“Will you be needing anything else, my lord?”
“Please make certain that the carriage is ready.”
“Right away,” Angus gave a quick nod before disappearing.
Liam followed him out of the room and down the stairs. He tugged on the gloves society required. He picked up his cane and began to pace the foyer. Liam pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. If only this night were already over, he thought. He hated to admit this, even to himself, but he was nervous. This was his first foray into society since coming back from the war. True, he had now spent time in Parliament, but mingling with the men of the ton in a political setting was the exact opposite of being expected to dance with the female population.
“Meg, are you coming?” Liam called.
“I’m ready,” she said from the top of the stairs.
Liam looked up and caught his breath at the sight of his wife. He stood there and just took in everything about her as she descended the stairs. Her hair was piled on top of her head with wispy ringlets framing her elfin face. She wore an ice blue dress with a white lace overlay. He could see her dainty shoes peek out from the scalloped hem of her dress with every step she took. White gloves ended just above her elbow. The tiniest bit of skin could be seen between her sleeve and glove. When she came closer, he noticed how low the neckline of her dress was. The string of pearls about her neck emphasized the expanse of her skin and enticed the admirer to follow their gaze downward to her bosom. Liam stiffened as he considered all the men that would be ogling her tonight.
“I don’t know that you should wear that.”
“Why not? Is there a tear in it?” Once she reached the foyer, she spun around trying to catch a glimpse of the back. “I didn’t see one, or a stain.”
“No, it’s perfect.”
“Then why shouldn’t I wear it?”
“Because it’s too perfect.”
“Pardon?”
“The men won’t be able to keep their eyes off you, especially when they glimpse this.” He brushed the back of his hand across her chest.
“It isn’t indecent,” she argued.
Was it just him or did she sound slightly breathless? He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and carry her back upstairs. He wanted his lips to replace what his hand had just done. He wanted to lay her down on the bed, strip her out of that dress, and make slow, sweet love to her. Get yourself under control, he ordered.
“Are you going to stand there gawking at me all evening?”
“No. Shall we?” He held his hand out, indicating that she should lead the way. He let out a breath of relief when she wrapped a shawl, the same ice blue of her dress, about her shoulders, covering the expanse of her chest from prying eyes—including his. They entered the coach, and it swayed after a footman shut the door and joined the driver. The coach rattled along the road. They had about a half hour ride ahead of them to reach Sir Bunbury’s Newmarket estate. They could either sit in awkward silence, or they could carry on a conversation like a normal married couple. “I have been impressed with Legend.”
“Yes, he’s made quite the mark, hasn’t he? I’m hopeful that he might win every major race this year.”
“That would be quite a coup for you,” Liam said. They traveled on in awkward silence. “Paddy seems to be adjusting well to his new life with us.”
“Is this what we have come to?”
“What do you mean?”
“This,” she waved her hand between them. “We sound like acquaintances making polite conversation with one another. Is that the way you want us to be? We used to not be like this. We talked about everything.”
“We’ve both changed. What must I do to get you to understand that? I’m not the same man I was.”
“And I’m not the same woman.”
“Then perhaps we’re doomed,” he ominously predicted.
“No, I don’t belief that. Let me help you.”
“You can’t.”
“I can if you’ll just talk to me. Share with me.”
“I wouldn’t put you through that hell.”
“You already have.”
“Not everything.”
“Then tell me.”
“No, Megan. Leave it.”
“I can’t do that.”
Her words felt like nails scraping over his skin. “Megan, if you continue in this vein, I ‘ll be forced to do something drastic.”
“Like what, Liam? Disappear for another five years? I cannot continue to live in this stilted polite world that we’re currently sharing. I want passion and warmth. I refuse to spend the rest of my life sharing a house with a polite stranger.”
“We are not strangers.”
“We may have had sexual intercourse, but that was merely an activity we both participated in. I will give you that it was pleasant, but I want more.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, husband, that perhaps tonight I’ll find a man who truly wants to share every single part of his life with me.”
