Connie C. Scharon - Highland Legends 02

by Phantom Bride

  "Then why are you here?" Liam asked. "You were certainly not invited."

  Claire ignored his question. "Is she so young and beautiful you cast aside my generous offer? All these years I forgave you for your indifference because of Sarah. I was sure you'd never marry, but now…. You've shamed me. I'm a laughing stock at court."

  "Claire, I never gave you any encouragement. I was very clear from the beginning."

  The carriage pulled up in front of the main entrance to Dunsmore Heath. The door was open and Liam could see Malcolm and Devon waiting just inside the hall. Claire sniffed and stared out the window at them. She turned back to Liam. "Your wife?" she asked. He nodded. "What is that ridiculous veil she wears over her face?"

  "Devon was scarred in the fire that killed her first husband. I will expect you not to mention it or hurt her feelings in any way," Liam directed, giving Claire a cold stare.

  A small smile curled the edges of her pouting lips. "You love her," she whispered. "Poor dear, falling for a wretched monster when you could have had me."

  Liam's face flashed with anger as he pushed past her and alighted from the coach. Seeing Malcolm's expression, he turned and helped Claire down. She pretended to stumble and took her time recovering, so she lingered pressed hard against his chest.

  Liam almost burst out laughing. Claire was trying to make Devon jealous. If only she knew how many times Devon had offered to find him a whore to share his bed. Looping her arm through his, Claire walked into Dunsmore Heath to greet Malcolm and Devon.

  "Well, my dear, 'tis a pleasure to meet the woman who could finally capture Liam's heart," Claire said to Devon. "Miracles will never cease, I was sure he would never marry." She brushed her hand lightly over Devon's veiled head. "But then, Liam did always have a weakness for pitiful creatures. He told me about your terrible accident. I hope the scars are not too awful."

  Liam's fingers bit into Claire's arm warning her to stop her assault. Ignoring his silent threat, she turned and smiled up into his face. "I'm so sorry, dear. I know you told me not to mention it, but this way Devon will not feel the need to try to explain her unusual outfit herself."

  "If you care to stay under my roof, you'll cease this attack on my wife at once!"

  He felt Devon's hand on his arm. "Liam, it's all right," Devon said calmly. "I'm used to people commenting on my veil, and I thank you for explaining it for me." She turned her head in Claire's direction. "Liam is the kindest man I've ever known. He always thinks of my feelings, but I'm sure he misinterprets your greeting. I know you'd never intentionally cause anyone hurt, Duchess."

  A burst of pride washed over Liam at his wife's handling of the infamous Duchess of Rothbury. He was sure Claire was being as hurtful as she could, but Devon was holding up well under the attack and he respected her for it.

  Shaking loose from Claire's grip, he drew Devon into his arms lifting her veil enough to bestow a short, sweet kiss on her tender lips. Did he imagine her response? His mind was such a muddle after last night. He wanted to drag her off to their bedroom and tell her it didn't matter what her reasons were. If she would come to him, he would love her until he forced her to love him back. For now, he had to entertain the clinging Duchess of Rothbury.

  Seeing Claire's eyes go green with jealousy, Liam lingered longer holding Devon close. "You'll have to forgive us," he explained. "We're still newlyweds.”

  Claire let out a choking groan and spun around to follow Malcolm into the great hall. As they disappeared, Devon's musical laughter lilted from beneath her veiled head. "I'm glad father forewarned me about the Duchess. She certainly is unpleasant." Devon started to go after them, but Liam pulled her back to him.

  "I want to apologize for last night," he began. "I want you so badly, it hurt to know you only saw me as an obligation. But I've given it considerable thought, and I…."

  "Shh," Devon interrupted. "We can speak of this later. Now we must go save father from our guest. I'm glad you're no longer angry with me."

  Devon studied his expression trying to determine what he was thinking. When Claire had fallen against Liam getting out of the coach, it had taken all her will power to keep from grasping the woman by the hair and jerking her out of Liam's arms. She didn't understand the feelings coursing through her right now, nor did she know how to handle them. All she knew was she wanted the Duchess of Rothbury to see Liam as a happily married man.

