The Highlander's Secret Vow

by Eliza Knight

  Liam laughed. “Tempting, aye. But I’m afraid I’ll be keeping ye around a wee bit longer.”

  “I’ll not tell you a damn thing.”

  “Your choice. But one I think we both know will be changing soon.”

  “You might as well get on with killing me. I swear I’ll keep my mouth shut. You’ll wish you’d killed me in England.”

  “As much as I’d love to run ye through with my sword, and, aye, I do regret not being able to kill ye just yet. I’ll be keeping ye alive at least another day.” Liam stood, awkwardly tilted his head to the side and climbed the narrow stairs, disappointed he’d not been able to get much out of the man. However, he’d purposefully left the gag out of his mouth, hoping that Ughtred would see that as a mercy and give him something in return.

  Such tactics did not always work, but Liam was willing to try just about anything. If none of his other tricks worked, he’d have to resort to a beating, which would be a hell of a lot of fun. At that thought, he paused mid-way up the stairs, tempted by the idea of leaving Ughtred with a few bruises now. Alas, he shook his head and continued up the narrow cellar stairs. A man who was beaten sometimes let slip untruths, if only to have the pain stop, and Liam didn’t need untruths. He needed to know why the bloody hell his wife was whispering about Ughtred to her mother. Why Ughtred had chosen her castle to sack.

  What were the clever wenches hiding?

  What was the bastard hiding?

  At the top of the stairs, Liam slowly shut the cellar door. The rusted hinges creaked loudly and ominously as he cut out the light from below where Ughtred squirmed.

  Perhaps it was time to have another conversation with his darling, traitorous wife.

  Chapter 7

  “Let me see your hands.”

  Cora held her hands close to her chest, not wanting her mother to unwrap the bandages for fear of the pain, and because she didn’t want to see what damage had been done to her fingers. Feeling the damage was enough.

  She’d seen bad burns before from accidents in the kitchens, fires in the village, and even men who’d come home from war, their wounds cauterized to close them up. Some healed, and some didn’t. And oh, how her heart ached at the scars that were left. From the way it felt, she would undoubtedly bear the scars of her burns for the rest of her days. And she’d be lucky to have use of her hands at all.

  Lady Segrave held out her hands, palms up, an unsettled expression on her face, perhaps because of her request to see her daughter’s horrific wounds.

  Cora shook her head. “Not now, Mother. They’ve only just redone my bandages, and I don’t want the healer’s work to have been all for naught.” That was only a partial truth. She wasn’t certain when her bandages had been changed, but they were clean and still tightly bound, which led her to believe it hadn’t been that long ago.

  Her mother gave up easily, pursing her lips and shrugging. “Very well then.” Perhaps a part of her mother hadn’t actually wanted to see the wounds, and Cora couldn’t blame her. It was hard enough for her mother to come to terms that her husband had been murdered and her home burned to the ground. She must be in turmoil over the safety of her sons as well.

  A noise caught them both off-guard, and their gazes moved to the door.

  The handle shifted and one of Liam’s warriors came inside with a tray of food. “Your supper, my ladies.”

  “Thank you,” her mother answered. “You need not have brought it yourself, sir. A servant would have done just as well.”

  “Sutherland’s orders.” Sir Tad’s face was void of expression, which only made Cora more curious about his thoughts.

  Her mother’s lips pursed once more with distaste. She was not used to being told what to do—unless, of course, it was by her husband.

  Cora stared at him, watched as he placed the tray on the table between them. Sir Tad was older than Liam, she would guess by perhaps ten years or more. His skin was weathered and darkened from the sun, and there were a few streaks of gray in his ginger hair and beard. But despite his age, he was still in good form. Not quite as tall as Liam, but muscles bulged beneath his shirt and trews. Did he have a wife at home? Children?

  “Thank you,” Cora murmured when she realized her mother had no inclination to thank him for his service.

  “My lady.” He nodded, taking a moment to pour them each a cup of wine from the jug.

