Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

N ever in his life had Liam felt like such an absolute bastard as when he looked down at Ivy’s rain-soaked, tear-stained face and saw the pain and defeat in her eyes. Knives of guilt stabbed at him, causing him to question who he was and what he was doing to this fragile, courageous woman lying before him, albeit being dressed as a boy.

He was furious with her for taking such risks with her life, while at the same time relieved she was unharmed and that she had not managed to pull off her escape. She was wrong to say it would have cost him nothing. It would have cost him his pride, as a man, as a professional soldier, as Knox’s trusted friend.

Even so, just looking at her so miserable and bedraggled made his chest ach, and her declarations of hatred stung. Deep down, he was sorry for dragging her back into her nightmare all over again.

“That was very stupid,” he said, his voice coming out softer than he had intended, so he cleared his throat to cover it. “Ye could have been killed,” he added more bitterly.

“I could have been free,” she shot back, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Ivy, I ken how ye feel?—”

“Ye ken naethin’ of how I feel, and ye care even less.”

“—but ye havetae stop tryin’ tae escape. It’ll dae ye nae good. I’ll just lock ye up tighter. I cannae let ye go, we cannae let ye go.”

She rolled over, muttering, “Go away, please, just leave me.”

He flipped her over again and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. She screwed her lovely features into a vicious scowl and tried to get free, snapping at his hand with her teeth like a dog. “Ouch! Ye’re hurtin’ me!” she cried, starting to pummel and kick at him. He merely gripped her chin tighter.

“Stop this! Listen tae me. I dinnae want tae hurt ye?—”

“Then get off me,” she snarled, shaking her head to loosen his grip. He came down on the bed next to her and leaned over her, so their faces were inches apart, his hand still holding her chin. She stilled, her dark-blue eyes flashing daggers.

“Ye havetae promise me tae give up and accept yer fate,” he told her in a low voice.

“I’ll promise ye naethin’.”

He suddenly let go of her and rose to his feet, partly because he saw he was getting nowhere trying to convince her. But also partly because of the sudden flash of heat in his loins. In her defiance, lying there beneath him, so close, she was more desirable than ever. He had only just held himself back from stopping her mouth with his own.

He paced about the room while she pulled herself up on her elbows and sat against the pillows, glaring at him balefully. He looked over at her and made a decision. “Ye give me nay choice. I’m gonnae havetae move in here with ye. If ye willnae promise tae stop all this nonsense, I cannae trust ye tae be alone. ’Tis the only way I can be sure of makin’ sure ye dinnae try tae run again.”

She sat bolt upright, alarm and disbelief etched on her face. “Ye’re nae serious? I’m nae sharin’ a room with ye.” She shook her head. “I’m a laird’s daughter. I’m nae a maid. ’Tis nae right nor proper.”

Amazed, he strode across to the bed. “Are ye serious? Nae proper ? Does a laird’s daughter dress like a boy and steal horses and throw themsel’s out of bloody windows twenty feet up, in a ragin’ storm tae boot? I dinnae think so!”

She sniffed and looked down. “How did ye find me?”

“I came in, and the storm was blowin’ all around the room. Ye left the bloody window wide open.”

“Dammit. I forgot that,” she muttered. Then she shot him a piercing look. “Ye’re nae sleepin’ in this room!”

“I assure ye, I am,” he insisted, walking away again, tamping down the sudden vision that snapped into his mind, which did not have much to do with sleeping. “So dinnae bother arguin’ with me. Ye’ll be wastin’ yer breath.” He looked at her again, a small, soaking bundle of clothing dripping onto the coverlet, hair dripping from where it had escaped from beneath her cap.

It would do no good to anyone if she caught a chill. He crossed to the fireplace and put more logs on the fire, saying over his shoulder, “Ye need a hot bath before ye come down with somethin’, and some whisky tae warm ye up.” He stood up and brushed off his hands. “I’ll go and sort it out. While I’m gone ye can get out of those wet clothes before ye catch yer death.”

As he crossed to the door, he noticed the soaking pillowcase on the floor where she had dropped it. Glancing over at her, he untied it an emptied the contents on to the floor. He stirred the things about with his boot. A small parcel wrapped in linen caught his eyes and he stopped to retrieve it. It fell open, and a cascade of chunks of bread, bannocks, and suchlike tumbled to the floor. He stared at it for a moment, then at her. Guilt flashed across her features.

“So, ye let me think ye’ve been starvin’ yersel all this time when ye’ve been hiding all this away, eh? That’s plain devious, that is,” he said accusingly. It hurt to know she had fooled him, for he really had been worrying that she was not eating.

She made a face that told him she though he was an idiot and did not care what he thought.

Huffing in disbelief, he left the things lying where they were and made for the door. While he unlocked it, he cast he her a final warning glance. “And while I’m gone, dinnae be so foolish as tae try anythin’ like that again.”

“How can I when ye’ve boarded up the windows and locked the door, ye great lummox!” she shouted after him. Holding onto his temper, and his lust, he shut the door quietly.

On his way to see Knox, he waylaid a servant and ordered hot water for a bath to be brought up for the prisoner. There was a tub in his room which he planned to lug in there with his other stuff, since he was going to be sleeping in there with her from now on. Then he went to find Knox.

It took Laird Stewart several moments to recover from the fit of laughter that seized him when Liam recounted the events of the last hour. He and Liam were sitting by the fireside in his study, drinking whisky.

