“It’s done!” he bellowed as he held up the sheet, bloody side in full view.
The crowd roared in approval and several bawdy comments were shouted into the room. And while Liam shoved Beitidh away from Clara, the MacCleal carried the sheet to the window, pushed aside the shutters and unfurled it to the wind. Another cheer rose up from the courtyard below, and Clara finally figured out what was happening.
It was “proof” of her virginity—or loss thereof—set out for all to see. It was a custom from hundreds of years ago, clearly still used here, and Clara could do nothing but gape around her at the scene. The laird waved at the people below the window, his men crowded into the doorway, all while Liam stood naked with a dagger in his hand. And she stood in a robe that smelled as if it hadn’t been washed in years.
“This cannot be happening,” she murmured. When had she landed in a gothic novel?
At her words, Liam turned toward her. His gaze flicked a hard glare at Beitidh and jerked his head toward the door. “Out,” he growled.
Beitidh stayed long enough to whisper into Clara’s ear, “I’ve saved your reputation this day. Keep me happy and no one else will know the truth.”
“That I’m still a virgin?” Clara asked, her mouth speaking before her brain fully caught up.
Beitidh sniffed. “I shall buy gowns of gold and velvet on your dowry.” Then she grinned at the MacCleal as she held up her hand. The man took it and together, they sauntered out of the room. They were barely past the door, though, when another commotion filled the hallway.
“Clara! Clara! Where are you?”
It was Aaron, bellowing as he tried to force his way through the throng of men. He was being held back. Aaron was a large man, but even he couldn’t get through a narrow passage blocked by five strapping Scotsmen and the laird.
She shot a terrified look at Liam. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to burst in on this, and she didn’t even know whatthiswas! But there was no help for it.
Liam sighed and stalked to the door. “Let him through. Let him through, damn it!” Then to make sure it happened, he grabbed one man by the shoulder and shoved him aside. A moment later, Aaron burst through the group. Liam stepped backward into the room to let him in. Aaron stopped, his mouth hanging open in shock as she saw Clara wrapped in the robe and Liam standing still naked nearby.
Then, with a hard, ugly growl, he slugged Liam.
It was a shocking sight. She’d never seen her brother in such a fury, never seen him lash out in the kind of hatred he showed now. And worse still, Liam didn’t duck, didn’t sidestep, did nothing but wait for the blow. Clara even had time to scream, “No!”
But it made no difference.
Aaron landed a solid punch on Liam’s jaw. Liam’s head snapped back, and he stumbled slightly from the force of the blow, but he didn’t fight back. And when Aaron lifted his arm again, Clara lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
“Stop it, Aaron! What are you thinking?” she cried.
Aaron turned his head slowly to look at her. His eyes were wide in his mottled face, but his words were clear enough. “Get dressed!” he snapped. “We’re leaving.”
Well, she certainly agreed with that statement. She’d decided last night that everything would be better after they returned to London. But something was going on here, and she couldn’t leave until she understood it. None of them could.
“Calm down, Aaron. You’re making matters worse.”
“I’m not sure how that can be,” came a voice from the doorway. It was Lilah speaking calmly with her gaze averted. Damn it, Liam was still naked.
Clara quickly picked up Liam’s tartan and passed it over to him. He took it with a quick jerk of his fingers. His gaze didn’t quite meet hers, but he murmured his thanks as he wrapped it about his body. His chest remained bare, and if it weren’t for the people in the room, Clara might have enjoyed looking at it in the sunlight. As it was, she could only wrap the robe around her tighter and gesture to the chairs in the room.
“Sit down, Aaron, before you punch someone else.”
“That bastard—”
“Stop it, Aaron,” Clara said, and Lilah seconded her words.
“Let’s hear the full explanation, please.”
They all looked to Liam, who stood with his body tight and his face clenched hard against any words. He looked as if he might explode, but he didn’t say a word. Indeed, he simply stood there looking at her.
No one sat down.
“Very well,” Clara said. “I’ll start. Aaron, I’m a demi-rep now. I’ll move out as soon—”
“You’re my wife!” Liam boomed out.
