Claiming His Defiant Miss

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘We underestimated your feelings for May and hers for you. What happened in the sitting room showed us how committed you both are to each other. She was willing to die for you.’

  Liam attempted to break in. ‘Sir—’

  Worth held up an authoritative hand. ‘That’s not all, Casek. You were willing to die for her. I saw the scene before she pushed you. When we charged through the door, I saw a man standing between my daughter and Roan’s pistol. I saw three men dead or wounded on the floor. That was your doing. You faced incredible odds for her. You were willing to stand between her and Roan at the expense of your life.’ Worth coughed to cover his emotion. ‘A man like that is more than deserving of my daughter and my family. If you still intend to marry May, Lady Worth and I would welcome you.’

  Liam was not often taken by surprise—except by the Worths, it seemed. May surprised him often. Preston certainly had on occasion and now Worth joined their ranks. He’d not been expecting this. For a moment he was speechless. Then he was elated. He wanted to caper around the room like an idiot. The repercussions of Worth’s words rocketed through him; they wouldn’t have to leave, May wouldn’t have to choose. The next moment, reality had him in its clutches again. ‘Sir, you do me a great honour with your blessing. But the events with Roan have shown me how my life puts May’s in danger. My career has created enemies.’

  Worth chuckled. ‘Then you need a new career, Casek. I have some ideas about how you can continue to serve this country in a less dangerous capacity. As for your past, perhaps you should put that into perspective. Everyone is haunted by theirs to some degree. We all have enemies. I wouldn’t underestimate May’s ability to cope with that if I were you.’

  Liam nodded. ‘I will ask her when she’s well.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  May came downstairs for the first time since the ball on Christmas Eve, dressed in a party gown, her hair up. It felt good to be out of her room. The house looked beautiful to her. Boughs of greenery decorated the staircase bannister, caught up at intervals with bows. Urns overflowing with winter flowers filled the niches and fireplace mantels throughout the house. ‘I wanted the house to feel like our home,’ her mother confessed in an uncharacteristically soft moment, helping her navigate the stairs.

  May squeezed her mother’s hand, feeling closer to her than she had in a long while. Together with Liam, her family had spent hours every day in her room as she recovered, reading books and playing cards with her. Perhaps, May thought, she wasn’t the only one missing the traditions of a Worth family Christmas in London. But this Christmas would be special on its own. They were all together and lucky to be so. More than that, Liam was with them. Every day with him was a blessing. He’d not left. They’d not spoken of leaving, perhaps out of deference for her recovery, and she was willing to pretend it might never happen.

  A fire roared in the drawing room, a yule log burning. The men were already assembled in their evening best although it would only be family tonight. This would be a quiet celebration. May’s heart clenched a little at the sight of the three men she loved best gathered at the mantel, looking handsome and hale. Preston was filling out finally and Liam had taken off his sling. The men smiled at her and May sensed a current of anticipation. Something was up. Something good.

  The family took their seats in the cluster of furniture gathered around the fire, the butler serving holiday champagne that sparkled in the flames. Her mother exchanged a smile and a knowing look with her father. May arranged her skirts on the sofa and Liam came to her, kneeling. She furrowed her brow. ‘What is this?’ She glanced at Preston, but he merely shrugged with a grin.

  ‘I have to ask you something, May,’ Liam began, his blue eyes serious. ‘But first, I need your promise on something.’ His hands covered hers where they lay in her lap.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I need you to promise that you will never take a bullet again for me.’

  ‘I need you to promise that I won’t need to. No more situations where that might be a necessity.’ May was equally serious. She’d never been as frightened as she’d been that night in the sitting room, watching Roan aim that gun.

  He gave her a boyish smile. ‘Agreed. Now, for the bigger question.’ He cleared his throat and May cocked her head. He was nervous. She’d never seen him nervous. He was always so self-possessed. ‘I need to confess I was wrong a few weeks ago. Tonight I want to apologise for doubting you, for not trusting that your love was enough.’

  ‘Oh.’ She breathed softly. Her eyes began to mist, but what did it mean? Did she dare hope?

  ‘May, I want to ask you tonight, on the holiest night of year, the night of all sacrificing love, if you will marry me, imperfect as I am.’

  * * *

  She made him wait, her eyes holding his with shimmering emerald drops as silence filled the room, her face filling with emotion. She glanced around at the shining faces of her family, knowing intuitively she had their blessing. ‘May?’ he prompted with a whisper when the silence outpaced his patience.

  ‘Hush.’ Her lips broke into a smile. ‘I want to enjoy seeing you on your knees.’

  ‘You could enjoy it a lot more often if you said yes,’ Liam pressed.

  Her smile widened and she raised her voice. ‘Then, yes, most definitely. I will marry you.’

  ‘When?’ There was the pop of a champagne cork from Preston’s direction, another bottle being opened.

  ‘Tomorrow.’ May laughed.

  ‘Tomorrow’s Christmas,’ Liam reminded her.

  ‘Then the day after,’ May argued. ‘We’ve wasted enough time already.’

