Taking his sister’s hand, Niall once more glanced over his shoulder before he leant down to Blair. “Ye know Father doesna approve. Why do ye always have to go and talk to her? She’s a dangerous woman; perhaps even a witch.” A shudder seemed to grip his small shoulders.
Blair snorted, “I’m too old to believe in fairy tales, and ye should be too.” And with that she raced ahead, leaving her brother behind looking a little forlorn.
Despite the severity of the situation she found herself in, Moira could not help but smile at the girl’s reply, wishing deep down that Blair’s words could be true. If only her gift was something out of a fairy tale. Something that was not true, was not real, and could not hurt anyone. It certainly would have kept her from making the biggest mistake of her life and it would not constantly force her to make impossible decisions.
Always had her dreams come to pass, and Moira had come to trust in them without hesitation. And then her world had crumbled around her, teaching her a painful lesson. Blind faith would not be rewarded. Nevertheless, she knew she could not ignore her dreams.
After all, they came when they chose. What was she to do? How was she to know which to trust and which to be wary of? Which spoke of a danger to be prevented? Or of a promise that needed her aid to be fulfilled? And which were only a taunt, a tease, a test?
Each time, a new dream found her, Moira wished they would simply leave her alone. Long ago, she had felt honoured to have had such a gift bestowed upon her. But no more. Now, she had rather be like everyone else: unburdened and free.
Still, she had no say in the matter. The only choice she did have was whether to act…or not.
Again, she allowed her thoughts to stray to the dream that had come to her the night before wondering what she ought to do. Ought she pretend it had never happened and keep two people from finding one another? Or ought she to try and help and point them in the right direction?
Moira sighed. What she had always thought of as helping, others might call interfering.
Others like Ian MacDrummond.
And if he found out, he would not look kindly on her.
Chapter Two - A Favour Asked
Cormag’s eyes lingered on the golden-haired, young woman sitting beneath the small grove of trees. He saw little Blair run up to her, a smile on her young face, and he noted the way her elder brother Niall watched the two of them with the same hateful distrust Cormag often saw in the lad’s father.
Sighing, Cormag pressed his open palms to the rough stone of the parapet wall as he stood atop the walkway, which granted its visitors a spectacular as well as strategic view of the land surrounding Seann Dachaigh Tower.
Ian MacDrummond had always been a friend, a good friend, and Cormag cherished his friendship as much as he cherished Garrett’s and Finn’s. Despite their differences in temperament and character, the four of them had always walked through life side by side: training together, studying together, growing up together.
Now, they all were trying to find their place in this world. While Ian had married young, becoming a husband and father, Cormag had always known that he himself would take over as laird of Clan MacDrummond upon his father’s passing.
That had been three years ago, and life had been different ever since.
No longer could Cormag allow the twists and turns of every day to guide his feet. While Finn and Garrett seemed to drift here and there, not bound to anything but their clan, Cormag knew that he needed to follow his head instead of his heart. He had a duty now. A duty that always came first.
It had to.
For the good of the clan.
As he watched Moira speak to little Blair, Cormag knew that when it came to the young woman from Clan Brunwood, he often failed to remain emotionally detached. Not that anyone would notice, for over the years Cormag had learnt to perfect a mask of interested indifference, one that had served him well in his position as laird.
No doubt, his mask was as perfect as it was because he worked every day to maintain a certain distance between himself and others, keeping it fixed in place to ensure that his head decided wisely without regard for his heart’s momentary desires. Unfortunately, that distance seemed to slip away whenever Moira drew near.
The day she had walked into his study two years ago, Cormag had known that something was different. He had felt her standing on the other side of his desk, and without even laying eyes on her, he had sensed her spirit, her strength, her sorrow, but also her pride, her defiance, her recklessness. He had known that life would never be the same again if he allowed her to stay.
And yet, he had.
Cormag remembered well the moment he had drawn in a deep breath, bracing himself for the heart-stopping sensation of having her eyes looking back into his. He had turned with apprehension, and the moment he had seen the shimmering blue of her dark eyes, he had known that his life would never be the same again.
Indeed, it had been a constant battle ever since.
Closing his eyes, Cormag willed himself to turn away from the scene before him, and with determination, he strode down the wall-walk and headed back into the castle. His footsteps were heavy as he turned down the staircase and found his way back to his study. And all the while, his heart pounded with a fierceness that made him grit his teeth and curse the day Moira Brunwood had come to Seann Dachaigh Tower.
Closing the door behind him, Cormag strode purposefully toward his desk. After all, there were matters that needed his attention. Clan matters. People depended on him, and he would
