Liam's Secret Son

by Carole Mortimer

  She swallowed hard. ‘What about Bobby?’

  ‘Maybe these will help,’ Liam ground out, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket to pull out several photographs. He placed them carefully, side by side, on the table in front of her.

  Laura moved forward slowly, looking down at those photographs. Apart from the fact that the clothes were all wrong, dating the photographs at thirty years or so ago, the little boy smiling into the camera in all of them could have been Bobby!

  ‘You?’ she managed to croak.

  ‘I asked my mother for them when I was in Ireland,’ Liam confirmed, gathering up the photographs to put them back in the pocket of his jacket.

  Laura moistened dry lips. ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘That you must have been pregnant when I left eight years ago?’ Liam paused. ‘From the first moment I set eyes on Bobby.’

  Her eyes widened incredulously at the admission. ‘Then why—?’

  ‘Why didn’t I say something?’ Liam finished raggedly. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to tell me! Again I was being stupid.’

  ‘I was going to tell you—’

  ‘When?’ he demanded.

  ‘Tonight. But before I could—’

  ‘I realised that your husband had been your beloved Uncle Rob!’

  ‘We decided when we got married that it would be better for everyone if I called him Robert in future,’ Laura put in inconsequentially.

  ‘Convenient,’ Liam drawled.

  She shook her head. ‘Why are you making this so hard for me, Liam?’ she choked.

  “‘Hard for you”?’ he repeated savagely. ‘What I would really like to do is break your pretty little neck! I have no idea why you’ve come here, Laura.’ He drew in a deeply controlling breath. ‘I really think it might be better if you just left again.’

  ‘Better for whom?’ She was becoming angry herself now. ‘Just what do you think happened eight years ago, Liam? Do you think I lied to Robert, tried to pass Bobby off as his son? Is that why you’re so angry? Because I can assure you Robert was never in any doubt about the fact that he wasn’t Bobby’s father. He couldn’t have been,’ she added emotionally, her hands clenched tightly together.

  Liam became very still, looking at her through narrowed lids. ‘Why couldn’t he?’ he finally said slowly, obviously not seeing any of the answers in her face.

  She turned in her seat, opening up her handbag. ‘I brought a photograph of my own to show you, Liam.’ She placed it in front of him, much the way he had done to her seconds ago.

  Liam glanced down. ‘I’ve already seen it, thanks,’ he said, pushing away the photograph he had looked at so intently at the house a short time ago.

  She nodded. ‘What you can’t see, what you can’t possibly know, is that slightly out of this picture is a wheelchair. Robert’s wheelchair,’ she explained shakily. ‘The wheelchair he had been confined to for twenty years.’

  Liam reached out to slowly pull the photograph back towards him, peering down at the images.

  Laura knew exactly what he would see on closer inspection; the way Robert’s legs were bent slightly unnaturally, his awkwardness as he held baby Bobby in his arms. Robert had injured his lower spine playing rugby twenty years earlier, had been completely paralysed from the waist down.

  ‘It never stopped him from doing the things he wanted to do.’ Laura spoke tearfully. ‘He was very supportive while I was pregnant, was present at the birth, would get up in the night and feed Bobby. He played with him for hours, never tired of being with him. Just looking at him…’ she recalled brokenly. ‘He cried the first time Bobby called him Daddy. He never believed he would be lucky enough to become a father, you see.’

  Liam swallowed convulsively, looking down at the photograph once again. ‘Were you in love with him?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Tell me, Laura!’ he insisted harshly as she hesitated.

  ‘I’ve tried to tell you how I felt about him, but you don’t seem to be listening.’ She sighed. ‘I loved Robert very much. But I wasn’t in love with him.’ How could she have been, when the only man she had ever loved was sitting opposite her?

  Was she getting through to him? Did Liam understand? Could he see—?

  Liam straightened. ‘I don’t think this is the place for us to discuss this, Laura,’ he said abruptly, pushing the glass of whisky away untouched.

  ‘Will you come up to my suite with me?’ He looked across at her with narrowed eyes.