  "Devon, you confuse me," Liam murmured. She leaned close to him and stood on her toes to find his lips once again. It was instinctual and her action seemed to set her husband ablaze with desire. He lifted her easily into his arms, engulfing her being in the intensity of his kiss.

  Fire spread through her loins, igniting the spark that had sent her over the edge that morning not so long ago. How could this be? They were fully clothed.

  A distinct "Harrumph" drew them apart. Devon turned to stare at the Duchess, who wore an expression of barely contained rage. "Perhaps I should withdraw and allow you to rut right here on the floor of the entrance hall," Claire snapped.

  Liam leaned lazily against the doorjamb letting Devon's body slide slowly down his until her feet slipped back to the floor. "Excuse us, Duchess. We had not intended to be so rude."

  Devon stared at the woman breathless and wide-eyed from the rush of feeling still burning through her body. Luckily, her veil hid the extent of her arousal. Her heart pounded as if it might burst from her chest. She was trying hard to gather her wits, but all rational thought left her mind. Her husband's heated kiss made her speechless.

  Claire spun on her heel and stomped back toward the gathering room. Liam steadied Devon on her feet.

  "Are you all right, love?" he questioned.

  Devon pulled back and straightened her dress. She put her arm through his and began walking toward the great hall. "I think I'm starting to understand your disappointment the other night," she confided quietly. "I shall pray that the fire I feel right now will be kindled the next time we are together as husband and wife."

  Liam’s breath grew short from her frank disclosure. She had just admitted to him that he had stirred her passions. His heart raced at her acknowledgement.

  They entered the hall hand in hand. The Duchess of Rothbury and her entourage filled the room to overflowing. Servants busily brought forth platters of roast lamb and boiled turnips. The Meade flowed as the party got underway.

  Liam leaned down and whispered in his wife's ear when her duties as hostess threatened to take her from his side. "I love you, Devon," he said softly.

  She turned to him and he could have sworn he saw a smile through the netting obscuring her face, but then she was gone, leaving him so she could see to her guests.

  As Laird of Dunsmore Heath, it was necessary for Liam to sit at the head table with Malcolm, Lord Wycliff, Bryce Forbes, Nigel, and Claire Hartgrove. Devon was to sit next to Liam, but she had yet to return from instructing the servants.

  Claire sat studying the table of clansmen who sat near them. "Liam darling, who is the magnificent, blond beast over there?" Her slender finger pointed at Garyth, who was staring agog at the Duchess.

  "Garyth," Liam called, "Please come and meet the Duchess of Rothbury." Garyth sprang to his feet and bowed low before Claire.

  "I am enchanted by your beauty," Garyth said smoothly.

  Claire reached over and ran her hand down Garyth's bicep. "You are an admirable specimen yourself," she said, fluttering her eyelashes. "Won't you join us at the head table?"

  Liam grinned at the Duchess' games. She was so predictable. Garyth looked at his laird awaiting permission. "Sit," Liam said, motioning Garyth down between himself and Claire.

  Not satisfied with the seating arrangement, Claire stood and shifted over beside Liam, then patted the chair on the other side of her for Garyth. Garyth seemed bewildered by his good fortune. He sat mesmerized by the attention he was receiving from Claire Hartgrove.

  Devon walked back into the room, coming immediately to Liam's side. He s
tood and scooted another chair to the table, placing his wife on the other side of him so he could shield her from any attacks. Liam knew Claire was hoping he would be jealous she was making blatant advances toward one of his men. She was sadly mistaken. As far as Liam was concerned, Garyth and Claire deserved each other.

  The dinner that was set forth made Liam extremely proud of his wife and for awhile the conversation remained on an even keel. Then the subject of Liam and Devon's marriage came up.

  Malcolm was enjoying his Meade and thought he was bragging about Liam when he let slip something that got the Duchess' attention.

  "I'm happy the marriage has worked out so well, especially considering Liam married Devon sight unseen," Malcolm said cheerily.

  Claire turned and gaped wide-eyed at Liam. "Darling, you came here to marry Devon unaware that she was scarred from the fire?"

