by Julia London
“Liam!”
“What sort of man would leave a woman as bonny as ye, Ellie, after he’d compromised ye so completely? What bloody bastard would take yer virginity and run away when there’s a chance of having planted his seed in ye?”
Ellie said nothing, just bowed her head, avoiding his hard gaze.
Instantly contrite, Liam moved to his knees before her. “Ah, Ellie, I speak harshly, I know, but I swear on the grave of William Wallace, I’d kill a man for such cowardice—”
“You mustn’t blame him, Liam!” she exclaimed through her tears. “There were two of us just like there are two of us here! I was a willing participant and it was my foolishness that has brought me here to live like a prisoner in my father’s house!”
“Ye’re no’ a prisoner!” he scoffed.
Ellie laughed sardonically and pushed him away.
“Look around you—surely you’ve noticed! I’ve no acquaintances, save my sister. I’ve no engagements! Farnsworth has never forgiven me and he never will!”
Yes, of course he had noticed, but he had not understood why. How devastating—she had loved him, loved him enough to have trusted him. Jesu! the very thought sent a knife through Liam’s gut, and with a groan he pressed his forehead against her knee.
Ellie’s fingers curled in his hair. “My father hates me, Liam. By the point I realized I had been jilted, it was the height of the Season, and my parents, blissfully unaware of my condition, had begun to shop for potential suitors to marry me. Of course, I had to tell them the truth about my plight. Farnsworth was furious—he disowned me then and there, said I was no longer his daughter. My mother was devastated. She was so ashamed she could scarcely look at me. After a wretched two days of arguing, my parents determined that the scandal would be too great for us to bear in London, particularly as popular as I was, so my father sent my mother and me to Cornwall. I protested quite strongly—I didn’t want Mother to be punished, too—but he was quite adamant that he’d not risk my whoring about again. My parents never slept in the same house again. I lived with my mother in Cornwall, where Natalie was born, and there we remained until Mother died. Eva remained in London, but Farnsworth had lost what little heart for fathering he’d had, and he married her off to the first potential suitor that came along. I daresay she’s never forgiven me either.”
“If he hates ye as ye say, then why are ye here?”
“I don’t know! When Mother died, Farnsworth sent for me. I hoped that perhaps time had softened his opinion of me, but if anything, his opinion had worsened. He abhors me, Liam, and the only reason he keeps me at all is because of his fear of scandal. He would rather have me under his own roof then chance I should”—she looked up at Liam through wet lashes, bit her lower lip—“that I should dishonor him,” she whispered. “And Natalie, my poor innocent child…well, you’ve seen what’s become of her.”
It seemed impossible to absorb it all; it shocked Liam, but left him sympathetic at the same time, for had not the very same thing happened to him of late? Nonetheless…“Ye’re a grown woman, Ellie. Why do ye no’ leave?”
She laughed derisively. “One day I will. My father gives me precious little to live on, and I have no income of my own. But I scrimp every pence I can, and when I have sufficient funds, I will go someplace where Natalie can live without the shadow of my actions hanging over her head. I swear it.”
Ah God, if only he had the means, he’d give her the sun and the moon and the stars…but he was only a soldier, and his pitiful stipend was already devoured by his family. Liam could do nothing but gather Ellie in his arms and hold her.
They fell asleep that way, drifting off with their private thoughts.
Sometime before dawn, Liam awoke to find himself alone.
Eighteen
Reliving her story had exhausted Ellen. After years of the whole ugly tale corroding in her heart, the sheer effort to say it all aloud had taken a toll. After slipping from a sleeping Liam’s loose embrace, she had come upstairs, wearing just a chemise, and had fallen onto the old counterpane on her own bed. She was almost immediately in a deep sleep, her mind refusing to belabor her past another moment. It was a dreamless sleep, and it wasn’t until Natalie was shaking her that Ellen could even drag herself up from the depth of it—groggy, she forced her eyes open.
“Mother, you’re still abed!” Natalie complained.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well,” she said truthfully, and pushed herself up to her elbows, eyeing her young daughter. Natalie’s frock, she noticed, was all askew. “Turn round,” she muttered through a yawn.
