Liam cursed as Sigimor scrubbed his back with far more vigor than was necessary. “If ye wish to punish me for nay telling ye where I was, please just hit me. ’Twould be easier to bear than having all the skin torn from my back.” Then he sighed as he stared down at the bathwater he stood in while Sigimor washed him off. “And I would think the humiliation I am suffering right now should be punishment enough.”
“I beg your forgiveness for nay being the best of handmaidens, my sweet prince,” drawled Sigimor.
“Say that again, and I will beat ye with my crutch.”
Sigimor ignored the threat. “Dinnae ken what ye find so humiliating either.”
“I havenae had to be bathed by anyone since I was an infant.”
Pausing as he started to wash Liam’s hair, Sigimor frowned at him. “Except for the lasses, aye?”
“Nay, not e’en the lasses. Weel, Keira did wash me down whilst I was bedridden, but ’tisnae the same.”
“Ye, the great and profligate lover, have ne’er bathed with a lass?”
“Nay,” replied Liam between clenched teeth, then briefly closed his eyes when Sigimor just stared at him, silently awaiting an explanation. “Bathing is a verra private thing, aye? ’Tis an intimate act, and ye are verra vulnerable whilst doing it.”
“The same could be said for rutting with a lass.”
“I didnae promise to make sense. ’Tis just something I dinnae do. I dinnae stay the night with a woman either. Nothing I say will make sense to ye. Jesu, it doesnae always make sense to me. ’Tis just some boundaries I set out for myself, and I ne’er cross them. Aye, I like the lasses, and I like the rutting. I am kind to the lasses; I dinnae scorn them for being free with their favors; and I make them smile, make them feel bonnie. Howbeit, I dinnae sleep the night with them or bathe with them.” Liam shrugged. “I was only after a wee bit of pleasure, nay more, and I didnae want any of them thinking elsewise. I liked some more than others, but I didnae want them thinking there was more to be found with me than just a wee bit of fun.”
“Do ye ken, in a strange way, it all makes sense.” Sigimor began to wash Liam’s hair. “Ye are vulnerable whilst bathing and sleeping. That implies a great deal of trust and all, doesnae it? Now that I think on it, ye dinnae bed any of the lasses who work or live in the keep either, do ye?”
“Not in any of the ones I plan to visit often, nay.”
Sigimor rinsed Liam’s hair and then helped him out of the bath. Liam’s embarrassment over being rubbed dry by his cousin was fleeting, for Sigimor was brisk and impersonal. Once dressed in his braies, Liam sat on the bed as Sigimor replaced the now wet and still dirty slats and bandages on his leg with clean, dry ones.
“The leg looks good,” Sigimor said as he poured them each a tankard of ale. “A wee bit pale, and it looks as if ye have lost a wee bit of muscle in it, but that can be regained. Ye were lucky.”
“Aye, I was. If Keira and Brother Matthew hadnae found me, I would have died. Slowly.” When Sigimor nodded, then sipped his ale and kept staring at him, Liam asked, “What is it?”
“Ah, I was just pondering on ye and the lasses again. Do ye ken? I think ye have always planned on taking a wife.”
“Doesnae every mon plan to do so at some time in his life?”
“Most do, but most of them dinnae draw such a clear line in the sand when they start their frolicking. Ye did. Ye may ne’er have realized the full reason why ye did, or ye may have forgotten it, but I think ye did it because ye planned to marry one day. There will be no confrontations with maids ye have slept with in your own home, and there will be things ye can share with your wife that ye have ne’er done with any other woman. I suspicion there are a few other things ye havenae done with those women as weel.” Sigimor smiled faintly when Liam actually flushed, and then he nodded. “’Tis for the best, as I think ye have already chosen your bride.”
“Mayhap I have, though ’tis a verra high reach I make. I get all the gain. She only gets me.”
“If she fits, what does that matter? I married an Englishwoman, the daughter of a Marcher laird.”
“Because she fit.”
“Aye. Perfectly.”
