Enticing the Weary Warrior

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “Yes, well,” Megan stuttered over her words, and felt relief when she heard Liam’s heavy footsteps behind her.

  “Well, there’ll be no more interviews today,” Liam announced.

  “Why is that?” Megan asked spinning around and standing.

  “You look a bit flushed, are you all right?” Liam asked, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” she waved him off. “What happened to all the applicants?”

  “They, like Mrs. Wood, did not take kindly to their charge being present during the interview.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “What about Annie?” Paddy asked.

  “Annie?” Liam parroted.

  “The maid?” Megan asked.

  “Aye,” the little boy nodded in agreement.

  “But she’s not a governess, little man,” Liam clarified.

  “No, but she’s nice. She sneaks me treats, and when her work is done she plays with me, and she tells me all about her brothers and sisters.”

  “Hmmm,” Liam said. “Angus,” he called for the butler who stood at attention outside the door waiting to be summoned.

  “Yes, m’lord?”

  “Angus, please tell Annie that Lady Brookdale and I would like to speak with her.”

  The young woman arrived shortly, a worried look on her face. When she saw Paddy in the chair, the look went from worry to guilt. “M’lord, m’lady,” she quickly curtsied, her head down.

  “Annie, Paddy has been telling us about you,” Liam said, though it sounded more like an accusation than anything.

  “I’m sorry,” she said worrying her hands. “I know I shouldn’t have snuck treats to the young master. I promise I won’t do it again, if you’ll please just let me keep my position.” The young maid had tears hovering on her lashes.

  “Liam, you’ve frightened her half to death,” Megan admonished her husband. She crossed to the young maid and took her by the hand and gently tugged her to sit on the settee, then joined her, putting a comforting arm around her.

  “Don’t cry, Annie,” Paddy said, climbing down from the chair and rushing to the young woman’s side. “You’re not in trouble, I want you to be my governess.”

  “Your what?” the girl asked, dumbfounded.

  “My governess. You’re nice and funny and you play with me.”

  “But I’ve no experience. I can’t even write my own name,” Annie said, distressed.

  “That can be easily remedied,” Megan said. “We can hire a tutor for both you and Paddy.”

  “Annie, why don’t you tell us about your family,” Liam said.

  “I’m the oldest of nine children, m’lord,” the young girl said. “I used to help with the children, but I took this position so I could send money home to help my parents. Papa was injured and hasn’t been able to work. They’re so proud. They won’t let the other villagers help them. They live in Woodditton.”

  “Annie, why don’t we do a trial?”

  “A trial, m’lord?” the girl asked in confusion, looking up at Liam.

  “We would let you act as governess for a fortnight. This will allow us to see how you and Paddy rub along. If at the end of the trial we’re all happy with you and your work, you would be promoted to governess. This would include being tutored in your numbers and letters, as my wife indicated, as well as a healthy raise.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” The girl raised a trembling hand to her mouth. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

  “We’d keep you on in your current position,” Liam answered.

  “You will also have one day off a week, and at the end of every month, two days off so that you can go see your family,” Megan added.

  “Oh, m’lady,” Annie practically sobbed.

  Megan pulled the girl into her arms and rocked her gently. “There, there,” Megan cooed softly.

  “I’ll get you a sweet biscuit, Annie,” Paddy exclaimed then dashed out of the room.

  “I’ll let Angus know of the change,” Liam said, looking uncomfortable as he slipped from the parlor.

  Soon Paddy raced back in with something held tightly in his hand. “Here Annie,” he thrust the treat under her nose.

  Megan put a gentle hand on his arm and lowered his hand. “Easy there, love,” she said.

  “But Cook said this’ll cure what ails Annie. What does that mean?” He cocked his head.

  “It means that it will make her feel better.”

  “Thank you, Paddy,” Annie sniffed.

  “Mama, does that mean Annie’ll stay in the nursery with me now?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Yay!” He jumped up and down. “That means I’ll be getting a brother or sister soon!” He continued to dance around the room.

  “Paddy,” Megan croaked.

  Annie couldn’t quite stifle the giggle that bubbled up. “Paddy, come help me pack my things and I’ll share my biscuit with you.”

  He eagerly nodded his head and took her hand, tugging her off the settee.

  Annie paused and looked at Megan. “Thank you, again, m’lady. I promise I’ll take care of him as if he were my own brother.”

  “I know you will, Annie.” Megan continued to sit on the settee in the silent room. She heard the sound of a horse cantering away from the house. She quickly stood and crossed to the window. There was no doubt in her mind what she’d see when she pulled back the curtain. Liam was once again leaving the house without telling her where he was going or when to expect him back. Frustration and irritation warred within her as well as insecurity. Did he have a mistress? Did he prefer this other woman to her? Is that why he didn’t come to her last night? Do they have a child? Is that how he knows so much about young children? Megan rested her pounding forehead against the cool glass as her world tilted on its axis.

