“’Tis good to see ye again, Mary,” he said politely, his hands on her arms to hold her at a distance.
“Och, aye, ’tis good to see ye again as weel,” Mary said. “’Twill soon be e’en better, when we—”
“Allow me to introduce my wife,” he interrupted hastily, not wanting Mary to get too precise in her reminiscing. Keira undoubtedly knew he had bedded this woman, but she did not need to know the how, the when, or the where.
Keira opened her mouth to heartily deny Liam’s claim, but a quick, sharp look from him made her choke back the words. Her common sense told her there were some very good reasons for such a pretense. She would rather share a room with a man she was beginning to think was a rampant lecher, than sleep alone and unguarded. Some of the men gathered in the alehouse did not look as if they would be troubled much by a locked door or an unwilling woman. For all of his faults, Liam would never try to force her. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable night, however, she thought as she forced herself to briefly smile a greeting to a gaping Mary. When her mind added a lot of nasty qualifications after the woman’s name, Keira hastily silenced it. It was not Mary’s fault that Liam seemed unable to keep his breeches laced tightly against temptation. She just wished she could stop her mind from filling her head with painful images of Liam and Mary together, in a bed, naked.
“Married?” Mary screeched finally, then quickly took a step back and curtsied somewhat clumsily to Keira. “So that is where ye have been, Liam. Och, aye, and ye have been injured. Your cousins came here looking for ye, ye ken.”
“When?” asked Liam.
“Oh, twice now. They last stopped here three, mayhap four, days ago.” Mary grinned. “A fine-looking crop of braw laddies. We did have fun.”
So, perhaps her mind was not wrong in naming Mary a whore, Keira thought. A pretty, cheerful one at that, and one who made no secret of her wanton ways. It did not matter. She knew men often sought out such women, some even after they were married. Her own kinsmen did so while they were free of all vows and bonds. It did not make it any less painful to know that Liam had done so or to have to look one of those women in the eye.
It does not matter, she sternly told herself. For a little while she had fooled herself, allowed herself to think she could be of interest to a man like Sir Liam. It was good that she had been awakened from that dream before she had done something there would have been no retreating from.
After gleaning what information he could about his cousins, Liam requested a room, a bath, and a meal. As a still chattering Mary led him and Keira to the small bedchamber they would share, Liam kept glancing back at Keira to make sure she was still with him. Her continued silence was making him uneasy.
There would be no wooing Keira this night, he thought as Mary ushered them into a bedchamber, still talking. Liam idly wondered if Keira would even speak to him, and for a brief moment, thought that silence might be welcome. He had never noticed how much Mary talked, but then, he had been too busy scratching an itch to care, he ruefully admitted. It pained him to admit it, even if only to himself, but his cousin Sigimor may have been right when he had said there might come a day when he paid for all that scratching. Liam just did not think he deserved to pay so dearly.
Keira remained silent as a bath was prepared for her. She would truly like to speak pleasantly and to act as if she cared not at all that Liam was a lecherous swine, but she feared what might burst out if she opened her mouth. When he left her to her bath asking only that she not take too long for he would also enjoy a wash with warm water, Keira sighed and began to undress. As she sank her weary body into the warm water, she sighed with pleasure and could almost feel sorry for Liam because he would not be able to enjoy this delight. It would be another fortnight before he could sink himself into a bath, and even then, he might need help getting in and out until his leg grew strong again.
Her mind suddenly filled with images of a naked Liam, and she was the one helping him bathe. She could almost feel the muscles and taut skin beneath her hands as she soaped his fine, broad chest. Keira shook her head and cursed herself for an idiot. Liam did have a fine, manly chest, but it was obviously one that had been touched by far more female hands than she cared to think about.
A strong urge to weep swept over her, and she scrubbed herself vigorously until it passed. The man was not worth her tears, although a few of her dreams had been so sweet she supposed they were worth grieving over. Worse, she had the sinking feeling it would be a long time before she could banish the man from her dreams. Keira doubted those dreams would be pleasant ones now either, for her mind seemed to have tenaciously grasped the thought of what Liam had done with all those other women and kept tormenting her with far too many clear images. Now she would probably find that her dreams of him were more like nightmares.
Somehow, she would find the strength to tear the man out of her heart and mind, she promised herself. It had been foolish to allow him to wriggle his way in, but she was through being a fool. From this moment on, Liam Cameron would simply be that man with a broken leg, someone she was helping in her capacity as a healer.
Keira hoped she could act with all the confidence she was bringing forth in these lectures to herself. Liam was hard to resist, even when she was angry with him. Even when fulsome brunettes flung themselves into his arms, she was more hurt and disillusioned than angry. Her gallant knight had feet of clay, and she could almost hate him for that.
Once done with her bath, Keira wondered what to wear as she dried herself. Since Liam had seen her in her night shift and robe many times, she decided to wear them. As soon as he was done washing himself, she would rinse her clothes out in the bathwater to rid them of the dust and the scent of horses gained from their ride.
She was just braiding her damp hair when Liam returned. He brought in a tray heavily ladened with bread, cold mutton, cheeses, oatcakes, and apples. It was plain fare, but Keira’s stomach still growled with anticipation.
