“The monks told me,” Maude replied.
Liam looked at Kester, who shook his head, and then he frowned at the door. “I ask again, Maude, how did ye ken I was hurt?”
“Robert taunted me with the tale, Liam! He tormented me day and night with talk of how badly he had hurt ye, of how he had seen to it that ye would ne’er beguile a lass with your beauty again. I had to come to ye, to help ye! Can ye nay see that?”
What Liam could see was that Maude was lying. He was almost certain of it. Ignoring her continued pleas to let her inside so that she could make amends for her husband’s crimes against him, Liam turned to look at Keira and nearly gaped. She was busy stuffing all of her things into her saddle packs, which had sat in a far corner of the cottage, untouched, for the entire time he had been there.
“Keira, what are ye doing?” he demanded.
“Leaving,” she replied. “Ye are weel able to care for yourself now, and if ye need anything, ’tis evident ye can find all the aid ye need. I have a vow to fulfill, and ’tis past time I saw to the doing of it.”
“That isnae aid,” he said, pointing toward the door. “That is the reason I was near beaten to death and left to rot.”
“Then, mayhap, ye shouldnae have meddled with another mon’s wife.”
“I didnae meddle with her!”
“Nay? She just imagines that ye are her love? Her sweet prince? ’Tis all in her head, is it?”
It was, but Liam could see that Keira was in no mood to listen. Even Kester, who had lately taken to dogging his heels like a faithful, adoring puppy, looked doubtful. Liam could not really blame them for their disbelief. He was in the middle of this insanity and still had trouble believing it. Nothing he said or did dissuaded Maude from her rabid pursuit of him. It would sound undoubtedly vain if he said so, however.
“Liam! Ye must let me in now! Robert is coming!”
Liam cursed and moved to the front window. He cautiously opened one of the heavy, iron-banded shutters just enough to peer out and cursed again. The burly Laird Kinnaird could be seen rapidly approaching the cottage, six equally large men riding hard at his heels. For a woman who claimed to love him, Maude was doing a very fine job of getting him killed. He slammed the shutter closed as Laird Kinnaird reined in before the cottage.
There was a part of Liam that wanted to breaksomething, wanted to have a long, exhausting temper tantrum. He had spent the last fortnight wooing Keira with a patience he had never used before, winning her trust, and gently pulling confidences from her. It was wrong of him, of course, but he had not been able to stop himself. He had even planned to try and steal a kiss this very night. All his work was for naught now, and he was a little surprised at how furious that made him, furious and heartsore. Glancing at Keira, Liam rather doubted she would even shed a tear for him now if Laird Kinnaird gutted him on the threshold of the cottage they had shared for a month.
“Cameron, ye bastard!” bellowed Laird Kinnaird. “Cease cowering in there, and come out to face me like a mon!”
Keira frowned at the door. Angry and hurt though she was, the arrival of this enraged husband made her afraid for Liam. She told herself it was because Liam was in no condition to fight anyone, that her sense of fairness was offended. It was a lie, but she tried her best to cling to it.
“I mean to make sure ye have naught left to cuckold another mon!”
The way both Kester and Liam paled slightly and glanced at Liam’s groin would have been amusing if the threats being hurled were not so heartfelt. Keira knew she could not simply walk away and leave him to his fate. The woman was, to Keira’s way of thinking, as guilty as Liam, but no one was threatening to maim her. Although Lady Maude’s arrival had revealed a side of Liam she did not like and had shattered the few dreams she had been foolish enough to indulge in, Keira knew she would hate herself forever if she did not do all she could to save him.
“Best ye leave now,” she said.
“If I step out that door, I am a dead mon,” said Liam, “or will soon wish to be.” Liam could not believe Keira truly meant to usher him coldly out of the cottage to face the raging Laird Kinnaird.
Something heavy crashing against the door made Keira wince. The little cottage was built of stone, and the door was of thick, iron-banded oak, but she did not think it could take too much of that sort of punishment She tossed aside the sheepskin rug upon the floor, revealing a hatch door set into the floor. Beneath it was a tunnel that would lead them to the stables. She looked up at Liam, idly wondering how she could have been so stupid as to ignore the possibility that such a handsome man could be a licentious swine.
