Claiming His Defiant Miss

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘It’s just porridge.’ May offered him a smile and set down a bowl in front of him. ‘You always say that.’

  ‘It always smells good,’ he said, but his words were remote. He wasn’t entirely engaged in the moment. He was wary and reserved.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Her mind began to go over all the possibilities of what might be wrong. Had he seen signs of Cabot Roan? Despite what he believed, he had succeeded in scaring her yesterday. Liam hadn’t been the only thing on her mind last night as she’d lain awake pondering the future—a future that by necessity had to include consideration of Roan’s danger. This man had tried to kill her brother and he would keep coming until he had what he wanted.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ He paused and set down his spoon. ‘Perhaps we should talk about yesterday, May. It was precipitous on both of our parts. I don’t think it was something either of us intended to happen.’

  ‘But it did.’ Some of her earlier hopefulness began to carefully retreat. ‘You are not suggesting it was a mistake, are you?’ She dared him to deny it with her eyes, her gaze holding his across the worktable.

  ‘I am suggesting that we both know how this turns out if we continue down this path.’

  ‘And what path is that?’ May glared.

  ‘A path that leads nowhere beyond bed, May.’

  Hadn’t she just reasoned that out herself? Wasn’t that the conclusion she’d drawn in the small hours of the night? Then why did she want to argue that conclusion? She had the perverse desire to disagree with him.

  ‘So, that’s what “I don’t hate you” means. I was wondering. Now I know it means “I like you enough to have sex with you but nothing more. Keep your hands on me, but keep your heart to yourself, please.”’

  ‘May, be reasonable. What did you think would come of it? That your father would suddenly change his opinion of me? That society would accept me? That you would suddenly accept me? I know it bothers you I’m not a true gentleman. You and me together, is not the way the world works. I’m lucky to have come as far as I have, but I’ve reached the top of my ladder. Did you think everything would change and we’d live happily ever after?’

  ‘I think we are in charge of our own happily-ever-afters. I decide for me and I used to think you decided for yourself, too.’ There were so many grounds on which to challenge him, she could hardly grab at all the arguments. ‘I’m not looking for happily-ever-after, I’m looking for happy-right-now, and you’re wrong. I do accept you just as you are. I’m not a spoiled little rich girl. Just look around here. Would a spoiled little rich girl be able to do all this?’

  Liam waved an arm to indicate the kitchen. ‘Is that what this is? Living in a cottage, learning to cook and manage a budget is “deciding for yourself”? Your parents are still providing for you. They send you an allowance every month that enables you to pursue this rustic, domestic fantasy, and when you get tired of it, you can go home to your big town house and your country estate, your silks and satins, and eight-course meals. You’re not in charge any more than you were five years ago. You are lying to yourself if you think you are.’

  She took a deep breath and placed her hands flat on the worktable. ‘No. I won’t do it, Liam. It’s not going to work this time. You want me to fight with you, so you don’t have to make a decision, so you can walk away and try to blame it all on me. Well, I’m not going to fight back. What can I say, anyway? You already know I disagree with you on all fronts and you continue to hold me accountable for what happened years ago. It was your fault, too. You weren’t there when I came after you. You left as soon as you could.’

  ‘Now, listen here, May—’ Liam began, but he never finished.

  There was a shuffle of feet behind her and May turned to see Beatrice waddling towards them, her nightgown gathered against her, her hand shaking as she clutched the doorjamb. ‘May, my waters have broken. The baby’s coming.’

  Chapter Eleven

  It was happening! The moment she and Beatrice had waited for, prepared for over the last four months and still May felt inadequate for the task. May pasted on a smile, all thoughts of the unfinished business with Liam shoved aside. Don’t panic! Remember the plan. All she needed to do was send for Dr Stimson and support Bea.

  ‘I’ll go for the doctor.’ Liam was halfway out through the door before she could act.

