Emerald Prince (25 page)

Liam’s sat up and his breath left him in an explosive rush. “Finally. The bastard’s ignored us long enough.”

“Aye. He’s ready to meet and he’ll pay the full ransom.”

“Good,” Liam said, swinging his legs off the bed and rising to pace the chamber. It was what they hoped and waited for. Even Niall had begun to worry when so long a time had passed without word. And there was little worse than a worried Irishman. Liam grinned with relief. De Lacy had taken the bait at last. The game had begun.

“You’re still willing to hand o’er Alianor for gold, Uilleam?”

The question was not unexpected, nor the critical note in Niall’s voice. Liam felt irritated nonetheless. “We do what we must, Niall. Help many through the sacrifices of a few. Would you have me change my mind? Then what?”

“We could send her back to England.”

“And Lackland would send her back to de Lacy, minus the generous dowry this time.”

Niall’s expression did not change. He folded his arms and regarded Liam with a steady, disapproving gaze.

“Damme it, Niall. Alianor is de Lacy’s property now. We can’t change that fact. Provoking the King further could invite retaliation against everyone here. And, God knows, we certainly can’t keep her here forever.”

“Why not?”

Niall’s stubborn retort seemed to imply it was easy. Liam sighed, frustrated. “Lest you have forgotten, Alianor’s English. She doesn’t want to be here anymore than she wants to marry de Lacy.”

Niall’s long, deep sigh told Liam he wished things were different. As did he.

“De Lacy won’t take t’ kindly when he learns of you an’ Alianor — of your relationship.” Niall didn’t elaborate, looking embarrassed. “I fear for her, Liam.”

Liam did, too. What would de Lacy do if he found out she had lain with him? Did he know Coventry had never touched her? Was he expecting a virgin? If so, what would he do? The image floating before his mind’s eyes created even more despair. Rumors of
Le Anguille’s
perversions, his sadistic treatment of women and his first wife’s death ran rampant even in the depths of the Irish woods.

“Too late to fret about it, Niall. Alianor doesn’t seem concerned about it, so we shouldn’t be either.” Liam didn’t confess he was worried enough for them both.

“Perhaps she does not realize the worth a man places on a wife’s fidelity.”

“I think there is precious little Alianor doesn’t know. She is a damme intelligent woman.”

Niall’s concerned look did not fade. “An’, nephew,” he cleared his throat, “if I might be blunt — you two are going at it like March hares. What if there is a
báibín
? Have you ne’er thought of it?”

His uncle’s point pierced Liam’s anguished mind. “A child?”

“Aye, you dolt,” Niall snapped. “How would you feel knowing a bastard like de Lacy was raising your son? Assuming he even felt inclined to do so, an’ did not drown both mother and babe in the horse trough when he learns he was cuckolded.”

Liam felt like Niall had slugged him in the gut. Air whooshed from his lungs, an explosion shattered his heart. It left him unable to take another breath, even to ease the burning in his chest. Neither words nor excuses came to mind.

Nothing could ease the pain of harsh truth. How could he provide for, much less protect Alianor when she left the camp? The answer came to him, one bitterly simple and painful. He could not. She must bear the consequences, and any fruit of their forbidden union, alone.

Niall must have seen his distress, and realized the futility of challenging Liam further. He changed tactics. “When do you want the men ready?” He looked resigned.

Liam raked a hand through his hair. “In the morning, Niall. But I will ride ahead of you.”

“What?” Niall stared at him as if he was mad.

“I ride ahead. Alone.” Unbidden, a deep sadness tugged at Liam’s heart. Could he truly hand Alianor over to de Lacy, and watch her ride away with the fiend, as if nothing had happened between them? In the morning, he would find out.

“It could be a trap,” Niall warned him. “De Lacy claims he will come alone, too, but we both know better than to trust the man. You should not go alone either, lad.”

