With a sob, and on a veritable storm of emotion, she leaned down and put her mouth on his.
And just as the last time, it felt like pure magic. Her lips fit his, her heart did, and her spirit.
This time she did not need to give him breath—he still had his own. This time she needed to give him her love.
His lips parted beneath hers; her tongue slipped into his mouth. His hands came up and cradled her face.
Liam. She exhaled his name, and he caught the breath and returned it to her. Clara.
She began to pull away then, but he prevented it. His hands slid to the back of her head and he drew her closer, kissed her more deeply, and she melted into him, helpless.
Things began to get very warm indeed before the door behind Clara clicked open.
“Oh!” Georgina sounded startled. “He’s come to, then?”
Clara withdrew from Liam’s embrace, though it hurt physically to do so. She met Georgina’s embarrassed gaze.
“Er—would you like me to—” Georgina gestured at the door with the basin she carried.
“No. We’d better patch up this wound on his head.”
Liam attempted to sit up, grimaced, and subsided back onto the couch.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that. Dax brought you home.” Clara swallowed the reproaches she wanted to voice about him having left her in the night.
“Wait. It’s coming back to me.” Again he tried to sit up and made it this time, though he paled drastically. “Ah—my head. I remember now. The mechanical doorman clubbed me.”
“Mechanical doorman?”
“From Sterling House. There were two of them—came after me. Cornered me up against a wall. You say Dax was there? I don’t remember that part.”
“He came home carrying you.” When had Dax become a “he” rather than an “it”?
“Let me speak to him.”
“Not right now. He’s damaged, and the lads are working on him. Let’s see that head.”
The next few minutes were unpleasant for everyone concerned. Liam swore woefully as Clara examined the cut on his scalp, sponged the blood from his hair, and gave him several stitches.
“Now,” she said when she had finished and stood washing her hands. “I want an explanation.”
Georgina slipped quietly from the room.
Clara fixed her husband with a hard stare. “And don’t bother lying to me. Admit the truth—you went out last night looking for vengeance.”
Chapter Nineteen
“If you already know the answer, why ask?” Liam wondered disagreeably. He hurt all over, some places far more than others, and still tingled from that kiss they’d exchanged—some places more than others.
He eyed his wife, trying to gauge her mood. She looked like an enraged pixie, greenish eyes wide and distressed, hair still messed from her bed. Just that word—bed—in conjunction with her had his cock interested, but he sought mightily to disregard it.
“This is because of what Ruella told you, isn’t it? You went out looking for retribution.”
“No.” Retribution would take some planning and, obviously, greater care than he’d employed this night. “I just wanted to get a look at the man who murdered me.” He slid off the examination couch and paced the floor. “Do you know what it’s like not even remembering the face of the bastard who took my life?”
Clara backed off a step. “And did you see him?”
“I did.” Liam stopped pacing. “And he saw me—and sent his mechanical henchmen after me.”
“He recognized you, then.”
“Oh, aye.”
Clara drew a breath, and her gaze burned on his. “So if Dax hadn’t turned up, you’d have ended up in the river after all.”
Liam didn’t know what to say. He could sense her emotions surging, anger and a whole lot more he couldn’t quite bring himself to identify. And she was right, damn it.
He reached out almost gingerly and caught her shoulders between his hands. She stiffened when he touched her; he knew she would not be easily mollified.
“Clara, I know what I did was risky.”
“Risky? It was suicidal!”
“Reckless, perhaps. But what would you have me do? The man’s after murdering people for his own gain. My countrymen. Am I supposed to turn a blind eye to that?”
She stiffened further; her chin came up. “And what about me?”
“Eh?”
“No, you didn’t give me or my situation a thought, did you? You didn’t consider the risks I’m taking in this or how much rests on the success of this charade we play.”
Charade? Was that all it meant to her—their marriage, their partnership? Was his presence in her bed just a temporary measure till her grandfather’s demands were met? What would happen then to the ties he felt binding him to her? Would she dismiss him, cast him off?
His entire being protested it. Without her, he would be lost—far more so than when he’d awakened on her worktable with nothing.
He doubted he’d ever been a humble man, but he knew he’d get on his knees and beg her now, if it meant she’d let him stay.
“I am that sorry,” he told her. “I did not think on that part of it.”
“You do realize you may have scuttled our plans? We won’t know till Dax is operable whether he was followed bringing you back here.”
“Aye, and what can Maynard do? He’s not likely to admit he’s seen the ghost of a man he murdered.”
“To whom must he admit it? He’s capable of coming after you in secret. You’ve endangered this entire household—Georgina and the children.”
“Nay, but listen—I know his motive now. That place, Sterling House, it’s a den of iniquity. There’s a bare-breasted girl in the bar, and Maynard was involved in a high-stakes poker game when I arrived.”
“What did you say?”
“Heaps of money on the table. It explains why he’s after lining his pockets, don’t you see? He must be desperate for the green and living well above his means.”
Clara’s eyes blazed. “Bare-breasted?”
