by Brit Darby
By the time he reached the lake, he was breathless. Each moment apart from Alianor seemed an eternity. How could he bear the agony of what he must do tomorrow? How much worse would it be when she was forever gone from his life?
He didn’t want to think about it and turned his attention to a more pleasant task, finding Alianor. He spotted her. She had cast her dress aside on the shore. Her undertunic was tied up around her hips. She splashed her feet in the crystal water, playing like a little girl as she waded about. Liam could hear her humming and she seemed at peace, content.
Liam smiled. He stopped to watch her, moving a pace closer so he saw the expression of delight he knew must be present on her lovely face. Turrean heard his approach and lifted her head, instantly alert. Recognizing Liam, the wolfhound gave a little sniff and laid her muzzle on her outstretched paws again. Only a flicker of her ears whenever he moved revealed the fact she was not sleeping as she appeared.
At first, Alianor seemed unaware Liam approached. He stood for a long time in the shadows of the trees behind her, enjoying the nymph-like vision in the water. She kept humming a merry little ditty, oblivious to his presence. Sensing someone watched her, she whirled about. A gasp escaped before she recognized who it was.
A smile teased at Liam’s lips. “You should be more careful, milady. Anyone could have been standing here, enjoying your state of undress.”
She cast a disappointed glance at Turrean. “That’s why I brought the dog along. I thought she’d discourage any who might wish to sneak up on me and take undue advantage.”
Liam chuckled. “But you forget, Alianor,” he moved closer, noting the sheerness of her damp smock left little to the imagination, “she is my dog.”
“Yes,” she conceded with a laugh, “she is your mangy hound.”
Liam tsked her, admiring the way the fabric clung to her slender yet lush figure, revealing the rosy peaks of her nipples. “Whatever happened to thinking she was beautiful?”
Eyes twinkling, Alianor stuck out her tongue at him. “That was before she betrayed me to you and your wicked thoughts.”
His eyebrow shot up in mock dismay. “I’ve said nothing to give you such a notion. Surely you misjudge me, milady.”
“Surely I do not, William.” Alianor raised her chin a notch. He admired the way her hair glistened like the silvery lake in the sunshine, reflecting deep blue hues from the waters of the lough. He liked the view enough to not even feel the slightest tic of irritation at her using the forbidden name again.
Instead he struggled to keep a straight face, while the hardness between his legs betrayed him. “And pray tell, Madame, what direction you suspect my thoughts have turned?”
The blush rising from her neck to stain her cheeks told Liam she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. At his steady approach to the water’s edge, she turned away from his bold gaze and folded her arms. He pulled off his boots and threw them aside, and slogged through the cool water until he reached her. His hand gently cupped her chin and turned her head so she looked at him. She worried her bottom lip, a look of dismay sketched upon her beautiful features.
“What is it, Alianor? Has my intrusion into your privacy upset you?” he asked, remembering her happiness and their shared mirth only moments before. Her brow furrowed.
“No, you do not intrude. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. I don’t mind sharing it.”
“Good,” he said, letting more questions go as he glanced around at the lake. Pockets of mist already formed here and there, drifting across the glassy surface as the sun started its descent in the sky. “’Tis one of my favorite places.”
He grinned then shrugged off his dark blue tunic, and tossed it onto the shore. His trews followed, and Alianor gasped with surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Why, going for a swim, of course.”
“A swim? At this late hour?”
Liam winked at her. “Aye. Won’t you join me, sailchuach liath?”
He reached out to take her hand when she did not offer it. “I think not,” Alianor muttered, shaking her head. She pulled free and waded back towards the shore.
He followed, calling after her, “It will feel good, refreshing. Trust me, no one is about to see us.”
Alianor shook her head no, but he grabbed her by the wrist before she could retreat further. “Why not?” he persisted. There was emotion in her eyes he could not define, but he suspected it bordered on fear.
“I don’t know how to swim,” Alianor confessed. “Is that a good enough reason?”
