“Liam McTavish, I’d like to introduce you to Derek Simmons, the Earl of Blackburn and Gabriel Hawke, the Duke of Hawkescliffe.”
Liam bowed respectfully to the men. “Gentleman, this is one of my most loyal agents thus far,” Mack said with a clap on Liam’s back.
A man in royal livery opened a door, and all the men quickly straightened. “His Royal Highness would like to have a word with the Earl of Southerby.”
Edward was allowed access, and the door was promptly shut. The remaining six men looked at one another warily. “Does anyone have any idea what is going on here?” Liam asked and then realized he was demanding information of a duke and an earl. “I apologize, Your Grace, my lord,” he bowed respectfully.
“Think nothing of it,” the Earl of Blackburn said jovially. “I was wondering the same thing.”
“With him you never know,” Liam thought he heard the duke mutter to the earl. Both men started laughing.
The men spent the next quarter of an hour attempting to guess why they were here, without having one of Prinny’s servants overhear. Finally that same liveried footman made another appearance.
“Gentlemen, if you will all come with me.” The group followed the servant into a room that was richly decorated. The Prince sat in a chair with his feet propped up on a small stool. Edward stood off to one side where he could watch the proceedings. Liam studied him, trying to get a read on him as to what this was about, but Edward Southerby was a cool one.
“Your Highness,” the men said in unison, bowing respectfully.
“Enough of that,” the Prince waved the men to stand. “I’m sure you’re wondering why it’s I brought you here at this ungodly hour. Well, let me assure you it isn’t because I’ve spent the country’s coffers or any such thing.” He laughed boisterously as several of them turned a deep shade of red. “You’re right, Edward, they’re quite easy to taunt, quite uptight indeed.”
The entire group stiffened as if they had been chastised.
“Enough of this.” He nodded at someone and a man dressed in clergy robes, carrying a sword entered the room as well. “The lot of you have done a great deal for this country. You have sacrificed time after time, some of you more than others. Some of you had family that suffered along with you. I cannot give you back your years of service to this country and I know that you would be offended if I did, for you served because you love this land and you wanted to protect her from invaders.
“So, today, in this private ceremony witnessed by myself, our Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, I am bestowing on each of you a knighthood for your service to the country.” Once each of them had been knighted, the Prince continued, “Lord Wulfe, Director McKenzie, and Mr. McTavish, if you will each step forward.” The three did. “I cannot say enough about what the three of you have endured for this country and you should be rewarded for your actions.”
All three men shook their heads.
“There’ll be no arguing for it’s already been done. It is only fitting that three titles that were attached to traitors against this country be reborn with men who are everything that this country should stand for—truth, honor, and loyalty. Lord Wulfe, although you have the honorary title of ‘lord’ because you are the second son of a duke, you also deserve to have your own title. For uncovering an assassination plot against me, you are now the Earl of Roddingham and all titles associated with said title.” Prinny passed a rolled parchment, to him and shook his hand.
“McTavish.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“It is my understanding you have suffered greatly at the hands of our enemies.”
“I only did what any other man would do in my place.”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’m afraid you did much more, and for that I am naming you the Earl of Brookdale and all titles associated with said title,” he said passing a scroll of papers to Liam similar in appearance to those that Wulfe held.
Liam could not explain why, but for some reason the papers felt extraordinarily heavy in his hand.
“And you, Director McKenzie. You have served these men as a leader. Your strategic planning and placement of men and women as agents of the realm may have singlehandedly saved this country from that French barbarian. So on you, Stuart McKenzie, I bestow the title, Duke of Hanaford and all titles associated with said title.” The prince handed a scroll of papers to Mack.
“Your Highness, this isn’t necessary,” Mack said, for once in his life looking dumbfounded.
“It is extremely necessary and long past due. Don’t you agree, Liverpool?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Hawkescliffe, what do you say? Does your brother deserve this title?”
“Absolutely, Your Highness,” the Duke of Hawkescliffe responded, sounded somewhat choked.
All of a sudden the three men standing behind them clapped, whistled, and called “huzzah.”
“All of you have been monetarily rewarded by the crown as well.” He nodded and a meek looking man handed each man an envelope. “Knowing how you feel about being honored in front of large crowds led me to this private meeting with all of you. However, I am going to have to present the newest members of the beau monde to your peers. There is going to be a ball held in honor of this bloody war being over. I expect you all to be present.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” they all grudgingly mumbled.
“Good, now you may leave.”
The men bowed respectfully and turned to leave when Liam remembered the archbishop. He looked at his future father-in-law who patted his side, indicating he had the necessary papers. Liam nodded and continued on. Once he reached the door, a thought occurred to him and he hesitated.
“Your Highness, might I have a private word with you?”
“What is it Brookdale?”
Liam hesitated, taken aback at being called anything but McTavish or one of his many aliases. The other men left the room. He quickly explained his problem, which the Prince waved away.
