Ava’s lips pursed, and she slowly unfolded the note and began to skim the words.
“She apologizes for breaking our bargain for her to stay here until all was resolved with you and offers to pay Christian back for certain expenses she feels he might have incurred.”
Liam flinched. “How very businesslike of her.”
Ava looked at him before continuing. “Not really. Let me read you this: ‘You guessed my heart in London, Ava, so you must understand how utterly painful returning to Bath is to me. I have spent my time since my return haunted by memories and battered by regrets. If I stay, this will only grow worse, I fear, as I know your brother’s feelings toward me will not change, even if his connection to you can be reformed. I pray it will be, for I know he needs you.’”
Liam stiffened even as Ava smiled at him. “You see, she is not businesslike at all and thinks of you often and with great depth.”
“Yes,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, a bit,” Ava said. “‘If you do manage to soften your brother’s ear enough to hear you, I hope you will convey to him how deeply I am sorry that he was hurt or betrayed by my actions. I never should have gone so far, nor allowed myself to become so involved. Because of this, I must now live with the great and permanent consequences of my actions. I appreciate all the kindness you have shown to me and I remain…’” Ava stopped reading. “And it goes on et cetera, et cetera before she signs it with what appears to be a very shaky hand.”
Ava held the letter out, but Liam shook his head. “I cannot look at it.”
She frowned but did not insist, and merely placed the pages back where Violet had left them such a short time ago. She folded her arms.
“You know where she is going don’t you?” Ava didn’t wait for him to respond. “Even if you don’t, I do.”
He bent his head. “I know where she is going. I know why as well.”
“Then what will you do, Liam?” Ava moved toward him a step.
He thought of that question, but didn’t answer it. “In her letter, she mentions that you guessed her heart in London. What did she mean?”
Ava bit her lip and seemed to be considering that question. “You shouldn’t hear this from me.”
“Please,” he said. “Consider it an act of good faith to repair the damage done by your meddling.”
Ava nodded slowly. “Very well,” she said, voice low and a little broken. “When she came to London, I confronted her with the fact that she loves you.”
Liam reeled once again as his stare came to Ava’s face. He knew he had no color remaining in his cheeks and his eyes were likely wide as saucers. He could no more control those reactions than he could have forced himself to never take breath again by sheer act of will.
“Love me?”
His sister nodded. “Yes, Liam. Violet loves you. And I believe you love her. So I ask you again—what you will do with that knowledge?”
He pondered the question and finally walked away to the window.
“Violet Milford has spent a lifetime being controlled and forced and hurt. She may love me, but there is no doubt from her words that the feelings bring her nothing but pain and heartache. So I believe that it might be best to simply let her to her new life. Let her go to the life she has dreamed of for years. She deserves peace. She deserves that more than anything.”
He turned to find his sister staring at him, a hand covering her mouth in shock. Slowly, she lowered it and her face was filled with disbelief.
“You would turn away from love, Liam?” she asked.
He nodded, though he felt no pleasure or happiness or even peace in that agreement to her statement.
“Yes,” he choked out. “After seeing all the damage that emotion can do, I think it is my only choice. No matter how deeply that wounds me.”
“Liam,” she began, her arguments clear in her eyes.
He held up a hand and smiled at her kindly. “Please, Ava. Let this go. I have done nothing to deserve Violet. And my decision is not one that will change. But I do not wish to discuss it further.”
He turned and moved to the door. “Now I must return to the estate, for I have much to plan.”
“Plan?” his sister said with tears in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If I am to return to London, there is much to be readied.”
He saw her smile even though her face was still pale, and he walked away with that as his last vision of her. There was nothing else to be said or decided anymore.
It was over, and he had to accept that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Violet smiled as she watched Peter wade into the cool water at the mouth of the cove and splash about madly, his shrieking laughter cutting through the air to where she sat on the sand. It had been a month since her arrival in Romwell and they were still growing accustomed to one another.
Mrs. Wilcox, who had been taking care of him since his birth, had ensured he knew about her and read her letters to him religiously. But he still ran to the other woman when he skinned a knee or needed a snuggle. That stung, but Violet was ready to accept it. These things took time. And Peter was a sweet child, full of love that he gave to her freely. She had no doubt he would one day accept her fully and come to feel she was his mother, not just say it.
She wished that was not the only thing she thought time would fix. Her heart was another matter.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy. She loved the cottage she had purchased, she loved waking up in the same house as her son, she loved having her freedom.
But she dreamed of Liam every night, she thought of him every day.
“Because you are a foolish girl,” she muttered to herself, rising as Peter came running out of the water, shaking his wet hair as he headed toward her and her towel.
“Mummy, look!” he said, holding out a shell. “An oyster. Do you think there’s a pearl inside?”
She wrapped the big towel around his slender frame and pulled him into her lap. He tucked into her arms perfectly and continued to hold the oyster toward her.
“We would have to get it open to see,” she said, looking at the little shell like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “How do you suppose we could do that?”
