Highland Devil (Murray Family #22)

Once inside, Gybbon saw that Jolene appeared, so he had to satisfy his annoyance by just glaring at the man. That only widened Sigimor’s grin. Gybbon watched as the brothers came in with Mora and Andrew. It was good to see the boy so happy, he thought. Glancing toward Mora, settled snugly between her two brothers, Gybbon sighed. He was the only one not completely pleased with the situation. He sat down next to Sigimor and helped himself to some food.

Mora was delighted to have her brothers home safe and alive, but she was getting the urge to bang their heads together. She had spent a lot of time in that cell recalling the private times she had shared with Gybbon, remembering how his touch had made her feel and hungering to feel that way again. Her brothers, however, made it clear with their actions that they were determined to protect her virtue from this big, bad man. She was tempted to tell them that what they so assiduously protected was gone days ago.

Suddenly she remembered that the bedchamber she had had was right next to Gybbon’s. If he wished to come to her, she would fulfill what had been a sustaining dream during her time in that dungeon. She just hoped her brothers would not go so far as to guard her door. If they did, Mora thought she just might have to beat them with a stick.

“I think Freya has missed ye,” said Andrew.

“Oh, I ken it.” She looked at Harcourt. “I hope she has nay been bothering Annys too much.”

“Nay anymore. Brought her here.”

“Then, where is she?”

“Upstairs in your bedchamber. I had not meant to put her there, but I picked up the bag and she was in it. Held the door open and she would not come, just sat there next to that bag.”

“Oh, dear.” Mora watched David put some meat on her plate and wished it was Gybbon doing it. “She will be showing her displeasure with me.”

Niall laughed. “Mora, it is just a cat.”

“A cat that eats at the table when she feels inclined. Gets my wife to cut up some food for her.” Sigimor frowned down at his full plate. “She doesnae cut up my meat.”

“Of course not, you have hands,” Jolene pointed out.

“Aye, clever things.” He wiggled his fingers in her face, then slipped his hand under the table and Jolene squealed. She then blushed bright red and slapped him on the arm. “Rude, rude man!”

Ignoring her, Sigimor went back to eating and Mora shook her head. They were a wonderful couple but as mismatched as any could be. Jolene was a very proper lady and Sigimor was a rough, somewhat uncivilized man, but they suited. She realized she really wanted to meet the daughters they had made together.

“We will be leaving tomorrow if it doesnae rain,” said Sigimor as he helped himself to more bread. “Need to get my lassies back from Ilsa before they drive her mad.”

“She has been raising Odo, so I think she can manage our girls. And we sent her plenty of help.”

“Aye, mayhap, but there is only one of Odo.”

“Who is Odo? Her child?”

“Nay. He is hers now, but he was a foundling,” replied Jolene.

Mora listened in fascination about Ilsa’s husband, who had taken in bairns left at his gates, claiming them as his or accepting the blame the women claimed was his, and raising them. Her life suddenly seemed very boring, ordinary, despite the tragedy that had struck it. She had certainly not seen much of the world and could now see that she had not experienced a large part of what life offered. The truth had to be faced, she decided. She simply was not a person who sought out adventure. Mora loved the stories, however, and Jolene was in the mood to tell a lot.

When she finally made her way to her bedchamber, Mora had had enough of men. Sigimor was taunting Gybbon in some strange, mostly silent way she did not understand, and her brothers had kept poking at Gybbon trying to discover what his interest in their sister might be. She thought it very arrogant of Niall and David to think that, after three years away, they could walk back in and control her life. She had never much liked their bonding together on such a matter before they had left to go trotting all over France.

She stepped into the room she had been given and saw her bag with an angry-looking Freya sitting next to it, her tail flicking wildly. Running over to the bed, she picked up her cat, ignoring the growls of displeasure, and stroked her. Silly as it was to get so attached to an animal, she had missed her cat while stuck in her uncle’s cell. Just petting the cat calmed her.

“Now, Freya, calm down. I hadnae expected to be gone so long. Thought I could talk sense to my uncle, but I should have kenned better. He is a mon. Men dinnae heed what a woman says. If ye feel like scratching someone to show your displeasure just give me a moment to fetch Niall and David.”

She got up and got ready for bed. Donning her night shift, she washed up, then cleaned her teeth. She took a moment to rub some of Jolene’s cream on her scar and firmly reminded herself to get the instructions for making it before she left. Hurrying back to bed, she got beneath the covers, welcoming the warmth, and smiled when Freya curled up beside her.

Mora wished she was curling up with Gybbon. It was odd that she would pine for something she had only known twice. Yet, she did. She closed her eyes and reached out for sleep. Keeping her breathing deep and even, she soon felt the tug of sleep. Soon she would have to go home with her brothers and might never see Gybbon again. Mora fought to push that thought away for it interrupted her slide into sleep.

Gybbon was walking to his bedchamber wondering how he could get in to be with Mora when he was surprised to find Sigimor there waiting for him. “Why are ye lurking around my door? Shouldnae ye be with Jolene?”

“She will wait for me. Mora’s brothers are watching ye verra closely.”

“I ken it.”

“So mayhap ye should make up your mind about what ye want to do with the lass.” He held up his hand to stop Gybbon’s reply. “Aside from that. They catch ye at that and ye will be beaten and toted to a priest. So be certain ye are ready to run that risk.”

“Weel, nay sure what I want in the end, but I at least have some land to build a good, solid, fortified manor on. To be honest, I dinnae ken if I am looking to stay in one place, settle with one woman, maybe have a bairn or twa, or if ’tis just an urge to stop for a wee while. Yet I find myself nay concerned if those two lads drag me and Mora before a priest.”

“At least ye have thought on it. Get in your room and, if ye are a daring fool, walk up to the hearth and push on the wall to the right of it. See ye in the morning. Oh, and lock the doors.”

Gybbon shook his head and went into the room. He shut the door and stared at it for a moment, then took the key off the hook on the door frame and locked the door. He was surprised Sigimor had some of the more expensive types of locks on his inside doors, but the man did like some things that displayed “I have money” to anyone who came round. Gybbon bet the man had the most elaborate and costly lock on his own bedchamber.

Next, he walked over to the hearth and stared at the wall but could see nothing. He pushed on the wall and it slowly opened. He grinned and stepped into Mora’s bedchamber. Gybbon had the feeling that little door was from the time of Sigimor’s father, and hoped the mon had not used it to be false to his wife.