  "I told him before the ceremony," Devon cut in.

  "I'm truly puzzled at why someone who seemed so averse to marriage could have been persuaded to come so far, when greater wealth was offered closer by," the Duchess continued.

  "I didna marry Devon for her money and property," Liam retorted. "You are well aware those things have never tempted me." A rising blush colored Claire's cheeks at his referral to her proposal to him.

  "No, he married Lady Devon to save her from me," Bryce interjected. "He defeated me in the tournament to win her hand. By all rights, Devon and all her inheritance should have been mine. As it would have been my brother's had he lived."

  Claire looked flabbergasted by the revelation. "You fought for her?" she choked, unable to hide her rising ire. "I dinna know what treasure hides behind that veil, but it must really be something to push Sarah's memory from your mind."

  "I shall always remember Sarah," Liam replied.

  "Perhaps we were all wrong to feel sorry for you," the Duchess suggested. "If you prefer scarred bodies to the beauty that could have been yours, maybe Sarah took her own life to avoid your sick desires."

  Liam's eyes were dark with uncontained fury. "Enough! You are not good enough to speak Sarah's name," he admonished. "She wasn't afraid of me and neither is my lovely wife. Devon has a beauty which you shall always lack, a beauty of spirit that has escaped you because you fail to understand it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I've had all the dinner I can take." Liam rose from the table and stalked out of the hall with entire company staring after him.

  Devon started to rise to go after him.

  "Devon dear, perhaps you should leave him alone," Claire said in a voice sweet with false sympathy. "You know he's never been right since Sarah's death. She was the love of his life. He'll never love another the way he loved her. She betrayed him with his own brother, and then killed herself in fear of what he would do if he took her to the marriage bed and she was not a virgin."

  "Stop this horrid gossip!" Lord Wycliff shouted. "I swear, Duchess, you have an evil tongue. I believe you're jealous because he turned down your own overtures, or at least that's the story I heard."

  "You heard wrong," Claire insisted. "Liam wanted me, but I rejected his proposal. He had no title."

  Devon looked back and forth between her warring guests. "If you'll excuse me, I'm sure my father can continue as host. I have some things to attend to." She jumped up and hurried off in the direction Liam had taken.

  Devon wasn't sure what she intended to do when she found him, but she knew Claire's vicious remarks hurt him and that made her angry. Liam had given her comfort on more than one occasion and it was her turn to be there for him.

  She asked one of the servants which way Liam had gone. "He left the keep," the servant replied.

  Grabbing her cloak, she slipped into the chill, night air. A damp mist swirled around in the outer courtyard obscuring all but the most proximal objects. There was no one in sight. She tightened her wrap and went a little further. The wind whipped against her sending the cold right through to her bones.

  Rain began to fall in sheets as the sky opened up. Running for the nearest cover, she found shelter in the burned out section of the castle. She walked from the blackened tower back into the charred rooms that remained. There was a way back to the manse from this wing, but she didn't know if she had the courage to take it by herself. Just being inside of the place conjured up a flood of memories she would rather forget.

  A movement in the corner interrupted her thoughts. Liam stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her. She gave out a little shriek until she realized it was him, and then snuggled against his chest. He held her close nuzzling her veiled head.

  "Why are you here?" he whispered.

  "I came to find you," Devon blurted out. "That dreadful woman hurt you and I wanted to comfort you." She felt his whole body shake at her words. "Liam," she said softly. "Are you all right?"

  He took a deep breath. "I dinna know," he answered. "Maybe Claire is right, maybe Sarah's death is my fault." He paused, holding her shivering body to his. "Devon, you're all wet. We must get you out of these wet clothes before you catch your death. Is there a way into the castle from this burned out section?"

  "I'll show you on one condition," Devon said, pushing back from him. "When we retreat to the privacy of our chamber, you must tell me about Sarah. I want to know her full story so I can help you judge your part in all this."

  "You ask much. I've never discussed it fully with anyone, although Jared and Asilinn know much of it. Why do you want to know? Are you afraid of me because you think I had some hand in Sarah's death?"

  "I want to know because I see you torture yourself about it. If I knew the story, mayhaps I could help you put your mind at rest."