  He no longer looked dangerous, just weighed down with a sadness Laura didn’t completely understand. But she would like to…

  ‘Yes, I’ll come with you,’ she answered softly, picking her bag up in readiness for leaving.

  Liam took a light hold of her elbow as they walked across the reception area to the lift, but the two of them moved apart once they had stepped inside, neither of them speaking.

  Laura’s tension started to rise again. So much depended on this conversation. So very much!

  ‘Very nice,’ she murmured dismissively once they were in the luxurious comfort of the sitting room in his suite.

  Liam moved to the mini-bar, taking out a small bottle of whisky to pour the contents into a glass tumbler. ‘For you,’ he offered dryly, holding the glass out to her as she looked at him warily. ‘You look as if you need it!’

  She didn’t like whisky, had never liked strong alcohol, but Liam was right; at the moment she felt in need of it! The first sip made her wince initially, but it was quickly followed by a warming sensation, seeming to settle those quivering butterflies in her stomach too.

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ Liam suggested gently. ‘At least, you sit down,’ he amended once she had done exactly that. ‘I think better standing on my feet,’ he acknowledged ruefully.

  Laura wasn’t sure she wanted him to be able to think better; she would rather he just listened.

  ‘I realise you haven’t yet told me all you feel you want to,’ Liam said softly. ‘But maybe it will help if I first tell you a few things about my version of what happened eight years ago. What do you think?’

  She thought that at the moment she was coward enough to welcome putting off her own version if that was what Liam wanted her to do!’

  ‘Go ahead,’ she assented, taking another sip of the whisky. It really was quite relaxing.

  Liam drew in a ragged breath. ‘Well, I’ve already explained what I thought of you and your emotions eight years ago. What I haven’t told you is that I—Laura, eight years ago I was in love with you! One hundred per cent completely in love with you!’ he stated evenly.

  Laura stared at him. He hadn’t— He didn’t— He couldn’t have been!

  Liam took in her dumbfounded expression. ‘Sometimes, still, your emotions are so transparent,’ he said. ‘I was in love with you, Laura,’ he repeated firmly. ‘But, as I’ve already explained, I was ten years older than you, felt you had a lot of growing up, a lot of living still to do, before it would be fair for any man to ask you to devote your life just to him.’ His expression was grim now.

  Laura moistened dry lips. ‘You said, when we met again last week, that you wished I had been this Laura eight years ago…’ she remembered slowly, that remark perhaps starting to make more sense to her now.

  Perhaps…

  She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘You couldn’t have loved me eight years ago, Liam,’ she said. ‘You could never have left me in the way that you did if that had been the case. Certainly never have married someone else within weeks of leaving England. And me,’ she added painfully.

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘After that night, when we made love, I knew I had to get out of your life, give you chance to grow up without my influence. I didn’t go straight to America when I left England; I went home to Ireland first. Perhaps you remember my telling you earlier today that my mother isn’t yet aware that you’re the same Laura from eight years ago…? I talked to her about you then,’ he continued at her affirmative nod. ‘Told her everything—’

&n
bsp; ‘Everything?’ Laura echoed.

  ‘Everything,’ Liam repeated. ‘My mother agreed with me that your parents’ death must have been a terrible blow for you, that you were bound to still be emotionally immature, that my making a clean break from your life was probably for the best—’

  ‘I wasn’t too immature to become a mother!’ Laura reminded him tautly. ‘Don’t you think that you—and your mother—should have let me be the one to decide whether or not I was mature enough to know my own mind?’ she demanded impatiently. ‘And heart,’ she added huskily.

  ‘I always intended to come back, Laura,’ Liam told her gruffly. ‘It was never meant to be for ever.’

  She looked up at him disbelievingly. ‘You married someone else, Liam,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I missed you so much when I got to America, Laura. Drank too much,’ he stated flatly. ‘Sometimes I would lose days at a time,’ he remembered. ‘I’m making no excuses,’ he assured at her sceptical expression. ‘Diana was beautiful, obviously willing. I—It only happened the once. A few weeks later she told me she was pregnant. What can I say? I married her. Only to discover within weeks of the marriage that she had apparently made a mistake, that she wasn’t pregnant, after all. It’s the oldest trick in the book.’ He groaned. ‘And I fell for it!’

