Enticing the Weary Warrior

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “I didn’t suggest any such thing. I think I should hire someone to serve as a chaperone.”

  “I still don’t want to attend any unnecessary events.”

  “Believe me, I feel the same,” Megan said. “Is that coffee?”

  “Would you like some?”

  “Only if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “You know some people consider it too stimulating to drink. Keeps them awake,” Liam said as he pumped water into the kettle.

  “I find other things stimulate me of late,” Megan said coyly.

  Liam shot a glance at her and cocked his brow. His stomach chose that moment to growl.

  “I’ll be back in a moment.” Megan jumped from her seat and flew out of the room. He heard pounding up and down the stairs before she reappeared. She held up a small bag. “Mother Davis insisted I take this and since we always stopped at inns to eat on the journey here, I forgot I had it.”

  “What is it?”

  She reached inside the bag and pulled out several wrapped items. “The bread is probably a bit hard by now, but should still be edible.” She unwrapped and laid out bread, cheese, chicken, and apples.

  “You have a feast there.”

  “So it would seem.”

  “Should you invite Hamrick?”

  “At this hour? No, I’ll save some back for him,” she said.

  “You’re close to the old man.”

  “We’ve spent a lot of time together. After John passed, well, even before that, I spent more time at the horse farm than I did at John’s estate.”

  “John was your husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you love him?” Liam wondered what had possessed him to ask that question.

  “Not as a wife should.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t, but then again, no one really does. Now I get to ask you a question. What happened to you in the five years you were gone?”

  “Which time?”

  “Pick one.”

  “I faked my death shortly after I left Scotland to infiltrate the French military. I worked my way up through the ranks quickly so I could get close to Bonaparte.”

  “Were you in battles?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you kill Englishmen?”

  “I hope not, but there is a greater likelihood that I did. When did you marry Lord Dalmore?”

  “About five months after we received notice you had died.”

  “You didn’t mourn long, did you?” Megan’s head snapped up and he saw the hurt and anger that warred in her eyes and immediately regretted his flippant remark. “Meg, I apologize. That was uncalled for.”

  “John saved my life,” she said so softly that he had to ask her to repeat her words.

  “What?”

  “John saved my life,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time. “After we received news of your death, I had the accident. Then I went a little mad. In the span of a few hours, I lost everything that meant anything to me.” He watched her take a sip of coffee. “I gave up on life. I never left my room, hardly left my bed. I didn’t eat. Mama sent for Grandmother and even she was at a loss as to how to help me. One day Da’ had to go to Edinburgh for business, and they cajoled me to accompany him in hopes the fresh air might snap me to my senses. By this time, I was just a shell of my former self. My clothes hung on me as if I were nothing but a skeleton with skin stretched on it.

  “I’ll never know if the meeting was contrived or purely accidental, but we ran into John. He and Da’ were friends at school and had kept up with one another through business. John was raising his orphaned grandson and spoke of how much he wished he had someone to help him. The boy was only a few weeks old at the time, almost the same age ours would have been by then.” Megan stopped and took another drink of coffee. She swiped at a tear that had stubbornly escaped. Finally she continued, “Out of nowhere I found myself saying that I would help him take care of Paddy. He insisted on marriage to keep anyone from speaking ill of me. I agreed, not caring one way or the other. When I took Paddy into my arms, I felt at peace for the first time in months.”

  “Where’s Paddy now? Why isn’t he with you?”

  “Funny that. It seems as if the one thing that saved me was not to remain mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “John had received a letter years before he married me, while his wife was still alive, that he had a son he did not know about. It seems that before he married Bess, he had married a woman his father did not approve of. When his father found out, he had the marriage quickly, and quietly, annulled.”

  “Except for one aspect.”

  “Evidently. After Bess passed away, he hired someone to look into the claim. On our second anniversary, there was a knock at the door and Jonathan, John’s son and true heir stood on the doorstep with his wife in tow. John was ecstatic, as he had just found out he was gravely ill. A few months after they arrived, Beatrice, the daughter-in-law, presented John with his second grandson, and heir to the title.

  “Jonathan had a roving eye and on more than one occasion I found myself laughing off his advances. I guess Beatrice had enough, for one morning I found myself summoned to John’s study. He told me he was sending me to the horse farm and as it was not entailed property, he signed it over to me for all I’d done. Paddy was to be raised by Jonathan and Beatrice along with their children. I was no longer needed. That was over a year ago. A few months after I arrived at the horse farm, John passed away. Jonathan waited just long enough so that we wouldn’t be considered a complete arse before he took back the title of the horse farm. I left Ireland with Legend, Lady Belle, and Hamrick. And that’s been my life since you left.”

  “Megan…”

  “So, there, you have it. The person that saved me ended up destroying me once again. I found solace in the horses, but I have not been the same Megan you knew of old. Before John’s past found him, I had almost found myself again. I made a promise to myself that I will no longer rely on a man for my happiness.” She crossed to the sink and pumped water to rinse her empty coffee cup and the knife they had used to slice the food.