“Won’t you feel better now? Captain Lockhart said to come and fetch you, for he’s to take us on a picnic today,” she said as Ellen fumbled to rebutton her dress so that it hung properly. “And he said he’d teach me how to fish!”
“Did he?” Ellen asked, smiling.
“He said the fish aren’t as big as they are in Scotland, and that they’d likely all float to the top and take all the sport from it, but all in all, we’d have a jolly good time of it. But that first we’d walk through Vauxhall Gardens.”
Ellen’s smile deepened. “Vauxhall Gardens…I haven’t been there in years,” she said, patting Natalie’s shoulder. “All right, then, run along and find your boots. I’ll not have you fishing in those slippers.”
Natalie made a sound of elation and ran to the door.
“Mind that you stay in your room! I’ll come fetch you when I’m ready!” Ellen called after her.
“I’m going to fish!” Natalie responded with great enthusiasm, and skipped out of the room so quickly Ellen wasn’t certain if she had heard her or not.
She sighed, stood up from the bed and stretched her arms high overhead, almost regretting that she had betrayed Natalie by revealing the truth about her paternity to Liam. Yet she instinctively believed that if there was anyone she could trust with Natalie’s secret, it was him. Ellen wandered over to the window and pulled open the heavy drapes, feeling the instant warmth on her skin as sun spilled into the room. That was the way with Liam, wasn’t it? Every day filled with sunshine, every day warm and bright and happy.
And as she padded to her dressing room, she thought that he was indeed an honorable man, a gentleman. The sort of man who could hear the truth and not instantly label her a whore. Nonetheless, she had feared deep inside that he would be daunted, disgusted by her lustfulness, and find her behavior so wanton as to believe her to be a whore.
That was a risk Ellen had taken quite willingly—she had needed (for reasons she truly did not understand so much as know innately) to be honest with him, both physically and emotionally, even if it meant losing him. She didn’t understand it, but there was nothing to be done for it now, and he had, in all truthfulness, seemed more sympathetic than appalled. And he had invited them to Vauxhall Gardens. She could think of nothing better than a stroll in the sunshine to clear those old cobwebs from her heart.
Liam was waiting for them in Belgrave Square; Natalie rushed forward to show him the scuffed boots she would wear for fishing, over which Liam fawned appropriately. He looked up as Ellen approached, his winsome grin deepened, and his dark green eyes danced with pleasure. “Ah, lass, what a vision ye are. Ye’d charm the collar right off a priest, ye would.”
As a matter of fact, she had donned her best walking gown—albeit last Season’s fashion—a golden brown brocade with dark maroon trim and a pelisse that matched exactly.
Liam extended his right arm to Ellen and his left to Natalie, who colored deeply before shyly slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. “Ach, there’s no’ a luckier man alive,” he said jauntily, and indeed, he looked quite proud of them, Ellen thought. Not ashamed. Proud.
They walked to Vauxhall Gardens, strolling deep into its bounds. The day was brilliant and blue, with just enough of a nip in the air to add color to the faces of the many people strolling about the gardens and supper rooms. Natalie dashed ahead, only to scamper back to make sure Liam and
Ellen were coming, then dashed ahead again.
As they neared the middle of the gardens, Natalie came running to them, her eyes glistening with excitement. “Come see, come see!” she cried, grabbing Liam’s hand. In the middle of the expansive gardens, a man in a green coat had erected a scarecrow of sorts, wearing the red jacket of the military on which a crude heart was drawn, a pair of torn and dirty trousers, with feet and hands of straw and sporting a pumpkin for a head, complete with a smiling face. In addition to the man with the patched green coat, four gentlemen were standing about, examining the scarecrow, and a small crowd had begun to form around them. The man in the green coat gestured to the scarecrow, explaining something to the four gentlemen, then suddenly ran to the scarecrow, whirled about, and walked thirty paces away, into the crowd. Everyone moved aside save the four gentlemen, who moved to position themselves in the place Greencoat had marked.
“What are they about?” Ellen asked curiously, taking several steps toward the group.