“Hurry and collect your things, my sweet prince,” she said.
Liam gritted his teeth against the urge to demand Keira never call him that again and hurriedly gathered up his belongings. “Where does that lead to?”
“The stables. This cottage was built to withstand a great deal, but the ones who built it kenned that it wasnae impregnable. So, a way to flee whilst the attackers weary themselves trying to break in.”
“If we ride out of the stables we are sure to be seen. That could put ye in danger as weel.”
“Then ’tis a verra good thing there is a back way out of the stables, aye?” Although Liam had become quite good with his crutch, Keira suddenly realized he would have great difficulty getting down the small wooden ladder into the tunnel. “Kester, take Sir Liam’s things for him. Ye and I will go down first so that we may be ready to help him if he stumbles upon the ladder.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to proclaim loudly that he did not require the help of a small woman and a too thin boy just to climb down a ladder, but Liam bit back the caustic words. One look at the ladder told him it was not going to be possible to climb down nimbly with his stiff right leg. He tossed his crutch down to Kester and carefully began to climb down, gritting his teeth against the pain every time he had to put weight on his bad leg. Once at the bottom, he leaned against the ladder and willed away the pain. He had no time for it now. The sound of Laird Kinnaird working hard to batter down the door was almost deafening.
“We had better shut the hatch door,” Keira said when Liam finally moved away from the ladder. “It can be weel secured from this side. That will slow down any pursuit.”
“I will close it after ye leave,” said Kester. “And cover it o’er again.”
“Nay, Kester, ’tis too dangerous. That mon out there sounds nearly blind with rage. Ye must come with us. Ye can flee to the monastery from the stables.”
“E’en blind with rage, no one will mistake me for Sir Liam, if only because my hair is brown, nay red. Ye go, m’lady, and I will hold their attention here. ’Twill give ye a better chance of fleeing unseen.”
“Lad, at some point e’en that fool will ken that ’tis too quiet in the cottage,” said Liam.
“Oh, that fool will think that ye are still within, Sir Liam,” said Kester, and then he grinned.
Keira knew Liam was probably staring at Kester with as much amazement as she was, but she could not tear her gaze from the boy in order to confirm that. Kester had sounded just like Liam. The fact that Kester’s voice usually ranged from high to low several times in a sentence when he spoke made it all the more astonishing.
“How did ye do that?” she finally asked.
Kester shrugged. “I just do it. I can mimic most of the monks. ’Tis just a wee game I play.”
“Keep playing it, lad,” said Liam. “’Tis a true skill ye may find some use for one day. I am just nay sure that ye will be too safe playing that game now. Laird Kinnaird isnae too sane at the moment.”
Kester frowned. “I willnae stand near the door. ’Twill give the mon a wee bit of time to look about and see that I am nay you.”
“Ye do that,” said Keira, “and as soon as that door looks to crack open, ye start yelling in your own voice. That will certainly make him look about, for ’twill make him think that there are several people inside.”
“A
ye, m’lady, I will do that,” agreed Kester.
Keira watched as the boy scrambled up the ladder. When the hatch door was shut, she hastily beat back a sudden wave of fear. She truly hated small, dark places. She especially hated small, dark places under the ground. They reminded her a little too much of the grave. The light from the lantern did not penetrate the dark all that well. She shook her head when she heard Kester yell something extremely obscene at Lord Kinnaird in Liam’s voice.
“I am certain he didnae learn that in a monastery,” she muttered.
“I wouldnae be too certain of that. None of the monks were born there, after all,” said Liam.
“Weel, if Kester isnae careful, when Sir Kinnaird finally stumbles inside, he will be fair to frothing at the mouth after having had to endure so many insults.”
“The lad will be fine. He may nay be able to walk two yards without tripping o’er his own feet, but he is quick-witted. Now, lead on. It may yet occur to that bellowing laird that someone should stand guard in the stable.”
