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Chapter Thirteen
“Brea,” Liam said, his voice low with wariness. “I thought ye would be back on the Isle.”
Brea sat down without being asked and removed her gloves like a fine English lady. Liam’s mind raced with what she might do or say next. “I was, but I felt it time to return when my most frequent customer and the reason I go to the Isle in the first place was not willing to come.”
Liam sighed loudly. When would it end? He wished he could find a man to replace himself in Brea’s affections. Perhaps Fergus would do? “Did ye see Fergus upon yer return? He has gone tae the house this evening.”
“Aye, I have seen him. He is with Sara at the moment.” And then, she was silent. Liam clasped tightly to his mug of ale, so tightly his knuckles turned white. He had already told her about his feelings. Why should she attempt to speak to him again?
“I spoke tae yer Elizabeth this morning.”
Liam felt the blood leave his face as he thought about what Brea might say or even do to a gentle woman like Elizabeth. He wouldn’t put it past her to be violent in her outbursts. She was a fiery lass, and while that made her exciting, it also made her extremely dangerous, like a cat lurking in the shadows.
“I see. And what did ye say?”
Brea smiled tightly, rubbing the fabric of her gloves between her fingers. “I do believe that ‘tis more about what yer lass said that ye will find more interesting.”
Liam furrowed his brows. He was beginning to get angry again, but he still kept himself contained, fearful of what could happen next. He sighed, feigning disinterest. “What is it, Brea? Ye must just tell me and leave off with the dramatic display.”
Brea narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, and he could feel the fire from them. “She told me that she has no interest in ye whatsoever. I accused her of husband-hunting in the wrong direction, for ye could never be such a man, and she said that she had nae interest in that anyway. It was a ‘moment ye shared and naething more.”
Brea then stood, satisfied with her work. Liam had the annoying feeling of having been punched in the gut. He couldn’t help but ask, “And what did the lady say about that?”
“Oh, it is lady now, is it? Nae more dear, lovely Elizabeth?”
Liam could have raged, but he still kept his cool amazingly. “Just tell me, Brea. Ye ken that ye wish tae, for I can see yer uncontrolled mirth in yer eyes.”
Brea smiled. “Ye see, Liam? Ye ken me so well. She said naething at the time, for I rode away soon after, but I could tell from her face that she would consider it. Who wouldnae consider such a man? Established, wealthy, in charge of a whole powerful clan? It would be foolish tae resist when John is clearly interested in the woman. He may even be in love.”
Liam’s calm, pleasantly dazed mood of earlier was descending fast into angry thoughts. While his anger at Fergus had been full and true, it was a dull sort which could be pushed away with their friendship. However, his anger at Brea was sharp and pointed, creating sparks in his mind.
Love? Surely not. She and John had barely spoken to one another. She and Liam had seen much more of each other.
He boiled with anger to think about John’s potential as a suitor. It was true; he was any woman’s dream, and Elizabeth would not be foolish to think of him as a husband. She would be a fool, however, to think of Liam as one, and in some small, sad way, he was proud of the way Elizabeth had spoken back to Brea. He, at least, could disentangle himself from thoughts of her, for she clearly had no interest in him beyond the momentary spot of pleasure they shared together.
“I see, Brea. Thank ye for yer message. Ye are most kind tae bring it tae my attention.” To relieve the anger pulsing in his chest, he resorted to sarcasm. She turned her head to the side and grinned.
“But of course, Liam. I thought the information was urgent enough to tell ye about. I thought it might save ye a few hours of wasting yer thoughts and mind on her.” With another smirk, Brea left the inn, and he could see her place her gloves on again as she whisked her way to the door. Many a man turned their eye to her as she passed, and Liam scoffed in disgust.
“Such a beauty but such a dark heart,” he grumbled to himself. He finished his ale and ordered another. Tonight was a night to get drunk. He was done with Brea — that was absolutely certain now. He would never again allow her to have the same power over him. But the news of Elizabeth’s stark honesty was enough to sour his mood for the rest of the evening.
He was at least glad he knew beforehand so that he did not make a fool of himself again, asking Elizabeth for a walk or any other sort of activity. He could be spared that rejection. She would be wise to spend time with another more worthy of her interest. He felt all his old resolve slipping away, and in its place came a dark sort of heaviness, as he considered what his life would be like once Elizabeth left the island and moved on with her life.
He would have to see her, for she and Charlotte would often want to visit one another. She would never be totally gone, and her presence would simply torment him. He drank half of his second ale, his mind buzzing anew with mixed emotions. He heard a soft voice speaking to the innkeeper, and he turned at the melodic sound, wondering if it was one of the women come to service a customer at the inn. But when he saw the fine pale pink cape that flowed to the ground in lovely folds, he was positive it was not one of those women. It was a gentlewoman.
He scowled as he thought of Elizabeth and how she would have a fine cape such as that. She deserved to have them for the rest of her life. Someone better than he could give her that. Someone like John or an English gentleman. He would have to be content with his dirty, brainless life. He sighed and leaned back. He was able to see the innkeeper’s face as he listened to the lady.
The man struggled to understand something, but eventually, he pointed out the door and made motions as if he was providing directions. The woman turned around. In the light of the fireplace, Liam could see her full face. His eyes widened as he realized it was Lady Elizabeth Darling about to make her way to the door.
* * *
It had been simple enough, or so she’d thought. The mainland had never been bustling with buildings on the coast, and so she thought she would be able to find the house of ill-repute easily. She assumed they would be easily identified as structures. But once she had left the boat and the man had begun to row back to Duart, she was at a loss as to where to begin. She could see Fort William, but she had never ventured as far from it as she’d thought to know all of the buildings in its vicinity.
So, she would have to attempt to find her destination on her own. The excitement of her new adventure made her feel a little courageous, but after a short while walking the forest path, the sun beginning to edge its way closer to the horizon, she began to get a little fearful. Was she completely mad for having left the comfort and safety of Duart only to plunge herself purposefully into the hands of the harsh world on her own?
She certainly did not look the part of a woman who belonged in the middle of nowhere, and so she feared what sort of other people she might come upon in her vulnerable state. But then, she saw the friendly outline of a large stone building, and she rushed to it, hopeful the people inside could tell her where this house of desire was located if it was not the right building itself. She clutched tightly to the little bag of coins she brought with her, remembering her mission.
It was her plan to visit the place and to pay one of the fallen ladies to help her understand the ways of men. She also honestly wanted to hear their story and how they ended where they did. Had their fathers banished them? Had they made a poor choice and were regretting it forever? Or could they perhaps be enjoying themselves? Brea did not seem to mind her occupation, although it did prevent her from keeping a man that she enjoyed continually coming to her bed.
