Page 4 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

By the time she was done, Liam could tell from her pale skin and the pained look in her eyes that she wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. He pressed his hand against her shoulder, urging her to sit back down on the bed while he carried her belongings down the stairs, and then, when he was finished, he offered her his arm to hold.

She didn’t refuse his assistance this time, and Liam led her to the horses. Once there, she looked at Liam’s wagon with disdain.

“That’s it?” she asked. Liam didn't know if she was more bothered by the lack of a roof or the fact that it was so small, and he wasn’t interested in asking either.

“Ye’re lucky I brought one,” he said. “I wanted to have just horses, but yer faither didnae want that. We’d be travellin’ faster on a horse.”

“And what would have happened to me things?” Muriel asked. “How would I take it all with me?”

“Not really me problem, lass,” Liam said with a shrug. Muriel’s only response was a glare and, once again, she refused any help from him as she climbed up into the wagon.

Liam tried to ignore Muriel as much as he could, despite the fact that she was huffing next to him and squirming in her seat whenever they hit a bump on the road. He wanted to point out that none of it was enjoyable for him either and that the last thing he wanted to be doing was spend time with someone as unpleasant as her, but he said nothing. He couldn’t have her complaining to her father about how unkind he was.

“So… what are ye?” Muriel said after several hours spent in silence. “A mercenary?”

“Aye, somethin’ like that,” Liam said.

“Do people hire ye often to move brides like they’re cattle?”

Ach . . . so that’s what it is.

Liam couldn’t imagine how Muriel — or any young woman in her position, in fact — felt about this arranged marriage. If he were in her place, he would be livid at being promised to someone against his will. He briefly wondered if that was one of the reasons she was so irritable, but none of it was his problem.

“I must admit that ye’re the first bride I was hired to protect,” Liam said; choosing his words carefully. “Ye’re nae cattle, Miss MacNeil. I’m nae takin’ ye to a pen. I’m takin’ ye to yer future husband. Yer new home.”

“I may as weel be cattle,” Muriel said and her tone was so pained it made Liam’s heart ache for her. “What’s the difference? Me faither doesna care what I think; all he wants is to sell me to the highest bidder.”

“Ye should be more kind to yer faither,” Liam said. “The Macleod clan is a verra wealthy clan. Ye’ll have a verra comfortable life there.”

“Aye, wealthy enough for me faither to do anythin’ for that wealth.”

Muriel's tone was laced with bitterness, which startled Liam and made him think he wouldn't want it directed at him at any given point in time. Muriel, as stubborn as she appeared to be, gave him the impression that she was not the type of woman with whom he would want to argue. Liam did not argue with those who were bullheaded for all it did was irritate him.

“I dinnae ken what ye wish for me to say,” Liam said. “I am only here to do what I was paid to do. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

“So ye dinnae care what I think about this marriage?”

“Why would I?” he asked. “I have nae say in it. I dinnae even ken ye, so why should I care? Ye’re just what I was asked to transport.”

Liam realized he'd made a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. He had told Muriel that she wasn’t cattle only to imply then she was merely an object.

“I didnae mean it like that,” he added quickly; trying to get ahead of the damage that he had caused. “I didnae mean—”

“I dinnae care what ye meant.” Muriel’s tone was curt but Liam could almost feel the barbs hidden under her words.

At that point, Muriel and Liam both fell silent. He didn't know what to say to her but he figured it was better that way. The less they talked, the less frustrated they'd become with each other, and that was the only way their journey could be painless. Liam simply enjoyed the silence and their surroundings; humming softly to himself as they passed through the land.

Muriel did not speak again until much later, when the sun had already begun to set. “May I request that we sleep outside tonight?”

“Outside?” Liam asked. He would be lying if he said that Muriel’s request hadn’t surprised him. He was expecting her to balk at the mere thought of sleeping in the forest instead of a warm, comfortable room with a bed and a fluffy mattress.

“Aye, outside,” Muriel said. “We’ll pass by Loch Leven, will we nae? It seems like a good place to set up camp.”

“Are ye certain that ye dinnae wish to sleep inside?” Liam asked. “We can find an inn; there are towns nearby and there is some light still.”

“Nae, I’d rather sleep outside,” Muriel insisted. “I wish to sleep under the stars. It’s been so long since I last did that, and noo seems like the perfect opportunity.”

Liam frowned but didn’t argue with her. It seemed strange to him that anyone would want to sleep outside in the cold when they could simply find an inn with a room — and perhaps more importantly, food and drink — but it wouldn’t be the first time that he slept outside. Besides, he didn’t want to object to her too much, thinking that maybe all he needed to do was show her he wasn't her enemy. As long as her requests were reasonable, he had no problem fulfilling them.