  ‘He’ll be fast,’ May assured Bea. ‘Let’s get you into a clean night-rail and get fresh sheets on the bed.’ She kept the chatter up as she helped Bea. She could see Bea was nervous, scared, Bea who was always so confident and in charge. ‘This is exciting, Bea. In a few hours, we’ll meet the little prince or princess we’ve been loving for months.’ She could not let Bea see that she was nervous, too. ‘All the reading we’ve done will pay off very shortly,’ she tried to joke. She and Beatrice had spent countless hours reading whatever they could lay their hands on about childbirth, which had been shockingly difficult. Apparently, women were just supposed to give birth intuitively, not study it or understand it in any scientific fashion. They had found a couple of tomes, though, and a few pamphlets they’d gone to no small lengths to attain. Getting them had delayed their departure from London earlier this summer.

  * * *

  ‘How are you feeling, otherwise?’ May asked once she had Bea settled and her mind had got over the initial shock. It would probably help them both if they focused on the facts of the situation. ‘Are you having any contractions?’

  ‘Some, but they’re fairly far apart and not terribly strong yet. They’ve been happening since daybreak.’

  ‘You should have said something!’ May scolded. She’d been wasting time on Liam when Bea had needed her.

  ‘I wanted you to sleep as long as you could. Babies can take a long time.’

  May reached for Bea’s hand. ‘Evie and Claire will be so thrilled to hear the news. Everything is going to be fine. I have the herbs you put aside ready, I have hot water set to boil, plenty of towels, and best of all, I have the blanket we made ready to wrap the baby in the moment he or she appears. Everything will be fine,’ she repeated, hoping if she said it enough it would be.

  But everything wasn’t fine. It had all gone wrong from the start. Liam was gone too long and when he came back no one was with him. May didn’t let him deliver that news in front of Bea. She met him in the kitchen, arms folded, gaze fierce as if her countenance could persuade him to deliver different news, better news.

  ‘The doctor has been called away to see to a family that might have measles a few hamlets over.’ Liam told her in low tones. ‘So, even if he returns in time...’ His voice dropped off and May understood what he meant.

  ‘There’s no way I’d let him near May and the baby after treating measles,’ she agreed. ‘The midwife, then? Mrs Allen?’

  ‘I went there, too. It’s why I was gone so long. She’s left to help her daughter with a birth. She’s not expected back for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘A couple of weeks?’ May hissed. ‘This will be over in a couple of hours!’

  ‘A couple of hours? One can hope.’ Liam chuckled. ‘Most babies take slightly longer to make their appearance.’

  May huffed. ‘I know that. I was being facetious.’

  Liam studied her with serious intent. ‘What else do you know, May? How much do you know about birthing a bairn?’

  ‘I’ve read a bit.’ Liam’s hand closed over her wrist in a gentle circle.

  ‘It will have to do. Get the books, we might need them. She’s big and in my experience that means two things: twins or trouble.’ He nodded towards Bea’s bedroom and drew a breath. ‘Let’s go break the news to her.’

  Bea smiled when she saw them, looking relieved, her gaze going past them, searching for Dr Stimson. ‘Is Stimson still outside?’

  ‘Bea, we have to tell you something.’ May knelt
by her friend’s side with another smile. ‘The doctor can’t come. He’s attending a family with measles a few villages over.’

  ‘Mrs Allen, then?’ Bea said hopefully. It was exactly the same litany May had gone through just moments ago.

  May shook her head. ‘There’s just us. But don’t worry,’ she added quickly. ‘Women have been having babies for thousands of years. How hard can it be? I am sure we’ll do splendidly. We’re smart women, we’re prepared and we have our books. Do you remember the one with the chapter about birth? “Dr Jonson’s guide to maternal care”?’ It was just one chapter out of a huge tome devoted to medical practices, but it was the most any single book contained that was exclusively devoted to women.

  Liam coughed discreetly in the doorway. ‘I think you’re forgetting something else. Me. You have me.’ He entered the room then, filling the small space with his presence. ‘You have May and me. Together, we are not going to let anything happen to you.’

  He gave Bea a warm, encouraging look, but the gaze he gave May was warmer still and May felt all the stronger for it. She wasn’t alone. She had Liam. Together, they’d once believed they could do anything. Suddenly, the unresolved issues of the barn, of their past, didn’t seem important. It was only important that he was here with her, helping her face this bravely for her friend. ‘I’m going to wash up with the hot water May has in the kitchen and then we’ll see how this baby of yours is doing.’

