Page 19 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

CHAPTER EIGHT

The knock came just after sunset.

Moyra looked up from the letter she’d been writing to Kirstin—her third attempt, each one trying to strike the right balance between reassurance and truth. Catriona had already collected the first two drafts for Euan’s review.

“Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Euan himself, still in his day clothes but with his dark hair slightly windswept, as if he’d just come from the battlements. Those grey eyes found hers immediately.

“I thought ye might like some air,” he said without preamble. “And I did promise ye stars.”

He heart skipped. “Now?”

“Unless ye’d rather stay inside writing letters.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Though I should warn ye—the view from the ramparts is far superior to anything ye’ll see from yer window.”

She was on her feet before she’d fully thought it through, setting down her quill. “I’d like that very much.”

He produced a thick plaid from somewhere—wool of the color of midnight, soft and warm. “Ye’ll need this. The wind cuts sharp up there.”

She let him drape it around her shoulders, catching the scent of leather and pine that seemed to cling to everything he owned. Then he led her through corridors she’d never seen, up a narrow spiral staircase that made her calves burn, until finally they emerged onto Dunvegan’s highest rampart.

The stars were close enough to touch.

Moyra moved to the edge of the rampart, and stared up at a sky so vast it made her chest ache. Three months. Three endless months since she’d seen anything beyond stone walls and iron bars, and now the heavens spread above her like spilled diamonds on black velvet.

“Careful, lass.” Euan’s deep voice rumbled behind her, close enough that she felt the warmth radiating from his massive frame. “The wind up here can be treacherous.”

“I dinnae care.” The words came out breathless, wonder-struck. “I’d risk falling just to see this.”

She felt rather than saw his smile. “Then at least step back from the edge so I dinnae have tae explain tae Brighde why her patient went tumbling off me battlements.”

Moyra moved back slightly, but only because his hand had settled on her lower back—a touch so light she might have imagined it, yet it sent fire racing up her spine. Saints, but the man’s mere presence did dangerous things to her composure.

“There.” He pointed toward the northern sky, his arm extending past her shoulder. “See that cluster of stars? The one that looks like a ladle?”

She followed his direction, acutely aware of how close he stood, how his chest nearly pressed against her back. “Aye, the Big Dipper.”

“That’s right. Part of the Great Bear, which sailors use it tae find true north when the seas get rough.” His voice dropped lower, taking on the cadence of someone sharing secrets. “Me faither used tae bring me up here when I was a lad. Said a MacLeod should ken the stars as well as he kens his own lands.”

The mention of his father made something twist in her chest. She’d heard stories—how the old laird had been gravely wounded at Loch Eilein, how young Euan had been forced to watch and carry scars of his own. “Did he teach ye all the constellations?”

“Aye. Every last one.” He shifted, pointing to another section of sky. “That one there—the W shape? That’s Cassiopeia. A vain queen who thought herself more beautiful than the sea nymphs.”

“And what happened to her?” Moyra tilted her head back, following his gesture.

“The gods punished her pride. Bound her tae a chair in the heavens, forced tae circle the pole star fer all eternity.” His tone held dry amusement. “A cautionary tale about thinking too highly of yerself.”

She laughed, the sound surprising them both. “Are ye trying tae tell me something, Laird MacLeod?”

“Only that even queens cannae escape their fate.” But there was warmth in his voice now, something that made her pulse quicken. “Though I’ll admit, being trapped in the stars seems preferable tae some alternatives.”

Like dungeons. He didn’t say it, but the unspoken words hung between them.

Moyra turned to face him, and suddenly realized how close they were standing. Close enough to see the exact way the starlight caught in his grey eyes, turning them silver. Close enough to count the faint scars that marked his jaw and temple. Close enough to feel the heat of him cutting through the Highland cold.

“Thank ye, Euan” she said quietly. “Fer bringing me up here. I ken it’s a risk.”

“Ye gave yer word ye wouldnae try tae escape.” His gaze held hers steadily. “I’m trusting that word means something.”