Chapter 5

5

The sun was already high in the sky when Liam returned to the castle. His head was pounding, no doubt from the last few drams of whiskey he’d downed to make up for his lack of company for the remainder of the night. He’d made sure that Bridgette and Fiona didn’t come to any harm before wandering back to his seat. After, he’d sat alone, his expression ensuring the chairs around him stayed devoid of life. He hadn’t bothered to fix his frown as he hadn’t truly wanted the company as it was. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say the night had started out so well. It was the same shitty night as always, but he’d at least been headed towards having suitable company before being derailed.

Fighting wasn’t something Liam often engaged in. Sure, it was nice to occasionally expend energy in ways other than between a woman’s thighs; and had far fewer complications. But it was generally frowned upon to come home to one too many bruises. War wasn’t on the horizon, but it was never too far away, and it wouldn’t do to be caught unawares and already injured when called upon to defend your clan. Liam might not be in charge, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be depended upon if the time called for it. He would answer the call gladly, putting himself in the way of the clan… and Alison. Still, he couldn't deny that if he weren't able to expend energy in bed, deriving satisfaction from the thrill of challenging and winning a fight with someone slightly larger than him was a close second to providing him satisfaction for the evening.

Now, though, he was unsure what he would be walking into. His previous conversation with Alison still lingered in his mind. No, not only that. It was her final expression—that telltale look of sadness that flashed over her expression before she schooled it away almost faster than he could recognize. The silence in the wake of his exit was almost enough to have him turn around. He had hoped he would get used to the tension between them over time, and yet, last night seemed worse than before. He didn’t understand what had changed. They had been maintaining this distance between them for years, and yet even he could acknowledge that something major had shifted between them. He had found a strange sort of contentment in knowing that Alison was safe in the castle, surrounded by chambermaids and servants to keep her preoccupied. It wasn’t what either of them had pictured for their marriage; he knew as much. But Liam knew this arrangement was for the best in the long run. Alison would see that someday. Until then, he would have to go to bed knowing that she was safe from the fire that still stoked his blood when he caught glimpses of her.

Even though it was nearly mid-morning, the castle was already abuzz with servants moving this way and that. Liam didn't doubt that his return home had already been announced, but before he could get roped into anything, he ducked inside his room, intent on quickly washing the night's festivities from his chilled skin. It was an apt move considering that when he opened his door again and strode out into the busy hallway, his cousin Bain was waiting for him. Liam took one look at him before striding away towards the great hall. He had meant to return sooner, but the last few pints had kept him in the land of sleep for a hair longer than he’d planned.

“Wee bit late this morning, aren’t you?” Bain asked as he took up stride beside Liam. “We wondered if you were planning to spend the morning away as well.”

Liam fought against lips that wanted to curl in annoyance. He wouldn’t give Bain the satisfaction of seeing him angry at his assumption. His cousin had been trying to get a rise out of him for years, long before his father had taken over the lairdship in place of Liam.

“O’course not. I know what today is,” Liam said, trying not to let annoyance bleed into his tone. His lip hurt where it had been split last night in the ruckus, and Liam pressed the mall cut with his tongue to staunch any bleeding. Thankfully, his bathing had revealed only minor injuries, the cuts and bruises littering mostly his upper body but a few standing prominently on his face like the trophies of battle. “I’m surprised you aren’t already in there, worming your way into more information and generally trying to seem more important than you are.”

It was a low blow. Liam knew how his cousin struggled with the idea of the lairdship not being passed on to him. But though Liam had been raised for it, he knew he didn’t deserve to lead the clan. Not as he was now, and certainly not as he would be. He could maybe afford to run the risk, but the clan couldn’t. Liam wasn't what the clan needed. They needed stability and someone they knew they could always count on to make the right decisions. The blood in Liam’s veins might have given him succession, but it also gave him a lingering fear that something deeper was lurking, waiting to drive him to madness. Years ago, the madness hadn't claimed the clan, only his stability, but who was to say that it wouldn't try again to drive the clan his parents had watched over lovingly into the ground?

“Smart words for someone who spends more nights in a whore’s bedroom than with his own wife.” The words did as they intended, striking into Liam more surely than any fist. They left him with his jaw clenched, fighting against the need to throw a punch. His mother had always said that violence wasn't the answer for everything. Liam hadn't quite believed it, nor had his father. If he had been here, Liam throwing a punch more than likely would have been celebrated, even under the disapproving glare of his mother.

But this, Bain’s acknowledgment of Liam’s nights away, was more than he could take. Bain knew that, and could see the way his words washed over Liam with forceful blows. It was his intention. He wanted Liam to know that everyone had witnessed his lack of care for Alison in every way. He wanted to see the evidence of those words smeared across Liam’s expression.

“You are awfully concerned with that which isn’t yours, cousin,” Liam replied from between gritted teeth.

He strode with purpose, throwing open the doors to the great hall, entering with his head held high. The meeting with the clan elders had clearly already begun, and they all turned to look at him, the conversation coming to a swift halt. The only servants inside were those most trusted, and they filled cups and plates with stores of food saved for this occasion. The smells enticed Liam forward, even when he wanted to do anything but.

“Liam,” Laird Cormac said as he rose from his seat. Liam’s uncle was a large man, though Liam knew he’d been larger in his youth. The years had been kind to him, and Bain favored him greatly, from the shrewd gray eyes that almost seemed to look through you to the dark beard that covered the bottom half of his face. In him, Liam occasionally got glimpses of his father, and he often had to turn away to keep from being pulled into the past. “We hadn’t thought you would be joining us this morn.”

