Liam raked his hands through his hair before returning them to his lap, finding it impossible to lift his gaze. For the first time since he’d been a child he felt brittle. Breakable. As though he were stretched out on the rack and the last turn of the screws would tear his limbs apart.
“I hated my father,” Liam admitted. “I promised to never become like him and yet, though I’ve never laid a hand on my son in anger, he still wishes me dead.”
The whisper of her touch caressed him before her hand rested tentatively in his open palm. Again he had to close his eyes because, even in the dimness, the moon illuminated too much.
“Your father was unspeakably cruel to you, and I am so very sorry for it.” Her fingers curled around his hand and exerted a soft, comforting pressure. Her voice warmed the chilly evening. “If I know one thing, Andrew is your son. Hot-blooded and hardheaded, but tender for all that. I think he speaks from a place of injury rather than conviction.”
“How do I tell him that Gavin was right? That I stayed away because, even though my father is dead, through me he somehow seems able to destroy everything or everyone in my path…” An aching void opened up in Liam’s chest that stole his breath. One by one, he allowed his fingers to curl around hers.
“I became the Demon Highlander for them, ye ken? Not for the glory of the empire. Or the Mackenzie clan. Not to make a name or fortune for myself. Ye see, as a young man, I always thought if I died at war, if I left this world a hero, my children would remember me fondly. Not only that, their futures in society would be secure. ’Tis why I always led the charge, why I jumped into the most dangerous circumstances without a thought. Every mission, every battle, I expected to be my last. I think Andrew and I both anticipated that I would be nothing but a distant memory for him, not an ill-tempered man he’d have to live with. Someone he’d wished had never come home…”
“He didn’t mean what he said,” she crooned to him.
“He’s within his right to,” Liam murmured, troubled and yet transfixed by the soft, small hand tucked into his.
“No he isn’t.” She tightened her hold again, and oddly enough he felt a little bit of the pressure in his chest ease so he could take a deep breath. “He loves you. It’s why he’s so angry. He wants you to love him. He wants you to teach him. I think he needs to know that he can be difficult and you will not abandon him.”
Liam clung to her, his only salvation in the crashing and eddying tides of emotion he never allowed himself to examine. “What if it’s too late?” His fear amalgamated into something solid. Tangible. And once he’d given it voice, it grew with enough force to crush him.
“I’m not of the opinion that anything with Andrew was broken tonight that cannot be repaired as swiftly and thoroughly as my door can.” She’d pushed a bit of cheek into her voice; to lighten the moment, he assumed.
Despite that, shame weighted down the edges of Liam’s mouth as he thought of the physical force he’d used against her door. The only illusion she had of safety. “I shouldna have acted so barbaric. I doona want ye to fear me, lass. I’ll have the door fixed in the morning.”
She was silent for a breathless moment. “Think no more of it,” she said. “We’ll hopefully both wipe it from our memory and move forward.”
Liam hoped like hell she’d be able to, though he knew he’d be tormented by the memory of her sumptuous flesh for countless days to come. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, and whatever the shadows concealed, his recollection of her perfection filled in the spaces.
“I know this is a sore subject between us,” she ventured. “It’s only that I don’t know what Lord Thorne said to make you think I’d allow him into my room, but I want to assure you that I have no intentions toward your brother, and wouldn’t dream of conducting myself in a manner that—”
“I knew Gavin wasna in yer room,” Liam assured her. “He wouldna dare. I forbade him from bothering ye further, and he left.”
“Forbade?” Liam could tell she didn’t like the word by the perplexed lethargy with which she said it. “If the earl went home, then who did you think…?” It took her mind two very quick seconds to put it all together and snatch her hand out of his. “You came to my bedroom looking for … Andrew? You kicked the door in because you thought your son was in here with me in the middle of the night?” She’d moved past perplexed to mystified, and Liam had to sort through his Scotch-muddled thoughts for something to say.
“Oh, my God.” She stood and turned away from him, retreating a few paces and wrapping her arms back around her middle in that protective gesture.
The loss of her comforting touch drove Liam to his feet. “Rhianna said ye’d both gone upstairs to bed at the same time. The two of ye had been avoiding me for days. When ye werena sneaking away together ye were whispering secrets. I didna ken at the time that it was regarding a wee beastie.”
She slowly twisted to face him, and Liam was glad he couldn’t see whatever awful emotion her gaze contained. “So you thought I … Lord, I can’t even say it.” Her hand flew to her forehead and dragged across it as though to wipe away the offending thought.
Liam groped for something, anything that might make her understand. “Andrew’s sullen moods have driven away every governess he’s ever had, and suddenly he started treating ye like ye’d hung the moon.”