at the doorway, her eyes narrowing slightly as she appeared to consider the darkness beyond.

“I’d like tae walk along the passageways,” she said carefully. “To see where they lead.”

Roderick considered this for a moment, although his caution overpowered him, and he shook his head. “There’s nay need,” he said. “I can just tell ye. One leads outside, another will take ye directly tae the main chamber, an’ a final path will take ye tae the basement.”

“All right,” Moira said. “But I’d like tae see.”

Roderick sighed, recognizing the determination in her voice. Moira was not someone who took no for an answer, especially when her curiosity was piqued. He rubbed the back of his neck, casting a wary glance at the darkened corridor.

He wasn’t sure what good would come of him leading Moira through the passageways as far as their investigation was concerned, but if she felt that it was important then it was certainly worth a try.

“Fine,” he said. “Stay close behind me, an’ bring yer candle, I’ll bring another. The last thing we need is tae stumble about in the dark,” he chuckled.

“Aye, Roderick,” she said. “I’m right behind ye.”

Roderick stepped forward, holding his candle aloft as the warm glow flickered against the cold, damp walls. The air grew noticeably cooler as they ventured further into the narrow passageway that widened slightly as they walked.

Moira followed closely behind him, her footsteps sounding against the floor. It didn’t feel as strange as he had expected bringing someone in here, but maybe it was simply because it was her. Despite their bickering and misunderstandings, he sincerely felt he could trust her, even with a great family secret as this.

“There’s more space in here than I thought there would be,” Moira said, her voice echoing faintly off the stone walls.

“Aye,” Roderick said. “It gets wider the further ye go. Although nae exactly comfortable, it’s pretty good as far as hidden passageways go.”

“I’ve seen better,” Moira jested.

Roderick glanced over his shoulder, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, have ye now? An expert on hidden passageways, are ye?”

Moira smirked, the flickering candlelight catching a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, I’ve seen a few in me line o’ work, as ye can imagine. This one is good, perhaps it comes in second place, or third.”

Roderick chuckled, his voice resonating against the stone walls. “Second or third, eh? I suppose I should be flattered it’s even on yer list.”

Roderick continued smiling to himself. As they walked further along, he went to make another joke, when suddenly, he heard a noise.

The sound was faint but distinct—a low, muffled scraping that seemed to come from somewhere ahead. Roderick froze mid-step, his smile vanishing as his hand tightened around his candleholder, instinctively.

“Roderick,” Moira whispered, as she came behind him. “What is it?”

Roderick heard the noise again, this time louder, and he turned to Moira pressing her against the wall. He pulled her close, his breath shallow.

“Stay there,” he said. “Dinnae move.”

Moira didn’t respond. Her face was calm but her eyes betrayed a subtle hint of panic. Roderick knew she wouldn’t protest.

Being close to her stirred him for a second. But the desire to keep her safe took precedence. He left his candle with Moira and continued forward, withdrawing a small dagger from his belt.

As he neared the noise in the near dark, so as not to alert anyone to his presence, he was sure that he could see a figure lurking in the shadows ahead.

Roderick’s pulse quickened as he approached, every muscle in his body tense. He moved with deliberate, slow, steps so as not to provoke the figure too soon. His hand clasped around the dagger, cool and sharp in his hand.

In an instant, the concealed head of the figure turned and saw him in the shadows . Roderick hissed a couple of words under his breath when the figure immediately made a run for it down the passageway, boots slapping loudly against the stone floor.

The figure moved faster than Roderick had anticipated, and he sprung himself into action chasing, almost blindly in the dark, his right hand gripping his dagger.

Roderick caught up with the figure and tackled the stranger to the ground.

His breath came in sharp bursts as he wrestled with the stranger, both of them grappling across the floor. Roderick’s dagger had been knocked from his hand in the chaos, and now his fingers gripped the stranger’s shirt, trying to hold the person in place. The stranger kicked its legs out, throwing Roderick off balance, and in an instant, he fell to the ground.

He looked back to reach for his dagger, the passageway behind him illuminated by Moira’s light. She was creeping toward them, with a dagger of her own.

Roderick didn’t have time to think. He grasped his dagger from the floor and turned back to the figure, who he now saw was running away, further into the darkness ahead.

Roderick hissed, picking himself back up and racing forward toward the noise. He charged at the figure at full speed, his dagger in hand as he let out a cry. Roderick surged forward, and with a sudden, fluid movement, pierced the dagger into what seemed to be the back of the stranger’s leg.

The stranger faltered slightly, but escaped Roderick’s grasp, turning off into a side path. The sound of footsteps slowly quietening as it moved further and further away.

Roderick sprung back up, his eyes adjusting more and more to the darkness as he moved in the direction he believed the figure had gone. He saw one pathway, and then another. He turned around in a circle as he realized he’d reached a point that led to many different passages, each one shrouded in darkness.

He hissed, banging one hand against the stone in frustration that the figure had gotten away.

He walked back dejectedly towards where he had last seen Moira, his eyes scanning the passageways one last time before he turned. He was frustrated, but he was also cautious and wanted to make sure she was safe.

“Roderick,” she whispered, her eyes wide as he came toward her.

Roderick clenched his jaw, placing his dagger back into his belt. His eyes traveled up and down her body to make sure that she wasn’t harmed in any way.

“Why did ye move from where I told ye to stay?” He demanded. “It could have been dangerous. Are ye alright?”

Moira didn’t respond but somehow Roderick knew what she was going to say. He knew she’d tell him that she was no stranger to dangerous situations, or that she could handle herself. But he didn’t car. Even more than wanting to capture the strange, Roderick needed to know that she was unharmed.