  How ironic. How utterly, awfully ironic! Because back in England Laura had been genuinely pregnant with Liam’s child.

  Her expression hardened. ‘What do you want me to say, Liam?’

  ‘About my marriage?’ He shrugged. ‘Nothing. It’s a mistake that I have to live with. But it was also a mistake that made it impossible for me to come back here to you. I knew you would never forgive me for marrying someone else, never believe that it was you I loved the whole time. But when I saw you again last week—!’

  Laura had tensed, staring at him intently. ‘What did you think then, Liam? How did you feel?’

  ‘Initially? Stunned. Quickly followed by euphoria; I thought I was being given a second chance! But then you told me you were someone else’s wife!’ He shook his head. ‘Seven years ago, after my divorce, I had no right to come back and tell you how I felt about you; the fact that you were married to someone else would have made the whole thing impossible. But then I found out you were a widow, that your husband had been over thirty years older than you—’

  ‘You believed I had married Robert for his money,’ Laura recalled dryly.

  ‘I couldn’t think of any other reason why— The age gap seemed too vast for it to be a love-match. The man was almost twenty years older than me, for goodness’ sake! Then, at first, when I saw Bobby and realised—I had to rethink it all. I thought perhaps you had married Robert Shipley to give the child a name,’ he admitted raggedly. ‘At least, I began to hope that was what you had done. And then today I learnt that Robert had been your Uncle Rob. The man you had obviously adored eight years ago.’

  ‘Of course I adored him,’ she confirmed emotionally. ‘He picked me up and put me back on my feet again when my parents died, was always there for me. Always!’ she added shakily, remembering all too vividly her own euphoria, quickly followed by heartbreak on learning of Liam’s marriage to another woman, when she had discovered she was expecting Liam’s child. Robert had cared for her. ‘But I wasn’t in love with him, Liam. Nor he with me. Our marriage was that of two very good friends, each caring deeply for the other, joined together by the love we both had for an innocent child.’

  ‘How you must have hated me all these years.’ Liam looked ashamed.

  ‘Yes.’ She wasn’t about to lie to him; she had hated him—for leaving her, for marrying someone else, for not being there when their son was born. ‘For a while I did,’ she agreed. ‘Until Bobby was born, probably. There was too much love in my heart then to feel hatred for anybody.’ Least of all, she realised now, the man who had given her Bobby, given Robert Bobby.

  ‘I love him, too, you know,’ Liam told her huskily.

  ‘I know you do.’ She nodded understandingly. ‘At first, when I realised I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. It was Robert who said I had to tell you. He was even willing to go to America with me so I could tell you. He hated all the fuss that was made when he had to fly anywhere,’ she recalled affectionately. ‘But he was willing to do it to help me find you. Then we saw the photographs of your wedding in the newspapers,’ she said bleakly.

  ‘Oh, Laura…!’

  ‘No.’ She put up a shaky hand to stop Liam as he would have come down on his haunches beside her chair. ‘It all has to be said, Liam,’ she told him flatly. ‘The truth told at last.’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I was twenty-one years old, in my last year of a university degree, and pregnant—and the father of my baby had just married someone else! Robert knew that I—I wanted to keep my baby. He—he offered to marry me, to take care of both me and the baby. Now we come to the difficult bit, Liam.’ She looked up at him with tear-wet eyes.

  He squeezed her hand. ‘If it’s any consolation, Laura, I know I deserve whatever you’re going to say next.’

  She stood up, putting down the glass of whisky she had only sipped at. ‘It isn’t a question of deserving anything, Liam,’ she told him. ‘If I had been different eight years ago, perhaps none of this would have happened. But the fact of the matter is we are both who we are, what we are. And if you had asked me to marry you eight years ago, Liam, then I would have said yes.’ She again answered the question he had once put to her. ‘But, with hindsight, I—I have to say that I wouldn’t change a single thing about what actually did happen the last eight years!’

