Her brother was an avid mountaineer. He loved being outside hiking and climbing mountains. If there was a sheer cliff, he’d be sure to scale it.
Rory looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”
She shrugged, keeping her face neutral. “Just curious, is all. Mayhap I would like to take up hiking.”
“Nay. Absolutely no’.” He wagged his finger at her. “I dinnae want to be responsible for ye scaling a mountain. Or a cliffside. Or e’en a hill for that matter.”
She uncrossed her arms and pierced him with a glare. “Ye act as if I’ve no skill when it comes to those things.”
He nodded. “Aye. Because ye dinnae.” Turning on his heel, he left her to once again gaze out the window and try to come up with a planthat would get her from Hartsmoor and over to the MacLeod keep.
It wasn’t safe for her to travel alone, yet she couldn’t take anyone along with her. Her brothers and sisters couldn’t be asked. Especially her sisters, Eilidh in particular. For certs she would run to their mother and tell her what Moira was up to.
She supposed she could take Seema, her maid, but she would be met with disapproval from her as well.
Then she thought of the frequent visitors, unaffiliated to a clan, that arrived at Hartsmoor all of the time. If she didn’t dress in Hart colors and instead dressed like a village girl, it was possible that neither clan would pay her any attention as they wouldn’t ken which clan she belonged to. They could assume that she belonged to one of the villages that remained neutral and unaffiliated. That would be her greatest chance of crossing onto MacLeod lands and getting to Errol.
As the plan formed in her mind, she tried not to think about her parents and siblings. Their reactions would be furious. If caught, her father would for certs lock her in her bedchamber with a guard posted at the door and not let her out until she was married off.
Moira shuddered at the thought.
She kenned her father was actively keeping his eyes and ears open for a good match for her. She was thankful that he was a caring man and would be very stringent in his choice. He ensured Moira that it would be someone whom she could see herself spending the rest of her life with, but she wasn’t ready yet. She didn’t want to be married at this time.
Her life was hers right now, as much as it could be anyway, and she enjoyed having her days—and nights—to herself.
Pushing away from the window with a sigh, she tried to come up with an excuse for her to leave the gates. She’d done it afore and had never had an issue. Why was she so hesitant this time?
Because she was traveling to the MacLeod lands. That’s why.
If her parents were to find out they would be enraged with her.Her brothers, too.
Never mind the potential danger she was putting herself in. Not only herself, her family and clan as well.
It would have been best if Anna could have convinced Errol to help. Then they could have met halfway.
Moira wondered what her best friend was doing. She was grateful that her parents, along with Anna’s father agreed, although with much ire, to allow them to remain friends. She didn’t understand this constant need to be at odds with each other.
Long ago she’d asked her father what the reason was for the strife betwixt the two clans. He’d just shaken his head and shrugged as he shooed her away, telling her not to burden herself with such worrisome topics.
She’d long believed that the reason had been lost through the years since she could never get an answer.
A knock sounded at the door and Seema, her maid, entered.
“Seema. Is ma downstairs?”
“I believe she is in her drawing room with her maid and Morven. They are doing needlepoint.”
Moira scrunched her nose. Of course, her youngest sister was at her mother’s side. And doing needlepoint. She shuddered. It was a task she couldn’t stand.
It was also one that she wasn’t very good at. She would much rather be reading through the tomes in the family annals.
“’Tis a lovely day out and I fancy a walk through the woods,” she announced.
Seema’s eyes narrowed. “I ken that look. What are yer true plans?”
Moira shushed her and feigned offense. “Ye must admit it looks beautiful today.”
“I will admit to no such thing,” Seema drawled.
