Liam burst through the laird’s men to rush up to her side. She had little time to react. He looked at her, his face a dark mask of fury. His teeth were bared, and his hands fisted.
“I’m fine—” she began, but he didn’t wait.
Liam rounded on his father, and he punched the man straight across his face. “You would dare hit my wife?” he bellowed.
The MacCleal’s head snapped back, and he stumbled back. His men were no help in catching him, and the dogs began to bark in true fury now.
“Wait!” Clara cried, scrambling to get her feet under her. “Liam! Wait!”
“I didn’t touch her!” the laird bellowed.
Beitidh was faster than Clara. She was already on her feet and pointing at Clara. “You see what she has brought into your home? Son against father! It’s a disgrace, and it’s her fault!”
Clara had had a long day. Rage was not her usual temper, but these last days without Liam had frayed her nerves. And the last thing this situation needed was a low-class tart screeching over the barking dogs.
She pushed up to her feet, knocking Beitidh’s arm out of the way. That was all she meant to do as a high-pitched whistle called the dogs back. But the woman was not one to be pushed aside easily. She surged forward and Clara did what she’d been taught. It wasn’t even a conscious thought, but a reaction to someone coming straight at her face.
She threw her fist upward as hard as she could. Her fist caught Beitidh’s chin, snapped her head back, and sent her flying. It would have been more satisfying if her hand hadn’t immediately started throbbing, but she appreciated the sudden silence nonetheless. Especially as Beitidh appeared to drop unconscious from the blow.
“Ow,” Clara said, as she shook out her hand.
Then she peered closer at Beitidh. Had she killed the woman? To her relief, the lady breathed. Once. Twice. And then she began to blink hard as she came back to awareness. This time Clara was the one who pointed her finger.
“Stay quiet,” she said, and her gesture included the woman and the dogs.
Then she turned to Liam who stood before his father with both his fists raised.
“It wasn’t your father,” she said. “Liam, I tripped over a dog.” She touched his arm and felt the muscles quivering with emotions.
“He didn’t hit you?” Liam rasped. “I saw his fist raise. I heard you fall.”
“It was a dog. And Beitidh.”
“His woman.” He spat out the words.
Meanwhile, his father glared at his son. “You thought I would hit her? Your wife?” The outrage was clear in his voice.
“You have done as much before in your cups.”
“Not yourwife.” There was emphasis on the last word that told her the man had respect for the title if not the woman. It was enough. Especially since he had acted to save her from Beitidh.
Meanwhile, Clara tugged Liam back from his father. “Well, isn’t this lovely?” she tried with a false cheer. “Everyone’s home now. We can have a proper celebration…after everyone’s washed up, of course.” She raised her eyebrows in a hopeful expression. “Julian got a pump working in the bathhouse. There’s water there now. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Liam looked at her, his expression slowly softening from fury into bemusement. He touched her cheek and she felt herself relax into his palm. “You aren’t hurt?”
“Just my backside from tripping over the dog.”
“I’ll banish them from the hall.”
She looked past him. “I think they’re already gone.” Someone had indeed taken them outside. And while she watched, the women began ushering or chiding their men toward the bathhouse. There would be a long line as everyone cleaned the worst of the dirt off, but they wouldn’t argue with her about it.
Meanwhile, another man sauntered up with a cheeky grin on his face. She recognized him as Connall, the future laird of the Aberbeag. He stopped next to Beitidh, who was only now starting to sit up.
“Never knew a Sassenach could have such fire,” he said in a cheery tone. “Laid her out with one blow, and you a woman, no less. I’d wager Mairi could have done no better.”
Mairi would likely have seen this fight coming and found a way to prevent it. But Clara had done what she could, and it had worked. She saw respect in everyone’s eyes as they filed past her. That was nice, but nicer still was the way that Liam kept looking at her. His eyes were burning with intensity, and he had yet to release her. She pressed her lips to his palm.
“I have so much to tell you.”