“It’ll be my pleasure to take care of this. It’s the least I can do. Give that man all the information, and it will be done.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” he said. He told the man all he needed to know and slipped out of the room.
The men were congratulating one another and the three that had earned titles still looked shocked.
“Welcome to the titled class,” Hawkescliffe said, laughing boisterously. “The world of tenants, estates, and Parliament.” All the men groaned aloud wondering if it was an honor or a curse. Liam watched as Hawkescliffe approached Director McKenzie, no Lord Hanaford and gave him a giant bear hug. “Prinny was right, this has been a long time coming, big brother.”
Edward gave his son a hug full of pride and then did the same with Liam. “What went on in there?” the older man asked Liam.
“Megan’s keeping Legend.”
“That’s the best wedding present you could give her,” he said. “Gentlemen, let’s go to White’s and celebrate!”
Chapter 12
Megan heard familiar voices coming up the lane. “Hamrick, take over,” she ordered before approaching the men. “Where have the two of you been? Mama’s been worried sick about you, Da’.”
“And have you been worried about me?” Liam asked Megan.
“Not likely,” she lied. She had hardly been able to function she had been so worried about him. She had wondered if, while gone, he would somehow escape from her father and leave once more, never to be seen again. Would she ever be able to trust that if he left he would return? Would he ever be able to make that promise to her?
“Now is that any way to treat your future husband and the Earl of Brookdale?” Liam taunted.
“Who’s the Earl of Brookdale?”
“I am,” Liam said as he dismounted Draco.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Yes, madam, I have,” he said.
“Da’ you were supposed to watch him and keep him out of tr
ouble.”
“I did,” he said. “I was drinking, as well.”
“Here.” Liam handed over the scroll of papers that Prinny had given him. He kept the paper about Legend’s ownership tucked away in the inner pocket of his superfine.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Megan did so and scanned the document. “It’s a forgery.”
“Don’t be so skeptical, daughter. I witnessed the entire event. Not only was your future husband knighted for his service to the country, but he was also granted the title Earl of Brookdale and all the titles, lands, and monies associated with it.”
“Truly?” Megan asked, unable to hide the skeptical tone that still lingered in her voice.
“Yes,” Liam said.
“Congratulations, my lord,” she said sarcastically and slammed the paperwork into his chest. She drew back quickly causing him to either grab it or let it fall to the ground. “Now you finally have something to show for the last five years.” She stormed back to the track.
“I think she might still be a bit angry,” Liam told Edward.
“I think you’re very astute, son,” Edward agreed.
* * *
“Daughter, it’s time,” Edward announced after walking down to the track later that afternoon.
“We really don’t have to go through with this,” Megan said.
“Yes, we do. If not for these past few weeks, then to make up for five years ago.”
“You think by exchanging vows now, it will make up for past events? Da’ you’re a wise man and I expected more from you. You realize you’re consigning two people to years of misery.”
“I doubt that.”
“And what if I find some man that I fall in love with or he falls in love with me?”
“You never got over Liam, and in my opinion, you’ll never find a man that loves you more than Liam McTavish.”
“Then why did he leave?”
“That is something that only he can answer over time. Meggy, I want you to know that this is not a punishment.”
“Then what is it, Da’?” she argued. “He obviously doesn’t want me. Did Justin tell you that Liam left the first day he was there?”
“Yes, and that he went back. Princess, you need to show him patience, like you would a wild horse,” her father put it into terms she would understand. “He no longer trusts easily, and he’s haunted by events in his past. I know the two of you are meant to be together, you just need time and incentive.”
“And what would you consider as an incentive?”
“Not wanting to be miserable for the rest of your natural life.”
“I’m tired of fighting everyone. Let’s just get this over with.” Within the hour she was no longer the Dowager Countess of Dalmore, but rather the Countess of Brookdale. No longer did she wear Dalmore’s ring. It had been replaced with a simple gold band that Liam slid on her finger during the ceremony. They were all eating around the table and she caught herself on several occasions making the plain band flash in the candlelight. At the end of the meal her parents announced they would be retiring for the night since they would have to start their travel back to London early the next morning.
They all retired to their rooms. Megan had stripped down to her chemise when a knock sounded on her bedroom door. She quickly pulled her wrap on, crossed to the door, and opened it. Liam stood on the other side.
“Do you know where my things are?”
“What?”
“My things are gone.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Feel free to have a look.” He waited at the door while Megan went down the hall and disappeared into a room and then just as quickly returned.
“What tricks are you up to?”
“I’m not up to any tricks. My things have disappeared.”
Megan’s eyes grew wide as a realization hit her. “Oh, no, she wouldn’t.” She crossed to a second large wardrobe in the room that had stood empty since they had inhabited the old hunting lodge. She threw the doors wide and there was Liam’s wardrobe. “I believe this is your wardrobe.”
“I’ll just take my clothes for tomorrow and have them moved back later.”
“No.”
“What?”