Liam fixed a smile on his face as he walked over to the table. He motioned to one of the servants to bring him a chair and turned to face the elders while he waited. “Nonsense. I know how important these gatherings are, Laird Cormac. I fear I have missed far too much as of late. But starting now, I will ensure I am early to keep track of the clan business that pertains to me.”

When a chair was finally offered, Liam nodded in thanks before pulling it up to the table and dropping into it. He leaned back to take in the group, all faces he remembered seeing in his youth. He remembered coming to these meetings with his father and being quite bored with them. He hoped now would be different even though he wouldn’t have much to contribute. When the conversation didn’t resume, Liam smiled and gestured to the elders.

“Please, continue the conversation. I am here to learn from the wisdom of those most loyal to the continued strength of the clan.” His words seemed to loosen some tongues as the conversation picked back up in stuttered starts. Liam could tell that his presence unnerved some of them, and he fought hard not to smile.

Laird Cormac stared at him for a moment, before sitting again. His gaze stayed on Liam even when one of the elders spoke up from beside him.

“The Jamesons have a matter of uncontested land between their property and that of the McAllisters. They were hoping you’d be the deciding…” The man’s voice faded into the background as Liam did his best to pay attention. He knew these matters, as trivial as they seemed, were important to ensuring stability and peace within the clan. Liam’s father had often mentioned that much of the lairdship was making those within the clan feel seen and heard, even if the decisions made weren’t what was expected. Dissent was a normal thing, but could be easily mitigated as long as all parties felt they had a fair shot to get their points across. It was something Liam had seen in action many times in his youth.

“Now,” Laird Cormac said, his voice easily stamping down on those of the other elders. At his side sat Bain, his lips split by a wide scowl as he looked around the table. He hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than Liam. When one of the elders leaned over, whispering something into Liam’s ear that had him smiling, Bain’s scowl widened farther. He hadn’t wanted Liam here today, had even hoped he would spend more time and coin at the old tavern and inn with one of the women who frequented it.

Having him here at the meeting meant more of the elders looked to him than Bain’s father, the current Laird, which didn’t bode well for them looking to Bain when his father stepped down. The thought of Liam taking his place at the head of this table made Bain want to drive his fist through the table. Instead, he let out a slow breath and trained his gaze on Liam as more conversation washed over him.

“Next, we need to discuss the upcoming tithe collection,” Laird Cormac said, pulling everyone’s attention.

One of the elders whose name Liam couldn’t currently remember spoke up first. His voice was soft and almost raspy. Liam had to lean forward to hear him properly. “The decrease we put forward?—”

“Is denied.” Lord Cormac’s words fell like stones, sending out a ripple of unease that even Liam could feel. “Come now. We’ve talked aboot this many times, and the increase was necessary.”

With a frown, Liam interjected. “I think a decrease is worth considering, uncle, if the consensus is that it is hurting those in the clan. We should hear them out again before making a decision.” When several other elders nodded, their voices a soft murmur that spread around the table, Liam felt a part of him lighten. He wasn’t expecting people to look to him for thoughts. They hadn’t before, when he was in the grips of his grief and unable to bear any other responsibilities set on his shoulders. But now he felt stronger, more ready to think on clan matters and provide his input.

“As glad as we are for your presence here, lad,” Laird Cormac began, his gaze narrowed on Liam, “I do believe you should spend more time listening in meetings regarding clan matters than spouting ideals that don’t fit with reality.”

Confusion lanced through Liam at his uncle’s words. Ideals not fitting with reality? These were the ideals he’d learned from his father through the leadership of the clan. Liam had been born for this, trained from birth to think through and come up with solutions that benefitted the whole and not a singular good.

“Bain,” Laird Cormac said, drawing Liam’s focus again. “What thoughts do you have on this matter? It’s important for the clan’s future to get your input.”

Now Liam couldn’t hide his shock. It wasn’t uncommon to solicit thoughts from additional members, particularly those who have a direct line to the elders. What was uncommon was his uncle pushing for Bain’ thoughts when he had just rebuffed Liam’s own.

Bain sneered at Liam before speaking. “I think the increase is warranted. Last winter was hard, and we are still climbing out of the hole it took on our coffers.”

“But, that doesn’t?—”

“Thank you, son,” Laird Cormac said, cutting off Liam’s words. The air was thick with something , and it made Liam clench his jaw in anger. It was clear that Liam wasn’t wanted here and as much as he wanted to rage at being so easily tossed aside, he knew he couldn’t settle this with force like he had the confrontation last night.

Anger hot and sharp surged through him at the injustice of it—at how the conversation so easily moved on without him being part of it. With a final gnash of teeth, Liam stood, his chair scraping the floor as the sound of it echoed through the room. Laird Cormac didn’t look away from the elder he was speaking to, but Bain did, and Liam could see the smirk on his face. Without a word, Liam turned, stalking from the room, his footsteps ringing out like shots until they faded away.

Bain didn’t look away, his mind turning to his next move to secure his place as the heir to the clan. Beneath the table, Laird Cormac squeezed his hands into fists, gritting his teeth at the trembling quakes in his right hand. He didn’t know how much longer he had, but he knew they needed to move fast. He gripped his hands tightly, vowing to secure his legacy before it slipped between his fingers.