“I have a pocket knife,” came a man’s voice behind them.
Violet’s heart lurched into her throat, and she turned to look at the man who matched the voice she knew so well. There was Liam, up on a horse, staring down at her with intensity.
This was a dream. It had to be a dream. He couldn’t really be here, standing with her, staring at her with an expression that was so gentle and kind, yet so possessive and charged with desire that her whole body reacted without any leave from her mind.
Slowly, she pushed to her feet, lifting Peter with her, and stared at him.
“Liam,” she breathed, incapable of saying anything else.
He nodded, seemingly calm, as if they were meeting by chance and there was nothing in the world odd about it.
“Violet.” Then he smiled. “And this must be young master Peter.”
Violet shook as she set Peter on his feet on the sand. He leaned into her slightly, seeking comfort as he gazed up at the handsome stranger on the horse.
“Who is this, Mummy?” he whispered, but loudly enough that Liam couldn’t help but hear. He laughed in response.
She smiled as she took Peter’s hand, offering the reassurance she couldn’t give to herself as she fought to breathe while she looked at Liam.
“This is…this is a friend of mine, love. Lord Windbury.”
Liam swung down from the horse and stepped forward, holding out a hand. Peter watched him warily, his gaze holding on Liam’s face.
“You have a scar,” he pointed out with the perfect clarity and lack of self-awareness that only a child under a certain age could get away with.
Violet stiffened, watching Liam for his reaction. She knew what emotions that scar carried for him. But to his surprise, Li
am took one knee before her son and smiled.
“I do indeed, my friend. Quite a sight, isn’t it?”
Liam being at his level seemed to make Peter more comfortable and, to Violet’s surprise, he reached out and rubbed a wet, sandy thumb over Liam’s cheek, feeling the raised surface with wonderment.
“Are you a pirate?” he asked.
Liam grinned, and Violet’s stomach flipped at the sight. He seemed so…light with her son. There was an easiness to him she had never seen before. And she liked it so very much, despite how fleeting it had to be. His coming here could bode for nothing good, considering how things had been left between them.
“Ask your mother,” Liam said.
Peter looked up at her. “Is he?”
She smiled and shot a quick glance toward Liam. “He is a rogue, but not a pirate. Though the two could very well be related.”
Peter twisted his mouth a little. “No, I think he’s a pirate.”
“Then a pirate I shall be,” Liam said with a shrug. “Do you think you might sign on to be my first mate? I need someone to swab decks and manage the affairs of the crew.”
Peter seemed to consider that. “Maybe when I’m six.”
He arched a brow. “When will you be six?”
“November,” he said with a wide grin.
“I will look forward to your application at that time, then,” Liam said with a smart salute.
Violet’s heart ached as she watched them interact. Peter was smiling so widely and Liam treated him with respect and care that many men of his class would not have done with a whore’s bastard son.
But then, Liam wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known before. It was why she loved him, even though it was an impossibility.
“Peter, Mrs. Wilcox is coming right now,” she said, looking down the little path out of the cove. The woman was hustling up, watching Liam with a wariness that spoke so very highly of her. “Would you like to go with her and get dressed?”
Peter wrinkled his brow. “Will you come?”
“I will walk you to her, but I must speak to Lord Windbury,” she said, meeting Liam’s eyes. “He has come a long way to talk to me. But I will return in just a little while and we can have our tea.”
The boy seemed to ponder that and then he nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said softly to Liam.
Liam nodded. “I’ll wait.”
“Goodbye, sir,” Peter said as he tossed the towel from his shoulders, released Violet’s hand and began to sprint toward Mrs. Wilcox.
Violet shook her head, smiling despite herself and picked up the towel before she followed him. When she reached the older woman, Peter was already chattering to Mrs. Wilcox.
“—and he’s a pirate,” he concluded.
“Is he?” Mrs. Wilcox said with a meaningful look toward Violet.
Violet shrugged. “A man from before,” she said.
Mrs. Wilcox nodded. “When Tom Higgins told me he’d sent a stranger who was looking for you down to the cove, I raced here to make sure he wasn’t giving you no bother.”
“He isn’t,” Violet said with a quick glance over her shoulder.
In the distance, Liam was shaking out the sandy blanket. His movements were graceful and fit the long, lean form that made her want him so very badly.
“Handsome devil,” Mrs. Wilcox said with a whistle.
Violet ignored that. “I need to speak with him. Will you take Peter back and help him get dressed? I could be an hour or more.”
Mrs. Wilcox nodded and Peter easily slid his hand into hers. “See you later, Mummy!”
She bent to kiss his forehead. “I’ll be up soon, love.” As they began to turn, she mouthed thank you to Mrs. Wilcox and then drew a deep breath before she faced Liam again.
To her surprise, he had plunked himself down on the blanket a hundred yards away and now leaned back on his elbows, watching her as she walked toward him.
