No clarity came over Brigid as she listened to Siobhan speak. If anything, she felt as though her confusion only grew. There were some matters on which she knew she could always trust Liam, yet was that the same as trusting him with everything?
Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “And what of love?”
Siobhan gave a small shrug. “It’s nice, but it wasn’t there in the beginning with Sebastian. He ordered me to his bed and I went. I was his for some weeks before I recognized it as love.”
It was a reminder of how different the two of them were. Though she and Liam had worked side by side for some time, they had only been lovers for a few days before being separated. She had already been drawn to him against her will before he knew she was a woman. Once he had rescued her from the Gato del Diablo, there had been no question about how she felt.
Brigid rose from her chair, nervously fiddling with her now naked ring finger. “When I realized I was pregnant and couldn’t find Liam, I promised myself I’d only ever marry for love.”
The other woman cocked her head slightly as she gazed up at Brigid. “You don’t love Liam?”
“It’s not my love I’m worried about.”
Siobhan stood as well, frowning now. There was something almost pitying in her eyes that made Brigid look away. “Let me guess, then,” Siobhan said. “He’s trying to be honorable and you don’t like that? You want it to be something romantic and perfect, like some chivalric knight on a white charger sweeping a lady off her feet.”
Brigid shook her head with vehemence. “Nothing’s perfect. I just want to know he loves me and wants to marry me, instead of following some sense of duty that’s completely uncalled for in this situation.”
A soft hand on her arm made her relax slightly and she looked to Siobhan again. The other woman had stepped closer to her, her lips pursed with concern. “Brigid, my dear friend, marriage has nothing to do with love. I adore Sebastian with every last bit of my heart, but marriage is separate from that. It’s just a contract, a financial agreement. You give him children and comfort and he gives you protection and a home.”
Brigid hesitated a moment, then gently shrugged off Siobhan’s hand. “I don’t need protection and a home. I need love.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A SECOND PROPOSAL
WHEN Brigid returned to the inn, she remained distant, much to Liam’s chagrin. Of all the lessons that he had learned at his mentor’s knee, none had ever covered courting a reluctant woman. They certainly hadn’t included courting his mentor’s daughter. All his experience with bedding women didn’t much translate to this new and uncertain territory.
That night, he had difficulty sleeping again, as he kept hoping Brigid might come to spend the night with him. Even if she didn’t want to marry him, she still wanted him, didn’t she? Troublingly, that question went unanswered and he had to get what sleep he could while tormented with doubt.
The next morning, he went to her room to break his fast, uncomfortably aware the entire time that he wasn’t truly part of the family. He sat there sipping his tea, listening to Brigid and Ann discuss the management of their land and purchases that they needed to make. Brigid was encouraging toward him interacting with Donny, but there was a line she had drawn in the sand. There was what they shared as parents and then everything else that they would never share, because she feared letting him be part of it.
Was it reasonable for her to fear it? He mused on that, trying to think clearly rather than letting his own hurt and frustration cloud his view. Ann had given him just a taste of the struggles she had faced alone. A husband could make some of those struggles easier—Liam could lend legitimacy to her business efforts as well as pool his own wealth with hers for greater comfort—but only if he were trustworthy. Though they had worked as mates aboard the Black Pride for weeks before they became lovers, how a man treated his peers was rarely the same as how he treated his wife. He thought he had been properly attentive and protective as her lover, but he had also abandoned her. True, he thought it was what she wanted, but that wouldn’t ease her fear of it happening again, would it?
Just as knowing why ol’ Don hadn’t brought him home didn’t ease the pain of rejection. Even now, a knot of loneliness twisted in his stomach as he longed to join the family before him.
He set his cup down on its saucer. “Mrs. O’Cullane, could you watch Donny today? I’d like to spend some time talking to Brigid privately.”
Ann’s brows rose with mild surprise and a small smile graced her lips. Brigid glanced at her mother, then back at Liam. A faint wrinkle of worry formed between her eyes. “We can speak in front of Donny.”
“Aye, we can, but that doesn’t mean I want to. I’d like to talk with just the two of us.”
He saw Brigid’s jaw set stubbornly as she took a deep breath, no doubt preparing to refuse. Before she got that far, her mother stepped in. “I’d be happy to watch him,” Ann said warmly. “Take as long as you need.”
“We don’t ‘need’ any time,” Brigid corrected.
Mother and daughter looked at one another in silence for a long moment, as some unspoken contest of wills took place. Brigid looked away first, turning her attention to where Donny was nibbling on a slice of bread with butter and jam. “Donny, your da and I are going to go for a wee bit, but you’ll be staying here with your gran. All right?”
The little boy made a cheerful sound of acknowledgment, more interested in his food than in what arrangements were made between adults.
“We might as well go off for this talk now.” Brigid rose to her feet, abandoning the remains of her meal. Liam glanced down at his own plate with a sigh. Perhaps he had spoken too soon. He would have preferred to linger and enjoy the morning, then gently ease into discussions of the future. Once again, he had spoken without thinking and ruined his own hopes.
“Very well.”