“Dinnae wait on me, lass,” Liam said as he set the tray down on a table, inwardly sighing when her only reply was a cool, stiff nodding of her head.
Keira was just about to sit on the stool by the rough-hewn little table when Liam stripped to the waist. She had to clench her teeth to hold back an involuntary murmur of pleasure. The man was dangerous, she thought crossly as she hastily moved her stool so that her back was toward him.
Liam glanced at Keira as he washed and almost smiled. Her back was so stiff and straight he was surprised it did not hurt her to sit like that. That she was so angry with him was not amusing in the least, but the way she showed her anger was, if only just a little.
What troubled him more was that he had the strongest feeling he had disappointed her in some way. He doubted she was unaware of how men behaved, especially young men with no wife or betrothed, so exactly how he had disappointed her was somewhat of a puzzle. That she believed he had cuckolded Lord Kinnaird could be some of it, but he doubted all of her kinsmen were innocent of that sin. She had apparently formed some strange idea of him as some perfect, genteel knight, chivalrous and pure. Well, the last few hours had certainly shattered that image.
That, at least, was a good thing, he told himself firmly. If she had envisioned him thus, it was a role he could never play for long. He was better natured than many of his kinsmen, was more able to think before he acted, but he had as many faults as any other man. After living with him for a month, he was surprised she did not know that, but then, he had been on his best behavior.
He could explain Maude, and felt confident that he could get Keira to at least try to believe him. It irritated him that his word was not good enough, but that could be dealt with. If Keira had not met Mary, who had made it painfully clear that he and she had once been intimate, he might have already begun to win Keira to his side. Unfortunately, in Keira’s eyes, that latest meeting had only added veracity to Lady Maude’s claims.
Frowning a little as he sat by the tub and struggled to wash his h
air, he wondered if it might be best to just let her stay angry. Everything within him immediately rebelled at that thought. He knew she deserved someone higher born, someone with a fuller purse and someplace fine to call home, but he was now determined to try to win her for his own. Although he was not sure what he felt besides lust, when he looked at her, he saw his mate, his partner, and the mother of his children. If in gaining that, he had to reach high and angered a few people, so be it.
After squeezing the water from his hair, he gave it a brisk rub with the drying cloth and then struggled to his feet. The way Keira started to turn, obviously moving to help him, and then visibly stiffened as she turned back to her meal, caused a flicker of hope to stir within him. She was not completely cold to him. Anger and disappointment he could deal with, bothersome as they were, but if she had utterly rejected him, he feared he would have been at a complete loss as to what to do.
He sat down across from her at the table and helped himself to some food and ale. Watching her closely as he ate, he felt that small spark of hope grow hotter. In the tense way she sat and in the way she would start to raise her head to look at him only to return slowly to staring at her food were proof that she was finding it hard to ignore him. If she were now completely cold to him, looking at him would not be a thing she would need to avoid so strenuously. Regaining her trust would be difficult, but he felt he could do it with hard work and patience.
A small part of him was angry that she would not simply accept his word, but he would do his best to smother that resentment. There was good reason for her to question the wisdom of trusting blindly in his word. In the past few hours, she had heard one woman claim him as her lover, making each harsh response he had made to Maude and his vigorous attempts to avoid the woman look like the actions of a callous man who used women mercilessly for his own pleasure. And then, she had been confronted with Mary, a woman he had bedded. If the situation was turned around, he suspected he would be angry as well. Violently angry, he thought with a little surprise, hastily banishing the images of Keira with another man. He just had to convince her that even though his past might be nothing to be proud of, if he pledged himself to her, he would hold to that vow.
Liam’s eyes widened slightly when Keira made a noise that sounded very much like a soft growl and then abruptly stood up. She moved toward the bath, gathered up the clothes she had worn, and started to wash them in the bathwater. He slowly smiled and began to eat with real enjoyment, his lagging appetite fully restored. Keira Murray MacKail was most definitely not cold toward him. Let the battle begin, he thought, and nearly laughed.
Keira was disgusted with herself. She had been living with the man for a month. One would think she could easily conquer her need to look at him. When he had been too weak and injured to tend to himself, she had seen every part of him. True, he had not been quite so beautiful, but once the swelling had eased and the bruises had begun to fade, he had grown more handsome each day. She was sure he had reached the limit by now. Since she had been looking at him in this pleasurable guise for several days, it was past time to cease finding it such a delight.
As she wrung the water from her shift with a vigor she feared might ruin it, Keira admitted to herself that she had abruptly left the table because she was within a heartbeat of demanding that he put his shirt back on. That would have told him far too much about how she felt. Anger was something she could explain away. What woman would not be angry to discover that the man she had worked so hard to heal was little better than a hound constantly sniffing the air for a bitch coming into season? She also suspected that most women would be as hurt and angry as she felt for one of the reasons she was rather ashamed to admit to—this hound had not sniffed her out.
