Page 42 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

“Lass… where does yer maither live?” Liam asked.

“Nae too far from here,” Muriel said. “Her house is by the shore, right behind that hill.”

As she spoke, she pointed at a high slope in the distance and it was all Liam needed to know to see that they would never make it there without someone getting in their way – whether it would be a guard or someone looking to make an easy payday. They wouldn’t have long before news of her arrival reached the keep and the last thing Liam wanted to do was anger her father even more.

“We should head to the keep,” he said as he helped Muriel off the boat and paid the man who had taken them there.

Muriel spun to face him, lips parted in shock. “I thought we would go to me maither,” she said. “Why would ye want to go to the keep?”

“If yer faither finds out we’re here, do ye nae think he’ll be angrier?” Liam asked. “At least if we go to him noo, we can ask for his help and hope that he will change his mind and give us his blessin’.”

Muriel placed her hands on her hips; her gaze moved between the two hills as though she couldn’t decide the best course of action. Liam himself wasn’t certain but the more time they wasted, the worse their position would be.

“Fine,” she said; pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “Fine, we will go see him. But ye’ll let me speak to him. If he’s goin’ to listen to anyone, it will be me.”

Liam nodded. “Aye, I’d rather ye do the talkin’,” he said and followed Muriel as she led the way to the keep; weaving her way through the crowd until they were on an empty path up the hill. The walk in the darkness was long and difficult for Liam but Muriel moved confidently, her familiarity with her surroundings obvious.

When they reached the castle entrance, the guards immediately recognised Muriel, even though she had been gone for a few years. They opened the gates and she entered, Liam scanning the courtyard as he walked alongside her. He'd been there before, when the laird assigned him the job, but now he had a reason to count the guards and possible exits, to mark the locations where he could hide if they came after him.

“We werenae expectin’ ye.”

The voice that came from the front doors was cold and severe and Liam’s gaze fell on a man that he recognised as the laird’s right-hand man and cousin, Kenneth McNeil. He looked much like the laird – with his thinning dark hair and steely grey eyes and very much unlike Muriel, who had seemingly taken after her mother’s side of the family. Though he was a smaller man, the deep baritone of his voice and the grooves around his eyes combined to create a menacing effect.

“Hello, Uncle,” Muriel said; her voice surprisingly level to Liam’s ears. “I didnae think ye would be here.”

“Mr. McAlpine,” Kenneth said, turning to look at Liam. “Care to explain why the two of ye are here?”

“I’ll explain everythin’,” Muriel said before Liam could answer. “To me faither.”

Her words made Kenneth’s eyes narrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yer faither is restin’,” he said. “It is quite late and he is a verra busy man. Ye can say whatever ye have to say to me.”

Liam saw Muriel look up – her gaze easily locating a window lit by candlelight. “I believe ye are lyin’ to me, Uncle,” she said, her gaze shifting back to him. “As I said, I will speak to me faither. And if he doesnae wish to see me noo, which I doubt is the case, I will wait for him to rest and speak with him the morrow.”

The two of them stared at each other and Liam couldn’t help but smirk at the way Kenneth seemed to be seething with rage, face red, curled fists peeking out of the fold of his arms. After a few moments, he took a step back, nodding for them to enter.

“If ye were any smarter, ye would have stayed in Lewis,” he told Muriel as they walked past him and his words filled Liam with anything but confidence. “It was foolish of ye to come back here.”

Muriel ignored him but once they were inside the keep, her hand reached out for Liam’s own and she held on tightly. Liam laced their fingers together; trying to give her what little comfort he could but he could tell that it wasn’t enough. She was trembling against him and her hand curled around his like a vice.

Still, her face betrayed none of her fear. She looked calmer than Liam had seen her in a long time.

Muriel paused at her father's door and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. It was short, far too short for Liam's liking, and he tried to hold on, but she pushed him back with a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with first,” she said.

What if I nae get another chance to kiss her? What if this is the last time I see her?

Liam shook those thoughts out of his mind. What good did it do for him to wallow in his worry instead of taking action? He'd already decided that nothing could ever separate them and all he had to do now was do whatever it took to achieve that.

Before Muriel could open the door, he kissed her again; trying to pour all the love that he had for her into it. She was warm like sunshine against him, her lips sweet like nectar and when he pulled back – he stared into her eyes with a smile.

“I love ye,” he said. “Dinnae ever forget that.”

Muriel's throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “I love ye, too. I willnae let anyone hurt ye.”

It felt odd to be on the receiving end of those words. Nothing like that had ever been promised to him before. He'd never needed anyone to promise him that but his chest tightened as he realized Muriel was willing to protect him as much as he would protect her. He, too, believed it. Muriel might not be able to fight off a swarm of men with a sword but she was astute. Liam had faith in her to find a way out of their plight.

Liam turned to face the door with a nod, his hand returning to Muriel's. Muriel knocked, and he held his breath; ears straining to hear the laird's response.