  “If I had known about the bairn—”

  “What Liam?” Megan spun around, the knife still in her hand. “You would have come rushing back to me? You would have resented me. Hamrick told me that you reminded him of his brother who had been a wanderer. I wonder why I didn’t see that in you when we were younger?”

  “I didn’t know it about myself at the time. I had witnessed some suspicious activity and reported it to the authorities. Then I found myself summoned to the War Office and it opened up a new world. I returned home, but kept thinking about all I had been told. Mack, Director McKenzie, asked me to think about joining the cause. Then your brothers left to fight, and I was still at home. Everyone was having adventures…”

  “Except you.”

  “Yes.” He watched Megan whirl around and gently place the knife on the counter after realizing she still held it clutched firmly in her hand. Just when he thought she might collapse, she surprised him by turning around, her chin tilted at that stubborn angle he remembered so well.

  “How did it work for you?” she asked.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “How did it work for you? Your five year adventure,” she clarified. “Was it everything you wanted it to be and more? Was it worth everything you cost us?”

  “No,” he muttered.

  “What was that?” she asked moving closer to him.

  “No,” he barked.

  “And if I might ask, besides a bairn you just recently found out about, what did you lose?”

  “My humanity.”

  “Psh, humanity is easily regained. What did you lose, Liam? What matters to you so much that you think you will die from it? Because until you admit that, you are still that boy seeking adventures.”

  “What did you lose?” he countered.

  “I lost our child. Do you want det
ails?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad.” She moved and stood across from him. “I was going down to the stable to see Sheba. I had stopped riding because of the bairn. Your uncle came riding up the drive and the look on his face when he saw me, I just knew. He never said anything, but that look of pity. I will never forget it. I don’t remember much past that point. Sheba and I were tearing across the country when I heard a snap and went flying. I must have hit my head because when I came to, I heard the most awful squealing sound. It was Sheba, her leg had been badly broken. I took my gun and put her down and started walking. I didn’t make it far before I doubled over in pain. A storm was rolling in and I knew I had to find shelter, so between pains, I continued to walk until I made it to our cave.”

  “Stop. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do. The storm hit almost as soon as I entered the cave. It was one of those ferocious spring storms and somehow so fitting for all that I had gone through and was about to go through. The pains were excruciating, intense, and unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. I felt as if I was being ripped apart inside. I made it to our secret cave, and where he was conceived, our son was born and died. He fit in my hands so easily. Everything about him was so perfect and tiny.”

  “A son?” Liam asked hoarsely.

  “Aye. I don’t know when they found me, it could have been hours or days, I never asked. I took a fever and was delirious. I was able to tell them the bairn should be named Liam James McTavish.”

  He tugged Megan onto his lap and tucked her head beneath his chin. She felt right there, as if she always belonged there, and they had never been separated. “I was selfish and never should have left,” he said, combing his fingers through her silky, dark hair.

  “You should have at least told me what was going on with you,” Megan conceded. “How you felt.”

  “You’re right.” He felt Megan pull away until they could look into each other’s eyes.

  “When are you going to tell me what happened to you? I’ve laid myself bare before you.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Of course you can. You just start talking.”

  “It’s easier for women.”

  “Psh,” Megan made a gesture with her arm and pushed herself off his lap. “Until you decide I’m trustworthy enough to share your problems with, we’ll never have the chance to see if we can be what we once were.”

  “What if I don’t want that? What if I like being a bachelor and having all sorts of women falling at my feet for being a war hero?”

  “And where are these women?”

  “Did you not see the way the female trainees looked at me? The way Hannah hung on every word I said and looked at me like I was her own personal hero. How do you know I didn’t do more than train them on the importance of being a spy?”

  “Go to hell, Liam McTavish,” she pulled back her arm, and though Liam could have ducked and avoided the slap that landed across his cheek, he didn’t because he knew he was being a bastard to her and deserved it. “I laid everything out for you. Everything, damn you. And this is what I get in return? Don’t ever touch me again.” Megan turned and fled.

  Liam dropped heavily onto the bench he had been sitting on.

  “It looks like you could use someone to vent your spleen to,” an unexpected voice said.

  Liam twisted to see Hamrick standing in the doorway that led outside. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I was hoping to find some food before the day got started.”

  “Come have a seat. There isn’t much,” Liam said, pushing the food towards the old man. “Would you care for some coffee?”

  “Aye.”

  “How are the horses?”

  “Fine. What did you say to the lass to make her hit you?”

  “It’s what I didn’t say and what I made her think.”

  The old man cut a slice of bread and cheese, put them together and took a bite. “I seem to recall a time or two when I wasn’t quite honest with my wife. Boy, did she set me straight in a hurry.”

  “You’re married?”

  “Was. For nigh on fifty years before she passed on.”

  “A love match?”