  It was impressive how Liam took charge so effortlessly. He washed and rolled up his shirtsleeves, and with gentle hands pressed down on Bea’s belly, moving his hands here and there. ‘Come, feel this, May,’ he encouraged her. ‘You can feel the baby’s bottom here, his head here.’

  ‘Her head,’ May corrected. It was amazing to feel the baby and she couldn’t help but smile and then worry, but she didn’t dare ask Liam out loud in front of Bea.

  ‘Bea,’ Liam began, ‘I think we have good news. There’s only one baby. I was concerned there might be twins, but I can only find the one, just a big strapping baby waiting to be born.’ He smiled broadly. ‘But he or she has not turned yet, even though your waters have broken. Sometimes they don’t, but they will eventually. We just need to wait.’

  ‘How do you know so much about babies?’ Bea asked. May fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up. They were going to be here a while.

  ‘Yes, Liam.’ May gave him a coy smile. ‘Do tell us how you know so much about babies?’ She perched beside Bea on the bed, letting him pull up the one chair in the room.

  Liam grinned, looking ruggedly handsome, nothing at all like dour Dr Stimson with his medical theories. ‘I ran errands for a doctor who did charity work in St Giles twice a week. I followed him around like a puppy and he paid me a few coins for my efforts. I knew the streets better than any other kid in the neighbourhood and where to get things when he needed them.’

  ‘St Giles?’ Bea’s brow knitted in confusion.

  ‘I see May hasn’t told you the story of my humble origins.’ He cast her a scolding look.

  ‘May hasn’t told me much about you at all.’ Now Bea was scolding her. She felt set upon by both sides, but she wasn’t going to sit there and become the villain.

  ‘Liam lived in St Giles during his childhood,’ May said sharply, tossing Liam a ‘there, are you happy now?’ look. She’d prove to him once and for all she didn’t care about his antecedents. To her credit, Bea did not disappoint. She simply nodded her head at the information and let Liam continue.

  ‘The doctor treated everyone, but a lot of his work was with the...ah...’ Liam hesitated.

  ‘Prostitutes?’ Bea supplied on a guess.

  ‘You needn’t be crass, Mrs Fields.’ Liam winked playfully. ‘I was going to say something more delicate like lightskirts, or ladies of the evening.’ Liam raised an eyebrow in censure and the gesture made May stifle a laugh.

  ‘Anyway, as you can imagine,’ Liam went on, ‘there were some births and other delicate ladies’ issues that came up.’ He shot May a look, not wanting her to say more about his work with the doctor. It wouldn’t help Bea any to hear it. ‘Medicine fascinated me. I liked the idea of being able to help others in a significant way. When I was old enough to travel on my own, I went to Oxford. I wanted to be around all the learning I could and a university town seemed like the perfect place for me. That’s where I met Preston.’

  Bea brightened with a laugh. ‘So you are a doctor! I should scold you for letting me think there was no one qualified to help me.’

  May gave Liam a discreet look. Was he playing the old game or was he going to tell Bea the truth? She’d heard a variation of this story before. When told carefully, one could easily believe Liam had gone to Oxford, had met Preston as a fellow student and had studied medicine. Doctors were learned men, upper-middle-class sorts who were attached, even if loosely, to the family trees of nobility. Doctors were eminently respectable matches for daughters of baronets. The story, while true in essence but misleading in its conclusions, had been the one Liam and Preston had foisted on her father in their Pygmalion attempts. They’d nearly succeeded, except for one thing—Liam could barely read at the time. She wasn’t sure now that she could let Liam mislead Bea, even if it was intended to put her at ease.