Liam’s brain belatedly caught up with his tongue. “Aye, so she was. Decadent sort of place, as I say, the sort a man couldn’t resist—”
“So, you can’t resist a pair of naked breasts?”
Liam doubted many red-blooded men could, but he wasn’t quite foolish enough to say it. He began to think it would be harder than he’d expected to beguile his wife.
“Ah, now,” he dropped his voice, “she was there. I had to look. But,” he added with absolute veracity, “she wasn’t a patch on you.”
“Get away from me.” She flung his hands from her shoulders and turned from him. “I should have known.”
“Known what? Clara, lass, look at me.”
“It’s no use crooning at me in that accent of yours, or making false compliments.”
“False? You must know what you do to me.” He melted in her arms, combusted almost instantly when she looked at him.
She walked to the window, where she stood rigid, gazing out at nothing. “I thought I did. But it becomes apparent that charm is a deceptive commodity. And you have charm in spades.”
“So, you’re after calling me deceptive?” Liam’s voice rose. “I have not been anything but honest with you, as honest as a man with no past can be.”
“Were you honest when you crept from my bed?”
“Well—”
“How do I know anything you have said is honest?” She did whirl to face him then, her stare accusing and her eyes disconcertingly filled with tears. “Yes, I should have known.”
Liam swallowed hard. “Known what?”
“That a man like you”—her gaze swept him head to foot—“could have no use for a woman like me.”
Liam felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, all the breath knocked from him. If she failed to believe him, then what had it meant all those times he’d rocked her in his arms an
d whispered in her ear? Through stiff lips he asked, “And what are you like, then?”
She waved her hands in a comprehensive gesture. “Look at me! I’m no beauty. Absolutely nothing to recommend me. I’ve never cared about my appearance.” Until now. But those words remained unsaid.
Liam wondered how to convince her she was wrong. “Listen, Clara, what I did last night—creeping away—had nothing to do with you or how much I desire you. Christ! I should think that would be plain to see; I’m fully raised every time I’m near you.”
She looked away, her face tight. “I would appreciate it if you do not betray my trust again.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“Not for my sake but for those beneath my roof, for whom I’m responsible. The only point of this farcical marriage was to provide for them. Until Theodore has had a chance to finalize the legal details, I’d rather you didn’t leave this house. Once the terms have been satisfied—”
“What then?” he prompted, both head and heart pounding.
“We will dissolve the marriage, and you’ll be free to go and pursue whatever revenge you choose.”
Liam’s mouth went dry. “That’s what you want, to be shed of me?”
Still she did not look at him but stared away to the window, her face set. “That’s what was always intended.”
“Aye but—what of what we’ve been to each other?”
“And what is that?”
He said hoarsely, “Lovers.”
She did look at him then, her gaze a raised weapon. “We are not lovers, Mr. McMahon.”
“We sure as hell are.”
“Just because we have had physical relations, that does not make us lovers. Lovers, in fact, care for one another. They love. What you and I have shared is a certain amount of pleasure, no more.”
“No more?” he echoed like a damned parrot. He felt suddenly, hopelessly, at sea without a clue how to deal with her. “That’s all I’ve been to you? A fecking dildo?”
“Can I have your promise you won’t leave this house again before the legal details are secured? It shouldn’t be more than a few days.”
“Why bother to ask for my promise, if my word means nothing to you?”
“I would hate to have to lock you in the cellar again.”
He squared up. “I would like to see you try.”
“You’re right, of course. I won’t appeal to you on my behalf. But for the sake of those in my care—?”
“I’ll go nowhere, since you ask.”
“Fine, then. I’ll send word at once to Theodore. Until we part ways, I think it best if I move back to my old room.”
He did want to fall down then, it hit him so hard.
“Ah, now, Clara, you don’t want to do that. I’m sorry I upset you, lass—”
“Hold the blarney. It has no effect on me.”
She lied. Something affected her—either him or her own anger; her normally alabaster skin had flushed, and her eyes glittered.
He drew another ragged breath. “Look, Clara—you’re right, I never should have gone off that way. It was fecking boneheaded. But it’s not been easy, this, taking up a life when I can remember nothing, and it hit me hard that the bastard, Maynard, is still doing the same thing to others and getting away with it. But don’t pull away from me. If you do, I’ll have nothing.”
In answer, she slipped past him and out the door, shutting it firmly in her wake.
Chapter Twenty
Clara’s head ached unbearably, but not so much as her heart. She’d arisen from her solitary bed at dawn after a sleepless night and tiptoed out to the door of her father’s bedroom—Liam’s now—where she stood listening intently. Was he inside? Had he left her after their quarrel, perhaps for good? She stood for an untold number of heartbeats, breath caught, until she heard him stir in the bed, and then stole away.
All through breakfast, getting the children fed and started on their day, and the arrival of Cassie, her mood did not improve. Nor did her husband put in an appearance. She could only assume he remained in the big upstairs bedroom, languishing in the bed, where she ached to be.