“Over my dead body,” he growled as the carriage door was opened.
She cocked an eyebrow at him as their footman appeared. The man held out his hand to her and helped her exit the carriage. She turned back to look at him and said, “It is my understanding that that can be easily arranged.”
“Megan, this is not finished,” he growled to her retreating figure. He hurried out of the carriage to follow his errant wife.
* * *
Megan impatiently waited in the queue of people to be presented to the Bunbury’s. Liam stood beside her stiff and reserved. At the moment she longed to be anywhere but here. The line inched closer to their host and hostess until finally they stood in front of the older couple.
“Lord Bunbury, Lady Bunbury thank you so much for inviting us. I am Liam McTavish, the Earl of Brookdale, and this is my wife, Lady Brookdale.”
“Of course,” the older man shook Liam’s hand. “You’ve been making quite a splash in Parliament from what I’ve been told.”
Before Liam could reply, Lady Bunbury cut in. “Dear, you promised, no talk of politics this evening.”
“So, I did. Well, then, let me say you’ve been making quite a splash on the racing circuit as well. Legend has all the earmarks of a true champion.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Megan replied instead of Liam.
“Pardon?” the old man asked, a look of confusion on his face.
“I am the one who has trained Legend, my lord.”
“Highly improper,” the man blustered.
“Queen Anne raced horses.”
“Yes,” the older man agreed, “but she did not train them, young lady. The horse must have quite a bit of natural talent to overcome a woman’s training.”
“Exc—”
“Pardon us, my lord, my lady, but I do believe I see someone over there that I must speak with. Come along, darling,” Liam ground out the endearment.
He dragged Megan away from the older couple. Several times she attempted to jerk her arm free, but Liam refused to relinquish his hold on her. He kept a grip on her as they were announced to the group at large. All the way across the ballroom itself, he kept a hold so firmly on her upper arm, that she was forced to follow him or make a horrific scene. They soon passed through the veranda doors and were outside.
“Where—”
“Not yet,” he stopped her.
Megan stared at him in agitation as he guided her to a darkened corner of the tidy little gardens. When they came to a stop, he released her arm and her skin tingled as the blood began to flow once more. She rubbed her arm tenderly. “What was that for?”
“To keep you from saying something you would regret to a person who could cause you a lot of difficulties in the racing world.”
“He is a pompous arse! Can you believe what he said? He basically said I had no business training a horse,” she hissed.
“Most men feel that way, Meg,” Liam said, leaning against a column holding up a bench swing.
“Do you mean—”
“Stop right there,” he held up his hand, not moving from his relaxed position. “What I said is a generality. You know that, correct?”
“I’m not a bloody imbecile!”
“Good. Now, how do you plan to proceed for the rest of the evening?”
“It’s too late to go back and say I was merely joking about training Legend. Besides, I refuse to play by their games.”
“I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” Liam sighed. “Megan, this is not Scotland or Ireland. These men make the powerful men where we grew up look like mere peasants.”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re playing with fire if you go on this way. You just need to be prepared for the backlash that might come from this.”
“Like?”
“They could find some reason to disqualify Legend from the race or take away his past wins.”
“They can’t.”
“They can do whatever they see fit.”
“But it would be wrong.”
“These men don’t care about right and wrong. They only care about winning. Do you wish to continue racing Legend, or have you decided racing is not in your future?”
“Of course, I want to continue racing Legend.”
“Then, I am going to go back inside and try to smooth some ruffled feathers. I hope it will not be in vain,” he said, pointedly staring at her.
Megan watched Liam turn and walk back towards the house. How could she hate him, love him, and want him all at the same moment? She fisted her hands at her side. “All right, Meggy, it’s time to pull yourself together. These men aren’t going to know what hit them by the time this evening is over.
Chapter 21
Liam was currently speaking to Lord Bunbury. Megan had been correct in her assumption of older man’s character. He was a pompous old fool who seemed to think women were only made to see to a man’s needs. Perhaps that is why scandal had surrounded his first marriage.
