by Mia Pride
Chapter 21
Liam was not even remotely pleased with Abigail’s offer to let Gwynneth stay behind. He also knew that, after the show he had to put on for Baine, and the mention of Fiona, he would be wise to keep his opinion on that subject to himself for the moment.
Gwynneth picked at the soft fur of the pelt mindlessly. It was a stalling tactic as she tried to delay the conversation they both knew was certain to follow. She had nothing to say to him, nothing nice anyway, and felt it best to stay silent, lest she say more words that she would later regret.
Feeling her reluctance to speak first, Liam grunted and took a seat next to Gwynneth on the bed. She still hadn’t attempted to redress and he knew she would not in front of him. The intimacy between them had been shattered and would need to be rebuilt, if she would ever allow it.
“I understand why you refused to marry me.” He blurted out the words before he even knew what he was saying. He supposed it was as good of a place to start as any.
“You mean, because you never told me that you were king?” Her words spilled out with angry force, but she couldn’t help feeling like so much of this could have been avoided if he hadn’t continuously kept truths from her.
“Aye, that.” His fingers lithely rubbed through his stubbly chin as he decided on a way to defend his omissions. “It didn’t seem important.” He winced as the words rolled off his tongue. That was neither an elegant, nor intelligent, response.
“Not important? My father forced me to leave you and marry Baine because you didn’t want to be king. I spent five years being tortured just so you could become king anyway. That’s not important?” Surprisingly, her voice was soft and calm.
“That’s not what I meant, Gwynneth. I meant that if you loved me and wanted to marry me, why would my status within the tuath matter?” This was the important question he had burned to ask and his pulse increased with anxiety as he awaited her answer.
Her cheeks burned red at his remark. His words almost exactly mirrored Abigael’s sentiments after he left. That woman had incredible instincts, Gwynneth thought to herself. Gwynneth sighed as she said, “Liam, I will love you every day for the rest of my life, whether you are a king or a serf.” The words came whooshing out of her in one long breath, forcing a sharp intake of air. “I did not understand why at the time, but all I knew was my father had spent his whole life trying to make sure I married a king. Not because of status, but because he truly believed it was my destiny, as a Sister of Danu.
“I could not simply throw away his lifelong beliefs without finding out why. I wanted to explain that to you, but you stormed out on me before I had a chance.” She stared into his eyes, carefully schooling her features.
“So tis true, then? You are a Sister of Danu…you have a third sister then?”
“If you had stayed, Liam, you would have heard the legend from Patrick. It is still shocking to me, but tis true. I feel it within me. Ceara is of the element fire and I am of water. We have another sister to find…tis all still very strange. It does explain a few things, though.”
“Aye. Like why you did not die when you jumped off the cliff into the waters. And why the bath water started to boil when you shouted at me.” Gwynneth’s mouth dropped. These thoughts had not even crossed her mind. She had not even realized, aside from the stream she had found in the woods, that she had ever controlled water.
“Aye, I suppose so. But it also explains why my father was determined to marry me to a king. All three sisters must marry kings---”
“Like the original Goddess Sisters of Danu,” he chimed in with his head nodding in remembrance of the legend he had so often heard as a child.
“Precisely. Only, papa misunderstood. I was destined to fall in love with the man who would one day become king. Not to be separated from the man I loved and forced to marry another man who wanted to be king. That is what he came to explain last night. He was so very sorry for what he had done, Liam.” She put her head down, missing her parents immensely. He lifted her chin with his finger and glared into her green eyes.
“The emerald eyes of the descendant of Dana.” His voice was in awe as he accepted the truth of the legend reflected within the depths of her eyes. “I’m sorry I left, Gwynn. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was king. I suppose I wanted you to choose me without that knowledge. I understand now why you did what you did.” He was still staring deeply into her eyes, running his finger up and down her cheek.
