Chapter 12

12

Alison hadn’t been sure what to do when she woke up alone in Liam’s room. The fact that he had left her there, no note, no wake-up call at all sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. She had stayed for a while, sitting at his table and thinking about what she would say to him when he returned. She had a few ideas. She wanted to berate him for her waking up with no idea of what last night meant for them. If he were anyone else, she would know exactly what it meant. Then again if he were anyone else, she wouldn't have spent the night with him to begin with. The revelation that despite the years of hurt between them, she would so easily fall back in bed with him had her angry at not only him but herself. The bonds of marriage and loyalty had persisted for so long and yet beyond this one night she had no path towards a different future.

Before she could be caught by some unsuspecting chambermaid, Alison darted back across the hallway and into her own bed chamber. She bathed, frowning at the thought of removing Liam’s scent from her skin. But she couldn't deny that she felt a little better and more herself once she was refreshed and in new clothes. She finished everything just in time for her breakfast to be delivered and unlike the norm she decided to take it alone. She needed time without prying eyes to figure out what last night meant to her before she could confront Liam on what it all meant to him, if anything. She needed a moment to steel her heart against possible destruction if he ignored her questions or divulge that last night meant nothing to him. She wasn't sure which would be worse; if it meant nothing to him, she wasn't sure if she could go on as they had been. Something vital had changed with each touch and each kiss last night. Something had changed within her, a feeling that she knew would never be able to be corked again. And in truth, she didn't want it to be.

For the past three years she had been living a sort of half-life not quite alive and yet not quite dead. It was the sort of life you would expect when awaiting your husband to return from war. The time between sleep and wakefulness where anxiety lived. Last night had tipped the scales in the other direction. She could have gone on thinking Liam unfeeling if not for the way he trembled against her and the way his kisses spoke of feelings long since buried. The passion he had coaxed from her would not be put away in a box to atrophy until it finally faded away. It would either be acknowledged or stamped out in a violent burst that killed all traces of it never to return. That would be the easiest and yet the most devastating. But Alison couldn't see another way forward that didn't end in sadness for herself. Especially if Liam had only had a moment of weakness rather than acknowledging the rightness of their union.

The early morning passed in silence, the air in her bed chamber thick with the scent of worry. After breakfast, Alison had been lost in thought tracing her fingers along the intricate carvings of the table in her room. A sudden clamor shattered her reverie, and she was jerked from her thoughts at the sound of distant shouts echoing beyond the window, followed by the unmistakable clash of metal on metal. Heart racing, she dashed toward her door, gown swirling around her legs. She threw it open making her way through the hallway, ignoring the cold stone underneath her bare feet. If she had stopped to notice, she would have seen servants and maids flocking around, some going to the window and others purposely ignoring the commotion.

When she flung open the doors and stepped into the courtyard, she vaguely acknowledged the way the sun broke through the clouds casting golden rays over the scene before her. The grass was green and lush looking like the softest bed to lay on and yet those perfect blades were suddenly trampled underneath quickly moving feet. A few guards rushed past, their faces set in grim determination as they mediated the scene. There was a ring of people gathered around, all shouting with excitement. The energy was electrifying, and it drew Alison closer as she tried to get a glimpse of what was happening. She saw many elders and remembered that they had a meeting that morning. It loosened something in her chest when she realized that Liam’s absence might not have been due to his thoughts about their night together but rather due to ongoing responsibilities. It still didn't explain what the commotion was and so she pushed forward, the crowd opening to her like a knife slicing through bread.

Alison's pulse quickened. Voices rose around her, a chorus of fear and anger, and she drew ever closer before finally breaching the most inner ring of onlookers.

“Stay back,” a guard shouted, holding his hand out as if to sweep her away. His face was a mix of fury and excitement, and Alison did her best not to trip over her gown as people surged against her back trying to catch a glimpse of the two people in the middle who were locked hand in hand.

“What's happening?” Alison called out, her voice rising above the group. She felt a strange pull and needed to understand the chaos unfolding before her. When she finally caught a glimpse of the two warriors, her eyes widened when she realized that it was Liam and Bain locked in combat. She didn't understand what was going on. True, Liam and Bain weren't the best of friends. The cousins always seemed to be circling one another like vultures soaring over a desired carcass. It was easy to see that they were not one another's favorite person, but not once had Alison ever seen them fighting in such a way. Not even in their youth had she heard of them clashing physically.

One of the other guards, a young man with a scar across his cheek, turned to her, his expression clearing for a moment. “My lady, it is a challenge. The meeting with the elders has descended into chaos with Liam and Bain wanting the clan to go in two different directions.”

Alison's heart sank. She had always known that Liam and Bain had two different schools of thought when it came to the direction of the clan. Not that she knew of Liam’s feelings recently. The last they had discussed had been three years ago when he brought up some of the many changes he hoped would take the clan in a new direction of prosperity. Bain, she knew, was much more traditional, and wanted to continue the traditions of the past, not rocking the boat and keeping the clan on an even pace. Alison was more of the mind that progress was inevitable and so it should be acknowledged in order to keep it from galloping out of control. But her input was typically not taken into account given Liam’s lack of attendance to previous discussions. To know that this started because he brought forth ideas today was something she needed to resolve in her mind. It gave her hope and hope was often a dangerous thing to engage in.