  “Aye. She was the light of my life. There ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her and miss her.”

  “Sounds like she was a special woman.”

  “Aye. The lass reminds me a lot of her. Both spitfires. Master John had me go with the lass to the horse farm. He felt bad for what happened, but he wanted to spend what time he had left with his son.”

  “And it was either his son or Megan, is that it?”

  “‘Bout the way of it. Son’s wife was quite a handful, and young Master Dalmore, well he thought he was a real lady’s man. Not like Paddy’s Da’.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Kind and gentle. Loved horses, too. Enough of the past, though. The only good thing about it is we learn not to repeat our mistakes. I’m an old man, lad, and have seen a lot of things in my life. I don’t carry tales and I’m a good listener,” the man said before taking a sip of coffee.

  Liam found himself talking at long last to this old man that sat across from him, telling him what he could not tell anybody else. “I was a spy. For almost two years, I was a damned good one. At the beginning I had to fake my death and that is what led Megan to Lord Dalmore. Everyone thought I was dead for these past five years. They would have never known I was alive if I hadn’t been tricked into going to Justin’s damn training facility. Mack and Wulfe knew who lived there. They sent me into a damn trap! I never meant to disrupt Megan’s life again.” He could not hide the bitterness in his voice.

  “What happened after those two years?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I will ever know. Something happened that gave me away, and I was captured by the French. For almost a year I was beaten and tortured for information that I refused to reveal. Wellington led and attack on the village I was being held, and while my captor’s were distracted, I managed to escape. I found my way to Wellington who succinctly informed me I was no good to him in the battle against Bonaparte since my identity had been revealed. I was promptly put on a ship and sent to America to do what I could to help in that war. We were doing brilliantly until the end and then… Dear God, Hamrick, in one battle, one,” he emphasized, “I watched hundreds if not thousands of our countrymen die. It was the bloodiest mess I’ve ever witnessed. I paid for space on a privateer’s ship, came home, and now here I am.”

  “I’ve heard stories of the war. Of things that happen to men who are captured.”

  “I can guarantee you that whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably a hundred times worse,” Liam finished his coffee. “The worst thing is I still suffer from it. I can’t sleep because of the nightmares.” He took a deep breath, before going on, “My body isn’t the same as it was.”

  “Everybody carries scars, boy,” Hamrick said.

  “If only it were just the scars,” Liam said with derision.

  “I don’t think I follow you.”

  “Hamrick, those bloody Frenchman have damaged me in the worst possible way. They took my manhood.”

  * * *

  Megan covered her mouth with her hands to keep from crying out at Liam’s admission.

  “You’re a bloody eunuch?” Hamrick asked. Megan could hear the shock in the old man’s voice. She knew she should leave, but she had to stay and hear all of it.

  “No, no, nothing like that. The beatings. It seemed they would start there and finish there. Finally, there came a point when thinking about Megan didn’t bring the reaction it used to. She’s how I kept from telling everything I knew, how I kept myself alive. As long as they thought I knew something they wouldn’t kill me. When they came to question me, I would think of Megan and home and those last days we had together.”

  “You escaped in your mind and your body was punished for it.”

  “Aye.”

>   “And now when you think of the lass, or see her?” the old man prodded.

  “Nothing. Sometimes there’s a flicker of something, but then it’s gone so quickly I don’t know if it really happened or not. Megan deserves a man. She deserves to be a mother.”

  “Have you asked the lass what she wants?”

  “How can I? After all she told me she suffered. I can’t ask her to give up any hopes and dreams she might have for a family to settle for me. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  Having heard enough, Megan silently crept up the stairs to her room and shut the door. She crossed the room and when she passed in front of the mirror the face that she saw shocked her. The color had leached out of her cheeks, and they looked drawn. Her eyes were lifeless. The only tinge of life was the sparkle of the sun off the tears that ran in silver streaks down her face. Unable to look at herself anymore, at the woman that held such bitterness towards Liam, she approached her bed and fell across it. Sobs wracked her tiny frame and she attempted to muffle the sound. The last thing that she wanted was for Liam to know that she had heard anything.

  When her tears were spent, she rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Her hand strayed to her flat stomach, and she felt a profound sadness for what they had lost and might never have again. She paused as her melancholy lifted momentarily. He had said there had been occasions when he had felt something. Could that mean there was hope? And how could they find out if he continually pushed her away? Megan stood, wiped away the remaining traces of tears, and paced the confines of her room. It was a large room and surely the bedroom the owner would use. She crossed to the window and looked out to see Hamrick working with Legend. Where was Liam now? A knock sounded at her door and she almost jumped out of her skin.

  “Yes?” she called through the door.

  “The people applying for the servant positions have arrived. Do you want to interview them?”

  “No. I trust your decision.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Megan, are you all right?” Concern laced his voice.

  “I’ve a bit of a headache. I think I’ll just lie down for a while,” she glibly lied.

  “Let me know if you need anything.”