  His throat moved convulsively. ‘Because you married the man you loved after all…?’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening to a single thing I’ve said, Liam?’ she challenged impatiently, her expression one of exasperation now. ‘I loved Robert; I wasn’t in love with him. But…’ She paused, drawing in a deep breath. ‘I have to be honest with you, Liam, and tell you that I can’t regret my marriage to him. He was a wonderful husband and father; neither Bobby or I could have had better.’ There, she had said it!

  Because it had to be said. If there were to be any future relationship at all between Liam and herself, even that of friendship just for Bobby’s sake, then Liam had to understand she regretted making none of the choices that had been open to her, that she would never have a denigrating word said about Robert, on any subject, within her hearing.

  She hadn’t been in love with Robert, but she had loved him deeply, and she knew that Bobby felt the same about the man he had known as his daddy. How Liam, with the knowledge that he was Bobby’s biological father, intended dealing with that she had no idea. But he would have to deal with it in a way that was acceptable to her. Otherwise she would fight all the way any claim he tried to make on Bobby. She owed Robert that, at least.

  Liam looked across at her with narrowed, thoughtful eyes. ‘You asked me a short time ago why I hadn’t told you that I knew I was Bobby’s real father,’ he began slowly. ‘My answer was I was waiting for you to tell me. But there’s a lot more to it than that, Laura,’ he continued firmly as she would have spoken. ‘Being a father isn’t about impregnating a woman. It’s being there for her during the sometimes scary days of pregnancy, being at her side during the birth, helping to care for and nurture the child once it’s born. All the things that Robert did, in fact,’ he acknowledged. ‘The deep affection you had for him once frightened the hell out of me—eight years ago I thought you felt more for him than you did for me! But it doesn’t frighten me any more, Laura. Now I’m just grateful to him. For being there for you, and Bobby, when I couldn’t be or simply wasn’t,’ he admitted sadly.

  The tears were swimming in Laura’s eyes now. ‘Do you really mean all that?’ she breathed.

  ‘Of course I mean it,’ he replied. ‘I’m not expecting to just walk into Bobby’s life, announce that I’m his real father and take over that role as if it’s my right! Because it isn’t. I have to earn that right. I
n the same way I have to earn the right to tell you I’m still in love with you,’ he carried on. ‘That I’ve never stopped being in love with you,’ he added emotionally.

  ‘Oh, Liam…!’ she choked tearfully.

  ‘Is that, Oh, Liam, you’ll never be able to convince me of that?’ he asked. ‘Or is it, Oh, Liam, I’ll let you try if it’s what you really want to do?’ He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

  Laura drew in a deep breath; it was now or never! ‘It’s, Oh, Liam, I do love you,’ she admitted shyly, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

  He became very still, eyeing her warily. ‘Is that, I love you, Liam, or is that, I’m in love with you, Liam?’

  She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Which do you think?’

  He raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘After the confusion of the last week—I have no idea!’ he admitted. ‘Although I’m hoping it’s the latter,’ he added. ‘You have no idea how much I’m hoping that!’

  Oh, she thought she did—if it was anything like the way she felt!

  ‘I love you very much, Laura. I’ve never stopped being in love with you,’ he assured her. ‘And, if you’ll give me the chance, I would like the time to convince you of that.’

  She took a step towards him. ‘Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time already?’ She took another step.

  Liam covered the short distance that was left between them, sweeping her into his arms, holding her so tightly against him he was in danger of snapping her in half. ‘I love you, Laura! I love you so much it hurts!’ He groaned into the softness of her throat. ‘I never want to be without you again!’

  She could feel him shaking as she put her own arms about his waist and held him just as tightly as he was holding her. ‘You won’t be,’ she promised. ‘Not ever again!’

  As his mouth claimed possession of hers, lips moving passionately against her, sipping, tasting, Liam desperate to make her a part of him, Laura knew that this time they wouldn’t be parted by anything, or anyone.

  This time it was for ever…