  * * *

  The sun had fully set and the moon had begun its ascent when he arrived home. When he entered the stable, a young man came up to him and held the horse’s bridle while he dismounted. The lad started to lead Draco away, when Liam stopped him. “I’ll take care of him, you go back to your supper.”

  “Oh, no, m’lord, I’ll take care of ‘im.”

  “I want to. Besides, you wouldn’t want,” Liam paused and took a deep breath, smelling the savory scent that floated on the air, “your lamb stew to grow cold.”

  “How’d you do that?” the lad asked in awe.

  “I was always partial to a good lamb stew. Go on,” Liam encouraged the boy. The boy finally left, and Liam tied Draco to a rail so that he could remove the saddle. Then he found a brush and began working to make the horse’s coat shine. Next, he worked the knots out of his tail then brushed his mane. “You’re a right handsome fellow,” Liam said. He tossed the brush into the chest he had found it in then led Draco to his stall. Once he had him inside and his food and water pails filled, he removed the bridle and shut the stall door. The horse walked over and began to nibble delicately at the food. He stood with one booted foot propped on the bottom rail, lost in thought. A voice being cleared brought him out of his reverie.

  “M’lord, I thought you might like a bowl,” the stable lad held out a bowl of the lamb stew. “I’m sorry we don’t have better dishes.”

  “This is fine. Thank you,” Liam said. He took the bowl and quickly ate a bite. “Please give my compliments to whoever made this.”

  “Yes, m’lord. Just leave the bowl when you’re finished. I’ll take care of it when I come to check the horses.”

  “You have my thanks,” Liam said.

  The boy nodded, then slipped away once more.

  Liam shut the lid on the chest, then sat on it. He ate the hearty meal with relish. Once done, he set it aside, but did not immediately make a move to go inside. With Annie now acting as governess and sleeping in the nursery, that meant Megan would be sleeping in the room next to his all night. It was difficult enough to find excuses to stay away from her during the day, what would he do with her so close to him at night? Liam broke out in
a cold sweat just thinking about her being so close, a mere door keeping them separated. He would lock it and give Angus the key. That’s what he would do.

  He had promised himself the next time he touched her, he would tell her how he felt about her. Liam realized that he could not do that until he came to terms with his past and the nightmares dissipated. Only when he felt confident he could fully function in society and life would he touch Megan again. It was certainly not because he didn’t want to, he wanted her every waking moment. He believed he owed her more. He had to lay the past to rest for his own sake before he could move on. He only wished he had realized this before he had touched her and made love to her. Now he was addicted to her, and it was much more difficult to follow through with his plan.

  He left the stable and walked stiffly to the house. Just thinking of Megan had put his body into a painful state of arousal that screamed at him for release. As he entered the suite, his desire fought with his mind, reminding him she just lay on the other side of the door. It was like a little devil perched on his shoulder, goading him to go to her, to lose himself in the warmth of her body.

  “Shut up,” he muttered to himself before turning and entering his room. He crossed to the connecting door and locked it.

  “I started to think you were never coming home.”

  Chapter 20

  The key clattered loudly to the floor, and Liam’s head snapped up at the sound of Megan’s husky voice coming from somewhere behind him. He had a feeling if he turned around, he knew exactly where she would be.

  “Megan, please get out,” he said, facing the door and breathing heavily.

  “Turn around and look at me, then tell me to leave,” Megan challenged.

  Liam emotionally braced himself for what he would see. He slowly turned around and looked above her. “Megan, please leave.”

  “Damn you, Liam McTavish. Look at me.”

  He did then, because he knew it was the only way to get her out of his room. He also knew it was going to kill him and hurt her in the process. He sucked in a harsh breath at what he saw. Megan was propped up against the pillows, and the only thing she wore was the moonlight as it caressed her body. Liam reached out and grabbed onto the top of his wardrobe, feeling like someone had punched him in the stomach. “You have to leave this room, Meg,” he said roughly.

  “You know what you are, Liam? You’re a bloody liar.” She stood and pulled on her robe and angrily twisted the belt into a tight knot. “You must’ve thought you were so clever to tell Paddy that you needed me to stay with you at night if he was going to have a little brother or sister. And I am so bloody stupid, because I thought that meant you wanted me. Who is she, Liam?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The woman you go see everyday. The woman you prefer to spend your time with instead of me? The woman you prefer to—”

  “Stop right there, Meg, it isn’t that at all.”

  “Oh really? You stay away. You only talk to me if it’s a necessity. And you never touch me anymore,” she counted the offenses on her fingers as she spoke. “So, you tell me Liam, what is it, if not another woman? Did I give you enough confidence to get your sexual prowess back, and now I’m not enough for you?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it? Because that’s what it feels like.”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “You can’t tell me?” she asked incredulously.

  “No.”

  “I hope you rot in Hell,” Megan said as she crossed the room beside him and yanked on the doorknob. The door refused to budge.

  “It’s locked.”

  “Where’s the bloody key?” she demanded.

  “I dropped it.”

  She looked at him unbelievingly then turned and stomped to the other door. She opened it and exited, slamming it shut behind her. Liam let his breath out in a whoosh knowing she had every right to hate him.