“It hurt terribly, Gwynn. I’ve lost you so many times. I’ve had to restrain myself emotionally…and physically,” his voice became slightly husky as he registered that she was still unclothed. “It was a painful blow to hear you say, on the night of our wedding, once again, that you could not marry me. All the pain from the first time came crashing down on me. I was overcome with anger. But mostly, it was grief.”
Seeing the genuine look in his eye, her features softened toward him, as did her heart. She was still hurting deep down from his harsh words of refusal during his confrontation with Baine, but staring into his eyes rendered her incapable of addressing her feelings.
She tore her gaze away from his, pulling her cheek away from his touch, and looked down at her hands. “Why did you tell Baine that you didn’t want me?”
He closed his eyes, knowing very well where this conversation was leading. “Gwynneth. He hurt you for five years because you loved me, and, because I loved you in return. He couldn’t control your heart and it made him furious. He took his anger out on your body, the one thing he could take from you.” He took a very deep breath and shakily let it out as he opened his eyes again.
“Do you not see? The only way I could get Baine to let his guard down was to make him think I was nay longer a threat to his relationship with you. Watching the blood drip from your neck…” he shook his head and touched her throat, circling her wound with one gentle finger, sending warmth through her body with his touch. “It took all my strength to not look at you, to not kill the bastard and send him to the Otherworld as he held that knife to you. Your life depended on him believing I nay longer love you.”
“Alright…I understand.” Gwynneth pushed his hand away from her neck. “But, who is Fiona?” There it was, the one detail he could not dismiss or simply explain away. Liam didn’t speak. He didn’t exactly know what to say. The truth needed to be said, and he and Gwynneth needed to leave for Iverni within the hour. How was he going to explain this in a way that would not break her heart? He could not risk her staying in Coraindt. He needed time to fix this…time he did not have. The truth of Fiona would only further destroy what had already been broken.
Deciding that his omissions and lies had only created a bigger cavern between them, he clenched his abdominal muscles, gathering all the strength in his core. He would need it to get through this next round of questioning. “What do you want to know, Gwynn? Ask. I promise to be truthful, about everything.” He sighed, but it did not calm his roiling stomach and the waves of anxiety threatening to break the surface of his cool exterior.
“How long have you known her?” she asked abruptly.
“Since I was a child.”
“How long have you KNOWN her?” Gwynneth’s brows lifted quizzically.
“Two years.” Keep breathing, Liam.
“Have you bedded her?” Please say you haven’t Liam, she pleaded in her mind.
Ach! By the horns of Cernunnos! “Aye.” His teeth were clenching.
“Often?” Her palms were sweating.
“Aye.” His chest was constricting.
“When was the last time you shared her bed?” Her throat was stinging with stifled tears.
“A few days before your accident.” He could no longer breathe. By all the gods, stop asking, Gwynneth.
“I see. Would you still be bedding her today, if I never had that accident?” She closed her eyes in preparation for his response.
“How can I know that, Gwynn?” He threw his arms up in frustration. “If Baine hadn’t tri
ed to kill you and you were still his wife, unattainable to me? Aye, aye I suppose so.” His stomach was aching from the stress.
“Does she love you?” Tears were brimming in her eyes.
“I believe she does, aye.” This is a disaster. He rested his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead in distress, trying to soothe away his pounding headache. Gwynneth was silent for a long moment, the longest moment of his life.
“Do you love her?” Her voice was but a whisper and her knuckles were turning white with the pressure of squeezing them in anger.
“NAY, Gwynneth! I love you! Och, by the gods! I love YOU!” That was it. He could not take any more questions. He was shaking with the anxiety and his stomach was threatening to spill onto the floor. He kneeled on the floor before her, holding her sweaty, shaking hand in his and caressing her arm, almost aggressively, as if he could convince her of his love simply by melting into her.
“Tis only ever been you, Gwynneth. Why do you think I’ve never married? How could I ever marry another woman as long as you were walking this earth...Gwynn.” Tears were rolling uncontrollably down his face. “Did I not deserve a single moment of comfort and happiness in my otherwise completely devoid life?”
Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut with determination to not meet his gaze. Tears were rolling down her face silently and her chin was quivering. “Do you suppose…” her voice was soft and slow, “that I have had even one moment of joy in the past five years? Was I allowed comfort and happiness from the partner of my choosing?”
She opened her eyes and they beamed with fury at him. “Nay. I was being forced, bitten, tied up, slapped, bruised…completely broken from the inside out all because of my undying love for YOU. While you were rolling around naked with Fiona, enjoying ‘comfort and happiness’, I was suffering immensely, with nothing to comfort me but my confidence that you were out there thinking of me, too. But now I see. All those nights I was being ripped apart by Baine, you were in bed with her.”
She gulped in a lungful of air, trying to breathe through the endless ache in her heart. “And she was laying with Baine, as well. Did you even know that, Liam? Both men that should have loved me, were loving her instead.” Gwynneth’s face dropped down into her hands and she kicked him away from her, curling herself into a ball.
“Go away, Liam.”
“Gwynneth. Nay, don’t do this. Don’t make me go. Not again, I cannot bear it. Just say you will marry me and forget the pain of all of this. We can finally be together, Gwynn. Don’t push me away.”
“I can’t look at you right now Liam. Deep down, I understand why you did it. And I know I’m being selfish. But right now, I cannot stop thinking about you…with her. It feels like a betrayal of the worst kind, simply because you had the freedom to choose happiness, where I had none.” She stopped talking for a moment and clenched at her abdomen. “I think I’m going to be sick again and I don’t want you here. Just go.” Her voice was flat, but final.
“I will leave, but only for one hour. I will be back for you and I hope that you will be ready to depart…with me. I’m not leaving without you.” With that final exchange floating between them, he stood up off of the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. As he stepped out the door stiffly, Liam could hear her sobs as he walked away.
Chapter 22
Liam kicked the dirt in fury as he threw curses up into the dawn sky. Why was he hurting Gwynneth, even if unintentionally, at every turn? Did she really wish that he had been lonely all those years? She should be happy that he had some comfort. Deep down, he knew asking her to understand was impossible. Even he could keenly feel the injustice of it all.
She had never really been loved physically by a man, never known what real love making, without the abuse, felt like. Knowing that he had been able to experience that, while she was being treated as property by Baine made his stomach clench with hatred.
Liam focused on that hatred. It most definitely was exaggerated by Baine’s poor treatment of Gwynneth, and the knowledge that she kept it hidden for years, allowing nobody to help her. What if, he wondered to himself, Baine had been the perfect husband, tender, loving and kind? Would it comfort him more? Would he hate Baine any less? He thought about Gwynneth wreathing in ecstasy beneath Baine’s body as he gently made love to her, and it fueled his blood with a murderous rage.
Nay, he would hate Baine just the same. It was human nature to feel hatred, jealously, and even betrayal where none truly existed, when the one you love was with another. This was how Gwynneth was feeling, he realized. Imagining him naked and making love to another woman created jealousy deep within her, just as it did for him. She, however, was never in control of her own body. Baine commanded her at his will. Liam, with full control over his own actions, found a woman and bedded her for years. Though he had not been physically bound to Gwynneth, they had always been bound together in spirit. This felt like a betrayal to her soul and he understood that.
Perhaps being with a few women only once would have hurt Gwynneth less than him being with one woman repeatedly for years. Had Fiona really been sharing a bed with Baine as well? The news did not surprise him in the least. They had never been committed to one another and he knew Fiona had many admirers. Though this information did not cause him even a shred of hurt, it infuriated him further, knowing that Gwynneth was right. Both men who claimed to love her, were sharing a bed with the same woman. Just imagining how that must make her feel made him want to curse the gods and punch a wall. It was a wonder the gods had not struck him with lightning for all the cursing he had done lately.