Rather than speak privately in his room, he thought being out and walking might do better to keep her temper in check. It also seemed the best option for assuring himself that this was for talk and not bedding her. The two of them remained quiet as he lead the way out of the inn and into the street.
Halfway down the block, he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise up as a deep, low sound he felt more than heard rolled across the city. He glanced toward Brigid and could see by the way she had stopped and cocked her head that she had sensed it as well.
“Is that what you felt the day I arrived?” he asked.
She nodded, crossing her arms tightly around herself as if cold, though Caribbean summer left the air sweltering. “It wasn’t that strong before, but it was the same feeling. Do you know what it is?”
“No.” He looked around the street, noting that no one else within sight had reacted. The humans seemed to be oblivious. “I’ve felt something similar before a storm, though. It’s one of the reasons we make good sailors, I suppose.”
They both automatically looked to the sky, which was clear and blue. A faint breeze brought in the scent of the sea, but it wasn’t particularly strong. It was the season for hurricanes and tropical storms, yet there didn’t appear to be one close to battering the port.
“I think I’ve felt something like this before, too. I just can’t remember when it was.”
Concern the likes of which he had never dealt with before struck him suddenly. He stepped closer to Brigid to touch her arm, his fear for her and Donny naked in his eyes. “The three of you don’t need to stay. You could head home while I’m still waiting for my cargo.”
She shrugged off his touch with a frown. “No, I don’t want to do that. Donny needs you and you’ll be gone for weeks sailing for New England and back again.”
“Aye, I will, but a few weeks of separation is better than either of you being hurt.”
She parted her lips as though she were going to respond, but no words came. He watched as she shook her head, then started walking again, quickly moving ahead of him. He followed, closing the distance
to walk beside her again.
“’Tis just a short separation, Brigid. I’m coming back. I’ll always come back. You have no idea how badly I want to be part of the lad’s life.”
She turned to look at him as they walked, her dark blue eyes glittering. When she spoke, her voice was tight around the words. “Is that all you’re coming back for?”
He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, not all. I’d come back even if we’d never had Donny. I don’t know that you’d let me, though.”
“You’re a fool, then.”
He wasn’t sure how to interpret that, particularly not when she sped up her walk again. He could stay beside her easily, but began to doubt she wanted him there. “Am I? If we didn’t have Donny and you told me to leave you alone, aye, I’d do that. I’d hate it, but I wouldn’t push myself where I’m not wanted.”
Brigid stopped so abruptly that he had to turn around to face her again, having taken several steps ahead before he realized she was no longer walking. She had her fists against the full hips of her skirt, a tint of pink around her eyes. She looked as though she might cry. “That’s not why you’re a fool.”
“Stop! Stop right here,” a woman’s voice called from a carriage to the driver.
Liam tore his eyes away from Brigid with a sense of trepidation. Just as he had feared, it was Mary that stepped out of the carriage and pranced over to throw herself into his arms shamelessly. He stayed stiff rather than wrap his arms around her. The dark-haired woman was short and delicately built, making it far too easy for him to watch Brigid’s face over Mary’s shoulder. The redhead looked to be torn between tears and murder.
“Mary,” Liam finally said as he grasped the woman by her shoulders, then gently nudged her back to look at her. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I am, today. I had to get my affairs in order, though. I’m so glad I saw you before I left.” Mary smiled prettily as she let her fingers dance their way up his chest. “Where’s your next port?”
He caught her by the wrist to remove her fingers from him. “Boston. I’m not sure that I’ll be visiting much on my next stop here, though.”
“No?” Mary’s eyes flicked toward Brigid, then back to Liam again. “So is what she was saying the other day true, then? She really is your wife?”
Liam saw as Brigid’s eyes widened, her cheeks flaming now. She turned to start walking back toward the inn and he cursed under his breath. Under other circumstances, he would have been thrilled to learn Brigid had been calling herself his wife, but having it announced that way seemed like a good method to ensure she would never give him her hand.
“Not yet. I’m hoping she will be shortly.” Liam stepped around Mary, then gave her a look of sorrow over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mary. We have a son and it changes everything. Please keep yourself safe.”
A small hand caught his wrist before he could run off and he saw Mary’s eyes had turned serious. “Liam, I wasn’t trying to cause trouble. I just don’t ever want to see you as miserable again as you were last time.”
He frowned at that, remembering well how he had been after he parted ways with Brigid. He had done his best to hide it, but hadn’t succeeded with Mary. “I won’t. Not if I have my way.” Before she could say anything more in response to him, Liam rushed down the street to catch up with Brigid. She hadn’t managed to make it all the way back to the inn, luckily. He caught her by the arm and pulled her against him.
“Let go of me!” she snapped, shoving at his chest with her free hand.
“Listen.” That single word came out as more of a snarl than he intended, but he refused to let another misunderstanding rob him of everything he had ever wanted. “Your father kept you in the dark about everything you are. Stop being jealous for a moment and let me explain things to you.”