The possibility hadn’t occurred to him. Relieved it was a simple thing, he offered, “I’ll teach you, Alianor. There’s nothing to fear.”
Alianor tossed her head and looked him straight in the eye. “I am not afraid.” In truth, she lied. She was terrified.
“We Irish are born to the water. Those raised in fishing communities sometimes learn to swim before they can walk. Come,” Liam coaxed her, “I will teach you.”
Alianor herself couldn’t understand her dread of going deeper into the lake. It was calm in the early evening, still as a looking glass mirror. Yet the nagging fear persisted. What made her so afraid? She hated feeling like a frightened ninny about anything. Despite the apprehension, rapidly rising in waves to choke her, she took Liam’s outstretched hand.
He pulled her to him, his strong arms holding her close. Droplets of water sparkled on his dark hair, clung to his eyelashes above those laughing deep green eyes. She looked into those eyes, trusting him. Bit by bit, Liam swam out into the deep, clear water, while Alianor drifted along with him.
“Relax,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll not let you go.” Liam cradled her head in his hands, lowering her back into the cool water. “Let your body float, and it will happen naturally, without thought.”
His deep voice was soft, caressing, instructing her in each movement. Alianor relaxed under his tutelage, knowing he would keep her safe. She drifted on top of the water, her mind distracted by the serenity and beauty of the lake.
“Good,” he praised her. “Now turn over. Use your feet and hands to tread the water and you’ll not sink.”
Alianor took a deep breath and rolled over. Her head went under and a shock of terror gripped her. Flashes of images attacked her as the water stole the air, the light, her world from her. She choked and struggled against the icy intruder in her lungs, and flailed wildly. Suddenly, the lake rose up to drag her under into its maw.
Liam yanked her up from the water and she clung to him, sobbing, her legs instinctively wrapping about his waist. Her arms clutched his neck, nearly choking him as well. She shuddered and wept with a mixture of fear, shame and frustration.
“Ssh, ssh, ’tis all right, a rùin, my love,” Liam talked to her in a soft voice, soothing her. “I won’t let you go, I promise.”
His hands ran down the length of her wet hair, stroking, petting. As the fear subsided, another urgency claimed Alianor. She sought his lips, blindly, hungrily, licking the droplets of water clinging to the corners of his mouth. She kissed him, deeply, emotionally, pretending it need never end. She needed to imagine this as clearly as she felt the consuming fire in her belly, the sweet and pounding urgency of her emotions. Her lips grazed his earlobe, her whisper husky with want. She said simply, “Love me, Liam.”
His grip tightened on her. “You called me Liam,” he said, emotion cracking his voice.
She playfully tugged on the damp ends of his hair. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
He nodded. There was a flash of something in his eyes, a stricken emotion she couldn’t define and was afraid to ask about. The moment passed, and Liam swam with her back to the shoreline, where he lifted her in his arms from the water and waded to shore.
“Aye, I intend to love you, sweet Alianor, so well and so thoroughly, you’ll never forget my name again.”
“Oh, really,” she challenged him, the thought of it making her weak with desire. She framed his face in her hands and kissed him
again, his playful growl and her soft laughter echoing across the misty lake as they tumbled together to the deep green grass of the shore.
Liam’s demanding kiss confirmed his intent, his ardent caresses making her shiver with passion again and again. Night fell upon them, like a gentle cloak settling down upon them from the sky. The moon rose and painted their flesh with silvery light as they held one another, stroked one another. The lovers coupled beneath the ancient stars in the ancient place, their urgency driving them in an unknown desperation.
When at last they were sated, Alianor curled by his side, her fingers tracing invisible figures on Liam’s chest. She lay warm and content, despite the cool night, for his arms kept the chill at bay. Hoping he would flash his endearing grin, she drew spirals across his bare skin with her fingertip, but he remained oddly silent.
Assuming he had fallen asleep, she propped herself up on an elbow to study his face. Alianor found his eyes open and staring at the heavens above. He would not look at her.
