Oath

by K. J. Jackson

  She swayed slightly, wanting to believe his words but afraid to do so. The two of them being together while traveling, at coaching inns, at Mortell Abbey, was a very different thing than her and Tieran being together here in London. Here where the past would meet them at every turn.

  “But this is your home.”

  “It is brick and mortar, Liv. Nothing more.”

  She swallowed hard. “You are decided?”

  “I am. I want you, Liv. I want today, tomorrow with you. And that is better done at your home, or at the dower house, or at a home I will buy for us—anywhere but here.”

  She exhaled, the tiniest hope she had harbored since Tieran appeared before her at Mortell Abbey blowing into a real, true flame. A real chance at a future—no matter how convoluted—with him.

  Tieran crossed the room to her, grabbing her hand. “Come. Come with me now.”

  She nodded, and within moments she had her cloak back about her shoulders and was pulling tight her gloves as they wound their way through the back garden to the mews.

  After going into the stable to rouse the stable boy to ready their horses, Tieran stepped in front of Liv as she stood waiting in the open air. Slipping his hands along her hips, he drove her backward until her shoulder blades bumped into the outside wall of the stables.

  He stared down at her, his blue eyes darkened by the shadows, but the heat in them was unmistakable. His look was unguarded for the first time since he had stood from the fireplace. The hunger she recognized, but there was something even more interesting sparking in his eyes, almost as if he had been freed from something weighing upon his soul.

  His hands tightened around her waist, claiming her for the moment until the horses were ready.

  She couldn’t resist the smile that stretched across her face, taking over her entire being.

  A grin flipped the corners of Tieran’s mouth upward in response. “That smile. That is the smile I remember from years ago, but have not seen. What is it for? I thought you had lost it.”

  She leaned forward, kissing his chest through his clothes. “This. You holding me, hiding me from the world.”

  “Yes?”

  She craned her neck, leaning away so she could meet his eyes. “It makes me happy. And I forgot what a moment of pure happiness felt like.”

  The frown came back to his face. “You have not known happiness in the last eight years, Liv?”

  “Not since the day you left for war—even on that day, even with all the worry—I still had snippets of happiness. When you teased me about my inability to tie my bonnet properly.”

  “It was right after I kissed you by the cliff.”

  “Yes. And my hands were shaking. And you took an inordinate amount of pride in the fact that you made me tremble so.”

  He chuckled.

  She poked his chest. “You think too highly of your ability to make me quiver.”

  “Do I? Has there been another who could make your fingers tremble with a mere kiss?”

  “No. Which is part of the problem with your arrogance—it is well earned in that matter, which makes it entirely more aggravating. So I dislike encouraging it.”

  Another rumble came from deep in Tieran’s chest, shaking her body with his mirth.

  “Your ego aside, you did tie it for me with those large hands of yours,” Liv said. “That moment—in that moment I was happy. Happiness that was untinged—it held only the joy of the moment. It was the last one I remember.”

  Tieran pulled her into his chest, his right hand lifting, his fingers digging into the base of her hair. “I swear, Liv, I will give you those moments again. Married or not.”

  “By teasing me?”

  “If that’s what it takes.” He tilted her head up to him, his mouth going to her lips, brushing against her skin with his words. “Or by kissing you. Or by sliding my hand along your boots, up your inner thigh in the exact way I have discovered you like. Or by taking your earlobe between my teeth, tugging, searching for the spot that makes you hum.”

  She swallowed, a lump growing in her throat. “Or what else?”

  “My lips on your neck, moving downward. My tongue tracing a line along the slope of your breasts, stalking your nipple. Moving to the valley between your breasts, dipping downward, past your navel.”

  Her hips went forward, pressing into him through her skirts and his clothes, swaying against him with the need pooling between her legs, her core throbbing with every word he spoke.

  Another chuckle, low and lascivious escaped into her ear.

  “I know I just said married or not, Liv, but I would prefer married. I would prefer to be able to maul you in public like this without thought to propriety.”

  “It’s not proper to maul your wife in public either, Tieran. Probably less so.”

  “Marry me, Liv.”

  Her hands went up, pressing slightly on his chest.

  She had to distance herself from him, at least her hips, or she would start agreeing to anything and everything he asked of her.

  Everything she wasn’t about to give up.

  She gasped a breath, attempting to control the blood pounding in her ears. “I know what you would ask of me, Tieran. So I cannot. I made an oath to myself to never marry again. To never let another control me. And were we to marry, you would want to control me—you already do.”

  “So? Your body loves it when I control you.”

  A short chuckle escaped her lips in spite of herself. “You know very well I do not speak of how my body enjoys your control, Tieran. I speak of everything that happens outside of what transpires when our bodies are bared to each other.”

  “So we will stay in a bedroom and never leave.”

  Her lips pursed. “An impossible dream. You know that. You also know there are things I must do that you cannot control. And with that, the actions I will take would taint you. Taint your title. I will not do that to you.”

  His voice dropped to a growl. “Give up the list, Liv. Give up whatever you are determined to accomplish with that damn thing.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You know the list is none of your concern.”