Keira started down the tunnel, alarm at that possibility spurring her onward. She closed her mind to the tight quarters of the tunnel, to the pervasive smell of damp earth and thought only of the opening at the other end. There lay freedom. She just wished it meant freedom from Liam. Keira knew he would be at her side for a while yet, and she suspected he would reside in her heart and mind for many years to come.
Once at the end of the tunnel, Keira handed Liam the lantern. She climbed the ladder to the hatchway and carefully lifted the door just enough to peer around the stables. To her relief, there was no sign of any of Laird Kinnaird’s men, and even better, it appeared that Kester had almost completely shut the stable door after attending to the animals that morning. There was little chance that anyone besieging the cottage would be able to see her and Liam in the stables. She hurried to climb out of the tunnel, then after setting down all she carried, knelt by the tunnel opening to take Liam’s belongings as he handed them up to her.
Liam inwardly cursed as he had to be helped up the final step of the ladder by Keira. Although he was deeply grateful for all of her help and knew he owed her his life, he was weary of being an invalid. He knew a great deal of his irritation at the moment was because it was his problem that had sent them fleeing the comfort of the cottage, yet he had to depend upon a boy and a tiny lady to extract him from it. Once inside the stable, he quickly gathered up his things and hurried to ready his horse as Keira covered their route of escape. This much, at least, he could do for himself, he thought crossly.
As Keira moved to saddle her dark gray mare in the stall next to Liam’s horse, Gilmour, she said quietly, “There is a way out at the rear of the stables. Once outside, there are, oh, five yards or so of open space before ye enter the wood. A few more yards after that, and the wood grows thick enough to hide us.”
“Mayhap we should lead our horses o’er that more open ground,” said Liam.
Keira glanced at his right leg, still swathed in linen bandages and wooden slats. He wore breeches with the right leg sliced open to just above the knee. Over the bandages and wood he wore an odd sort of deerskin boot one of the monks had sewn for him. The foot of the boot had been made a little too big to allow for swelling, and the shaft of the boot was simply two flaps of leather brought up front and back and tied onto his damaged leg with lengths of rawhide. It all worked to make it nearly impossible for Liam to bend his leg at the knee.
“If we were to be seen doing that, we would have to mount quickly, and I think ye will find that ye cannae do that,” she said.
Liam looked down at his strapped up leg, thought about how he needed to move to mount his horse, and silently repeated every curse he could think of. He had gotten so good at managing his everyday needs that he had deluded himself into thinking he was self-sufficient. Now he knew he could not adequately defend himself, or others, from an enraged husband or even mount his horse without assistance. He might be able to forgive Maude for the beating he had suffered, but he doubted he would ever forgive her for this constant battering of his pride, this seemingly unending helplessness.
“Aye, ye are right,” he replied, unable to keep all of his anger out of his voice. “S’truth, I think ye will have to help me mount.” He led his horse out of the stall and waited for her to give him a hand.
Keira led her mare out of her stall, then moved to give Liam help in mounting. She beat down the sympathy she felt for him by reminding herself of the reason why he was so injured. The punishment had been too harsh, but a man had to expect some retribution from a husband he had wronged. Keira knew a lot of her anger was born of hurt, of feeling like a complete fool. One glimpse of Lady Maude’s stunningly beautiful face had been more than enough to harshly remind her of her own lack. For a brief time, she had actually begun to believe his pretty words and sweet smiles were for her alone, that they had truly meant something. The truth was bitter. A man who could win a woman like Lady Maude could never really be stirred by a woman like her.
Once Liam was settled in the saddle, Keira said, “I must needs shut the door after we leave, so just ride into the wood. Dinnae wait for me until ye are deep into the shelter of the trees.”
Liam hesitated only a moment before nodding. He had feared that Keira might try to leave him now, setting her own trail, but her words implied that she would ride with him for now. After having to be helped into the saddle, he was hard-pressed to believe he could still be her ally, her champion, but he knew that sense of defeat would pass. If nothing else, he could help her gather the men she would need to retake Ardgleann.