  "And if I knew the story of your marriage to Frazer Forbes, I could do the same," Liam reminded her.

  "I… I canna tell you yet. I drive it from my own mind on purpose. Maybe in time…."

  "Dinna take too long," he said softly. "I know from my own experience how dark secrets can fester in your heart."

  Devon reached up and touched his face. "You are a strong man in spite of it." She dropped her hand back to her side shivering from the damp clothes. "I guess we better hurry or I truly will freeze."

  Wrapping his arm around her, he led her further back into the charred timbers. "Which way?" Liam asked.

  Devon didn't say anything. She led him to a flight of stairs far back in the wing and began ascending. They walked rapidly side by side, but he noticed she jumped and skirted the far side of the hallway when they went by a certain door in the upper corridor.

  Finally, they came to a set of double doors. Grasping the doorknobs, Devon opened the doors. They stood at the far end of the portrait gallery. Feeling their way through the darkness, Liam opened the doors into the main hallway letting the light from the wall sconce filter into the room. He saw Devon glance furtively at her portraits, then lower her head and hurry from the room.

  When they reached the master's chamber, she immediately began to remove her wet clothing. He said nothing, but gently assisted her. She was down to her under shift. Liam fetched a heavy, velvet robe from the armoire and came over to her to help her peel off the vestiges of her damp covering. Her perfect body glimmered in the firelight as he wrapped the robe around her.

  "Devon, your veil is soaked," he said. "Shall I remove it?"

  "I'll be right back," she promised. She disappeared into her smaller chamber.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Liam was sitting by the fire warming up when she returned. He removed most of his own wet clothing and wore only a pair of tight-fitting britches. He looked up when she entered, his eyes sending fire through her as they caressed her body. She settled herself in the chair across from him, admiring the pure maleness of his form.

  After five minutes of silence, she elected to urge him on. "Liam, tell me Sarah's story."

  His eyes turned sad at the mention of his lost love. "Why Devon? Why do you wish to know?"

  "Last night when you rejected my offer to be in your bed, I felt disappoi
nted. Today when Claire purposely fell into your arms, I wanted to tear her limb from limb. I dinna understand what's happening to me, but I feel closer to you than I have ever felt to anyone."

  Liam got up and began to move toward her. She held up her hand for him to stop. He came over to her chair and dropped to his knees, resting an arm on either side of her slim body. She moved her hand to run through his thick, dark hair.

  "The way you make me feel frightens me," she confided. "And yet it comforts me as well. I'm confused and I want to understand you better. Mayhaps if you confide in me, in time, I could feel comfortable telling you about Frazer. Trust must begin somewhere."

  He gave her a weak smile. "If it means so much to you, I'll tell you." He paused and got a sad faraway look in his eyes. "I was madly in love with Sarah. She came to live at Dunbocan when she was nine. Jared and I, and my brother Morven fought constantly for her attention."

  "I didna know you had a brother."

  Liam's jaw tightened. "He's dead."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm not."

  The edge to his voice sent a shiver through Devon. She cleared her throat. "Please continue… about Sarah, I mean."

  Liam sighed. "I always thought Sarah would be Jared's wife. After all, Jared was to be laird, and I was just a cousin living off the charity of my richer relatives. As we grew older, Jared went to visit the English courts. He traveled extensively on the continent, enlarging his vision of the world."

  "Was Sarah betrothed to him when he left?"

  Liam shook his head and bowed his head, running his fingers through his hair. "No, but I still expected her to marry Jared." He looked up and his face softened into a smile. "Then one day Sarah came to me and taunted me for not expressing my true feelings for her. When I told her I loved her, she was joyful. It seems my assumption was incorrect. I was the one she wanted to marry."

  Liam's face lit with a warm glow when he spoke of Sarah. Devon could sense a deep tenderness in him. She studied his features in the firelight, realizing during his recounting she had placed her hands on his broad, bare shoulders. Her gaze fell to his massive, well-muscled chest. He was still on his knees before her chair, seemingly oblivious to the gentle caress of her hands. "Go on," she urged as his silent introspection lingered.