  When he was finished, he lingered a moment before retreating slowly toward the door. Was he attempting to eavesdrop? What had he heard already?

  She felt the color drain from her face and ducked her head to hide the evidence as she recalled the mostly quiet conversation she’d been having with her mother. But that was well before now, and she determined he must not have heard that part, but was instead merely a nosy soldier, bored with his task of standing watch outside their door and serving them meals. As soon as the door clicked closed, her mother lifted one of the wooden cups and took a large gulp. Cora would have very much liked to do the same thing, but the bandages prevented her from being able to raise the cup herself.

  “Are you not going to have any?” Lady Segrave said, then within seconds realized the error of her comment. “Oh, dear heavens me. How could I have forgotten so quickly?”

  Moving so quickly Cora thought she might actually spill the contents of the wine all over the chamber, her mother held the smooth wooden cup to Cora’s lips.

  The wood was cool, the wine lukewarm and slightly sour.

  “Tell me when you’ve had enough.”

  Cora sipped, then nodded for her mother to take the cup. The wine wound its way toward her belly, warming her despite its less than stellar flavor. Her mother sat down and took another rather long sip of her own wine, her gaze toward the small covered window.

  “My nerves,” her mother mumbled, sipped again and then poured herself another glass. “Can I feed you something, my dear?”

  “I’m not really hungry.” That was true. If anything, she felt a bit more like retching than anything else.

  “But it’s been days since you had anything to eat. You look wretched and pale. How about just a few bites?”

  Cora nodded, and her mother dipped a piece of bread into the stew and popped it into Cora’s mouth. The piece was a bit too large, and she worked it around her mouth, attempting to swallow when it felt like there was no room in her body. She finally swallowed and shook her head when her mother offered her another bite.

  “Another sip of wine?”

  “Nay, I think I’d rather rest.” Her stomach was all twisted up into knots, and she was certain that Sir Tad had been acting strangely. They’d spoken of their intruder, and Cora had told her mother how he’d been searching for something. Cora could tell her mother had an idea of what Ughtred had been searching for, but she didn’t tell Cora. And that was just as well, because if she did know, she’d be at risk of spilling whatever secret it was.

  Liam was her husband, and despite his distrust of her, she was theoretically obligated to tell him the truth. Beyond duties of marriage, it was the least she could do, considering he had saved her life, not once, but twice now. How was she ever to repay the favor, if not by telling him the secret?

  Maybe she should ask her mother what it was her father had been hiding that was so important a madman would go to such lengths to gain it. Whatever it was had to have been destroyed in the fire, along with her father’s body… She drew in a trembling breath at the thought of her sire.

  Her gaze was drawn to the door, wondering who lingered beyond. Where was Liam? Why had he not brought their supper?

  “How are you…doing?” she asked her mother, sliding her gaze to stare across the table.

  The lady sat back heavily in her chair, wine cup not far from her lips, the food untouched by either of them. “I am alive.” Her mother’s voice was quiet.

  Cora let out a short laugh, feeling none of the humor the abrupt reaction might hint at. “I suppose that is as good an answer as any. We are both alive.”


  Her mother’s shoulders sagged. “I’ve lost nearly everything. Your father, our castle, likely our lands, and his… Well, never mind that.”

  If she had to guess, her mother had been about to say what the secret object was. A jewel? A relic? A treaty? Her mother’s eyes grew misty before she lowered them to take another long sip of her wine.

  Cora sat forward, her elbows on the table. “There is something you should know, Mother.”

  “What is it?” Her mother’s eyes met hers, locking in place.

  Before this night was through, she needed to confess to her mother what her relationship was to Liam.

  The door swung wide, hitting the wall, and a large frame took up the expanse, blocking their view of the corridor. Liam had chosen that moment to reappear within her chamber. There was a gleam in his too-green eyes as his gaze swept her from head to toe, taking measure and hiding whatever it was he thought of such scrutiny. All the same, she suppressed a shiver, clamped her mouth closed and found herself once more pulling her hands in toward her heart. How could he make her feel so many things all at once?