Ducking to pass through the door she had opened, Liam made his way toward the wood, waiting tensely for any outcry every step of the way. Once sheltered within the trees, he watched Keira carefully make her way toward him and breathed a sigh of relief when she reached his side unseen by Kinnaird and his men. Whatever Kester was doing, it was working to keep all attention fixed upon the cottage.
“We shall ride to my cousin’s keep Scarglas,” he told her.
“I intended to return to my kinsmen,” Keira said.
“Nay alone, and until this leg of mine heals, I am hindered in my ability to protect ye. Scarglas is but three days ride from here. Mayhap more if we run into any trouble. There will be men to escort ye home there, and supplies for the journey.”
It made sense, too much sense to argue with, so Keira nodded. “Lead on.”
Liam began to do just that, hiding his face in case his expression revealed the relief he felt over her acceptance of his plan. Taking her to Scarglas was a good plan, but it would also give him time alone with her. He would probably need every moment of that time to ease her anger and regain the ground he had lost owing to Maude’s arrival at the cottage. By the time they reached Scarglas, he wanted her to have told him of the challenge she faced and to have accepted his part in the battle ahead. He also hoped to renew his wooing, to regain her trust. One glance at her face told him that might prove to be the hardest battle of all.
CHAPTER 5
Keira glanced over at Liam and silently cursed. The man looked so pale she was surprised he was still in the saddle. Her anger and disappointment had obviously smothered the healer in her for a while for she had not taken a moment since fleeing the cottage to consider what a long, hard ride might cost him. Even she was feeling a bit sore, and she was not suffering from any injuries. Since he had taken the lead in their flight from the enraged Lord Kinnaird, she wondered why he had said nothing about the pain he was so clearly suffering. Manly pride, she supposed, and shook her head over such foolishness.
“I think ’tis time we stopped for the night,” she said.
“’Tis still light enough to ride,” Liam said, although he ached to get off his horse and rest his leg.
“Aye, but ye look ready to fall out of that saddle.”
Liam hated the fact that she could see how he suffered with each movement Gilmour made. “Nay, I—”
“Sir Lia
m, I am nay strong enough to catch ye if ye start to fall or move ye from wherever ye land, and a fall could cause serious damage to your leg. Ye are but a fortnight from having all of that binding off. Do ye truly wish to start at the beginning again?”
He gave her an ill-tempered grunt in reply. “About an hour from here, there is a wee village. We can rest there.”
She knew it was all the concession he would make, so Keira said nothing more. Men could become stubborn when their pride was at stake. There was a chance that if she pushed the man too hard, he would try to ride even further than the next village, and she had no wish to spend the coming night keeping a vigil over his unconscious body or resetting his leg. Instead, she decided just to keep a very close watch on him until they reached their destination. She just hoped the man had the good sense to give up before he swooned.
By the time they rode into the little village, Liam could barely see straight. He reined in before a small alehouse that let rooms to travelers and fought the urge to let himself just fall to the ground. Taking slow deep breaths, he pushed aside his pain and struggled to steady himself before Keira came to help him dismount. He hoped she was quick for he desperately wanted to get into one of old Denny’s surprisingly clean and comfortable beds.
Keira studied Liam closely as she helped him dismount. For the last few moments of their ride, he had looked so poorly she had been tensed and ready to hear his body hit the ground. He was still pale, but once off the horse, he no longer looked in danger of fainting. She did, however, keep close to his side as they entered the alehouse. A moment later, she heartily wished herself miles away as a fulsome, dark-haired woman cried out his name and nearly knocked him off his crutch with the force of her embrace. Liam had obviously passed this way before, she thought crossly.
He was cursed, Liam decided, as he gently, but firmly, extracted himself from the buxom Mary’s rather tenacious embrace. Although he was willing to concede that he may have been greedy in his enjoyment of women, he did not think he deserved this amount of punishment for his sins. There was no need to look at Keira to know how she was taking this smiling proof of his somewhat intemperate past. He could almost feel the chill of her anger. This was going to make it even harder to convince her that Lady Maude was simply deluded.
Highland Champion Page 5