Page 23 of Seduction in a Kilt

CHAPTER TEN

Never in his life had Liam felt like such an absolute bastard as when he looked down at Ivy’s rain-soaked, tear-stained face and saw the pain and defeat in her eyes. Knives of guilt stabbed at him, causing him to question who he was and what he was doing to this fragile, courageous woman lying before him, albeit being dressed as a boy.

He was furious with her for taking such risks with her life, while at the same time relieved she was unharmed and that she had not managed to pull off her escape. She was wrong to say it would have cost him nothing. It would have cost him his pride, as a man, as a professional soldier, as Knox’s trusted friend.

Even so, just looking at her so miserable and bedraggled made his chest ach, and her declarations of hatred stung. Deep down, he was sorry for dragging her back into her nightmare all over again.

“That was very stupid,” he said, his voice coming out softer than he had intended, so he cleared his throat to cover it. “Ye could have been killed,” he added more bitterly.

“I could have been free,” she shot back, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Ivy, I ken how ye feel⁠—”

“Ye ken naethin’ of how I feel, and ye care even less.”

“—but ye havetae stop tryin’ tae escape. It’ll dae ye nae good. I’ll just lock ye up tighter. I cannae let ye go, we cannae let ye go.”

She rolled over, muttering, “Go away, please, just leave me.”

He flipped her over again and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. She screwed her lovely features into a vicious scowl and tried to get free, snapping at his hand with her teeth like a dog. “Ouch! Ye’re hurtin’ me!” she cried, starting to pummel and kick at him. He merely gripped her chin tighter.

“Stop this! Listen tae me. I dinnae want tae hurt ye⁠—”

“Then get off me,” she snarled, shaking her head to loosen his grip. He came down on the bed next to her and leaned over her, so their faces were inches apart, his hand still holding her chin. She stilled, her dark-blue eyes flashing daggers.

“Ye havetae promise me tae give up and accept yer fate,” he told her in a low voice.

“I’ll promise ye naethin’.”

He suddenly let go of her and rose to his feet, partly because he saw he was getting nowhere trying to convince her. But also partly because of the sudden flash of heat in his loins. In her defiance, lying there beneath him, so close, she was more desirable than ever. He had only just held himself back from stopping her mouth with his own.

He paced about the room while she pulled herself up on her elbows and sat against the pillows, glaring at him balefully. He looked over at her and made a decision. “Ye give me nay choice. I’m gonnae havetae move in here with ye. If ye willnae promise tae stop all this nonsense, I cannae trust ye tae be alone. ’Tis the only way I can be sure of makin’ sure ye dinnae try tae run again.”

She sat bolt upright, alarm and disbelief etched on her face. “Ye’re nae serious? I’m nae sharin’ a room with ye.” She shook her head. “I’m a laird’s daughter. I’m nae a maid. ’Tis nae right nor proper.”

Amazed, he strode across to the bed. “Are ye serious? Nae proper? Does a laird’s daughter dress like a boy and steal horses and throw themsel’s out of bloody windows twenty feet up, in a ragin’ storm tae boot? I dinnae think so!”

She sniffed and looked down. “How did ye find me?”

“I came in, and the storm was blowin’ all around the room. Ye left the bloody window wide open.”

“Dammit. I forgot that,” she muttered. Then she shot him a piercing look. “Ye’re nae sleepin’ in this room!”

“I assure ye, I am,” he insisted, walking away again, tamping down the sudden vision that snapped into his mind, which did not have much to do with sleeping. “So dinnae bother arguin’ with me. Ye’ll be wastin’ yer breath.” He looked at her again, a small, soaking bundle of clothing dripping onto the coverlet, hair dripping from where it had escaped from beneath her cap.

It would do no good to anyone if she caught a chill. He crossed to the fireplace and put more logs on the fire, saying over his shoulder, “Ye need a hot bath before ye come down with somethin’, and some whisky tae warm ye up.” He stood up and brushed off his hands. “I’ll go and sort it out. While I’m gone ye can get out of those wet clothes before ye catch yer death.”

As he crossed to the door, he noticed the soaking pillowcase on the floor where she had dropped it. Glancing over at her, he untied it an emptied the contents on to the floor. He stirred the things about with his boot. A small parcel wrapped in linen caught his eyes and he stopped to retrieve it. It fell open, and a cascade of chunks of bread, bannocks, and suchlike tumbled to the floor. He stared at it for a moment, then at her. Guilt flashed across her features.

“So, ye let me think ye’ve been starvin’ yersel all this time when ye’ve been hiding all this away, eh? That’s plain devious, that is,” he said accusingly. It hurt to know she had fooled him, for he really had been worrying that she was not eating.

She made a face that told him she though he was an idiot and did not care what he thought.

Huffing in disbelief, he left the things lying where they were and made for the door. While he unlocked it, he cast he her a final warning glance. “And while I’m gone, dinnae be so foolish as tae try anythin’ like that again.”

“How can I when ye’ve boarded up the windows and locked the door, ye great lummox!” she shouted after him. Holding onto his temper, and his lust, he shut the door quietly.

On his way to see Knox, he waylaid a servant and ordered hot water for a bath to be brought up for the prisoner. There was a tub in his room which he planned to lug in there with his other stuff, since he was going to be sleeping in there with her from now on. Then he went to find Knox.