Page 58 of Highland Fire

“And then ye will go to battle.” She was not sure she completely disguised her shiver of fear.

“That is how it must be. Iver will fight to hold what he has stolen from me.” He took her hand in his, kissing her palm. “Dinnae fret o’er me, dearling. I can win this.”

She tugged her hand free of his as the pages and maids set the food on the table. “I wasnae worried about you in particular, Sir Tavig. I but dislike the idea of men hacking away at each other with swords.”

“Sometimes men are given no other choice. How did ye pass your day? I ken that ye visited with Adair, for ’tis where I saw ye the last time I was able to exchange a few brief words with you.”

“Weel, I was dragged about the keep by your cousin. He wished to show me what a fine life he could offer me.” She put some venison on her plate, covertly watching Tavig, who scowled darkly at Mungan.

“So that is why he so amiably allowed me to talk to Iver’s mon alone. I sought to keep Mungan from too vehemently questioning the mon, perhaps injuring him too much, so we would get nothing from him. Mungan sought to steal some time to court ye, then?”

“Aye, I suppose ye can call it courting.” Moira decided she would not tell Tavig about Mungan’s pursuit of her. The man had hunted her down several times during the day until she had given serious consideration to hiding.

“And that is why your cousin is so angry with you.”

“Una is certain that I am trying to take Mungan away. There is no talking sense to her. She even asked me to give her the tower house so that Mungan will hie after her. She has plagued me about that all day. In her eyes I am selfish beyond words because I will not give away the tower house.” She sent him a cross look when he opened his mouth to speak. “If ye say ye warned me about this, I shall hit you.”

“Ye would deprive a mon of the chance to boast that he was right?”

“I would. I have no wish to suffer your gloating. That scowling pair at the head of the table is as much as I can bear for the moment. There is no talking to either of them. They are stubborn, and at times during this verra long day I began to think they might be deaf as weel.”

Tavig laughed, and her disapproving look did nothing to end his amusement. “Now, sweet Moira, ye must see how funny it all is.” When she glared at him, he cleared his throat. “Weel, mayhap not just now.”

“Nay, not now. All I wish to do now is crawl into a hole and stay there until our cousins sort themselves out. Mungan may want my lands, but he doesnae want me. He wants Una, and she wants him.”

“Aye, ’tis clear to see, although methinks Mungan doesnae ken it. He is too intent upon getting that tower house. I understand what ails him for I have just discovered that I have been briefly blinded by my urgent need to regain my holdings, to avenge myself against Iver. ’Tis all I thought about and nearly missed noting one or two of the advantages Mungan and I have over Iver. Being so intent upon one thing can be dangerous. ’Tis certainly unwise. I now see the danger and will be wary. The question is, how do we get Mungan to see it?”

“After what I have been through today I cannae believe that will be easy.”

“Nay, nor quick, and your kinsmen will soon be here.”

Moira silently cursed and turned her attention to her meal. She had a strong urge to scream or bang her head against the heavy oak table. She felt as if she were being pulled in many different directions. Everyone was demanding something of her, but no one was considering her feelings at all. Not even Tavig, she mused, stabbing at a piece of venison with her eating knife. He spoke of marriage as a solution to the problems she now faced, and those problems would disappear if she agreed to marry him, but he had his own reasons, too. She could not believe he would take such a large step to satisfy some whim of fate, but he spoke of nothing else.

It all gave her a throbbing ache in her head. She wished they would all go away and leave her alone. It was not to be, and, glancing at Tavig, she admitted that she did not wish to lose any of what little time she might have left with Tavig, no matter how he might annoy her on occasion. She dearly wished they would give her time to think, however. So much had changed in her life since yesterday, since the moment Mungan had shown her the tower house she owned, that she needed to think about it all. One quick peek at Una, Mungan, and Tavig told her she would not get that time. They all had their own games to play, and for the moment she was little more than a pawn. Such inconsideration on Una’s and Mungan’s part annoyed her. On Tavig’s part, however, it hurt her.

“Ah, another fine feast,” Mungan said as the table was cleared of all save the tankards of ale. He sprawled in his huge chair, his gaze fixing on Moira as he rubbed one big hand back and forth over his taut stomach. “Now, Moira, lass, a battle is brewing, so we had best get on with this courting business.”

“Oh, weel put, Cousin,” muttered Tavig, torn between amusement and annoyance. He did not like Mungan pursuing Moira, but the man was so inept at the art of courtship it was laughable.

Mungan ignored Tavig. “’Tis said by some that a lass likes to have a wee stroll about when the moon is up.”

“Aye, ’tis verra nice,” agreed Moira.

Tavig watched Una. The woman was so furious her eyes glowed with the emotion, and her cheeks were flushed a deep red. It was highly inconsiderate of Mungan to talk about wooing Moira while he held Una’s hand. What troubled Tavig, however, was how Una was directing her fury at Moira and not at Mungan where it belonged. Moira was not encouraging Mungan and did not deserve that anger. Unfortunately, Una would not turn it toward Mungan, for she loved the man.

“Weel, then, I can take ye for another stroll about the inner bailey,” Mungan cried.

“Nay,” Moira cried, smiling quickly. “I fear I am still weary from our last walk.”

“Aye? But that was hours ago.” He scowled at her then looked at Tavig, saying, “She doesnae seem to be a verra strong lass. How did ye get her here?”

Moira first gaped at Mungan, then looked so beautifully outraged that Tavig was hard-pressed not to laugh. “She walked, Mungan. Walked, climbed, waded through water and occasionally ran.”

“Ah, I see.” He nodded then smiled at Moira. “Ye need to rest more from your journey. We can go for a wee amble tomorrow eve. Ye will be recovered by then.” He looked at Una. “Do ye wish to go?”

Tavig managed to hold back his laughter until Una and Mungan left the great hall. One look at Moira’s face broke his restraint. She looked stunned. As he laughed, she controlled herself and glared, first at the door their cousins had strolled through, then at Tavig.

“I cannae believe she went with him.” Moira took a long drink of ale, banged her tankard back down on the table, and shook her head. “He speaks of courting me, tries to take me outside for another swift race about the bailey, and, when I say nay, he asks her. Doesnae Una have any pride?”