  Liam raised her to her feet and drew her to him, kissing her then in front of everyone. ‘It hasn’t been a waste if it’s led to this. Merry Christmas, May.’

  May beamed as her family rose, and hugged them each in turn. This was a night for miracles indeed. If Liam Casek could get the Worths to hug, who knew what other miracles might be in store.

  Epilogue

  The following May,

  London

  ‘For what purpose do you wish this knighthood? If it be for richness, for taking your ease, and to be held in honour without doing your honour, you are unworthy.’ The old chivalric words rang through the receiving room, the chamber crowded and silent with the exception of the occasional rustle of clothing as Liam knelt before the King, making his ritual response.

  ‘I desire to be a knight that I might serve my God, my King and my lady wife to the best of my abilities.’

  Especially the last. His lady wife. Please, always let me serve May, he thought. In the solemnity of the moment and all it stood for, Liam could overlook the blemishes of the event, that the old words were spoken by a fat monarch who by repute didn’t have a chivalrous bone in his body, or that he himself was sweating profusely and uncomfortably, the combined results of nerves, a crowded presence chamber and being solemnly draped in a blue-velvet cloak lined in white ermine—the colour ceremoniously worn by those in the King’s service—on a warm May day at the start of the Season. Those inconveniences didn’t matter. Not right now. He only wanted to drink it all in as he’d been drinking in the joys of the last five months.

  The moment he’d set foot inside the Worths’ drawing room that snowy Christmas Eve, everything had changed. For the better and in ways he’d not thought possible, in ways he’d not even imagined he’d wanted. He had married May in January as soon as a London wedding could be arranged to her mother’s satisfaction and theirs; a ‘decent amount of haste’ her mother had called it, which meant it had occurred with enough speed to appease him and May and with enough time to accord the occasion a sense of distinction.

  No one could mutter behind their backs over the need for undue haste and an unseemly rush to the altar. There’d been imported white roses from a speciality greenhouse in the coun
try—further proof that they could wait as long as they desired—and yards of satin ribbon festooning the elegant stretch of aisle at St Martin-in-the-Field off Charing Square. While the luxurious yards of satin had seemed a frivolous waste to Liam, the thoughtfulness of the locale was not lost on him as a sign of the Worths’ acceptance of him—St Martin of Tours had been a champion of the homeless and downtrodden.

  But if he and May had thought they could quietly retire to their newly purchased house north enough of Belgravia not to be middle class, but far enough south of the West End as not to be overly ostentatious, they were sadly mistaken. The house, the wedding location, all served a double purpose as did many things associated with the Worths. He would not change overnight, maybe not at all, and it would be wrong to think the Worths would either. All these things had been orchestrated first and foremost out of affection for May, acceptance of him and secondarily with an eye for the future.

  If the wedding was proof of the former, today’s ceremony at the King’s drawing room was proof of the latter. This was his father-in-law’s doing as much as the wedding had been May’s mother’s. The King raised the ceremonial sword and Liam bowed his head as the flat of the blade moved from shoulder to shoulder, bestowing on him the traditional colée, intoning the ancient, culminating words of the ceremony ‘In the name of God, St Michael and St George, I create thee knight. Be thou valiant, fearless and loyal.’

  Liam swallowed hard against the emotion welling. It wasn’t so much the ceremony today in front of strangers crowded into the Chinese receiving room at Buckingham House that triggered the reaction, but the event that had led to it; how Albermarle Worth had gathered them all together in the drawing room of the Worth home upon his and May’s return from a brief wedding trip and read the letter out loud. The letter had been his father-in-law’s petition that he be recognised with a knighthood for his service to the country; for his role in bringing the notorious Cabot Roan to justice; for acting these last years on behalf of the empire wherever he was called; for his work in Serbia, and for his willingness to lay down his life for another without hesitation as witnessed in the events that transpired at the Christmas Masque in Scotland, all in the name of King and country. Albermarle Worth had set aside the letter, his hard green eyes unusually watery, and recited the last of the petition from memory. ‘“For these reasons and for my deepest conviction that this man has more to give his country in the years to come if given the opportunity to serve, I hereby do affix my most solemn name to this petition.”’ It had not mattered to Liam if the petition was accepted or not. It was enough that his father-in-law had written it, had put his name to those words.

  The Worths had plans for him, not only because they wanted to make him into a person worthy of social recognition for their daughter’s sake but because they accepted him and saw his potential. Liam would like to say it didn’t matter to him what the Worths thought of where he lived or how he lived, but it did. Mainly because it mattered to May, but it would be dishonest to ignore the fact that it mattered to him as well. He had a family now, something he’d only ever imagined before. He was rapidly learning what family meant. Families meant compromise and sometimes families meant difficult disagreements when one stood up for what one believed in. But despite what families sometimes meant, he was learning they always meant love, always had one’s back and always had one’s best interests at heart. He had the acceptance that mattered to him. The ceremony today was just a formality, as were these final words.