Liam expected a trap and did not discount the danger of it. “De Lacy knows I’m no fool. He’ll expect me to bring men, as he will. But I’ll not risk the lives of my men over this sordid mess. It was my doing when I took Alianor hostage. I’ll approach him alone.”

“’Tis insane,” Niall objected.

“Perhaps not. If he knows my men are with me, over the next rise, it might be enough to keep him from acting rash. My mind’s made up. I won’t signal any of the men forward until I know what to expect.”

“You’ll bloody well take one with you,” Niall insisted, his square jaw set with determination. “I’ll not let you ride up alone to meet the Norman bastard, Liam. You cannot stop me.”

Liam sighed and nodded capitulation. He laid a hand on Niall’s shoulder, squeezed it by way of thanks. “I expected as much. Since when has a Caomhánach backed down from any challenge? We leave in the morning, before first light.”

Chapter Eighteen

“N
IALL, HAVE YOU SEEN
Alianor?”

At Liam’s question, Niall glanced up from sharpening the blade of his sword. He let the grinding wheel slow to a soft, whirling hum. He brushed one hand off on the leather apron he wore and pointed west. “I saw her heading for the lough awhile ago, lad. Took along that beastie you call a dog with her.”

Niall grinned and wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. It was easy to read Liam’s mind as he took off in the direction she had gone, the lad’s haste apparent. But his smile disappeared as quickly when he thought about their intent on the morn. This would be their last afternoon together and he knew, in his heart, his nephew would find it more difficult than he let on.

Liam headed in the direction of the lake, wondering what she was doing. His mission was not a pleasant one. He intended telling her it was time to get ready; tomorrow morning she must go to de Lacy. Another thought pushed past his troubled mind to tease him — perhaps she was bathing. The tantalizing thought prompted Liam to speed up his gait. He wouldn’t mind a bath himself.

When he crossed the abbey’s grounds into the woods a wall of forest wrapped him in its cool embrace. Sunlight rippled overhead; the tallest tree branches splayed in a sheltering fashion to keep bright light from spilling into his shaded path. Soon the sounds of the busy camp were left behind, and the softer, more subtle noises of the wilderness welcomed Liam.

By the time he reached the lake, he was breathless. Each moment apart from Alianor seemed an eternity. How could he bear the agony of what he must do tomorrow? How much worse would it be when she was forever gone from his life?

He didn’t want to think about it and turned his attention to a more pleasant task, finding Alianor. He spotted her. She had cast her dress aside on the shore. Her undertunic was tied up around her hips. She splashed her feet in the crystal water, playing like a little girl as she waded about. Liam could hear her humming and she seemed at peace, content.

Liam smiled. He stopped to watch her, moving a pace closer so he saw the expression of delight he knew must be present on her lovely face. Turrean heard his approach and lifted her head, instantly alert. Recognizing Liam, the wolfhound gave a little sniff and laid her muzzle on her outstretched paws again. Only a flicker of her ears whenever he moved revealed the fact she was not sleeping as she appeared.

At first, Alianor seemed unaware Liam approached. He stood for a long time in the shadows of the trees behind her, enjoying the nymph-like vision in the water. She kept humming a merry little ditty, oblivious to his presence. Sensing someone watched her, she whirled about. A gasp escaped before she recognized who it was.

A smile teased at Liam’s lips. “You should be more careful, milady. Anyone could have been standing here, enjoying your state of undress.”

She cast a disappointed glance at Turrean. “That’s why I brought the dog along. I
thought
she’d discourage any who might wish to sneak up on me and take undue advantage.”

Liam chuckled. “But you forget, Alianor,” he moved closer, noting the sheerness of her damp smock left little to the imagination, “she is
my
dog.”

“Yes,” she conceded with a laugh, “she is
your
mangy hound.”

Liam tsked her, admiring the way the fabric clung to her slender yet lush figure, revealing the rosy peaks of her nipples. “Whatever happened to thinking she was beautiful?”

Eyes twinkling, Alianor stuck out her tongue at him. “That was before she betrayed me to you and your wicked thoughts.”