A premonition of dread swept over her. “What is it?” she whispered. “What is so wrong you will not even look at me?”
He did not answer her, but she knew. Alianor buried her face against his neck, and felt the dampness there. The tears running down his face soon blended with her own. “Tonight’s our last in company,” she murmured in despair.
Neither spoke again. On this, their last night together, their final fierce union was bittersweet, tinged with desperation; each felt unable to face what they knew they must when dawn’s light touched the eastern sky.
IN EARLY DAWN, SHADOWS still cloaked the mountains. Alianor and Niall and the rest of the men were already mounted, waiting for Liam to join them.
Garbed in her drabbest gown and wearing one of Liam’s black cloaks, Alianor’s attire reflected her mood. She accepted her fate, but she was not pleased with it. Her future had long since been decided by other players; it was hard not to feel resentment.
It frustrated her she had no choice, no say in her own life. It was not unusual in most women’s experiences, but Alianor did not consider herself to be an ordinary woman. The taste of freedom Walter had permitted her only whetted her appetite for more. Learning, growing, challenging herself seemed a worthy goal, rather than meek acceptance and a plodding life of dreary domesticity. Now, even a drudge’s life seemed preferable to the life she faced with de Lacy. The man must be a villain indeed to have a worse reputation than the King, though she found it difficult to believe anyone was cut of coarser cloth.
Once she had rejected the King, it became clear he wanted her to suffer for her defiance. A good marriage might be regarded as a reward, a sign of royal favor, but this one he intended to be hell. In the King’s eyes, Le Anguille was the perfect punishment, a man whose cruelty exceeded his own. Today, she must confront this new villain face-to-face. Oh Nora, be brave, she chided herself, trying not to succumb to fear.
She had the advantage of surprise. De Lacy had no idea of what he was getting himself into when he petitioned for her hand in marriage. He selected her based on appearance alone, a man as shallow as his lusts. No choice had been given to her, but she’d damme well make de Lacy regret his part in this farce.
Liam rode up on Biorra, leading another pack mare with her remaining personal belongings secured in large saddlebags. All but one. Her most precious possession would stay behind.
“Alianor.” Liam halted Biorra beside her mount. His face mirrored the seriousness they both felt. “Are you sure you will not take Goliath?”
She shook her head. “It would be cruel to subject him to more punishing trips. Here he can fly free and be spoiled and cosseted by those he loves best.” At his arched eyebrow, she added, “Aye, he’s taken to you, Liam. Another heart surrendered to your charm.”
He heard the tinge of bitterness in her voice and replied with mock gruffness, “Well, I suppose it’s only fair you give me Goliath’s heart in exchange for stealing Biorra’s and Turrean’s.”
She almost smiled. His attempt to lighten the mood failed. “Alianor …” he began again but seemed not to know what to say. He gestured helplessly.
Still holding onto the anger she mustered moments before, Alianor bristled. “God’s blood,” she snapped, preferring the clean honesty of rage to the tender feelings threatening to break her down. “Let’s not linger overlong. You’ve a task to do today, Liam. You cannot disappoint your people.”
Niall looked surprised at her outburst and Liam looked — no, she must be mistaken — he could not be hurt by her calling a spade a spade. Liam had seen her softer side but by heavens, he was going to see the steely one today. No more tears. No regrets. Their parting would be easier if she did not cling to hope — or him.
His intense green eyes sought hers. “I don’t know if I can do it,” he said, more to himself than anyone. His hands upon the saddle pommel clenched white.
“A little late for regrets, don’t you think? You can and you will do it.” Avoiding his gaze, Alianor refused to give way to the emotion undermining her composure. “My fate was sealed the second you took me. Besides, there’s more to all this than even you know. I’ve something at stake as well.”
Confusion marked Liam’s expression but he stayed silent, still stinging from her words.
“What do you mean, colleen?” Niall asked on his behalf.
“If I don’t marry de Lacy, the King will destroy my brother. So you see, my fate really has precious little to do with either of you. Therefore your consciences need not bother you. If you can wrest good for your people out of my dismal circumstances, by all means, you must do so.”