  * * *

  Megan avoided Liam at every turn. If he walked into a room, she walked out. If he tried to speak to her, she pretended deafness. Liam continued to leave every morning and return every evening, some days later than others. The house had become a war zone and the tension could be felt by everyone, including Paddy. Megan’s nerves were strung taut and she found herself snapping at everyone.

  Days turned into weeks with this continuing. Megan found it easier when Liam left for London to “attend to business” for days on end. She knew she could easily write to her father and ask him to check on him, to see if he was really attending sessions of Parliament and related committee meetings, but that would be admitting to the world that her marriage was a sham. Her parents would feel guilty for forcing them to marry and she refused to do that to them. Instead she lost herself in working with Legend and spending time with Paddy, that was when Paddy wasn’t with Annie or his tutor.

  When Liam was home Megan often went to bed when Paddy did to avoid him. On the nights he stayed in London, she would often stay up all night, reading books about horses until she fell asleep in one of the big chairs in the library. She lived a miserable existence. The only things that made the days bearable were the horses and Paddy. Even then, Paddy started to prefer Annie’s company over hers and she knew she had only herself to blame. She had begun to snap at him, often times for no reason. Her life was spiraling out of control and she found herself helpless to stop it. The only positive thing was that there had been no more attacks on her, leaving her to believe it had been an angry jockey seeking revenge, and he had given up when his attempt to harm her failed.

  Through all this, Legend continued to be entered in races and continued winning, thus making a name for himself. Liam attended all the races with her and they put on the act of a happy newlywed couple worthy of Drury Lane. A week before the 2,000 Guinea Stakes at Newmarket a courier arrived while Megan was helping Hamrick and Jim work with Legend. It was one of the rare days that Liam had arrived home early. She put off entering the house as long as she possibly could.

  Megan slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor and could hear Paddy animatedly chatting. Her husband’s deep voice replied. Megan’s stomach churned sickeningly. She wished she could be part of the easy camaraderie they shared, the closeness, but somehow she had become the outsider. She passed by the room, not stopping when she heard Liam call her name. Before she reached the door to her suite, she heard the patter of little feet.

  “Mama, didn’t you hear Papa?” Paddy asked.

  “My mind was elsewhere. Did he need me?”

  “Yes, he does,” Liam answered, standing in the doorway. “Son, go find Annie and let her know you’re going to eat supper with us tonight.”

  “Yay!” The little boy jumped excitedly and took off running.

  “I’m not hungry,” Megan said.

  “You’ll eat with us.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “If you must think of it that way, then yes, it is.”

  “I don’t take orders from you or anyone else.”

  “Do you realize the stress our son has been under because we can’t get along? I will not continue to put him through that. In front of him and the staff, we make happy. Behind the doors of our bedroom, you can hate me all you wish.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I don’t care what you want or don’t want,” he interrupted her.

  —hate you, she continued the thought silently despite him cutting her off.

  “Paddy came to me almost in tears, afraid that we were going to send him away.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He was afraid we were fighting because of him.”

  “He hasn’t said a word to me.” She felt hurt that the little boy who once considered her his world now went to Liam to confide his worries. “Why didn’t he come to me?”

  “He’s afraid to approach you. He tells me you’re always yelling at people.”

  Megan felt a flush creep over her skin, but refused to break eye contact with Liam. “You w
ould know if you were here,” she countered.

  “You’re right. I’m as much to blame as anybody. I’m sorry I have had to go off to London so much. It seems like this title that Prinny bestowed on me was both a reward and a curse.”

  “Is that where you really were?” The question escaped Megan before she could stop it.

  “Where else would I be?”

  Megan shrugged her answer.

  She watched Liam walk back into the room and she followed him, curious. “We’ve received an invitation to attend a ball given by Sir Bunbury and his wife, Lady Margaret. He’s the founder of the Jockey Club.”

  “I know who he is,” Megan snapped.

  “We’ll be expected to be there.”

  “Of course.”

  “No argument?”

  “No. I look forward to hearing the murmurings about Legend.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It sounded like it.”

  “It means you care more about that damn horse than you do this family.”

  “Perhaps if you were around more, I wouldn’t have to spend so much time with my horses.”

  “I give up.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Do you have something to wear to the ball?” he asked her.

  “I’m not a pauper.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “I’ll just get ready for supper. When did you say you’d be leaving for London this time?”

  “After the ball.”

  Megan nodded and slipped from the room, a plan forming in her mind and rage coursing through her body. At least she now knew he was unhappy with the situation as well.

  * * *

  The night of the ball arrived with no change in Liam and Megan’s stilted relationship. Liam chastised himself constantly for not fighting her father’s ultimatum, but there was no going back now. The butler helped him tie his cravat and shrug into his form-fitting superfine waistcoat. He brushed a hand through his hair, giving him a rakish appearance. This evening he was clean shaven and fine silvery lines and circular, puckered scars intermingled on his face, a reminder of the past. He sighed, not looking forward to the evening ahead.