Chapter Fourteen
Clara stood atthe doorway into the great room and felt her stomach twist in a knot that she might once have labeled terror. And yes, this new Scottish adventure of hers was certainly terrifying. But something else was affecting her more strongly than the idea of facing an entire castle’s worth of people.
Liam.
He stood before her resplendent in his kilt as it wrapped around a loose-fitting blouse. It was his full regalia as befitted the son of the Laird, but she’d seen that before. Indeed, she had accepted it as his standard attire once they’d crossed the border into Scotland. Something else about him drew her stomach into knots and heated her skin to a prickly fire.
As was her wont, rather than focus on her reaction, she decided to pick apart what was different about Liam as he joined her at the door to the great room. He appeared to stand taller than before, his shoulders seemed to broaden, and his chest was puffed up to display his full strength. He was clean shaven, which was always nice, but why did he seem to be physically larger than ever before? Especially since she’d seen him half-naked while throwing a tree across a field?
She found her answer in his first words to her.
“Are you ready,myScottish lady?” His eyes twinkled as he spoke, his smile was warm, but there was a warrior feel to his body that seemed to transmit from him to her. It was all in the emphasis of the word “my.” Suddenly, he owned her. Everything about her—including her nationality—had changed to be his. And he dared anyone—everyone—to defy his claim. Including her.
She ought to be outraged. She had worked too hard to become her own person to easily give it up now. But in this, she was a perverse creature. Instead of being angry, she was excited. He touched her as if she were a crystal sculpture. She felt the callouses on his fingers as he pulled her hand to rest on his forearm, and then he set his other hand a top hers to anchor her there. She could have escaped. Strong as he was, he couldn’t hold her immobile if she wanted to twist away.
She didn’t. He’d invited her to use her knowledge to a practical purpose, and the idea had taken hold in her heart. She held in her head the memory of Deidre’s siblings. What could she do to make those children’s lives better? A bath house would be nice for her. Literacy would help them. She was a firm believer in the ability to educate oneself if one knew how to read.
She had plenty of other ideas, of course. She’d thought over every aspect of the last thirty-six hours with an idea to improvements. What ideas she had! Thanks to Liam, she could implement them all. And so she took up the challenge she saw in his eyes. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders in an echo of his stance. And she grinned when he smiled in appreciation.
“You’re beautiful,” he said as he gazed down at her.
She felt it. Better yet, she felt her body respond to the light in his eyes. She understood the basics of arousal, but the experience of it was still novel. She’d never expected the emotions to be this intense, never dreamed that the sight of a man would make her belly grow liquid or her nipples tighten. Her skin flushed, and she stretched up on her toes. He obliged her by leaning down, and soon their lips met. Her mouth opened, their tongues entwined, and the air around them burst into sound. Cheers, guffaws, and many lewd comments.
Absorbed as she was in his kiss, she tried to block out the sounds. But he pulled back from the kiss and turned to grin through the open doors of the great room.
When had they opened? In the middle of the kiss, obviously, but how?
She looked to the side where Mairi was gesturing two boys back to their seats. They’d opened the door, but how awkward about the timing. Her cheeks burned as the comments turned downright disgusting. She started to withdraw, but Liam held her hand tight.
“Steady,” he said under his breath.
“And here he is!” crowed the MacCleal from the head of the table. “Raise your drinks to my son who has made us all rich by plowing the Sassenach!”
Several people screamed, “The Sassenach bitch,” in response. Others just drank to being rich. Clara looked around, shocked into immobility by the crudeness of it all. She’d never been called a bitch in her life, much less any of the other things they said. And here everyone was saying it as if it were a lovely thing.
“Don’t listen,” Liam said in her ear.
She could hardly stop her ears. And even if she did, the gestures alone would make their words clear. Fortunately, she had something else to focus on as Liam’s father came forward with outstretched arms. Beside her, Liam stiffened, but she understood her duty. The laird wanted to greet her, so she gently disentangled herself from Liam and dropped into a curtsey.
A roar of approval went up from everyone in the room. Just how much had they already drunk this day? And then when she stood up, Liam’s father embraced her. He wasn’t as large as his son, but he had bulk in his belly and his arms that he used to great advantage. She was quickly smothered beneath him and then shocked as his hands roamed down her back to cup her arse with a full grip.
She squeaked in alarm, but the man held her firmly as he pressed himself against her. She was surrounded by his bulk, his smell, and his… Oh damn. His cock pressed against her belly. She tried to wriggle free. She tried to position her knee, but he was too big and—
He released her. She stumbled backwards while the crowd roared in delight. She turned instinctively toward the door, planning to run back to England as fast as she could. Instead, she ran straight into Liam who had a grip on his father’s wrist as he bent the man’s hand at an uncomfortable angle. No one but her could see this. Her body blocked their line of sight. And she heard true violence in Liam’s voice as he spoke in an undertone.
“Touch my wife again, and I will kill you. Make no mistake.” His brogue was at full strength and Clara shivered at the menace in his tone.
“If you cannot be a man wi’ her, then I’ll—aieeeee!”
Caught between the two men, she heard the full agony in the Laird’s cry, but she had no time to react as the MacCleal stepped back. Or maybe he’d been thrown back. She was too busy trying to regain her balance. Liam steadied her with one hand, but his eyes were hard on his father’s who held his right hand cradled against his belly.
“You dare—” the MacCleal began, but Liam cut him off.
“A hunt!” Liam bellowed as he turned to the crowd. “The Laird has declared a hunt in honor of my new bride!”
The reaction was immediate. Men throughout the Great Room banged their fists on the table as they cheered. Liam had to wait until the roar died down to be heard over them.
“Let the Laird and his men prove their mettle to the new MacCleal lady!” He pointed to six men in the crowd, naming them loudly as they stood with pride. “You are the great hunters here, the ones who are honored to be spared from the daily toil of the keep.”