  The man had the power to shake her to her very core with a tumult of emotions. She was scared, aye, but she was also intensely curious, overwhelmed and something more. Something hotter that seemed to take root deep inside of her. A sense of something she couldn’t understand lingered, waiting to ignite. What she did know was that Liam was the only man to have ever elicited such feelings, even when she was a lass. Almost as if she had the urge to leap into his arms and kiss him. But that was quite absurd, wasn’t it?

  “What are ye two whispering about like a pair of thieves?”

  Lady Segrave drew in a shocked and outraged gasp. Before she could respond with a blistering to his ears, Cora stepped in, wishing she’d had the chance to tell her mother just who Liam was to her, but grateful at the same time she’d not been able to quite yet. That kind of news was the last thing her mother needed right now.

  Cora pinned him with what she hoped was a blistering stare. He seemed not to take much notice. “Sir, we take offense at your insinuation. Neither of us are thieves, and I still stand by my earlier statement that I’m not a liar.”

  “He called you a liar?” her mother said, clearly astonished, hand covering her mouth, cheeks turning pink.

  Liam swept into a mocking bow. “Heavens,” he muttered with such derision Cora gasped. “I seem to have insulted the wee princess.”

  “And yet you continue to do so with no remorse,” Cora replied haughtily, the pain in her hands forgotten. Was it to be that every time they saw each other, they broke out into a shouting match?

  Cora stood from her chair so forcefully, it teetered behind her.

  Liam grinned a lopsided grin, the gleam in his eye turning to interest. It would appear he wanted a fight. Well, she was ready to give it to him.

  “Perhaps we should ask your mother to give us a moment of privacy. Nae need for her to witness a display of humble marital domesticity.”

  Cora paled, her mouth fell open, and she feared glancing back at her mother. How could he so easily let it slip that they were wed?

  “What on earth could you mean by that?” Lady Segrave, too, stood, though her chair did not teeter, and she did not come any closer, so she stood just out of eyesight of Cora. “I think you should leave, sir. My daughter needs to rest.”

  Liam did not take his eyes from Cora as he said, “Ye’re right, my lady, my wife does need to rest.”

  Cora didn’t breathe. And judging from the gasps from her mother, she need not have bothered, as the lady was sucking all the air from the room. Or was that Liam? His easy admittance took the breath from her. Quite literally.

  “That’s absurd.” Having advanced without Cora hearing it, her mother squeezed the back of her arm, not quite a pinch, but bordering on it. “Did you take advantage of my daughter while she was in her sickbed?”

  “Nay.” Liam didn’t expound on the truth of the matter. Didn’t bother to explain that it had been many years since they’d exchanged their vows.

  “Then when could you possibly have married her? This is quite enough now. We’ve been through more than anyone should have to in such a short time. I say kindly move on your way, and we shall appeal to our friends to take us in.”

  This time, Liam did glance toward her mother, his jaw set rigidly. “Cora is not going anywhere, and I’m afraid neither are ye.”

  “You do not have permission to use her Christian name.”

  Liam rolled his eyes toward Cora. “This is becoming exhausting. Tell her.”

  Cora swallowed. She’d never forgive him for this humiliation. Just when she’d been about to confess in a calm and reasonable manner, he’d come crashing through the door like some great brute. Had he done it on purpose? Had he been listening? Or was he merely growing more and more suspicious?

  Her mother’s hard stare was burning a hole through the side of her face. Slowly, Cora turned away from Liam and faced her mother.

  “It was a long time ago,” Cora started and stopped, trying to find the right words. She could still hear what he’d said to her all those years ago when she’d asked him why he was saving her if they were supposed to be enemies. “I’ve not met ye a day in my life, fair lassie, so I assure ye, we canna be enemies.” When he’d said it, so sweet, so gallant, it had seemed so right. So perfect. Now, the way he stood, drawing lines in the proverbial dirt, she felt she’d married a stranger.