  “No. But you are. And part of you right now is consumed with this list.”

  “So then take the part of me that I am offering.”

  “What part is that?”

  “The part that has always been yours—needed to be yours. The part of me that loves you—will love you until my last breath—that wants nothing more than to marry you and be your wife and bear your children. And maybe someday…”

  Her head shook. “But right now there is the other part of me I cannot deny—the part that demands vengeance and will not free me until it’s accomplished. That is the part of me that cannot marry you. The part that was created in me after you left for war—it is real in me and I cannot deny it exists.”

  Tieran inhaled a long breath.

  She could see he wanted to seethe, wanted to say so much more—to rail at her. Instead, his voice was even, calm as he exhaled. “Why is this damn list so important to you, Liv? Revenge for deeds done against Lord Canton?”

  She went rigid. “You said at Mortell Abbey you would ask no more on it, Tieran.”

  “I did not realize at that time the extent to which this list holds you hostage, Liv. Hostage from me.”

  Her chin jutted out. “Take what I can offer, Tieran. Please. Do not press for more.”

  He stared down at her, the distrust in his eyes delving into her, trying to read her soul, her intentions. She couldn’t blame him.

  After the longest moment, he gave a slight nod.

  “It’s you, Liv. So whatever part of you I can have, I will take it, willingly, happily, gratefully.” His hand went to her cheek, his palm cradling her jawline. “But do not expect this to be my surrender. Do not expect me not to demand at every turn for the whole of you. I do believe you forgot what a patient man I am.”

  Liv’s cheek lifted in a half-smile. “I remember. I remember it too well.
And I am depending on it.”

  { Chapter 16 }

  Contrary to Liv’s insistence that they could do no such thing, she and Tieran had spent the first three days in London locked in the master bedroom of the empty Reggard dower house. The townhouse, nestled a street away from Berkeley Square, was spacious, but cozy, and most importantly, vacant.

  Tieran had a few servants brought over from his main residence—his valet, cook, and a maid for Liv—and to a one, they were the utmost in discretion and only seen when called upon. Beyond that, they were alone. Blissfully alone.

  It wasn’t until late in the evening of the third day that the seclusion came to an abrupt end.

  Papers and correspondence strewn across the four-post bed, Tieran lounged in the middle of the mess, his legs stretched long under the papers, his back against the headboard as he rustled through stacks.

  Liv sat by the fire with her own correspondence that had been delivered from her townhouse. Her fingers flipping through the pile of calling cards, the reality of what life consisted of before leaving for Mortell Abbey was quickly starting to weigh upon her shoulders.

  Beyond the list of social calls she would have to attend to, there were a dozen investments in her settlement that she would need to inquire into. She still kept careful watch on all of her investments—and the men involved—just as Lord Canton had taught her. That vigilance alone had not only kept her wealth secure, but it had also increased it by half.

  Plus, the many connections through her investments had helped innumerable times as she had approached her dealings with the list.

  The list.

  She glanced up at Tieran. His brow furrowed, his eyes flipped down the length of the paper in his hand, concentration evident.

  She would need to visit Viola soon. She was near to bursting wanting to share the news of her and Tieran with her friend. To share her happiness.

  Aside from the fact that Viola had to be entirely anxious about what happened at Mortell Abbey. Liv had already seen evidence in the scandal sheets of Lord Shepton’s great and wondrous fall. And he had only been back in London two days. It would only get worse for him from here onward.

  Tieran cleared his throat, setting the paper down and picking up the next envelope in the stack by his leg. A red envelope, he unfolded the note card and quickly flipped it closed, discarding it to the pile on the other side of his leg. Two more pieces of correspondence he went through before he looked up at her, his eye catching hers.

  “Anything of interest in your piles?” he asked, pointing at the papers in her lap.

  “Nothing beyond the usual. Although, this is a much more relaxing way to go through the drudgery than to do so at my desk. You and a cozy fire are ideal.” She nodded with her head at the bed covered with papers. “Anything interesting in yours? I never knew you were so disorderly.”

  Tieran grinned, looking down at the haphazard stacks. “I have to create a mess before cleaning it up. It’s inherent in how I work.”

  “Indeed.” Her eyebrow lifted in a pointed tease. “Well, before I crawl naked back into that bed, there had better be room for me.”

  “I can set fire to every scrap if that’s the fastest way to get you back in here.” He glanced down at the pile of letters he had just gone through, the grin disappearing from his face. “Except…”

  “Except what?”

  “It will have to be delayed for a time tonight.” He started to tidy the many papers strewn about his legs, piling them crosswise as he stacked the distinct sets. “It seems I have some urgent business that does need tending to this evening.”

  “This evening? It is already late.” Liv groaned. “Can it not wait until the morn?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He shuffled the last of the papers into a partially neat mess. “I may be rather late, but I will be back as soon as possible.”

  Liv looked to the gold clock sitting atop the bureau by the side window—nine in the eve. She could visit Viola and return before Tieran finished his business.

  Looking to her, he stood from the bed. “You will be here?”