This was as good a place to talk to him as any, despite being out in the open. The cove was almost entirely private, for few knew of its existence at all. There were rumors that the servants in the area came down here to bathe nude at night, it was so secluded.
Now swimming nude with Liam was all she could think about as she crossed the final few feet to him and dropped to her knees on the blanket.
“Liam,” she whispered.
He didn’t allow her to say more. He sat up, cupped the back of her head and drew her against him for a deep, probing kiss that made everything she might have said to him melt away in an instant.
It had been little more than a month since she last touched him, but it felt like an eternity had passed. She was starved for him. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around him and molding her body to his as he lowered her back on the blanket and continued to kiss her with such tender passion.
His hand slid down, cupping her breast gently as she arched up into the touch without shame. God, how she had missed this. And even though she knew she should stop him, she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her need was too desperate to do anything but fully surrender to it.
He began to unbutton her gown, and she gasped as his fingers slipped into the space he had created. Even through her chemise his hand was hot, heavy against her. She moaned as he found his way beneath the flimsy fabric and stroked a thumb over her distended nipple.
“God, I missed you,” he muttered against her neck as he sucked there, continuing to pluck her nipples until she thought she might go mad. “I missed this.”
“Please,” she urged, cupping his backside with her hands and drawing him closer. “I need you.”
He stared down at her, face filled with wonder. Then he nodded and the expression changed to one of more desperate drive. He slid her beneath him and hiked her skirts up around her waist. She opened her legs without hesitation and he slid his hand between them, finding the parting of her drawers so that he could slide a finger across the slick opening of her sex.
“God, you are ready,” he grunted.
She cupped his face gently and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I have been ready for you for weeks.”
He said nothing else, but fumbled at his trouser waist. Finally, he opened the buttons and his cock popped free. He positioned himself at her entrance and stared down at her, holding her gaze as he slipped inside, inch by inch, filling her to the hilt of his cock.
Once he was fully seated inside of her, he cupped her face, pressing light kisses against her lips. He was so gentle, so tender that tears filled her eyes and she clung to him.
He began to move, gently thrusting deep inside of her. It was evident he was trying to draw out the pleasure, but it had been so long since he touched her that her body had no patience. She felt the wall of her orgasm building at massively rapid speeds. She couldn’t control her body and rocked against him, crying out in broken gasps that were lost to the sound of the waves breaking on the sand behind them.
She dug her nails into his shoulders as the pleasure washed over her. Her hips thrust wildly against him, and she whispered his name into his neck as her sex fluttered with release.
He drove faster, his neck straining, and as her orgasm began to slowly fade, he grunted out his own pleasure and she felt the splash of his seed deep inside her. She drew him down, reveling in his weight, reveling in this one last happy memory that would wash away the less pleasant thoughts from their last encounter in Bath. And that would be enough.
It had to be enough. For she knew he could offer no more. She wouldn’t even ask him to do so. But she would take this.
Liam couldn’t have said how long they lay together, bodies still joined as the waves rolled in behind them in a soothing melody that matched their shared breath. Finally, though, he moved away from her, tucking himself back into his trousers as she smoothed her gown over her body.
There was no shyness as she looked at him. There wasn’t even regret, which was a fact he was pleased
about. Violet had always been pragmatic about their physical union. She never minced or pretended.
But that was Violet. Real and true, beautiful and sometimes broken.
But he so longed to fix that.
“Why did you come here?” she asked, propping herself up on her hand.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t stay away,” he admitted and felt no hesitation at the words. “I wanted to, I tried to, I forced myself to… but I kept hearing your voice in my head, seeing you in my dreams. With every hour and every day that passed, it grew louder until you were all I could think about. And I needed to see you more than I needed breath.”
Despite his confession, her expression was unreadable as she traced a small pattern of circles in the sand beside her. “Your sister told you where I was?”
He nodded. “I’d guessed Romwell because of your son, but yes, my sister and Christian gave me the full particulars so I didn’t need to roam the town, asking at every door.”
Her face jerked up. “Does that mean—?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “We have made our peace. Thanks to you.”
She bent her head but he could see relief written on her face. “I’m so happy for you, Liam. And proud that you’ve come to such a difficult reconciliation. Although I’m not certain I had anything to do with it.”
“Aren’t you?” He laughed softly. “You appeared in my life almost like magic. You flipped my world on its head. And you reminded me about the good and the beauty in this life.”
She bit her lip and refused to look at him. “And lied to you. And manipulated you.”
He slipped a finger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “No one is perfect,” he teased, hoping to lessen the tension between them.
She didn’t smile and turned away from his touch. “Liam,” she murmured. “I know you were angry with me when you realized your sister hired me. You can pretend you weren’t, but—”
“I was angry,” he agreed without hesitation. “I was furious. But I’ve come to realize that perhaps I needed manipulation, since reason wasn’t working.”
She looked at him, and there was no masking the surprise on her face at those words. “Then you don’t blame me for what transpired between us.”
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