Page 63 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

“Faither, please!” Muriel cried; throwing herself in front of Liam as though she could save him by turning herself into a human shield. “Please… I’ll do anythin’ ye ask. All I ask is that ye dinnae kill him. I promise ye, I’ll marry Laird Macleod; I’ll never even look at Liam again, as long as ye dinnae harm him.”

“Ye’ve made that promise before for yer maither and look at ye noo,” her father said, though Liam could tell that he was reluctant to agree to Macleod’s request. “The lad is a McAlpine, Laird Macleod. What do ye think will happen if I hang him?”

“We have every right to do with him as we see fit,” Macleod said; lips curling into a cold, cruel smile. “Since he attacked Muriel, nae one can tell us we cannae hang him. It’s a matter of yer only daughter’s virtue.”

Liam's body shook as rage coursed through him. He could deal with a lot of things, but such blatant unfairness and lies enraged him like nothing else could. They could take his life, or anything else they wanted, but he wouldn't let them take his honor.

“I didnae attack Muriel,” he said and despite trying to speak as calmly as possible, his words came out as a snarl. “I would never do anythin’ to hurt her. Ye ken that, Laird McNeil. I brought her here precisely because I didnae want her to get hurt. If ye let people believe that I am the monster Laird Macleod and Lady Hextilda claim I am, then I hope that the shame of yer acquiescence follows ye for the rest of yer life. Me family will never believe ye anyway. They ken what kind of man I am. They will ken that ye’re just feedin’ them lies.”

Liam could see Laird McNeil's hesitation again, though he was certain it wasn't because he had appealed to his conscience, but because of the thinly veiled threat that no matter what the laird claimed, his family would avenge him regardless. The McAlpine clan would not go to war for no reason, but Liam's death at his hands would be enough to turn them against him.

And the McAlpines were a force to be reckoned with.

“Here is what I suggest instead,” Liam continued. “A duel.”

“A duel?” Laird McNeil asked; blinking in confusion. “Between us?”

“Nae, between me and Laird Macleod,” Liam said; pinning the man with his gaze.

Macleod appeared surprised, but to his credit, he didn't try to refuse at first. Liam wondered if he was brave enough to refuse, but hoped that his pride would prevent him from doing so. He'd been looking for a reason to fight him without anyone around to stop him from taking his life, and now it'd been handed to him on a silver platter.

Liam didn't know what else to suggest if he refused. Imprisonment was a worse fate than death and, for all he knew, Laird McNeil could eventually cave to Macleod's demands and have him executed.

A duel would solve all his problems. Once he won, no one would have the right to punish Liam. And with Macleod gone, Muriel would be free.

“This is ridiculous,” Macleod said with an indignant huff, hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared Liam down. “Why would I agree to this?”

So, he is a coward. But he also has pride. He willnae give it away so easily.

“Why would ye nae?” Liam asked with a small shrug. “Here’s yer chance to kill me with yer own two hands. I’m sure ye’ve wanted this for a while. But I understand if ye’re afraid. I am aware of my reputation.”

Macleod’s eyes narrowed at the insult – his face slowly reddening with every passing second – much to Liam’s amusement. “Why would I be afraid of someone like ye? If it’s a duel that ye want then ye shall have it.”

Liam had to bite back a pleased smile when his lure worked flawlessly. He was confident in his ability to defeat Macleod, just as he had defeated countless men before him.

“Liam,” Muriel called; turning to face him and laying a hand on his shoulder – her eyes wide and pleading, her voice quiet as though she didn’t want anyone else in the room to hear her. “Do ye really think this is a good idea?”

“Do ye have nae faith in me, lass?” Liam asked; keeping his voice just as low. “Do ye nae think that I can defeat him?”

“I just… I think he’s a dangerous man,” Muriel said. “More than ye may realise. What if he does somethin’ dishonourable just to guarantee that he’ll beat ye?”

“Then I’ll be expectin’ it,” he said, glancing at Macleod, who was staring at the two of them impatiently – along with everyone else. “Dinnae fash yerself about me. When have I ever lost a fight?”

“There’s a first time for everythin’,” Muriel pointed out. “Just promise me that ye’ll be careful. Promise me.”

"I promise," Liam said, reaching for her, but before he could hold her, two pairs of hands grabbed him and yanked him away. "Hey!" he yelled at the two guards but he made no attempt to escape their grasp. As much as he wanted to kiss Muriel one last time before the duel, he knew there would be time for that after he had finally gotten rid of Macleod.

Even if I kill him, though, who’s to say that her faither willnae kill me, too? Or that he willnae give her to someone else?

Liam had to remain cautious, even after his victory. He had made the mistake of trusting Laird McNeil once. He wouldn’t do it again.

“Take him to the dungeon,” Laird McNeil said. “Since ye dinnae seem to appreciate me hospitality or to respect me as the laird of this clan, then it’s only fittin’ that I treat ye like the criminal ye are. Ye’ll remain there until the morrow, when ye will duel Laird Macleod.”

"That's fine with me," Liam snarled, though he had to admit that the mere mention of the dungeons made him shudder. He'd slept in far worse places, but it was the thought of being trapped inside, with walls and bars surrounding him, that made him nervous.

“Liam!” Muriel called just as the guards were pulling him out of the room; making him stumble. “I love ye!”

“I love ye, too, mo ghràdh,” Liam said quietly, more to himself than for anyone else to hear. He smiled even as the guards dragged him to the dungeons; pushing him into the last cell and locking the door.

It was cold, but not as cold as it was in the woods at night. Liam had grown accustomed to it. He only wished there wasn't such an unbearable stench of stale air and grime, so unlike the clean air of the forests. In the darkness, his cell illuminated only by a distant torch, he remembered Muriel and the last words she had said to him before they took him away.

She was worth any hardship that Laird McNeil and Macleod could inflict on him. Liam was willing to go through anything for her. He'd win that duel. For her.