“Keira thinks I am a lecherous swine.” Liam smiled faintly when Sigimor laughed. I need to woo her, to gain her trust, which I lost when that fool woman chased me down. And I fear, when we stopped at Denny’s tavern and Mary made me verra welcome.”
“Weel, once ye are wed, ye can let Keira ken how many things ye are sharing with her, things ye ne’er shared with another. ’Twill ease the pinch of jealousy o’er your past. Now, let me help ye dress so that we might go down to the great hall and sup ere those MacFingals eat everything.”
Liam got the feeling Sigimor had a plan. The man spoke as if a marriage between him and Keira was already settled. Before Liam could question his cousin, however, Sigimor began to help him dress, talking all the while on the battle they would soon fight. It was not until Liam was seated at the head table in the great hall waiting for Keira that he realized he had just been cleverly and thoroughly diverted.
He looked at Sigimor who just smiled faintly, making Liam immediately and intensely suspicious. Just as he was about to question his cousin, Liam was diverted again by Keira’s entrance into the great hall. She wore a beautiful green gown that enhanced the color of her eyes. Her raven black hair hung down her back in long waves, only loosely tied back with a thick green ribbon. She looked every inch the fine lady, and Liam felt his determination to claim her falter a bit. Seeing her thus made him painfully aware of how little he had to offer her.
Keira blushed faintly beneath the warm look Liam gave her as he helped her take her seat at the table. She had finally calmed herself, tucking her newly discovered feelings for the man deep inside her. Until they actually parted, she would do her utmost to keep those feelings securely caged. It would certainly help if they only met at times like this, she thought as she ate her food without really tasting it. Surrounded by people and indulging in constant conversation should make it easier to keep her unruly heart tightly bound, her emotions curtailed.
“So, ye nursed our sweet prince back from the brink of death at the monastery, did ye?” asked Sigimor.
It was hard not to smile when Liam sighed heavily and his kinsmen snickered, but Keira remained solemn as she replied, “On the grounds, aye. The monks sent us to a wee cottage they have on the border of their lands.”
“And the two of ye stayed there alone together? For a month?”
The way everyone looked at her and Liam so intently began to pierce the fog of calm Keira had wrapped herself in. “Liam was in verra bad shape for the first fortnight, but by then, all of his injuries save for his broken leg had healed weel.”
“Sigimor,” Liam growled.
“What? I but search for the truth, as will her kinsmen,” Sigimor said.
“The truth is that she cared for my injuries.”
“Aye, alone, in a wee cottage, for a month. Just ye and she. And, save for your poor, wee broken leg, ye were your old self within a fortnight. Weel, we all ken what your old self was like, aye? I suspicion her kinsmen have heard a rumor or two, for they often send some of their people to the king’s court. Word of this will spread. Ye ken it as weel as I do. Ye ken what must be done to repair her good name, yours as weel, and to placate her kin.”
“I dinnae believe the monks will run about telling tales.”
“Nay on purpose, but her kin might finally recall Brother Matthew, aye? Then there were others who found ye, and they arenae cloistered monks. Ye ken as weel as I what will be said of her if ’tis learned that she spent so long with ye alone. ’Tis neither fair nor true, but that willnae matter. I dinnae think her verra large family will be pleased, and they will want matters set aright. As I see it, we have two choices—we prepare ourselves for a feud with the Murrays, or we prepare ye and the lass for a wedding.”
Keira had listened to Sigimor in growing horror as the meaning of his words finall
y penetrated her hard-won calm. Everything he said was true, which made it all so much worse. She could see by the looks upon everyone’s faces that they agreed with Sigimor, and she could not blame them for that. There were many reasons why a forced marriage to Liam was a bad idea, but one in particular immediately leapt to the fore of her mind—the wedding night. The realization of all the problems that could bring her finally freed her tongue.
“Nay!”
CHAPTER 9
“Aye!”