At length she sat in the parlor, with Cassie gathered in her lap and clinging like a barnacle. She’d thought contact with the child, who sought her out so determinedly, might help fill the terrible emptiness inside, but somehow it just seemed to emphasize Liam’s absence.
She heard the peal of the front doorbell and Georgina’s quick steps going in answer. That would be Theodore coming to discuss the legal situation and pave the way for the dissolution of her marriage.
But, though Clara could hear Theodore and Georgina talking together in soft murmurs, Georgina did not announce the attorney.
Curiosity got Clara to her feet with Cassie still in her arms. She crossed to the door, where she opened it a scarce inch and stood listening shamelessly.
“You know it’s impossible.” Georgina’s voice was low and full of certainty.
“Why? I’ve confessed how I feel—”
Georgina interrupted him. “A thousand reasons. Do I need to number them? You’re a smart man.”
“Please, Georgie, look at me.” Clara had never heard that note in Theodore’s voice. “Tell me what you truly feel about me, because I don’t think I can go on this way.”
Sympathy clutched at Clara’s heart. She’d known for some time these two felt an attraction. And she understood all too well Georgina’s reasons for refusing to act on it.
“Don’t be a fool,” Georgina said now. “You want me to look at you? Better you look at me! Only look at the difference between us.”
Theodore’s voice dropped and throbbed. “I’m a man and you’re a woman.”
“A black woman. A former servant, living on charity, no education to speak of.”
“You’re wise and compassionate, the very definition of a gentlewoman.”
“I’m not part of your class or your world.”
“I don’t care. Georgie, darling girl, I love you.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Should I keep it bottled up inside? I don’t think I can much longer. Do you think I care about the ridiculous demands of society?”
“It’s impossible, Theodore.”
“Why? We can move, start over somewhere else.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re engaged to be married.”
Those words silenced Theodore as effectively as a blow from a sledgehammer. It took a long moment before he said, “You know I didn’t choose that match.”
“No, it was chosen for you by your family. You think they’d be happy to welcome me instead?”
“I don’t care,” Theodore said again.
“Well, I do. Leave me some self-respect. I’ve no wish to be the ‘dirty darkie’ you dragged in off the street, your little bit on the side.”
“You’re none of that.”
“It’s what they’d call me.”
Another silence fell while Theodore apparently struggled with that unpalatable truth. “Ideas like that need to change,” he said then. “The world needs to change.”
“Perhaps someday people will be allowed to be together on the strength of the feelings in their hearts,” Georgina conceded, “but not yet. It’s only fifteen years since the end of the war. My people are not much more welcome here in the north than back down south.”
“So we’ll go to Canada, to Toronto.”
Georgina’s voice softened. “Would you do that for me? Give up your home and career?”
“In an instant.”
“But if I care for you, how can I possibly ask that?”
So swiftly Clara had no time to step away, Georgina made for the parlor door and flung it open, catching her in mid-eavesdrop. Georgina’s dark eyes were wide and full of pain.
“Mr. Collwys,” she announced briefly, and fled in the direction of the kitchen.
Theodore met Clara’s eyes ruefully. “I suppose you heard all that.”
“Come on in.”
Juggling the child in her arms, Clara swung the door wide. Theodore entered and shut it carefully behind him. He then sank onto the settee and put his head in his hands, pushing his fingers through his sandy hair.
“I didn’t handle that very well, did I? How in hell am I to convince her I need her in my life?”
“Breaking off your engagement might help, for starters.”
“I will. I fully intend to. But it will make such a damned hullaballoo in my family. Roanne’s the daughter of my father’s closest colleague.”
“And Georgina’s the daughter of a former slave who gave her own life to buy Georgina a better chance—which didn’t start out much better than what they knew in Georgia. You know what she suffered in that household where she worked, she and Jimmie both.”
“Yes, I know. And if Georgina would just give me an assurance we’ll be together, I wouldn’t hesitate to tear the rest of my life up by the roots. But what’s the point if she won’t have me either way?”
“The point is that she has to see you put her first before she’ll believe you love her. If you can’t understand that, there’s no hope for you.”
“Why can’t she just take my word for it?” Theodore raised a devastated face and looked at Clara. “Your Irishman seems to have no difficulty accepting that you want him.”
“Do you think?” Clara stiffened and shifted Cassie, now sleeping, against her shoulder.
Theodore gave her a long look. “Ah, so it’s that way, is it?”
“Let’s just say we need to get the legal part of things settled as soon as possible so I can dissolve my marriage.”
Theodore frowned. “I don’t think it would be wise to hurry that. Your grandfather is no fool. If he suspects this marriage is a sham, he will be sure to challenge it in court.”
The parlor door opened abruptly, and Liam came in. Even to Clara’s prejudiced eyes he looked like hell—far worse than when she’d revived him from the dead—face pale and haggard, with visible bruises, and a bandage on his head. He shot Clara one burning glance before sauntering in with an attempt at his old nonchalance.
Theodore leaped to his feet and gave Liam a comprehensive look that took in his injuries before shooting Clara another stare. “Mr. McMahon.” He held out his hand.
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