Page 61 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

“Never!” Hextilda said; twisting and turning in Liam’s grip as she tried to free herself. “I’ll kill her and ye both if I must but she is nae leavin’ this place alive!”

“Lady Hextilda, please… dinnae force me to hurt ye,” Liam said. He finally managed to pin Hextilda against the wall; his hands wrapped tightly around her wrists to keep her still but Muriel could see it in her wild gaze that the fight had not drained out of her yet. “Let go of the knife.”

Hextilda didn't say anything but Muriel could tell she was tense against Liam, her eyes searching for a way out as she calculated her next move. Muriel had no idea how to assist him. Even if there was a guard nearby, calling for one would be a death sentence for Liam.

But when she noticed Hextilda move, she couldn't even utter a warning before bucking under Liam. It wasn't enough to knock him off balance, but he stumbled a little, knocking the candle on Muriel's dresser off. It only took a few moments for the flames to engulf the dresser and Liam, surprised, drew back from Hextilda, letting go of her.

Hextilda's gaze shifted between Muriel and Liam, as if unsure of what to do. Muriel, on the other hand, was more concerned about the fire than the knife, because if she didn't try to put it out, it could easily spread throughout the room and kill all three of them.

As the flames rose a tapestry on the wall, Muriel grabbed the pitcher of water for her washbasin. She threw it at the fire, extinguishing most of it, though some flames remained. Liam was the one who removed his cloak — and thus his disguise — and threw it over the flames, the heavy fabric suffocating them.

Muriel had no idea what would happen now that the flames had gone out. Hextilda still had the knife in her hand and appeared as determined as before. She was safe as long as Liam was present. Hextilda couldn't harm her.

“Let me leave. Let me take Liam and me maither with me,” Muriel said; hoping that she could resolve everything without any bloodshed. “I promise ye that I will never return to Barra. Ye’ll never see me again. Laird Macleod willnae see me again. Nae one needs to get hurt.”

Hextilda let out a weary sigh – shaking her head. “Do ye nae understand? Even if ye leave noo, yer faither will find ye and he’ll bring ye back. He’ll kill the lad and he’ll force ye to marry Laird Macleod. He willnae hesitate again.”

Muriel caught a glimpse of Liam's face as he realized that no matter where they were, her father would not leave them alone. She couldn't let him lose hope, not when they were so close to escaping alive.

“Yer maither is already safe, Muriel,” Liam said. “Ye dinnae have to worry about her. I let her out before I came to find ye.”

Muriel would be relieved if it weren't for the impending danger they were all in. Things could still go wrong. Her mother could still be hurt, and she and Liam could both die. But, at the very least, it was a good first step. Hextilda, on the other hand, didn't seem pleased. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the knife.

“Weel… I dinnae care about yer maither,” Hextilda said. “As long as I get to kill ye. But before I do that, I need to kill ye.”

As she spoke, she turned to face Liam. She rushed toward him; the failure of her previous attempt seemingly having no effect on her desire to kill them both but the sudden sound of approaching footsteps made her halt.

“What is happenin’?” a familiar voice asked and Muriel saw her father standing at her door, accompanied by Laird Macleod and a crowd of nobles and servants.

And in all that mess, all Muriel could think about was Liam and how he was in more danger than ever.