“This letter is giving us the full history,” Errol said, shaking his head. “Back then we werenae enemies. We were one. Fighting side by side. I dinnae believe it.”
“Ye must.” She held up the letter, shaking it in the air. “’Tis all written here. It has been here all along, just waiting for it to be found.” She took a deep breath. “I am almost scared to read on. Right now, they are happy, bringing peace across the land. I ken when I read on, that will all be shattered. And I dinnae wish to see that.”
Errol drew Moira close to his side and gently kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. His scent. When had she crossed the line in seeing Errol as more than just Anna’s older brother? Seeing him as more than a means to an end.
She wasn’t sure, but she kenned that now that she had gotten a taste of what it felt like to be in Errol’s arms, she never wanted to be in the position where he wasn’t nearby ever again.
“Ye ken that things dinnae end well for them. We’ve already learned that. We just dinnae ken the why and how of it. I am sure that by the time ye finish reading we will have those answers.”
“But I am no’ sure I want those answers.”
He smiled and tipped her chin up to him. His eyes bore into hers for a long moment before they dropped to her lips. She darted her tongue out, wetting them. She suddenly felt parched, but not for ale. Would he kiss her?
He looked like he wanted to.
Did she want him to?
Aye. She did. Very much so.
“Kiss me, Errol,” she whispered.
“I shouldnae, Lass,” he said quietly. “But I find the more time I spend in yer presence, the less control I have to deny ye.”
With that, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss that she felt all the way to the tips of her toes. He groaned when she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue entry. He ran it along the seam of her lips afore sweeping it into her mouth and their tongues twisted against each other in a seductive dance that Moira wanted more of.
When they parted, they were both gasping for air, their chests rising and falling with each ragged breath.
“As much as I am enjoying the taste of yer lips, Lass, we need to stop.” He pointed to the parchment she still clasped in her hands. “We need to finish their story.”
“Mayhap I want to continueourstory.”
He chuckled, the sound foreign to her ears. But she found she enjoyed it and wanted to hear it again.
“As do I,” he admitted and she wanted to clap in victory, but she remained still, watching the struggle play across his face. She kenned he was waging a war within himself.
She had too, but gave in long ago, understanding that she would never be able to let this man go.
“If we continue whate’er is building betwixt us, ’twill no’ be done in a cave.”
“When we continue,” she corrected him.
He kissed her on the nose. “Aye. When.”
Happy with his answer, she turned and leaned her back against his chest once again and focused her attention back on the letter, dreading what she kenned was not going to be the happy ending she wanted for the couple. No matter how much she wished for it, their tragedy had already happened. It couldn’t be changed now.
“Continue,” Errol urged.
Moira found the spot she’d left off and began reading again. The letter talked about the son they’d borne. And a daughter.
Her and Errol’s gazes clashed, his mouth turned down in a frown. “A daughter? We didnae see any mention of a wee lassie being born, did we?”
Moira shook her head. “There wasnae any word about another bairn, laddie or lassie.”
‘Our dear daughter, Agnes, was a lovelylass.
Full of sunshine, she brightened the room wherever shewent.
But we ne’er could have fathomed the untimely death she wouldmeet.’
