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Once Elizabeth entered the stone house, she realized that it was not a house of ill-repute. It looked very similar to the inn she had stayed at one her way to Charlotte’s wedding, and she felt a little safer knowing that she had here to stay in case something went awry. Taking a breath, she confidently approached the innkeeper, hoping the man could direct her in the right way.
The room was warm and smelled of cooked meat and ale. It was a homey, comforting smell, and she almost wanted to sit right down and enjoy the comforts it provided, but she had a job to do. There were not too many people in the room, but she was grateful that there was at least enough to avoid anyone hearing her request.
“Excuse me, Sir. I know this must seem an odd request, but would you mind pointing me in the direction of the closest,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “house of fallen women?”
At first, the old man looked incredulous that a fine, English lady should have asked such a question, but with the inducement of a small coin placed in his palm, he was eager to point her in the correct path.
After a few quietly spoken directions, Elizabeth felt that she could confidently find her way in the light of the moon. It would not be so very far if she had but the courage to get there. And so she would. This experience could change everything about her future life, and she was tired of always sitting timidly by, in the shadows. She wanted to come forth into the light.
She turned to the doorway, and squaring her shoulders and clutching her cape, she walked to it, but then she felt a tug on her arm. Confused and a little fearful, she turned to the source of the tug and saw Liam MacLean, lifted out of his chair, holding tightly to her wrist.
As if his mere presence caused her discomfort, she blushed immediately. She knew it was partially because of her current mission. “Liam,” she said, “What are you doing here?”
She certainly knew what he was doing there, but she expected him to be at the house of ill-repute as was his wont, or so Brea had said.
He kept standing next to the table, but then he motioned to the chair across. “I could ask ye the same question, Elizabeth. What would bring ye, a fine English lass, out here in the middle of the night?”
Elizabeth did not sit but instead clasped her hands together as she tried to create a plausible explanation that was not so humiliating. “I had an interest to come and see General Andrews. I know that he is lonely during the time after his daughter’s marriage, and since he was so kind to me, I thought he might like a little company.”
Liam’s expression made it seem like he did not believe her. “Will ye sit and take a drink with me?”
Elizabeth thought about that possibility for a second. Her very first thought was to the indecorousness of her sitting with a gentleman on her own, but then she remembered she was about to visit a house of desire to inquire as to the methods of its occupants.
She sat down, and Liam looked satisfied, if not just a little bit drunk and tired. “It seems that General Andrews is a lucky man, tae have such a visitor and at such a time.”
Elizabeth looked around her, afraid to catch Liam’s eyes. “Well, I know that it sounds foolish, but I was interested in walking the woods a little, and I am afraid that I lost my way in the dark The moon is not as full as I had hoped for my mission.” She coughed to correct herself. “My visit.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. “Ye puzzle me, Sassenach.”
And you puzzle me.
Liam waved a hand to the innkeeper and pointed to his pint glass. “I say that if ye are tae experience a true inn, then ye will take a drink with me. If ye dinnae like it, I will have the rest.”
Elizabeth smiled and watched with interest as the innkeeper brought her a frothy mug of ale and set it before her.
“Is this ale?” she asked. Liam burst into laughter.
“Aye, lass. ‘Tis ale. Have ye never had it?”
She shook her head. “No, it is not the way of the English lady. I was never allowed to do such things.”
Liam took a sip. “Drink yer ale. I am certain ye were nae. Ye were nae allowed to do many things, such as kiss a man on a hilltop?”
Elizabeth had just taken a sip from her mug, but then at Liam’s words, spit it out again all over the table. Instead of reacting, Liam just laughed, while Elizabeth blushed deeply. She looked blankly at the table in front of her.
“By God, I am so sorry.” She touched a hand to her face. “Perhaps I should not be drinking after all. Even one sip has made me careless.”
Liam said, “I dinnae think ye have ever been careless in yer life, Lady Elizabeth. Ye are ever and always a complete Lady. Such a contrast tae me rough ways.”
Elizabeth wiped her mouth with her fingertips, still feeling the pang of embarrassment. “Well, I was always intended to be a lady.” She took another sip, and this time drank deep from it, hoping it gave her the same courage as wine.
“Well, ye have achieved yer goal. Now about that hilltop.”
Elizabeth winced. “’Twas a moment of thoughtlessness and passion.”
Liam smiled, and Elizabeth could see the warmth of alcohol spread in his face. But as she continued to sip from her mug, she did not mind. Time seemed to slow. “Passion, was it?”
Elizabeth took a breath and paused as she stared into his eyes. It had been passion. A passion that had stemmed from a deep and longing need deep inside of her. It still rumbled underneath the surface, and there would be no quelling it. It had awoken as soon as she and Liam had first touched lips, and now it was a hungry animal, desperate for satiation.