  Cora had started to fall in love with him all those years ago, remembering over and over every romantic and chivalrous word. Where had that lad gone? When had he been replaced with this oversized ogre?

  Cora cleared her throat, wishing she could grab her hands in front of her waist and pinch and twine her fingers together. “When ye and da went to visit the king, and I was left at home. There was a raid.”

  “Do not tell me you’ve been married since then… You were nothing but a girl. Practically a babe!”

  Cora nodded. “He saved me, Mother.”

  “Only to abuse you!” Lady Segrave turned, red-faced on Liam, but Cora stepped in front of him before her mother could slap him, taking the brunt of the hit.

  Lady Segrave shouted, and Liam caught Cora from behind when she teetered on her feet.

  “Good God! Look what you’ve done!” her mother shouted.

  “What I have done, madam?” Liam’s tone was full of accusation.

  “Please, both of you, stop.” Cora’s cheek stung, but at least it was the side that was not already bruised from her fall in the dungeon. She tugged herself from Liam’s arms, feeling the loss of his touch in a way that was indescribable and absurd.

  It was hard to make sense of what was happening. How out of control this whole situation seemed. Lady Segrave had a backbone forged from iron, and she wasn’t in the least afraid to use it.

  The iron will Cora had wielded since birth had most definitely come from her mother—though she tried to be gentler, kinder.

  Shock and despair registered on her mother’s face—a change that jolted Cora.

  “I’m so sorry to have hurt you, my darling.” Her mother grabbed hold of Cora and pulled her into her arms, holding her tight in an embrace that felt genuine. “I know you do not see this as his fault, but it is.”

  Cora pulled herself from her mother’s embrace, resigned to her mother not taking responsibility, and yet feeling the need to explain all the same. “Mother, please,” Cora said in hushed tones. “It is no one’s fault, and it is already forgotten. I know this news upsets you. Sir Liam was the one who saved me and took me to the abbey.”

  Her mother’s mouth was still popped open as though it were stuck there. Outrage etched every line of her face, and Cora was certain her mother was searching for just the right words to argue with her about it.

  “It cannot be changed,” Cora said. “We are wedded.”

  She glanced toward Liam, who stood strangely silent, arms clasped behind his back, attention on them both
. So willing he’d been to spill her secrets a moment before, and now as still as a marble statue.

  “I was trying to find a way to tell you before my husband so eagerly shared the news with you.” Cora was trying to find a polite way to say that he’d barged through the door and shattered the truth onto her mother’s head like the clay pot Cora had once flung across her room when her father told her she could no longer ride after she’d disobeyed him and taken his new gelding out for a ride across the hills. Cora glanced behind her, fixing Liam for a moment with a stare she usually reserved for her younger brothers.

  Liam’s lip twitched into almost a smile, or a grimace, she wasn’t certain, but he had to have understood her meaning perfectly.

  “I’m certain he did not mean to upset you, Mother—only he is eager for us to finally live as man and wife.” Cora wasn’t certain that was the truth of it at all, but she was going to force it on him. Besides, he’d practically alluded to that earlier. Either he would say aye, and her misery would begin, for he was not the prince charming she’d fantasized about all these years, or he would deny her now and grant her an annulment, which was completely legal given they’d never consummated their vows.

  She should want the latter. But why did the idea of never seeing Liam again leave her feeling such a great amount of loss? Absurd…

  “I will not have it,” her mother said, shaking her head so violently her graying blond locks came free of the knot she’d put them in at the base of her neck.

  Before Cora could argue with her mother, Liam broke in. “My lady, I do apologize for having startled ye, but I’m afraid there is nothing to be done for it. Cora is my wife, and I’ll not be letting her go this time.”

  Chapter 8

  Liam should have every intention of parting ways with Cora Segrave once and for all. For over a decade, there’d been plenty of opportunities for him to have his priest draw up papers for an annulment. And there was even more of an opportunity now to deny her. Vows uttered by children, for that was what they’d been, even if they’d been old enough to exchange vows in the eyes of the church.