Page 19 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

“What do ye want to ken?” the man asked; spitting a mouthful of blood on the ground. Liam seemed to have knocked some of his teeth loose but that was the least he would do to him if he refused to cooperate.

“Who sent ye?”

It was Muriel who spoke; stepping up to the two of them. Liam could see that her hands were trembling just slightly but her mouth was set in a firm, determined line.

“Why should I tell ye?” the man asked. “Ye’ll kill me regardless, will ye nae? Why would I make it easy for ye?”

“Because if ye do, I’ll make it easy for ye,” Liam said. “I ken of many, many ways to make a man speak.”

“Go on, then,” the man said. “Torture me all ye want.”

It wasn’t what Liam expected but it wasn’t the first time that he had encountered someone like him. Making him talk would be unpleasant – the kind of thing that he wished he never had to do but had to be done, nonetheless.

“I will tell ye this, though,” the man said before Liam could get to work. “Even if ye kill me, there are many others who will come after me. And they willnae stop until the wee lass is dead.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Liam said; rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Muriel stopped him, though, placing a hand on his arm; pulling him a little further away.

“I dinnae think he will talk, Liam,” she said.

“Trust me. They all do.”

“Weel, I dinnae think ye should torture him,” Muriel said. “It’s just so… barbaric.”

“I dinnae have any other choice,” Liam pointed out. “I dinnae want to do this anymore than ye do but it has to be done.”

Muriel let out a soft sigh as she buried her face in her hands; shaking her head. “Are ye certain there isnae a different way?”

“If there was, I would have done it that way,” Liam said.

Eventually, she nodded but she still looked as though she was the one about to be tortured. Liam understood. He remembered the first time that he had had to do something like that for information – how his stomach had churned and his skin had been soaked in cold sweat. He was more used to it now but the dread of having to torture another person never went away.

“Who do ye think is after me?” Muriel asked. “Why would anyone want to kill me so much that he sends so many people after me? I… I’m nae important. I dinnae understand why anyone would want to kill me.”

“Ye’re the daughter of a laird,” Liam reminded her. “But ye’re right, this is unusual. It doesnae seem like whoever is doin’ this is after yer faither if he’s sendin’ so many assassins here to kill ye.”

It seems like they’re after her and her only.

Liam didn’t say that out loud but Muriel seemed to understand regardless. Her face paled; her hand reached out to steady herself on Liam’s shoulder. The sudden realization that whoever was after her would not simply leave her alone, and that they were specifically targeting her, was too much to bear. Liam wrapped his arm around her, offering her what little comfort he could, and felt her tremble like a leaf against him.

She stepped back after a moment, but her words faltered just as she was about to speak.

“He’s escapin’!” she shouted; a finger pointing at the man, who was now mounting one of Liam’s horses.

“Stay here,” Liam said. He began to sprint after the man but he had no hope of catching him when he was on horseback. He gave up after a few moments and watched him flee, a frustrated groan escaping his lips.

Everything was going wrong, and Liam didn’t know what to do in order to keep her safe. Every day seemed to be even more dangerous than the one before, and he was only one man doing the work of many.

That’s it. I just need more people by me side.

He'd have to take Muriel back to his house for a while. It didn't make sense to keep moving toward Lewis when a new assassin would follow them every new day. Argyll wasn’t too far from where they were and no matter who came after them, they wouldn’t be able to harm her there.

Defeated, Liam made his way back to her. “I’ll take ye to me family,” he said. “Me home’s in Argyll. Once we’re there, we can contact yer faither and we can gather more men before settin’ off for Lewis again.”

“Yer family?” Muriel asked. “Are ye certain that it’s alright to go there? What if one of the assassins hurts someone from yer family?”

“They cannae,” Liam assured her. “Our home is like a fortress; nae one who’s nae trusted can come inside. Ye dinnae have to worry about that.”

Muriel nodded, her relief palpable in the way she collapsed, all her energy draining from her. She looked at the house, where the flames were still blazing. All of the wood in the structure had been consumed by the flames, and it was now little more than ruins.

“Ye’ve saved me life three times already,” she said. “I dinnae ken how to thank ye.”

Liam sat down next to her; giving her a humourless laugh. “It’s me job,” he said simply, but there was something more than that and he knew it. The more time he spent around her, the more he wanted to make sure that she was alive and well.

And happy.

He could only hope that she was wrong about her marriage and that Laird Macleod would be a good husband for her. That was what she deserved—a happy life with a happy family.

He could only hope.