It hurt more than she cared to admit, far more than Duncan’s sorrowful lack of desire for her. What that told her about the state of her feelings for the man was something she was too terrified to look at closely. He had been cloistered in a remote cottage with her for a whole month, and he had not even kissed her. Was it any wonder she felt such a strong need to weep she could barely swallow her food?
Something white flashed before her eyes and splashed into the bathwater. Keira stared down at Liam’s shirt. Slowly, she picked it up. He obviously expected her to wash it. For a moment, she savored the image of pinning him to his seat and making him eat it. She glanced at him, seeing that he had already returned to the table and was calmly eating the last of the food. He smiled sweetly at her, and she glared at him before turning back to her washing.
Liam smothered a laugh. That glare had been so sharp he was surprised he was not bleeding. He had always thought his cousin Sigimor’s tendency to stir people into a rage an odd way to sort out problems and conflicts, but he began to see some merit in it. Keira was definitely smoldering at the moment. If he kept poking at that fire, it would soon flare up, and then all those words she was choking back would come out He suspected he would not like some of what she said, but at least he would no longer have to guess at what she was thinking.
He made a few idle attempts at conversation, but was glad when Mary and her two brothers appeared to remove the tray and the bath. Talking to Keira was no better than talking to himself or the wall, for what few responses she made were indistinct murmurs and something that came perilously close to a grunt. Then Mary began to speak of something from the past, a particularly lusty time when he and a few of his cousins from Dubheidland had stopped for a night Liam quickly ushered the still chattering woman out of the room, but could see from the narrowing of Keira’s eyes that it had probably been too little, too late. Inwardly cursing to himself, he sat on the edge of the bed and began to remove his boots.
“What are ye doing?” asked Keira.
Glaring at Liam, she tried to banish Mary’s words from her mind. It was not easy, and Keira doubted it would get much easier for a long while. Mary had not said anything very precise, but she had said just enough before Liam had pushed her out of the room to give Keira a vague idea of what had gone on in the past. Now her far too keen imagination was running wild. She was going to have to strangle it, or she would never sleep again.
“Going to bed,” Liam replied even as he settled down on the bed, idly arranging the pillow until it was in just the right shape.
“We cannae share a bed.”
“I have kept my breeches on. And we have lived together for a month.”
“We have ne’er slept in the same bed. Sharing the cottage was necessary, especially until ye began to heal enough to do some things for yourself. Sharing this bed isnae necessary. Ye can sleep on the floor.”
“I have a broken leg, if ye recall. It isnae pleased that I have bounced it about on the back of a horse for hours. I am sleeping in this bed. If ye arenae able to trust me to restrain my lechery for a night, then ye can sleep on the floor.” The way her eyes widened slightly told him that a little too much of his anger and frustration may have been revealed in his voice. “I will use the top blanket. Ye can wrap your wee self up in all the rest.” He pulled the cover over himself and closed his eyes.
Keira hesitated only a few moments before shedding her robe and climbing into bed. Her knight could be ill-tempered and very ungallant, she mused. This was probably the best proof of how much his leg must ache. There was also the fact that he had never touched her in any overtly seductive way in all the time they had been together. Keira doubted any man could hold to any guise for so long without some brief glimpse of his true self slipping by his guard. Therefore, it was painfully evident that she did not rouse his lechery, even though it was becoming increasingly evident that Liam Cameron was very free with his favors. Tightly closing her eyes, she fought back the pain caused by that hard, cold truth and settled herself more comfortably upon what was a surprisingly comfortable, clean bed. She was almost grateful for the exhaustion that seemed to have settled into her very bones for it meant even her troubled thoughts and foolish, aching heart would not be able to rob her of much sleep.
> “So, all your kinsmen were virgins ere they wed, were they?” Liam asked quietly as soon as he felt her relax beside him.
Now that was definitely a growl, he thought and grinned, not surprised when that furious noise was her only reply. Although he was willing to admit that he could have used a little more restraint in the past, he was not about to meekly accept being treated like a leper simply because he had not held himself inviolate until marriage. He had taken only what was offered, had made no woman any empty promises just to draw her into his bed, had never stolen a woman’s virginity, and had never touched a woman who was betrothed or married to another. That last rule was going to be the one he would make Keira understand and believe in. In the confrontation he was pushing for, he would finally have a chance to explain all of that, and he knew a confrontation was coming.
Keira was definitely smoldering, and he found some hope for himself in her anger. It seemed impossible to him that a woman could be so angry over his past amours if she had no feeling for him beyond kindness or friendship. He would feed that anger, pile fuel upon that fire every chance he got until she popped like a roasting chestnut and all those words she was holding in flowed out. As he felt his exhaustion pull him into the comforting realm of sleep, he also decided that when she did pop, he would make sure no sharp weapons were close at hand.
CHAPTER 6
Smooth, warm skin heated the palms of her hands, and Keira murmured with pleasure. Liam did have a lovely chest. She had seen men’s chests before. In her capacity as a healer, she had even touched a few. Yet she could not think of a one that was as fine as Liam Cameron’s. It was the first time she had ever felt it so clearly in her dreams, however. Despite the nagging voice in her head that said it was time to wake up, she decided she would linger in this dream for a little while longer.
Highland Champion Page 6