“A game of odds,” Liam said as he watched Greencoat withdraw a dagger from his waist and hold it aloft for the growing crowd to see. One of the gentlemen said something that made the crowd laugh.
“May we watch?” Natalie asked excitedly as Greencoat whisked off his hat and began to pass it around. Several gentlemen in the crowd tossed money into the hat.
“Ah, the winner divides the spoils with the man in the green coat,” Liam informed them, and with his hand on Ellen’s back, moved her and Natalie closer to the contest.
The first gentleman positioned himself directly in front of the scarecrow and took the dagger from the man. With a great heave, he flung the dagger toward the stuffed redcoat, but he let go too late, and the dagger speared the ground only a few feet in front of him. The small crowd broke into laughter as Greencoat scrambled to retrieve the dagger.
“They are too great a distance from the target,” Liam said. “There’s not a man among them who could spear even a palace wall from that distance.”
He was right; the next contestant sent the dagger flying, but it landed wide of the scarecrow, spearing nothing but leaves and dirt. Another man tried; his attempt landed well short of the tree. The small crowd was growing; Greencoat called for more gentlemen to play, and an ale vendor wandered close by, passing cups to several in the crowd.
Greencoat took the proceeds of the first round from his hat, then passed it again. Another gentleman had his turn, and with great theatrics, he flung the dagger with ferocious strength; it sailed very long of the stuffed redcoat. The crowd laughed as a friend stepped up and clapped the gentleman on the back.
Greencoat retrieved the dagger, looked once again to the crowd. “Come, now, who else will try?” he called, and caught sight of Liam, towering above most. “You there, sir! You look as if you could spear our foe!”
The crowd turned to look at Liam.
He grinned down at Ellen. “Aye, of course I could,” he called back, grinning. “I’d surely give it a go had I the promise of proper recompense for me troubles.”
Greencoat jingled the hat, grinning. “Half for you, half for me, sir,” he said. “There’s thirty pounds in here if there’s one.”
“That’s a princely sum,” Liam said. “But ’tis no’ enough.”
The crowd was beginning to enjoy the exchange, and moved so that there was a clear path between Greencoat and Liam. Ellen instinctively pulled her bonnet forward to hide her face.
“Why, sir, what more could you ask?” Greencoat shouted. “The prize is fair!”
“Aye, ’tis a fair prize but no’ the fairest prize, eh? It would seem to me a lady’s kiss would be just reward for such a feat.”
A happy, enthusiastic cry went up from the crowd; mortified, Ellen shrunk back. “Liam!” she hissed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m attempting to win yer heart, leannan.”
Greencoat made a show of a thumping heart, earning a laugh from the crowd. “What say you, miss?” he called to her.
“Say yes, Mother!” Natalie squealed with delight, and several in the crowd began to call their encouragement, too.
Ellen peeked up from under the rim of her bonnet and looked at Liam. He flashed a beguiling smile that simply rocked her, and feeling rather playful, feeling alive, she lifted her head, pushed her bonnet away from her face, put a finger to her mouth, and tapped it against her lips as she playfully considered his offer. “And if you do not succeed, sir? What shall by my recompense?” she asked to the delight of the crowd.
Liam’s green eyes grew brighter; he threw back his head and laughed with the crowd. “A fair question. If I miss the redcoat’s heart, I shall give ye a medal of honor, one from the king, bestowed on me during the war.”
That was met with thunderous approval from the crowd that Ellen could hardly deny; with a laugh, she put out her hand to Liam. “We have a bargain, sir. Upon my word, if you should put the dagger in the heart of that redcoat, I shall give you a kiss.”
The crowd excitedly urged Liam forward.
As did Ellen. She looked down at Natalie; her blue eyes were shining with excitement. They were having fun. Fun! She hadn’t felt so free and joyous in years, and on a whim Ellen walked forward, took the dagger from a grinning Greencoat, and flushed with excitement, turned and presented it to Liam with a deep curtsy.
The crowd bellowed their approval; Liam grinned and took it from her. “Stand aside, lass, and see how a Scot wins his maiden’s hand,” he said, and took his position in front of the redcoat. He pointed the dagger at the scarecrow, then slowly drew his arm back. In one fluid movement, he flung the dagger.
