Liam rose over her, wanting to memorise the details of this precious moment: the glitter of her green eyes as she looked up at him, the feel of her arms about his neck, the scent of her skin all lavender and rosewater mingled with the lingering musk of him, the gentle invitation of her open thighs, inviting the supplicant into the goddess’s inner sanctum.
He bent his mouth to hers, whispering his vow against her lips, as he took her with a kiss and a thrust. ‘I will fight for you, May.’ And this time, he would win. All that remained was for May to decide she would have him. With each thrust, he was determined that she would.
Chapter Nineteen
He wasn’t going to let her go. The knowledge was both a buoy to her spirits and an albatross around her neck as they stood on the front steps of the Worths’ rented town house. To have him with her gave her courage to enter this home where plans to see her married off awaited. Liam would be safe here and that made the thought bearable. After last night, though, it was harder than ever to contemplate a life without him. Even if she eluded her parents’ intended suitor, Liam would be no more welcome in her family. He might even be blamed for her rejection of whatever suitor lurked at tonight’s dinner table. Well, there was no other way around, only through. She wouldn’t know how all of this ended if she didn’t take the next step. May raised her hand to the brass knocker and let it fall, trying not to think too much about the man on the step below her and the last time he’d seen her father.
Liam was in bodyguard mode again this morning, perhaps in an attempt to present himself professionally to the parents who despised him, perhaps because it was such an intrinsic part of who he was. His back was to her and the door, all the better to keep his watchful eye on the street, his body tense with impatience, although she wondered if it was more than impatience that had Liam on edge. Cabot Roan aside, this couldn’t be easy for him. No matter how old one got, no matter how much of the world one had seen, one probably never got over being nearly caught in flagrante by a lover’s father.
A butler, a man who must have come with the house as May didn’t know him, answered with a disapproving glance at her clothes. He clearly thought she belonged at the back entrance. May’s chin went up, her tone frosty. ‘Miss May Worth, to see her parents.’
It was rather amazing what one forgot in the span of four months and freedom. She’d thought she’d looked rather fine this morning in her warm wool riding habit. It had been serendipitous that she’d had to flee on market day when she’d already been dressed in a decent outfit for town. She’d done a good job of brushing out wrinkles and the travel wear the clothes had acquired yesterday, but now, seeing herself through the butler’s eyes, she was forced to rethink that assessment. In his eyes, she’d look like a countrywoman, perhaps a shopkeeper’s wife who could afford some small, occasional luxuries, but certainly not someone who could call at the front door of the mighty house of Worth unannounced. Even if the house was rented.
The door opened again, the butler’s face neutrally blank as if he hadn’t insulted her with his expression the first time. ‘Right this way, Miss Worth.’ He swept her in, saving his questioning stare for Liam, but decided against making a second mistake after taking in Liam’s height and breadth up close.
The town house was spacious, no doubt the best money could rent, that much was obvious in the walk up the stairs to the drawing room. The drawing room itself was elegantly cavernous, done up in shades of peach and grey with hints of turquoise to lend a splash of colour, just exactly the sort of subtle decorating her mother approved of. The furnishings looked new, the wallpaper bright and fresh. Even in winter, there were bouquets of cut flowers in vases on tables throughout the room.
‘Those flowers would feed a family in St Giles for two weeks,’ Liam muttered crossly, his old habit coming out, probably on purpose, a sign of how much this solution galled him and how necessary he felt it was. Social consciousness, he called it.
The drawing-room door opened and her mother swanned in, arms outstretched, ‘May! Oh, my darling girl, you’re here at last.’ She was impeccably dressed in forest-green silk trimmed in jet; at her throat were discreet jewels appropriate for receiving morning guests, her hair put up in a sophisticated twist. She looked ageless and elegant at a distance. It was only up close that one could see the tiny lines about her eyes.
‘Mother, it’s good to see you.’ May searched her mother’s face, looking for signs. Was Preston here? Was he well? Did they even know?