Bain’s breath came out in wheezing pants as he jerked away from Liam’s hold. He had taken to darting forward, hoping to catch Liam off guard and make an opening for him to strike. As children, he and Liam had occasionally engaged in this sort of dance of violence before, but never to this extent. He remembered Liam as a small child whom Bain had always outflanked. He had assumed it would be similar now, given his stature in comparison to his cousin. But with each moment that ticked past, Liam landed even blows, not rising to the bait. It frustrated Bain to not be able to reconcile this Liam to the one he had known only yesterday. What had changed last night to bring forth the man that stood before him? A bit of movement behind Liam caught Bain’s eye, and he glanced over just in time to see Alison break through the crowd that had gathered around them. His lips curled in an unsettling smile before he turned his attention back to Liam.

Now is the time to strike where he least expects it, he thought to himself. “Are you just going to keep dancing or are you actually going to fight?” Bain said, pitching his voice loudly so that the crowd around could hear. Liam's expression didn't change but his lips did quirk up in a smile.

“Are you that eager to lose?”

Bain scowled, nearly letting loose a fury of blows. He reigned his anger, knowing he needed to handle things in a way that would cripple Liam, leaving him vulnerable for Bain to deal the final blow. He couldn't be too over eager. A misstep now would render his plans useless.

“Lose?” he asked. “No, I'm only curious to know how much time you're going to waste here knowing that you have a son on the way from one of your pets. We wouldn't want to leave her waiting.”

Liam had been shifting from foot to foot as he countered Bain’s punches. Now, though, he seemed to falter, slowing to stand in front of Bain with a curious expression. “Pets? What are you talking about?”

Bain curled his lip up. “Surely you haven’t forgotten the darling maid you charmed into your bed four months past. I heard she should be showing soon, a sign of your virility, I’m sure.” He felt a sliver of smugness at Liam’s darkening expression. He knew paying off those servants to spy would come in handy, and he was finally about to see the fruits born of his labor firsthand. The final death knell for Liam’s reputation, not only with the clan, but also with his wife, was beginning to sound.

Liam’s expression changed as he slowly started to understand what Bain was getting at. He swallowed hard, throat bobbing as he called his cousin’s bluff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bain knew he had him then. When he saw the look on Alison’s face, he knew it was time to drive the point home. Liam was no good, not for the clan, not for Alison and not for securing Bain’s future power. “You don’t remember the chambermaid you took to your bed? I suppose if you have spent most of your time taking anyone who would have you except for the one you’re supposed to want, then forgetting isn’t surprising.”

Liam’s stance shifted when he realized that although the words were coming at him, Bain was looking beyond him. He turned to glance over his shoulder, eyes widening when he realized that there in the crowd stood Alison. Her hair was still loose, flowing around her shoulders, and he swore he could still see the flush from last night on her cheeks. Or perhaps she was flushed with anger from clearly hearing Bain’s words. That had to be why her gaze was hard, closed off in a way it never had been before.

“Alison,” Liam said, his voice barely heard over the raucous crowd. He could see the moment when she heard him because her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head once. There was disappointment there; the type of disappointment that cut Liam straight to his core. It was the disappointment that he tried so hard not to see. But now that it was visible, he could confirm that it was worse than anger, though there was plenty of that on her face as well.

Without a word, Alison turned and fled, pushing through the crowd in order to escape the embarrassment that came along with realizing she was not the only one who heard Bain’s accusations. The worst part was that she knew he wasn’t lying. She had known that he took others to bed and when she had heard of the chambermaid’s pregnancy, the first thing that had come to Alison’s mind was how there would be an heir, but not from her. She was a Lady in name only, with nothing to show for it but embarrassment and a broken heart.

Liam took a step away from Bain, all his attention on the woman he had bedded the night before; the woman who he had pledged to never hurt. He was so distracted he didn’t see nor hear when Bain came at him until a fist slammed into the side of his face. Liam staggered back, his nose bloody as the crowd swelled again. Bain had taken his cheap shot, but Liam wouldn’t make the same mistake of letting himself be visibly distracted twice. All of his anger and pain flowed through his muscles, and he knew there was one way he could get it out.

He squared up with Bain, and when his cousin went to throw another punch, Liam slipped under his arm, punching forward and catching him in the chest knocking out Bain’s breath. He followed with another swift punch to the gut, dropping him to the ground, but instead of stopping and moving along, Liam straddled him, punching down furiously. Each thwack of his fist against Bain’s face had him smiling; a sharp grimace that looked more like a threat than a picture of amusement. Liam howled, channeling his frustration into blow after blow until Bain was more focused on covering his face, arms curled around his head, than fighting back. Liam had no intention of stopping, wanting to see Bain reduced to nothing more than a whimpering fool, cowering in fear, knowing he had been bested. If not for hands wrapping around him, Liam would have broken his hands to see that happen.

Liam stood, shrugging off the hands and ignoring the onlookers as he huffed out his breath. He was bloodied with his nose still dripping and the skin of his knuckles broken in some places. But Liam stood above Bain, his mind awash with the smug sense of victory at having bested him. It took him a moment to realize that he had been baited into a situation that had harmed the one person he loved. He had to find Alison. He had to explain.