  ‘Sir Liam Casek, rise and be greeted as befits your station.’ Liam stood and faced the crowd and the polite applause, his gaze going immediately to May, dressed in a spring blue trimmed in cool white lace, who stood in the front of the assembly, tears in her eyes. Custom or not, Liam went straight to her. Today was because of her, for her, as much as it was for him. No matter what else he and her family might disagree on in the future, and he could imagine there was potential for quite a lot, they would always agree on May. She was the thread that drew them together, held them together.

  ‘Happy?’ he whispered in her ear, taking her in his arms. Propriety could be damned. She had just enough time to breathe the words, ‘so happy, so proud’, before he kissed her. If every paper in London reported tomorrow that the newly knighted Sir Liam Casek’s first act was to publicly kiss his wife, that was fine with him. He intended to do far more than kiss her as soon as he could manage it, which might not be as soon as he liked.

  There would be the private reception at the Worth home this afternoon, followed by the dinner for select guests and the charity ball tonight for poor relief. He was wasting no time in declaring his reform preferences. Albermarle and Preston were adamant he stand for Parliament at the next election in one of the family’s pocket boroughs. He liked the idea, but not the method. He would stand for election, not in a pocket borough, but in his own district and on his own merits. He wanted to do this on his own, just as he’d wanted to purchase their house on his own. But he was not eager to think about politics just now. He only wanted to think about May. This kiss was in danger of getting out of hand.

  May drew back, sensing they’d pushed propriety far enough, her face flushed. ‘You’re thinking about something,’ she playfully accused, studying his face.

  Liam grinned. ‘I’m thinking about the carriage ride to your parents’ home.’

  May frowned, puzzled. ‘What’s so exciting about that?’

  ‘It will be my next chance to ravish you,’ Liam murmured.

  ‘And the next chance after that?’ May flirted.

  ‘I was eyeing one of the alcoves in your mother’s salon, perhaps your father’s library—the sofa looks like a prime goer.’ Liam gave a throaty chuckle that drew a look of censure from a woman standing nearby.

  May slipped a hand through his arm with a laugh. ‘Then we’d best get on with it. Sounds like you have a busy night ahead.’

  * * *

  They teased one another until they were alone in the carriage. Liam took her hands, his expression solemn. ‘Truly, May, do you mind all of this so very much? Everything is like a fairy tale on the surface: the wedding, the knighting, the parties—London can be intoxicating in its own way. But it’s not what I thought we wanted.’

  ‘What we wanted?’ May gave a half-smile. ‘I am still getting used to the novelty of there being a “we”. The cottage in Scotland seems like a faraway memory, the fantasy of my greenhouse and selling vegetables in the village belongs to another time, another woman; in truth, Liam, that fantasy belonged to a rather bitter woman who had given up on the world, who was prepared only to see the world in two ways; her way and society’s way.’

  May sighed. ‘Then, I only knew what I wanted. Even that was flawed, except wanting you, only I couldn’t see my way to it, how to make it work with you without losing my family, because I saw the world as offering only two possibilities: my way and its way, two irreconcilable avenues.’ She tilted her head and smiled. ‘My friends and I have a motto: nothing changes until you do. For the longest time I thought that only applied to them. They needed to change. Claire needed to come out of her self-imposed shell and Evie needed to find her confidence. But I already had those things in abundance. I didn’t need to change. I was wrong. I did need to change the way I looked at the world and the way I responded to it.’ She paused and said in a whisper, ‘It’s amazing what can happen when you let love lead. That’s made all the difference.’

  Liam nodded. ‘That makes two of us. You aren’t the only one guilty on that account. So you’re happy then? With how things turned out? With being a future politician’s wife?’ He drew her on to his lap, setting her astride. She grinned wickedly, her hips moving against him. He felt his body surge at the invitation.

  ‘Most definitely. I am looking forward to hosting teas and discussing all sorts of reforms, even reform for women. The days of Bowdler and his ideas of expurgation have outlived thei
r usefulness.’ She kissed him softly, pulling on his lower lip with her teeth. ‘A woman needs to take charge of her life in all ways and in all places.’

  ‘Even in the bedroom?’ Liam murmured suggestively.

  ‘Mmm-hmm.’ May slipped her hand between them, pressing it against his trousers. ‘Especially in the bedroom. A woman should have access to birth control, to the choice of pregnancy.’

  ‘I think I will look forward to Lady May Worth sexually educating the female portion of London.’ Liam laughed. Life would be an adventure with her. There was no stopping May, no stopping them. May was right. It was amazing what love could accomplish. Love had taken a boy from the slums, an orphan with no family, no prospects, no hope and given him this beautiful spirited woman and a lifetime of possibilities to share with her, starting right now.

  May flipped open the front of his trousers with a coy smile. ‘I know something else you’ll look forward to. A little knighting ceremony of our own.’ She put her hand on him. ‘I command thee to rise, Sir Liam Casek.’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story,

  you won’t want to miss the first two books

  in Bronwyn Scott’s

  WALLFLOWERS TO WIVES quartet

  UNBUTTONING THE INNOCENT MISS

  AWAKENING THE SHY MISS

  And watch for the fourth and final book,

  coming soon!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE SECRET MARRIAGE PACT by Georgie Lee.

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