Keira looked toward the doorway of the great hall and nearly cursed out loud. Two of her brothers stood there. It was obvious from the looks on their faces that they had heard the entire conversation. She fought the urge to leap up and run very swiftly to some place where they could not find her. As they strode toward the table looking eager to pummel someone, Keira wondered in which direction Ireland lay.
Her brothers did not falter once in their march toward the head table, and Keira realized that their gazes were fixed firmly upon Liam, not her. They were not friendly looks either. In fact, they were murderous glares. She quickly stood up and put herself between Liam and her brothers. Artan and Lucas were known to hit first and discuss the justification later. At the moment, they clearly felt they had plenty of justification to beat Liam until he was no more than a smear upon Fiona’s clean floor. Since she doubted Liam’s kinsmen would sit idly by while her brothers pummeled one of their own, she decided she was protecting more than Liam.
“Move aside, Blackbird,” said Artan, his blue-gray eyes looking almost silver, a sure indication that he was in a fury.
“Nay,” she said. ’Ye are guests in this keep, and this mon is kin to these people. It would be rude to beat him here.”
“Rude?” muttered Lucas, his eyes matching Artan’s to a shade. “Weel, let it ne’er be said we lacked good manners. We will take the mon outside and beat him.”
“Ye cannae do that either. It wouldnae be a fair fight. He has a broken leg.”
Liam smiled when both men peered around Keira, and he shifted in his seat just enough to let them see his bandaged and splinted leg. For one brief moment, he had been annoyed by Keira’s attempt to shield him, and then good sense had prevailed. He did not wish to fight with two men he suspected were very close kin to Keira, even if he had not been hampered by his broken leg. Any fight started would also quickly turn into a melee. Since he had done no more than steal a few kisses, he did not think he deserved a beating anyway.
He studied the two men as Sigimor calmly began the introductions, revealing that they were Keira’s brothers, Artan and Lucas Murray. They were of a size with him and were probably near his age. They were also extraordinarily handsome, and the way the few women in the hall gazed raptly at them only confirmed Liam’s opinion. Their hair was the same rich black as Keira’s, a little long and very thick. As the tension in their lean bodies eased a little, the silvery glint in their eyes faded into a softer bluish gray. When they suddenly fixed stern looks upon Keira, however, Liam tensed. He hoped they would not be too harsh or unkind, or all Sigimor and Ewan had done to ease the anger and tension in the air would be for naught.
“Ye look hale, lass,” murmured Artan. “Doesnae she, Lucas?”
“Aye, verra hale,” Lucas said after carefully looking Keira over, “for someone we were told was probably dead.”
Artan grasped both of Keira’s hands and looked them over, too. “And she doesnae have any injury to these wee hands either.”
“Nary a bruise that I can see.”
“Strange then, that she didnae write to her family to tell them she was weel. A wee word or two such as, I am nay dead and rotting somewhere ’twixt Ardgleann and Donncoill,” said Artan.
Keira winced and flushed with guilt beneath their glares. “I hadnae realized ye thought I was dead.”
“Of course ye didnae, for ye ne’er sent word to find out what we may have been told.”
“There are good reasons for my silence,” she began.
“Sit,” said Ewan, waving both younger men to a seat at the table. “Eat and quench your thirst. As ye do so, the tale can be told. There is a lot that must be said and decided upon.”
“Aye,” agreed Artan as he and Lucas took their seats, “such as when the wedding will be.”
Liam quickly grabbed Keira by the hand when it looked as if she was going to flee. He gently but firmly tugged her back into her seat. This was not how he had wanted things to progress between them, but he could see no way out of this rapidly closing trap they found themselves in. He may have been able to convince his kinsmen to give him time to persuade Keira on his own, but he doubted her brothers would heed him.
As the tale was told from the time of Duncan MacKail’s murder to his and Keira’s arrival at Scarglas, Liam kept a close watch on Keira. He tried not to be stung by how pale and upset she looked as the talk turned to marriage. No one liked to be dragged into a marriage they were not ready for. Even he found it irritating, and he wanted to marry her. The wooing would have to come after the marriage, he decided. He soothed his unease by reminding himself of the passion she had revealed and that, before Lady Maude had arrived, he and Keira had been very compatible.