She leaned in closer to him, though it wasn’t for intimacy. It was to lower her voice to a hiss. “Explain what? That you were whoring your way across the Atlantic while I was trying to raise your son all alone? That you let your cook think you were married to me the entire time you were rutting around shamelessly? Is that what you want to explain?”
He narrowed his eyes, saying nothing. His grip on her arm tightened as he drew away from her, then tugged her with him into an alleyway between two buildings. It was hardly privacy, but better than having such an intimate discussion in the street. He pushed her up against the wall of one of the buildings, his hands braced at her shoulders to keep her from running off again.
“Aye, I never told Robert about our lie, because I wanted it to be true. And aye, I’ve been with women since we parted ways, since I had no intention of becoming a monk over a broken heart. I would have expected you to do similar.”
“You expected wrong.” Her voice was icy, face impassive. “I haven’t so much as looked at another man since you left me in New Providence.”
“Aye, I know that now. You had a boy to raise and you’re not…” He trailed off for a moment, then sighed. “You’re not like other ratkin.”
“Thank you, Liam. For a brief moment I forgot how defective and broken I am. I do enjoy having my father’s shame of me tossed back in my face.”
Rather than being upset by her sarcasm, he could only chuckle. That sharp tongue of hers had been half the reason he had fallen in love with her. “You’re not broken, luv. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He had to bite back telling her more of what her mother had confessed, knowing it wasn’t his place to tell her. He prayed to God that Ann would tell her the entire story eventually, though. Keeping the secret was only burying Ann in guilt and Brigid in disappointment. “But your da didn’t tell you what ratkin society is like. He never let you have any contact with the rest of us.”
“And just what are you saying about ratkin?”
“We’re not so hung up on chastity as humans. There are a few other ratkin women in the colonies. Not many—thanks to those fucking cats—but a few. Mary and I’ve been lovers off and on for years, but she’s never been my mate. It’s just friends taking care of a need that’s not properly satisfied by humans alone. We’ll bed humans, but it’s just not the same.”
***
BRIGID tried to keep her anger up as Liam spoke, but found some of the fight had left her. Despite her hurt, she knew it had been unreasonable to hope he had remained celibate when they were separated. He had no doubt never expected to see her again. She looked into his eyes, frowning. “So I never satisfied you?”
“You’re not—” He cut himself off before he began again. “No other woman can compare to you, human or ratkin. You’ve always surpassed them all.”
His judgment brought a brief blush to her cheeks. “The catkind used that word you mentioned, too. What do you mean by ‘mate’?”
“Just a bond.” He shook his head, looking a bit overwhelmed with the explanation for a moment. “We marry, too, but mating is more common. Easier to dissolve. You settle in together, take care of one another. Usually, you end up having kits.”
She turned her head to the side, now avoiding his gaze as she looked down the alley. “If you’re so casual about taking someone to your bed, how do you know you haven’t abandoned kits in every port?”
“There are precautions you can take with humans. I never bothered with you, since you’re—” He paused, as if he were holding something back, then continued. “—since I thought you were ratkin and would tell me when to be careful.”
That brought her eyes back to him again. “What difference does that make?”
“A doe—ratkin female—can tell when she’s ready to conceive. Once a month or so, she has a heat cycle. I suppose her mother teaches her the signs and all of that. I honestly don’t know, since I wasn’t raised alongside any girls. So I assumed you’d tell me when to use precautions. By the time I knew you wouldn’t be able to tell…” He trailed off, shrugging. “If I’d been paying attention, maybe I could have known on my own. Your scent changes a bit. You become more alluring.”
She wanted to ask him more questions, ask him how he could be so free with whom he bedded when it was apparently such a taboo for ratkin to not stay close to their offspring. Was it truly any different from any other sailor, though? Her parents had kept her sheltered from the rougher side of Jamaica, but she had heard plenty when she served aboard the Black Pride. She had learned more about how disgusting men could be in a few weeks than she had in her entire nineteen years leading up to it.
“Fine then. That woman is an old lover of yours. You’ve had many of them. It shouldn’t matter at all to me, should it?” There was little venom in her words this time. Instead, the hurt that she kept carefully hidden behind a shield of anger was sneaking out. She lowered her lashes as she stared down at his chest and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Let me go. This is stupid, Liam. You’re here for Donny, not me. I don’t see the good in spending time alone. It just confuses things.”
“Was it confusion that brought you back to my bed?”
She raised her head to look at him again. Tears were threatening at her eyes and her throat had closed. Nothing could tempt her more than to have him beside her every morning and to fall asleep in his arms every night. To know where he would be and that it would always be at her side. For all that her father had left a little orphan boy to be raised at sea, Donovan O’Cullane had still likely spent more time with Liam than he had with Brigid. He had told Liam more truths. More of his own family secrets. She had spent her entire life waiting for her father to retire and come home, and instead he was buried at sea somewhere. No matter how her father had insisted it was for the good of their family, it had still felt like abandonment every time he left for weeks at a time, having only been home a handful of days in comparison. All Liam could offer was another lifetime of abandonment.
“When you left me in New Providence,” she began, her voice hoarse and choked around the words, “it was my worst fear realized. Only confusion could make me risk that pain again.”
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