His eyebrow shot up in mock dismay. “I’ve said nothing to give you such a notion. Surely you misjudge me, milady.”

“Surely I do not, William.” Alianor raised her chin a notch. He admired the way her hair glistened like the silvery lake in the sunshine, reflecting deep blue hues from the waters of the lough. He liked the view enough to not even feel the slightest tic of irritation at her using the forbidden name again.

Instead he struggled to keep a straight face, while the hardness between his legs betrayed him. “And pray tell, Madame, what direction you suspect my thoughts have turned?”

The blush rising from her neck to stain her cheeks told Liam she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. At his steady approach to the water’s edge, she turned away from his bold gaze and folded her arms. He pulled off his boots and threw them aside, and slogged through the cool water until he reached her. His hand gently cupped her chin and turned her head so she looked at him. She worried her bottom lip, a look of dismay sketched upon her beautiful features.

“What is it, Alianor? Has my intrusion into your privacy upset you?” he asked, remembering her happiness and their shared mirth only moments before. Her brow furrowed.

“No, you do not intrude. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. I don’t mind sharing it.”

“Good,” he said, letting more questions go as he glanced around at the lake. Pockets of mist already formed here and there, drifting across the glassy surface as the sun started its descent in the sky. “’Tis one of my favorite places.”

He grinned then shrugged off his dark blue tunic, and tossed it onto the shore. His trews followed, and Alianor gasped with surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Why, going for a swim, of course.”

“A swim? At this late hour?”

Liam winked at her. “Aye. Won’t you join me,
sailchuach liath
?”

He reached out to take her hand when she did not offer it. “I think not,” Alianor muttered, shaking her head. She pulled free and waded back towards the shore.

He followed, calling after her, “It will feel good, refreshing. Trust me, no one is about to see us.”

Alianor shook her head no, but he grabbed her by the wrist before she could retreat further. “Why not?” he persisted. There was emotion in her eyes he could not define, but he suspected it bordered on fear.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Alianor confessed. “Is that a good enough reason?”

The possibility hadn’t occurred to him. Relieved it was a simple thing, he offered, “I’ll teach you, Alianor. There’s nothing to fear.”

Alianor tossed her head and looked him straight in the eye. “I am not afraid.” In truth, she lied. She was terrified.

“We Irish are born to the water. Those raised in fishing communities sometimes learn to swim before they can walk. Come,” Liam coaxed her, “I will teach you.”

Alianor herself couldn’t understand her dread of going deeper into the lake. It was calm in the early evening, still as a looking glass mirror. Yet the nagging fear persisted. What made her so afraid? She hated feeling like a frightened ninny about anything. Despite the apprehension, rapidly rising in waves to choke her, she took Liam’s outstretched hand.

He pulled her to him, his strong arms holding her close. Droplets of water sparkled on his dark hair, clung to his eyelashes above those laughing deep green eyes. She looked into those eyes, trusting him. Bit by bit, Liam swam out into the deep, clear water, while Alianor drifted along with him.

“Relax,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll not let you go.” Liam cradled her head in his hands, lowering her back into the cool water. “Let your body float, and it will happen naturally, without thought.”

His deep voice was soft, caressing, instructing her in each movement. Alianor relaxed under his tutelage, knowing he would keep her safe. She drifted on top of the water, her mind distracted by the serenity and beauty of the lake.

“Good,” he praised her. “Now turn over. Use your feet and hands to tread the water and you’ll not sink.”

Alianor took a deep breath and rolled over. Her head went under and a shock of terror gripped her. Flashes of images attacked her as the water stole the air, the light, her world from her. She choked and struggled against the icy intruder in her lungs, and flailed wildly. Suddenly, the lake rose up to drag her under into its maw.

Liam yanked her up from the water and she clung to him, sobbing, her legs instinctively wrapping about his waist. Her arms clutched his neck, nearly choking him as well. She shuddered and wept with a mixture of fear, shame and frustration.