“There is no need for this,” Keira said, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. “We did nothing wrong.”
“We believe ye,” said Artan, “and so do these good people, but few others will. The mon is kenned to have a winning way with the lasses. He is nearly a legend in some places.”
“How nice for him.” Keira briefly glared at Liam before turning her anger back on her brothers. “And ye think it a good thing to marry me to a mon who is so profligate he is a near legend?”
“Profligate is a wee bit harsh,” Liam murmured, but no one paid him any heed.
“I have only been widowed for a few months,” Keira continued. “’Twould be unseemly for me to marry again so soon. Aye, and widows are allowed more freedom than maids, are they not?”
“They are, if they are discrete. Sharing a wee cottage with a mon for a month isnae discrete. Nor is sharing a bedchamber at an alehouse or traveling alone together for three days.”
“Ye were that close behind us?” Liam asked.
“Aye. We finally recalled how close Keira and our cousin the monk always were and hied ourselves to the monastery. Got there whilst the Kinnairds were still arguing o’er ye. There will be nay more of that once ye are wed to our sister,” Artan added in a hard voice.
“There wasnae any of that with Lady Maude to begin with.” Liam inwardly cursed when he could see by their frowns that neither of Keira’s brothers believed him.
“Artan, what does it matter what might be said of me?” Keira asked. “As soon as Rauf is removed from Ardgleann, I will settle there. Any gossip or rumor about me will soon fade.”
“Will it? Will it fade fast enough to keep many of your kinsmen from having to defend your honor?”
Keira felt her heart skip with alarm. She opened her mouth to argue with that statement only to close it again. All she could think of to say was that such a problem would never arise, but she knew that was a lie. She could not bear the thought that even one person could be hurt or, God forbid, killed because of rumors about her. The fact that her brothers already knew so much made it certain that there would be rumors about her and Liam. Mary had obviously given them an earful from all her brothers implied, and Lady Maude appeared ready and willing to spread the tale. The fact that Lady Maude was chasing Liam all over the country would not stop people from listening to the woman or repeating whatever she said. The fact that the supposed sins had been committed on the grounds of a monastery would only make the lies more intriguing.
It was all so unfair, she thought. She and Liam had not done anything wrong. Although there was some comfort in the fact that everyone gathered in the great hall believed her, sadly, Artan was right to say that no one else would. In all fairness to Liam, it was not even his reputation that was at fault. Not completely. It was enough f
or most people that a man and a woman had spent weeks together alone.
When Liam put his hand over her clenched one, she stared at their hands as they rested on the table. His touch, the subtle stroking of his fingers, worked to ease the tension within her. She wished that touch could smooth away all the troubles that lay ahead. There was one particularly huge complication just ahead, and Keira had no idea how to solve it. By the sound of it, she and Liam would be married tomorrow, which gave her less than a day to come up with some solution, one that would not betray her vow to her late husband or the vows she would soon exchange with Liam.
“’Tis our clan’s way to allow a woman some choice in marriage,” she said, trying one last time to put a stop to the marriage. “Ye are nay giving me one.”
“Aye, choice is best for all concerned,” said Lucas. “Ye were allowed that the last time. Howbeit, there are times when it cannae be allowed, and this is one of them. In the past, there were similar situations, but the couple sorted themselves out ere force needed to be applied. With a battle facing us, we dinnae have time to play that game.”
“Weel, have at it then,” she snapped as she leapt to her feet. “’Tis evident ye dinnae need me to help in all your grand plans for the rest of my life.”
Liam joined the others in watching Keira stride out of the great hall, Fiona quickly following her. The way all the men looked wary and chagrined as they watched the small, delicate Keira leave in a fury would have been amusing at some other time. At the moment, Liam was too busy trying not to take her reluctance to marry him too personally. He turned to frown at Keira’s brothers.
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