He sighed loudly, starting to comprehend better her outburst of emotions. He knew he was innocent of any wrong doing, but he also knew that wasn’t going to make her feel better. He would have to take this a step at a time, if he was ever to repair his relationship with Gwynneth. More than anything, he wanted to be her husband. That reality, which was so close only a day ago, felt like a lifetime away now. His first task was to load up for Iverni and pray to all the gods that Gwynneth wouldn’t refuse to return with him.
He had reached Garreth’s home just as Ceara was walking out. “How is Gwynneth?” she said with concern as she put a hand out to touch Liam’s arm, hoping to hear good news.
He lowered his head and shook it. “She is alright, unharmed for the most part, though she has been through so much since her accident. She is a stronger woman that we all can imagine.” She nodded at him and started to towards Abigael’s house to visit Gwynn.
“Ceara…” he turned to stop her before she continued, “Gwynneth is…very distraught, and a lot of it has to do with me. I love her more than anything. I would never hurt her. I hope you know that.” His features were twisted in agony. “Please, help her pack, she needs to come home. I’m afraid she will choose to stay here, but I cannot live without her, Ceara. Please…”
He was a large, intimidating man, especially with his large horned helm and war-painted chest. But all Ceara saw in that moment were broken remnants of a desperate man. Feeling her heart constrict in sympathy for the torrid love affair Liam and Gwynn had to endure, she gave him a friendly smile and a nod as she walked toward her mother’s house.
Liam entered the house and found King Garreth speaking to Duncan. They looked up at Liam and he saw how grave their faces were. “What’s the plan, Duncan? Are the brothers packing up for the ride home?”
“Aye, they are readying the horses and saddling up. Abigael is gathering provisions. Garreth has been kind enough to let us keep horses to travel with and is supplying blankets and weapons.” Scratching his head in mental review of their supplies, he looked up at Liam and frowned, “Baine still has men about. We don’t know where, or how many. Nor do we know how loyal they are, what they have been promised in exchange for their services, or if they will attempt to release him from the hold. Garreth has them both guarded by four warriors…”
Duncan’s voice trailed off and he looked behind Liam with curiosity. “Where’s Gwynneth?”<
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“Packing.” Liam’s voice was clipped with irritation and Duncan knew better than to inquire further. Putting a hand on his hip and pacing the floor, Liam decided it would be best to update Duncan on his conversation with Gwynneth. “She found out about Fiona, and she isn’t happy with me. Not one bit.”
A loud chortle escaped Duncan’s nose and Liam whirled around to face him, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, really. Just, well, it was bound to happen, is all. She will get over it. She was Baine’s wife. What were ye supposed to do? Be celibate the rest of your life?”
“AYE! She seems to think so.” Liam shook his head in frustration and ran his fingers through his chestnut hair. “She feels ‘betrayed’ by me. Tis as if I am to be denied happiness at every turn. Now I’m not even sure if she will come back to Iverni with me.”
Duncan released another grunt. “That’s women for ye. Listen to me, Liam…ye need to tame the mare, she is not married anymore.” His voice lowered as he lifted his brushy red brows suggestively.
“Duncan! She was just assaulted by Baine! She just found out that I shared Fiona’s bed for years while she was being abused! I don’t think she is anywhere near letting me touch her.”
He growled in frustration and spun away from Duncan to leave the house. “I can’t discuss her anymore. I need to load up my horse and get us on the road home. I’m going to find the brothers. You need to find Abigael and help her pack our rations.” Liam stormed out of the house and headed for the stables.
“I’m not going.” Ceara helped Gwynneth pull a borrowed dark pink dress over her head. Circling her with a satisfied smile at the perfect way the dress hugged Gwynneth’s every curve, she cinched a leather belt around her waist as a finishing touch. She pulled Gwynneth’s hair out of the neckline of the dress and ran her fingers through her sister’s hair.