Her mother took her hands, just hands, never a hug. Women of her station were not given to hugs. ‘We’ve been so worried about you. Your father wanted to go after you, but Preston insisted...’
‘Is Preston here?’ Liam turned from the window, his words excited and terse, drawing her mother’s attention. The softness in her mother’s face turned hard upon recognition. The past flamed into life.
‘Preston is here.’ She eyed Liam as if he were a repellent insect. ‘He told us he’d sent you to May—that you might turn up.’ The disdain was evident. How dare this boy from the streets deign to step foot inside such a fine home, let alone claim association with a daughter of its house.
May felt her temper rise. She disengaged her hands and moved towards Liam. ‘He saved me yesterday, Mother. We are here only because of him. Roan’s men came upon us in the village. Liam was able to get Beatrice and the baby to safety and us as well. He is deserving of our thanks at the very least.’
There were no thanks forthcoming, only redirection. Her mother was determined to ignore Liam. ‘She’s had the child, then? At least that’s over with and we can get our lives back to normal.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s such a distasteful business. I don’t know what Edith Penrose was thinking not to keep a more watchful eye on her daughter and now they have a bastard in the family. Shall I call for tea?’ She made a fluttering motion with her hand towards Liam. ‘Cook will have something hot in the kitchen, if you need breakfast.’
Liam inclined his head, managing to look regal and feral as he stared down her mother. ‘Breakfast will have to wait. We have business that must be discussed. Please, call for Preston and for your husband if he’s available. We must decide what to do about Cabot Roan. Your daughter’s safety depends on it, as does your son’s.’
May wanted to applaud. When was the last time anyone had contradicted her mother? Had such an occasion ever even happened? May went to the bell pull and rang. The best way to make your wishes come true was to simply act as if they were already in motion. Her mother had taught her that. When a maid appeared, May gave the orders. ‘Tea for five. Send for my brother and father at once. Tell them to join us here.’ She shot her mother an imperious look. If Liam was willing to fight for them, then she needed to as well. She still hoped there might be a time when she didn’t need to choose between Liam and her family, but until then she had to do her best to span both worlds.
Some of the iciness in the room dissipated with Preston’s arrival. He saw Liam first. ‘Case!’ Liam went to him and Preston embraced him with a joyous laugh. Preston was a hugger, much to their mother’s chagrin. ‘Gently, now, old friend, I’m still tender.’ Preston stepped back, hands on Liam’s upper arms. ‘You brought May and the pages through safe, I knew you would.’ He turned towards her, slowly. Stiffly.
May was starting to notice how slowly Preston did everything. She followed Liam’s lead and went to him, not wanting to wait for Preston to cross the room. Preston hugged her, too, wrapping her in his arms. He murmured his confession low for her alone. ‘Forgive me, May? For getting into trouble and dragging you along with it? I had to protect you and I thought I might as well send the papers. Liam could only protect both if they were together. I hope I did right?’ He was seeking absolution for more than causing her trouble, it was for sending Liam to her. She’d never been sure how much Preston had been told. Preston only knew they’d fallen into infatuation, that May had
been furious when Liam had left, if not all the reasons why. Even so, he would have understood that seeing Liam again would raise a touchy subject.
‘You did right, Preston. Liam has protected me with his life.’
Preston smiled then, tossing a warm glance at his friend. ‘As I knew he would.’
‘How are you? Liam told me you’d been stabbed.’ She led Preston to the sofa covered in peach damask, careful to match her steps to his, noting how thin he felt through the barriers of his clothes. Now that the excitement and relief of seeing him had passed, she noticed the little things: the way his clothes hung slightly off on his body, the paleness of his face, the pronounced sharpness of his cheekbones. She slid a quiet glance at Liam. He noticed it, too. ‘You’re still recovering,’ she said, as much as reassurance for herself as a prompt for Preston. She found herself reluctant to let go of her brother’s hand.
