Page 13 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

“And, weel, me maither is there,” she continued. “I havena seen her in such a long time. She kept writing tae me, and I did too, but the last time I saw her was a few years ago – when me faither sent me to that school.

“It sounds like you miss her,” Liam said.

“I do. And I’m all she has. She was me faither’s captive, ye ken,” she said. “He took her as his mistress and then left her. She’s been all alone noo without me by her side.”

Liam raised an eyebrow; surprised by the revelation. “I didnae ken. I thought—”

“Nae many ken,” Muriel said; interrupting him. “But I am the only bairn he has so he is verra fond of me. Me sister… if ye could call her that, she’s nae his bairn. My step-maither had her from her first marriage. That woman is the only reason why I’ve been away from me maither for so long. She hates me. Me faither sent me to Edinburgh so I wouldna have to be around her. Or maybe so that she wouldna have to be around me.”

Liam huffed out a humourless laugh; shaking his head. “I met her when I went to Barra to see yer faither. She was polite to me but nae verra kind to those around us.” And if there was anything that Liam knew, it was that he should judge people not by the way they treated him – a noble born – but by the way they treated those of a lower station.

“She hates me most of all,” Muriel said. “She hates that me faither had me out of wedlock, and I cannae blame her for bein’ angry but I wish she didnae take it out on me.”

“Me faither is Laird MacAlpine… me mother was a maid,” Liam said. “I ken what it’s like; being the illegitimate bairn.”

His words seemed to startle Muriel; making her lean a little closer to him over the table. “It’s the worst, is it nae? Sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off if I disappeared from their lives. It seems like just me presence causes trouble, but I didnae ask to be born. I dinnae ken why she’s so angry at me. She should be angry at me faither.”

“Aye, that would be the wise thing to do,” Liam agreed. “But it’s easier for her to hate ye. I never met me faither or his wife but I cannae imagine that she would be happy about me existence.”

“So she would hate ye for somethin’ ye didnae even do?” Muriel asked.

“I dinnae think it matters to them.”

Muriel hummed; deep in thought. Liam considered it a minor victory when she finally brought the spoon to her lips and took a bite of the stew.

It would be easier if he were the uncaring man Muriel had accused him of being only the previous day. He could just let her be, unconcerned about her happiness, but that wasn’t who he was. He'd probably end up trying to cheer her up the entire way to Lewis, he reasoned, but it was a small price to pay if it were to make someone else happy.

Especially her. She doesna deserve this. Though I suppose nae one does.

Muriel ate her stew, if not with great pomp, then with surprising speed. She must have been starving after going so long without food, but when Liam offered her a second plate, she declined.

“Thank ye, but I would rather go back to sleep,” she said. “One night I stayed awake and I cannae keep me eyes open.”

Liam nodded in understanding. They’d depart at the first crack of dawn so it was best for him to retire for the night, too. Standing from his chair – he helped her do the same and half-carried her up the stairs and into the room. For a moment, he hesitated. There was room for him on the floor, but sleeping in the same room with her hardly seemed appropriate. Still, one room was already costing him more than he liked.

I should have made her faither pay for this.

Besides, with him in another room – if something, anything, happened – he wouldn’t be able to protect her. He wanted to be near her at all times, especially after she’d tried to flee.

“How’s yer leg?” he asked.

“Better,” Muriel said. “I think I’ll be able to walk on me own soon.”

Liam nodded. It was a good thing, since he never knew when they would encounter danger on the road. He needed Muriel to be able to run if someone attacked them.

“Good,” he said and then headed for the door. “Goodnight, Muriel.”

Once he was outside the room, he glanced left and right. The corridor was wide enough for people to pass through, and he could see the inn's main entrance, windows, and every other weak spot from the door.

I’ve slept in worse places.

With a sigh, he plopped himself down in front of Muriel’s door and curled up against it; using his arm as a pillow. Sleep came easy to him and, before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep slumber – undisturbed even by the other guests who walked past him.