He hit the redcoat perfectly in the crude little heart drawn on its chest.
The crowd went wild and immediately took up the call for Liam’s prize. A kiss, a kiss, they chanted, Natalie the loudest of them all.
Liam turned to Ellen with a triumphant grin.
“I…I did not believe you could…” Ellen stammered as she took a step backward.
“I know,” Liam said, and before she could move again, he grabbed her wrist, pulled her into his embrace, bent her over backward, and bestowed an outrageously bold kiss for a victorious man. Around them, the crowd screamed with delight, cheering and applauding. After what seemed forever, Liam yanked her back up and let her go, his grin, impossibly, even more triumphant. Stunned by the kiss, Ellen stumbled backward and brought her hand to her mouth as more gentlemen sought Greencoat for the chance to impress their ladies.
“Ellen?”
Ellen whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. Her sister, Eva, along with her husband, Willard, and their son, Frederick, were all gaping at her in stunned disbelief. “Eva,” she said, her panic irritatingly evident in her voice, her heart pounding.
“What are you doing?” Eva hissed loudly, eyeing Liam as he accepted fifteen pounds from Greencoat.
“We, ah…well, we came out for a picnic,” she said, frantic at how her imperious younger sister, and her even more imperious husband, Willard, were staring at Liam, horrified.
“And exactly who is we?”
“Well, obviously, Natalie and myself. And Captain Lockhart.”
“I beg your pardon, are we acquainted with Captain Lockhart?” Eva asked, folding her arms tightly across her stomach as Willard stood by, his face pinched with his obvious disapproval.
“I donna believe I’ve had the pleasure of making yer acquaintance, madam,” Liam said, standing behind Natalie, his big hands protectively on her shoulders.
Eva’s mouth dropped open. “A Scot?”
“Aye, a Scot.”
Her mouth still agape, Eva looked at Ellen. “I certainly have not had the pleasure of making the captain’s acquaintance!”
Fabulous. Bloody fabulous. Eva would act the superior, judgmental part of Farnsworth while he was away. Bristling, Ellen dug her fingernails into her palms in an effort to maintain her composure. “Eva, may I introduce to you Captain Lockhart. Captain Lockhart, may I present Lord and Lady
Diffley. My sister.”
“Milord, milady, how do ye do, then?” Liam asked, bowing over Natalie’s head.
“And where have you had the chance to meet?” Eva demanded of Ellen, ignoring Liam’s greeting.
When exactly was it that she had become accountable to her sister? “Captain Lockhart has let rooms from Father.”
Eva gasped; her jaw dropped, impossibly, even lower. “He is Father’s tenant?”
“Aye, that I am,” Liam said in a voice gone cold.
Still, Eva ignored him, could only look at Ellen with outright contempt. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?” she hissed. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I don’t know what you mean—”
“Don’t you!” Eva snapped, and glanced at Willard, who was observing the whole scene with his lips pressed together, looking thoroughly disgusted. Eva forced her mouth closed, propriety suffocating everything else, and took a careful step backward, away from Ellen. “Very well, then,” she said stiffly, slicing a look across Liam. “A pleasure, sir,” she allowed very curtly, then shifted her gaze to Ellen. “Ellen? I suppose we shall speak of this at another time.”
“Oh, I’m certain we shall,” Ellen said coldly, and lifted her chin as her sister took her husband’s arm and turned him away, as if to shield him from some gruesome scene, and walked on, pausing only once to shout at Frederick, who was sticking his tongue out at Natalie.
“If ye’ll pardon me saying, Ellie, I think yer sister has pulled her iron drawers a wee bit too high.”
That was putting it mildly. As she watched Eva’s retreating figure, Ellen knew instantly and instinctively that this was the most disastrous thing that might have happened to her. On that bright, sun-splashed autumn afternoon, Ellen Farnsworth knew that her actions had just given her a mere week to find a way out of this mess for her and Natalie, for when Father returned from God knew where he had gone, Eva would certainly tell him what she had seen, and Ellen had not the slightest doubt that he would turn her and Natalie out.