Neither man moved. A cool breeze rushed through the glade, stirring the trees, and an oak leaf fluttered down and clung to Alianor’s hair. She brushed it off, and drew the hood of her cloak over her head with a swift yanking movement.
She heard a soft whine, and glanced down to see Turrean looking up at her with mournful golden-brown eyes. A faint smile finally touched her lips, but her voice shook when she spoke. “I’m sorry, girl, you can’t come. You must stay here.”
The wolfhound sat on her haunches, her gaze no less plaintive. Liam said sharply to the dog, “Go on, Turrean. Go back.” With a baleful glance at her master, Turrean rose and slunk off. Her lowered head reflected the prevailing mood in the clearing.
“We’ll be late if we continue to dawdle,” Alianor said.
Liam lapsed back into a stricken silence and it was Niall who leaned over from his saddle and handed a blindfold to Alianor. “I’m sorry, milady,” he said. “We cannot let you see the way from the camp. ’Tis our law.”
Alianor nodded. “Thank you for at least trusting me enough to secure it myself, Niall.” She traded the horse’s reins for the blindfold and tied the soft cloth around her head. The men nudged their horses into a canter, and Alianor gripped the saddle pommel to keep her seat.
Damme Liam, she fumed. Why had he said anything? I don’t know if I can do it. Part of her felt a surge of joy upon hearing his words — he couldn’t do it, couldn’t hand her over to de Lacy. Yet, part of her was angry, for she couldn’t let him back down. Not when Camber’s life was at stake.
Her throat ached, the emotion caught there threatened to make her choke. Liam wasn’t in the same league as de Lacy and the King. They were the real murderers, cruelty and bloodlust simply part of their natures. While in the end, Liam was finding it difficult to trade her for ransom, even for the sake of his people. He was a tender-hearted, Irish knave. No wonder she loved him so.
It was a startling revelation; she did love him, with all her heart and soul. Despite this, she knew she must not allow her feelings to cloud her judgment. There would be no point in telling him where her heart lay and she dared not permit these misplaced affections to risk her brother’s life. Simply put, there was too much at stake for Liam and her to love one another. Perhaps in the next life, but in this one at least, it could never be.
FROM THE EDGE OF the woods, Niall eyed the lone
horseman awaiting them upon a wind-scoured ridge overlooking the sea. “I don’t like this,” he said, his posture tense, his voice on edge.
“Aye, I’m certain he has men hidden about.” Liam’s gaze flicked across the hilltops, drawn by a silvery glint. Armor. “De Lacy’s as honest as I expected.” He chuckled. “But so are we, eh, uncle?”
Niall did not laugh. His voice was low and urgent. “Liam, I have a bad feeling about this. Let’s leave. Now.”
“Quit stewing, Niall. Our men will guard our backs as they always do. We must take the risk — the ransom is too important.” He looked over his shoulder and gave Torin the signal to position the men along the tree line, keeping to the shadows until needed.
Niall frowned but nodded. Liam understood his uncle’s concerns, but he could do nothing about their predicament. They had come a long way and he’d not change his mind. It was already near evening tide, past the time they had arranged to meet.
“You knew a man like de Lacy would not keep his word about coming alone,” Alianor said, sounding angry. The blindfold had been removed and her blue eyes snapped sparks at Liam.
“I’d be more surprised if he had.”
“You two wait here,” she offered. “I’ll ride up alone and bring back the ransom to you. It’s me he wants. Not you.”
Liam shook his head. “I gave my word to escort you here and turn you over safely, and I’ll keep it.”
“Don’t be a fool, Liam. Is your chivalrous word worth dying over?”
“Don’t be dramatic. You forget I’ve a dozen men at my back.”
“Yes, but what if he has two dozen over those hills?”
“I’d say the odds were still in our favor. We know these woods and he does not.”
“Why can you not be serious about the danger?” she asked, her face showing her frustration and fear.