‘Yes, I am sure Liam told you we were set upon on the road. We were outnumbered, but we managed. Liam got me to a farmhouse and sewed me up.’ Preston’s eyes went to Liam. ‘The family did their best for me. We were lucky in finding them.’ There were secrets in that gaze and May was sure more would be said in private.
Her father entered the room, his sharp eyes immediately taking in the assembled group, a personal greeting for each of them in that hawkish gaze; a questioning glance to her mother, a soft look of sad joy upon seeing her and a look of pure dislike when it fell on Liam. Her father, with silver at his temples, reminded her of an alpha wolf defending his pack as he stalked towards them, ageing but powerful, still strong in his own right. She could feel Liam bristle in his chair across from her. Perhaps a battle of sorts was inevitable, but it would have to wait until the larger problem was resolved.
‘Casek, I believe we owe you for our son’s recovery.’ It was as close to a thank you as her father was willing to go. May heard the subtle negotiation in the words as well. The family owed Liam for Preston’s survival. In return, they would allow his presence in the house, tolerate his brief but temporary association with them. It was unlikely that tolerance would extend to him courting their daughter.
Her father sat, taking charge of the conversation and planning as the tea tray arrived. ‘What news do we have?’
May let Liam recount their getaway yesterday, it was still too unbelievable for her to adequately put into detail beyond what she’d told her mother. ‘We arrived late last night,’ Liam concluded.
‘And Roan?’ her father asked, spearing Liam with a look that said he didn’t appreciate the delay in coming to the house no matter how dark it was. ‘When should we expect his arrival?’
‘As soon as he realises we didn’t take the road. He could be here as early as today.’ Liam made his report with professionalism.
Her father nodded. ‘The sooner the better. I want this over. We’ll reel him in. We’ll let it be known that May is here. That will push Roan to recklessness. He’ll be doubly desperate at this point. I doubt we’re the only ones looking for him. As much as I don’t like the idea, May will be the bait and we’ll be ready to pounce. We’ll have him and his ledgers in London to stand trial in the New Year.’
Bait? May didn’t like the sound of that at all. ‘Exactly how am I supposed to be the bait? Can’t you just hunt him down?’
‘I’d rather not give him a reason to run. If he thinks he’s being hunted, he might go to ground and give up on the ledgers. If he leaves the country, where would our justice be? It would be in France and that’s no help to us. He’ll keep selling arms, keeping financing war and he’ll always be a threat to us,’ her father explained. ‘You will be our distraction. If he’s focused on finding you, perhaps he’ll be less focused on us finding him.’ Her father’s face was pensive. ‘Don’t think I like it for a moment, May. But don’t worry. We just need you to be yourself. Go shopping, be visible. Tease him with the invitation that you could perhaps be caught.’
‘Wouldn’t he suspect something? He knows that I know he’s after me,’ May argued. ‘Why would I suddenly act unaware now?’
It was Liam who answered. ‘Because now you think you’re safe. We won’t leave you unguarded—that would be too obvious to him. But we’ll create moments of “unguarded opportunity”, shall we say, when he could choose to act, and when he does, we’ll be there. Waiting for him.
‘I’ll be there, May.’ Liam’s eyes on hers, dark and intense. She did not doubt him, but she didn’t want him taking unnecessary risks.
‘I know,’ May said, not bothering to censor her comments for the sake of her parents. She had disavowed him once. She wouldn’t do it again. ‘That’s what worries me.’ She shifted her gaze to Preston and made her argument. ‘Roan will kill him if he has the chance.’
Preston nodded, his expression sombre. ‘Then we won’t give him one. This won’t be over until the ledgers are in London and Roan is apprehended. He can’t be brought in for questioning until the Home Office has evidence to suggest there is a reason to suspect him.’ Preston drew a deep breath. ‘Which is why I will leave for London within the hour. The sooner the papers are gone on their way, the better.’
May threw a glance at Liam. She saw the dilemma in his eyes: go with Preston or stay with her. This was her chance to protect him, to get him away from Roan, despite his pledge to be beside her. ‘Liam will go with you. You can’t travel alone and you’re still recovering.’