  For a second, she considered not telling Tieran that she would also be going out, but she didn’t want him to worry if he arrived back to the house before her. “Yes. But I will take this opportunity to visit a friend.”

  “What friend?”

  “My friend Viola. I mentioned her to you days ago.”

  “The one with the apple trick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it not too late for a social call?”

  She could feel his eyes on her turn to scrutiny. Looking down, she started to tidy her own correspondence, regretting her honesty. “It does not concern you, Tieran.”

  “There is only one reason you would say that, Liv.” He walked over to stand before her. “Does this have to do with your blasted list?”

  For all that he had resisted mentioning the list again in the past days, he suddenly did not hesitate to jump upon the topic.

  She craned her neck to look up and meet his eyes. “It is not your business, Tieran. You will note I am not peppering you with questions on whatever it is you plan to attend to.”

  “No, but I have never given you reason to question my activities.”

  She stood, gathering her papers into her arms. “You told me you would leave it be, Tieran. Please just respect that.”

  “I do respect that it is not my business—until you go after one of my best friends. Then it is my business.”

  “You are referring to my actions with Lord Lockston at Wellfork Castle?”

  “Yes.”

  Clutching her papers to her chest, she started to move around him. “Then I can only say to you, perhaps you should take better care when choosing your friends, Tieran.”

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Liv, whatever you are thinking, whatever you are plotting, I beg you to reconsider.”

  Her glare pierced into him. “I am seeing a friend, nothing more, Tieran. I have no nefarious plots afoot. Not tonight.” She moved around him, yanking the bell pull for her maid before stepping into the adjoining dressing chambers and closing the door on him.

  By the time she was dressed and had stepped back into the bedroom, Tieran was gone, his stack of papers from the bed now towering on the walnut writing desk by the window.

  A carriage awaited her per Tieran’s orders, and Liv took the gesture as both thoughtful and a clever way to monitor her movement. He didn’t have time to follow her, but he also was clearly intent on finding out where she went from the coachman. Mr. Niles had still not arrived in London with her carriage from Mortell Abbey—she had seen herself how poor the roads had been along the way—so unless she wanted to use a hack, she had little choice but to use the carriage Tieran arranged for her.

  As late as it was, Liv knew Viola would still be awake and at home, unless it was a rare occasion that Viola had convinced Lord Jearson to attend a function. Pulling up to the baron’s townhouse, Liv was relieved to see dim lights shining from the interior.

  Minutes and several hugs from her friend later, Liv stepped into Lord Jearson’s drawing room as Viola pulled the heavy oak door closed. The room was hollow—very sparse with no rugs, no tapestries or portraits to soften the walls—only a few stark pieces of furniture dotted the room as Lord Jearson was impossibly cheap with his coin.

  Door secured, Viola squealed and rushed across the room to Liv before she could sit and hugged her one more time.

  Her ribs squeezed hard by Viola’s iron grip, Liv laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm.

  “It is utterly fantastic, Livia.” Viola released Liv, taking a step to the side to sit on the settee. “Every day debtors have been calling on Lord Shepton—lining his front door. The public humiliation is glorious—beyond anything I could have imagined. I had hoped you could accomplish his ruin—although I wasn’t positive you could do it—but it was masterful in how you have ruined him. You must tell me every detail of what happened at Mortell Abbey. No o
ne knows how or what transpired—only that Lord Shepton’s brother-in-law has cut his finances to nothing and has alerted all of Shepton’s creditors he is now destitute. The ambiguity of it all is even better for the gossips, as they are in a furor and have been concocting the wildest imaginations on what transpired.”

  Viola tugged Liv’s arm, pulling her to sit next to her on the hard settee. Upholstered in a brown lumpy cotton, the settee held little stuffing to soften the wood.

  “It has been delicious.” Viola’s bright green eyes glowed in mirth. “Lord Shepton has been in town two days now. He apparently thought he was quick enough to London to head off Lord Mortell’s demands his debts be called in. And in those two days, all his staff has abandoned him. He has been seen answering his own door—can you imagine?”

  Liv had to stifle a chuckle at that statement—she could imagine much, much worse than having to answer one’s own door, but she let Viola revel in her satisfaction. Because of Lord Jearson, Viola had to live all of their victories through Liv, and Liv didn’t want to steal the joy from the moment. “I can. I am just happy my business with Lord Shepton is at an end.”

  Viola’s hand went to her throat. “You say that almost as if you regret his demise.”

  “I don’t—but I do regret parts of how it had to be done.”

  “Such as?”

  Liv held her tongue for a breath. Viola didn’t always care for the details on how destruction was doled out—just that it was. She frowned. “For one, his wife was devastated to find me half-naked with Lord Shepton.”

  “Half-naked? Delicious, Livia.” Viola giggled. “And why should we care on his wife? The woman married the snake. If she held him in any esteem, it is better now that she knows his character, than to live a fool’s life. Her brother will take care of her. If these first few days are any indication, Lord Mortell intends to make Shepton pay dearly and for the rest of his life. Shepton has been cut direct so many times in the last few days he will never recover in society, no matter what happens with his finances.”