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Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T he following morning Ivy woke up with a slight headache. She opened her eyes and saw last night’s dinner tray still resting on the coverlet nearby, just where she had left it. With a small groan, she sat up and rested her head in her hands, massaging her temples, trying to soothe the tenderness there.

She partly blamed the headache on the wine she had drunk the night before. Oblivion was what she had carved, and the wine had done the job, sending her quickly off to sleep.

But she also remembered waking up in the middle of the night awash with grief and sorrow at her plight.

She realized there was a jug of water on the tray, so she reached over and drank it thirstily all in one go. Then, she sat for a few minutes, trying to gather her thoughts, until she felt a little better.

Each new day began with the nagging worry that it would be the one when she was sent back to her brother, to a life of misery. It made her angry that Liam had told her nothing about what was going on with the supposed negotiations with Carson.

Quietly she reached over and peeped through the curtains. Daylight stabbed at her eyes from where it poured through the windows. Liam must have pulled the drapes. The fire was blazing in the grate, but his mattress and blankets had been neatly folded away, and the tub was gone. So was he.

That made her feel a little sad, she almost missed him. But there was no telling when he would come back again, so she forced herself to get up and wash, even though every movement sent sharp pains shooting through her head.

When it came to getting dressed, Ivy decided she could not be bothered to put on stays and petticoat and a gown. What’s the point? I’m nae allowed out of her so I might as well be comfortable.

Instead, she went over to the hearth and gathered her boy’s shirt and trousers and the long woolen stockings that went with them. She pulled them on, grateful for their warmth. Then, she took her comb and sat in the chair by the fire to comb out her hair.

That was when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. The door opened, and Liam came in, carrying a tray.

“Ah, ye’re awake. I brought ye some breakfast,” he said, approaching her and flashing her one of his lovely smiles that made it increasingly hard for her to hate him. He placed the tray down on the low table by the armchairs and sat down in the chair opposite.

“How are ye feelin’?” he asked with what appeared to be genuine concern.

“What d’ye care?” she snapped irritably.

“All right, be like that.” He poured her some tea and handed it to her, then helped himself to some breakfast.

After a few minutes of silence she asked, “Is there any news from me braither?”

He shook his head.

“But I have some good news fer ye.”

“I doubt it.”

“Knox and I realize it must be hard fer ye, bein’ locked up in here all day. We decided it would be all right fer ye tae go about the castle, as long as I’m with ye.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” she replied, hiding her excitement

“Aye, but ye must promise tae behave, dae as I say, and stay within the castle walls.”

“Alright.” She was still a prisoner, but it was some small concession, and she decided to make the most of it. “In that case, I wantae go and train. I wantae have a wee spar with ye.”

“What? Are ye serious?” His eyes had widened in clear disbelief.

“Aye, why d’ye look so surprised? D’ye nae think a lassie can fight? I’ve trained almost every day since I was young, just as ye.”

He was staring at her. “Is that so?”

“Aye, and I have the scars tae prove it. Would ye like tae see them?”

He shook his head slowly. “That willnae be necessary. I believe ye.”

“So, ye’ll spar with me then?”

“I’ll agree tae spar with ye on one condition.”

“Ach, I kent there must be a catch!” she said with disappointment bubbling up inside her. “What is it?”

“That ye agree tae grant me three wishes.”

“What?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“Aye, three wishes. The first is tae promise tae stay put and stop tryin’ tae escape. The second is tae tell me why ye’re so afraid tae go back tae yer braither. And the third is… well, I havenae decided what the third one is yet, but I’ll tell ye when I dae.”

“Ye’re nae jokin?” she asked, searching his face to see if he was.

“Nay. Ye must agree if ye wantae spar with me,” he insisted.

Ivy thought about what he was asking. It was hard to promise not to try to escape again. But ye tried yer best before, and he’s always caught ye out. Ye have naethin’ tae lose, so ye may as well promise, she told herself. Finally, she nodded. “All right, I agree. And I promise tae stay put.”

“Grand.” He nodded and gave a satisfied smile.

“But I’ll need me sword back,” she put in. “Only while we fight, of course.”

“I suppose that would be all right.” He looked at her curiously. “Why did ye decide tae train as a fighter? Ye havetae admit, ’tis rare fer a woman, especially fer a laird’s daughter.”

Ivy took a long sip of tea before saying bluntly, “I told ye me parents were killed in their beds in a raid on our castle when I was but ten years old.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “That’s terrible.”

She swallowed her mouthful. “Aye. It was terrible. Seein’ how they were slaughtered so easily made me determined tae be able tae defend mesel’ and me family, as well as fight fer me clan. It made me feel safer. So, I begged me faither’s war captain tae let me train as a soldier. I suppose he felt fer me because he agreed, and I’ve been trainin’ ever since.”

“Well, by the Wee Man, Ivy MacAlister, ye’re full of surprises,” he said, shaking his head wonderingly. For some unfathomable reason, his approval warmed her insides.

They finished their breakfast, and Ivy felt much better as she finished getting ready to train. Liam went to get her sword, and on his return, he presented it to her. “I want it back when we’ve finished our practice,” he warned.

“All right! Can we go now?” she burst out, her impatience getting the better of her.

“Just makin’ sure. Come on then.”

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