“If I know my mother, she’s going to be watching and waiting. No, you’ll stay in here for tonight.”
“I’d rather not,” he said, thinking of the nightmares that constantly plagued him.
“We don’t have a choice. My parents will be watching to see what we do. Now, surely we can survive one night together.”
“I’ll sleep in the chair.”
“Take the coverlet.” She proceeded to douse the lights. Megan slipped out of her robe and beneath the blankets of her bed still wearing her chemise. Two thuds reached her ears indicating that Liam had removed his boots. There was a bit of shuffling before silence settled in the room. “I suppose this isn’t how you thought to spend your wedding night,” Megan observed.
“The last few years had me believing I wouldn’t be marrying at all, so yes, it’s a bit of a shock.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Perhaps we should get some sleep,” he interrupted.
* * *
“No, I won’t tell you. Go ahead. You think that hurt?”
Liam’s words drifted to Megan, waking her from her sleep.
“Not there, not again,” he groaned. “No more.”
“Liam, wake up,” Megan hissed. He continued mumbling nonsensical words. Megan threw back the covers and walked to the chair only to find it empty. Looking around, she found him lying on the floor at the foot of her bed. The coverlet was wrapped tightly about him, cocooning him so he could hardly move. “Shhh,” Megan crept to him and bent down to pull him free of the blanket. As soon as she freed him, she found herself flipped and pinned to the hard floor.
“No more!” he growled.
This time there were no hands wrapped around her neck keeping her from studying the man above her. The man who’s face revealed a look of torture she had never before seen on another human. “Liam,” she whispered. When it looked like he would remain trapped in his nightmare, and she trapped between him and the floor, she decided she must do something to free them both. She wiggled until her arms were between them and within seconds she found her arms pinned above her head. “Let me go,” she struggled against his hold.
“How’s it feel, you French swine?” he taunted.
Megan slipped one hand free of his grip and hooked it around his neck, pulling him down to her. She brushed her lips lightly over his. Sensations she had not felt in years rushed through her. She returned to lightly nibble at his bottom lip.
“Megan,” he moaned. “They can’t take your memory from me.”
She pulled him down to her, forcing him to accept her ministrations. Soon she found her other arm was free and entwined both around Liam’s neck. She felt his large hand caressing her cheek and tilting her head back so they could more fully plunder one another. Feelings Megan had suppressed for five long years coursed through her, reminding her what it was like to be fully alive. To be a woman.
“Just a dream,” Liam muttered against her lips.
“No, not a dream,” Megan corrected as his hand traveled farther down her body. She felt the warm weight of it on her breast, which caused a responding tingle low in her pelvis. Megan shivered when he gently squeezed the soft fullness. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to plunder at will. She accepted the parry and thrust, and countered his every move. Heat coursed through her body, and she felt his manhood push urgently against her pelvis. Megan reveled in the closeness after years of being separated. “Liam,” she whispered as he dropped kisses along her neck.
Megan shimmied until she pulled her chemise over her head. She attacked the buttons on his shirt, spreading it wide until she could press her body to his. She reveled in the feel of his springy chest hair against her sensitive breasts. Megan wrapped herself around L
iam’s long frame, pulling him closer, if possible. Her body pulsed with excitement. The years melted away as if they had never been apart from one another.
Megan reached between them to loosen the buttons on his placket and she found her hands pinned to the floor beside her head. His body stiffened, but she could tell desire no longer ruled him. There was a brittleness to him that had not been there earlier. Megan lifted up to kiss him once more, to lure him back into her seduction of him, but his hands remained like manacles about her wrist. She swept her legs beneath his and twisted so that they were now laying side by side, staring at one another.
The sudden movement jarred Liam out of his dreamworld and into reality. She watched as he blinked his eyes and took stock of his surroundings. She knew when he saw her and her nudity, because his eyes widened in shock.
“Cover yourself,” he ordered as he propped himself up to a sitting position. He rubbed his hand over his face and shifted as he realized he had an erection causing him some discomfort.
Megan pulled the coverlet around her with her knees drawn up to her chest. She studied him intently from where she sat on the floor. “I don’t understand. You always liked me naked before. Liked to gaze upon me. We were—”
“It was a mistake. I was caught up in a nightmare turned dream.”
“A dream?”
“Yes.”
“I’m willing to make it a reality,” she said bluntly.
“I’m not.”
“Why not? We’re married. Don’t you think enough time has passed? Haven’t you missed this? I have. We’ve lost five years—”
“Bloody hell, can you not let it go?” He stood and crossed to the wardrobe that had his clothes in it.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m moving back to my room.”
She stood and blocked his way to the door. She loosened her grip on the coverlet and let it fall to the floor. “Think very carefully, husband. Are you certain you want to do that?” She watched him visibly struggle to swallow. His breathing turned rapid and shallow. “Do you truly want to walk away from this?” she asked huskily.
Enticing the Weary Warrior Page 14