  ‘Mrs Fields, I need to be honest with you. I am not a doctor. At best, I am a military surgeon’s assistant.’ Liam leaned forward, hands on knees, his blue eyes sincere. ‘There was a time when I was pleased enough to let people believe what they would from my story, but no longer. I would pretend to be something I’m not to impress people, or to fit in. When I went to Oxford, I meant the city. I went to the city. I worked in taverns so I could listen to students talk. I drove delivery wagons to the colleges and the deans’ houses so I could sneak into lecture halls and sit in the back. I couldn’t read anything beyond my name when I met Preston. He taught me to read English and some Latin, because a doctor should read Latin, and Greek, but I’m no scholar and I’m not a certified doctor.’

  May gave him a smile of appreciation. His admittance was bravely done. At the time, she’d thought the Pygmalion joke a wonderful prank to pull on her father and a way to rebel against the snobbery of society by passing Liam off as one of them. It had been entertaining to watch him in a room of guests at the summer house, fooling his betters into accepting him. But as entertaining as it had been, it had been wrong. Liam should never have had to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He should have been acceptable as he was.

  ‘A surgeon’s assistant, though?’ Bea pressed, shifting uncomfortably with a contraction that was too far apart to be a sign of hopeful progress.

  Liam smiled. ‘I went to Serbia with a private group of British mercenaries, for lack of a better word, although we were there with the government’s blessing to ascertain the nature of the uprising. I spent two years in the Serbian army, as a result.’ He tossed a glance at May. ‘It was the first time I encountered Cabot Roan. He wasn’t selling arms to the Serbians, but the Ottomans, in case you were wondering. Britain was not pleased but we couldn’t prove anything at the time.’

  May looked up, startled. She hadn’t known. She’d only known that he was gone, beyond her reach. He’d stormed out of their house at the lake and disappeared. She had not seen or heard from him until he’d shown up in the cottage. Even Preston had stopped mentioning him. Now, she knew why. But as with most answers, other questions sparked. Had he gone to Serbia by choice or had her father arranged it purposely to get him as far from her as possible? And perhaps shot and killed in the process? Foreign wars weren’t safe territory. Those were questions she didn’t dare ask in front of Bea. It publicly exposed more of the story than she wanted when there was still so much between her and Liam that had to be addressed privately.

  * * *

  Liam was a good conversationalist. He kept Bea talking until afternoon, but by then the contractions were co
ming closer together and talking was difficult. This was a good sign, May assured Bea. It meant the baby was making progress. ‘Look, it says so, right here on the page.’ May triumphantly held the book up for Bea to see. When the contractions got stronger, she gave Bea the dittany ‘tea’ simmered in wine mixed with vervain and hyssop just as they had planned. It seemed the baby was cooperating at last. Liam’s assessment confirmed it.

  ‘The baby’s turned,’ he told Bea and May could see the relief on his face. Finally, something was going right. Only May wished it was going better, faster. Bea could no longer focus on conversation, so May read to her, grabbing the first book to hand, one of Bea’s favourites: The Pirate Rogue. Liam took the opportunity to stretch and feed the animals in the barn.

  ‘He’s a good man, May.’ Bea grabbed her wrist, straining through a contraction. Bea was starting to sweat, the dittany mixture no longer able to bring any comfort.

  May smiled and reached for a rag to wipe Bea’s face. ‘He is. It’s just never worked out for us.’

  ‘Then make it work,’ Bea replied earnestly and with no small amount of heat. ‘He is worth fighting for, May. Whatever happened in the past, whatever his background, promise me, you find a way to keep to him.’ She screamed then—it was the most sound she’d made all afternoon. ‘May!’

  This was it, truly it. After a day of waiting, everything happened in lightning speed. There was no time to panic, no time to worry, no time to go for Liam. There was only her and she was enough. May threw back the covers, all of the reading coming back to her as her mind sped through next steps. ‘Yes, Bea, push! I think there’s a head.’ She was aware of Liam at the door—he’d come back inside and washed—but all of her attention was on Beatrice labouring hard to push this little creature into the world.

  ‘When you can, May,’ Liam instructed softly, coming to stand at Bea’s head, ‘take the baby by the shoulders to ease him out, not by the head, although that’s tempting.’ There was more screaming, more pushing and then suddenly it was over in a rush of baby and fluid and the babe was in her hands.