‘No.’ Preston’s answer was swift. ‘Liam needs to be here with you.’
‘You need to be here,’ her mother argued. ‘You’re still recovering. You can’t be out on the road, with no one to watch your back.’
But Preston had an answer for that, too. ‘Roan doesn’t even know I’m in the city. If I leave before he arrives, he won’t think to be looking for me on the road.’ Preston rose. ‘I’ll pack. Father, call for the coach.’ He shot a consoling glance at May. ‘This could all be settled in ten days.’ Four to London, two to see the right people, and four days back barring any catastrophes on the road. May counted them silently in her head. Her mother was right. Preston shouldn’t be travelling.
Liam rose. ‘Take May with you. Get her away from all of this. It’s hardly fair she was embroiled in it to begin with.’
It was her father who answered with an impatient explanation. ‘She’s the lure to keep Roan in Edinburgh. If he can’t find her in town, the first place Roan will look for her is on the road. The longer he’s here searching, the safer Preston is and the more likely we can keep him from fleeing.’ Her father raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Perhaps, Casek, you should have taken him in Serbia when you had the chance and saved us all the bother.’
Liam’s gaze narrowed, his words even. ‘I had no orders to do that, sir. My orders were merely to observe.’ May knew better than ever now what those words cost him.
‘The rules have never stopped you before.’ Her father’s voice held a veiled challenge. They weren’t talking about Serbia now. May moved to intervene.
‘It’s been a long morning after a very long day. I think I would like a chance to freshen up while Preston packs.’
Her mother took the cue, looping her arm through May’s. ‘I have your trunks from London and a few new dresses I had made for you. We have parties to attend, starting tonight with the Balforths’ dinner...’ May hardly heard her. She was too busy thinking about how she and Liam were going to survive the next ten days, a very relevant question considering the words floating out into the hallway, her father’s voice carrying easily. She didn’t envy Preston and Liam just now.
* * *
‘What were the two of you thinking?’ Albermarle Worth pushed a hand through his hair, a gesture he shared with his son. ‘Forget that. I don’t want to know because that presumes you were thinking at all, an assumption I don’t think it is safe to make.’ He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Good God, Preston, what possessed you to do such a thing
?’ Liam exchanged a look with Preston. Neither of them thought for a moment that Albermarle Worth was referring to Preston having sent May the papers. It was quite clear the ‘unthinkable act’ had been sending him. Preston’s father was an intimidating man when he chose. He lived in a world of power and influence and knew how to wield both. He was choosing to do so now.
Once, Liam had allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the power of Albermarle Worth, but he was not that boy-man any longer. He was now a man who had seen the world—far more of it than its elegant drawing rooms—and he chose not to be intimidated. Liam met Albermarle Worth’s gaze evenly, calmly. ‘I am the best protection in the Kingdom, as my record proves time and again.’ He dared Worth to argue with that. Worth knew as well as he did that Liam had yet to fail a mission. Everyone he’d ever been sent to protect had been protected. Everyone he’d been sent to kill had been killed.
It was not what Worth had wanted him to say. Worth had wanted him to argue that his feelings for May would ensure her protection. If Worth wanted to make this personal, he would have to take it there himself. Liam would not do it for him. Professionalism was the moral high ground here, a chance to show May’s father that he had grown from being an angry youth into a man who’d made the most of his opportunities. To show him less would be to admit Liam had failed to rise above his birth.
Worth held his gaze for a span of long moments, a silent battle ensuing between them before Worth relented. Liam did not take that as a surrender, merely a tactical retreat. Worth was a lion, never more so when it came to his children. ‘I assume your protective efforts will extend to the peremptory as well?’ He raised a dark brow, slim and arching like May’s when her temper was up. ‘The best way to protect May is to flush out Roan before he has a chance at her. You need to find the bastard.’ Then he added, ‘Before anyone else does. Roan’s enemies will simply kill him and that does us no good. We need Roan alive and able to stand trial.’
Claiming His Defiant Miss Page 17