Page 64 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

The dungeon had no windows to let in the morning light. Instead, Liam was startled awake by the sound of approaching footsteps. The guards seemed to have made it their mission to rouse him in the most obnoxious way possible; stomping around in front of his cell until he blinked his eyes open and sat up on the cot, glaring at them.

“What?” he asked. “I dinnae even get to break me fast?”

“Laird Macleod is ready,” one of the guards said, ignoring his question. He opened the door and the two of them marched into the cell; grabbing Liam once more but he was quick to push them off this time.

“I dinnae need to be held like this,” he said. “Dinnae fash, I’m nae goin’ to run. I want this duel more than anyone.”

Despite his assurances that he would not be leaving, the guards remained close to him, one in front of him and the other behind him, bracketing him as they led him up the stairs and outside.

Liam raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden flood of light. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day meant for joy and peace, not for a duel. Nor death. Nonetheless, Liam would not hesitate to do what was necessary.

The two guards led him to the courtyard, where a large crowd awaited him. He hadn't expected to see so many people, but it didn't bother him in the least. Laird McNeil, Muriel, and Lady Hextilda were among them, much to Liam's chagrin. He realized that if she was present, it meant that his and Muriel's account of the events had made no difference to him.

Muriel seemed to know it, too. She was keeping her distance from Hextilda; keeping several steps between them as though she feared that her stepmother would attack her again, even in plain sight.

Liam wanted to tell her not to be afraid. It hurt him to see her so frightened of a woman who was supposed to be her family.

I hope that her maither, at least, is alright. I wonder where she is.

She could have made it back home safely or she could be held somewhere in the keep for all Liam knew. With everything that had happened the previous night, he had neglected to try and find out if anyone had seen her and whether she was alive and well. But now was not the time for him to focus on that, not as one of the guards brought him to stand across from Macleod – who was dressed in a luxurious deep blue coat embroidered with silver thread and equipped with a fine sword bearing an engraved hilt.

Liam, on the other hand, was still in his servant’s disguise and the night in the cell had left him covered in dust and grime. He was far from the kind of opponent who looked like he was worthy of a duel with Macleod but perhaps that would work in his favour. Even Macleod himself, who had met him in the past, could make the mistake of underestimating him when he looked like that.

One of the guards handed Liam a sword, one that was not his own. He looked at it for a few moments, turning it around in his hands as he examined it and then handed it right back.

“Where is me own sword?” he asked.

The guard hesitated and Liam caught him glancing at Laird McNeil but the laird said nothing.

“I willnae fight if I dinnae have me own sword,” he insisted. He knew his sword. He knew precisely how much it weighed, how it felt in his hands, how to move with it. Anything else would put him at a disadvantage, one that Macleod and Laird McNeil would surely want him to have.

“Bring him his sword,” Laird McNeil ordered; his voice loud over the crowd.

Liam waited until another guard handed him his own sword, then examined it to ensure that it hadn't been harmed by their careless handling. When he was finished, he gave Muriel one last look, finding her hands clasped in front of her chest, as if in prayer.

Liam uttered a brief prayer of his own. He was confident in his ability to defeat Macleod but that didn't mean he ignored Muriel's earlier warning. Macleod was a dangerous man and he couldn't count on thim fighting honorably..

Silence fell around them as Liam gripped his sword and placed a foot forward, preparing for the duel. There were only whispers in the crowd and he couldn’t tell what they were all saying. He wondered how much the nobles and the servants knew about the animosity between the two of them but even knowing how gossip spread, he suspected that none of them knew the whole truth.

Besides, Laird McNeil would do anything to keep the actions of his wife and the man who was supposed to be his future son-in-law secret to avoid the disgrace that came with them.

“Alright, Macleod,” Liam called. “Let’s put an end to this, shall we?”

Macleod didn’t speak. He simply gave Liam a short nod and assumed his fighting stance; his sharp gaze fixed on him. There were bags under his eyes, Liam noted, proof that no matter how confident he wanted to appear – he may have lost some sleep the previous night over the looming duel.

Liam sat back and waited for Macleod to make the first move. He expected him to be a hurried man, and he was proved correct when, not even a few seconds later, Macleod rushed toward him; his eyes wild with murderous rage.

Liam had suspected Macleod wasn't as composed as he appeared even if he hadn't seen him in such a state before. He wondered if that was how he intimidated those beneath him, with that almost-killing look.

But Liam wasn’t easily intimidated. He stayed still, waiting for Macleod to reach him and only when the other swung his sword did he move; parrying the blow. Macleod stumbled a few steps back but it wasn’t long before he attacked again – forcing Liam to jump back.

He wants to put an end to this quickly.

Liam couldn't deny that Macleod had the technique and But he was also in a hurry to kill him. if it was because he wanted to kill him so badly or because he was afraid he would lose if he let the duel go on for too long. What he didn't realize was that if he kept attacking in that manner, Macleod would tire out faster than he could kill Liam.

Hence, he threw himself at Liam once more with with a grunt, bringing his sword up with a fluid movement of his hand. Liam was quick to block his blade but not quick enough to jump back. Macleod used the distraction of his sword to land a fist on his cheek and Liam heard the crowd gasp as pain exploded from his cheekbone.