“She has the heart of a warrior, nay doubt about it!” Knox cried, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “’Tis such a shame we havetae hand her over tae that swine of a braither. Jaysus! Ye’ll havetae go a long way before ye find a lassie with such spirit. I cannae help but admire her. And she’s easy on the eyes as well. What a combination!”

“Mmmm.” Liam sipped at his dram and watched his friend compose himself. “I thought ye’d be more interested in the fact I stopped her from runnin’.”

“I am, me friend, of course, I am. But ye must admit, she’s a wee wildcat. She claims tae be scared of this Gael, but I reckon she’ll give him a run fer his money, eh? Bloody hell, maybe I should wed her mesel’.”

Liam’s head jerked up. He scanned Knox’s face to see if he was joking. For some reason, he found he did not like the idea of him or anyone marrying Ivy at all. But Knox’s face was bright with mirth, so he relaxed again, certain he had spoken in jest.

“Anyway, she willnae promise nae tae try tae run again, so I’m gonnae move intae that chamber with her, so I can keep a closer eye on her until the exchange. Have ye had any word back from her braither yet?” he asked.

Knox shook his head. “Nay, nae yet. But the scouts who’ve reported back are sayin’ there’s nae sign of any army hereabouts.”

“That’s encouragin’, but ’tis nae guarantee MacAlister’s nae plannin’ somethin’.”

“Aye, true enough. I just wish he’d put us out of our misery, but he’s likely enjoyin’ keepin’ us in suspense,” Knox said. Then he leaned forward, his glass between his hands and grinned at Liam. “So, ye’re movin’ in with Ivy, are ye?” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “That’s workin’ out well fer ye, since I can tell ye have a soft spot fer her. Or maybe ’tis nae such a soft spot, eh, Liam?” he laughed uproariously again, while Liam felt his cheeks flush and grew annoyed with himself for being so transparent.

“Very amusin’,” he muttered, “but can we get back tae somethin’ more serious? Like another way tae get yer peace without forcin’ Ivy tae go back tae her braither. From what she’s told us, I dinnae trust him nae tae hurt her.”

Knox was instantly serious. “Aye, I’ve been thinkin’ about that too. But I cannae see how we can decide anythin’ until we hear from MacAlister. I’d like tae let her go since she’s clearly desperate tae get away from him and Hamilton. But at the moment, she’s the only leverage I have against the threat MacAlister poses tae me and the clan.”

Liam thought about that for a moment. Then he said, “Maybe we could give her a wee bit more freedom, as long as I’m guardin’ her all the time. What d’ye reckon about that?”

Knox nodded. “Aye, I’ve nae objection tae her leavin’ her chamber as long as ye make sure she stays either with ye or someone trustworthy inside the castle walls.”

“Aye, of course. I think some fresh air and exercise would dae her good.”

“Go ahead,” Knox agreed, looking up at Liam as he drank down his dram and rose to his feet.

“Thanks, Knox. Well, I’d best be headin’ back if I’m tae move me stuff in with her tonight.” He placed the empty glass on the mantel.

Knox grinned up at him. “Aye, lad, good luck with that.” His laughter followed Liam out of the room.

When Liam got back upstairs, he saw the servants waiting outside Ivy’s chamber door with cans of hot water, towels, soap, and wash cloths. He got them to bring the tub from his room across the hallway before tapping on her door.

“Ivy, yer bath’s here. Can we come in?”

“Dae what ye like. Ye always dae,” came the reply.

Ignoring the servants’ glances, he unlocked her door. Ivy was sitting in a chair by the fire, dressed in a loose robe. He saw she had hung her boy’s clothes out to dry by the fire. She gave him a sullen glance as he entered, with the servants behind him. She got up and moved away, standing silently, her arms folded, watching while the tub was positioned on the hearth rug and slowly filled with the steaming water.

When it was ready, Liam dismissed the servants. “I’ll give ye some time tae yersel’,” he told her before going out into the hall and locking the door. With a weary sigh, he went over to his chamber to sort out what he needed to take with him over to her chamber, thinking how much he would like hot bath as well.

A while later, he knocked on her door. “Ivy, are ye decent? I’m comin’ in.”

“If ye’re comin’ in anyway, then why bother askin’ if I’m decent?” came the sharp retort.

He unlocked the door and went in. As before, she was sitting by the fire in her robe. The air smelled faintly of lavender. The tub was still in place, the water faintly steaming.

When she saw him about to bring his mattress and blankets inside, she sat up straight, her eyebrows raised. “I told ye, ye’re nae sleepin’ in here with me,” she said sharply, watching as he lugged his things inside.

“Ye can blame yersel’ if ye dinnae like it. Ye’re the one who keeps tryin’ tae escape,” he pointed out, throwing down his stuff and locking the door behind him.

“Pah!” She folded her arms and turned away to stare into the flames, ignoring him while he organized his makeshift bed and possessions.

A tense silence reigned between them until two maids knocked on the door, bringing dinner. Liam let them in and directed them to place the trays on the table.

“Would ye like us tae get rid of that tub while we’re here, Sir?” one of the maids asked. Liam thought for a moment, then he went over to it and dipped his hand in the water. It was still warm enough to bathe comfortably by the fire, and he decided that was exactly what he was going to do.

“Nay, leave it. I’ll see tae it later mesel’,” he replied, dismissing the pair, making sure to lock the door behind them and put the key in his pocket. As he did so, he noticed Ivy covertly watching him. He had to smile to himself, feeling certain she would try to get the key from him while he slept. He would make sure she would not be able to find it without waking him. Secretly, he almost wished she would try.