“Yes, my wife inherited Legend from her first husband,” Liam said. “I’m afraid he was rather indulgent of her. He and the true trainer, Seamus Hamrick, would allow her to watch them train Legend, and she came to believe she was just as knowledgeable and involved as they were.” Liam sent up a silent prayer of forgiveness for the lie.
“You need to take a firm hand with that one, son,” Lord Bunbury said. “You do know that if she continues spouting things as she did in the receiving line, it could be detrimental not only to your racing status, but also to your political aspirations.”
“Yes, my lord,” Liam said, sounding as meek as possible while bile churned in his stomach and attempted to rise up the back of his throat.
“Excuse me, Brookdale, I see some men I must speak to.”
Having been dismissed, Liam watched Bunbury as he crossed the room. There were a group of men that he joined, and soon they left the room. Was he imagining things, or had the men looked around to make certain no one watched them as they disappeared? He shook his head, berating himself. “You’ve been in the spy game far too long. You’re imagining things that don’t exist.”
The musicians began the first strains of a reel and couples began making their way to the dance floor. Liam looked up to see Megan being led out there by a man who appeared to be about his age. He watched the way she laughed and talked to the man. The way she playfully swatted at his arm. The way she allowed him to draw her just a touch too close while they waited for the other couples to join them. Liam longed to march across the parquet floor and abscond with his wife, throw her over his shoulder and disappear with her into the night. Instead, he turned to see what Bunbury and those men were up to.
* * *
As the night progressed, Megan’s dance card quickly filled. Not only were the men taken with her beauty, they also wanted to get close to the woman purported to be the driving force behind Legend’s wins. Not all men were as supercilious as Lord Bunbury. In fact, most of the men were very easy to talk to. Liam had disappeared, as usual.
“What is your secret, Lady Brookdale?” The man that currently swung her about in a waltz infiltrated her thoughts.
“My secret?”
“Yes.”
“I have no secrets, my lord” she said on a husky chuckle.
“Come now,” Lord Dervish said. “You can talk to a man about horses. You currently own the finest racing horse in England. You are the most beautiful woman here, and you have the most delightful accent.”
“Well, Lord Dervish, I was raised around horses. Legally Legend is now my husband’s horse, and thank you to the rest,” she answered.
“Yes, there is that pesky little issue about you having a husband. Tell me, why hasn’t he danced with you?”
“Oh, well, my lord, didn’t you know it isn’t the thing to dance with one’s spouse.”
“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t care what society thought. I wouldn’t let you away from my side. And if another man even thought to take you into their arms for a spin about the dance floor, well…”
“Why, Lord Dervish, you sound quite possessive.”
“Only when it involves something I truly want,” he growled low and near her ear.
Megan felt him pull her just a bit closer as they made a turn, and she allowed it, hoping her oaf of a husband would see. “Tell me, Lord Dervish, what do you really think of Legend?”
“I lost a thousand pounds betting against him in the third race he participated in.”
“A thousand pounds?!” Megan asked startled, losing her footing. Dervish pulled her close, until she could feel his sculpted muscles pressing against her. She found herself thinking that if she had met this man before Liam had come back into her life…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. “Who bets a thousand pounds on an inconsequential race?”
“I do. You see, Lady Brookdale, please, can’t we call each other by our christian names? It would be so much more pleasant.”
“I agree. I only recently became Lady Brookdale anyway, and find I’m still not used to it. Please, call me Megan,” she replied easily.
“Grayson. My friends call me Gray or Dervish. I do hope you’re a friend,” he charmingly said. “Now, Megan, back to the bet. It may have seemed inconsequential to you, but you see I saw it as a challenge. How often do you come across a horse that wins three races in a row?”
“You intentionally bet against my horse?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then you deserved to lose a thousand pounds, Dervish. I’ve never heard of such a thing before in my life.”
“Don’t tell me you are offended, my dear Megan. The odds were against you.”
“Hmph.” She let him guide her around the dance floor.
“Come now,” Grayson prodded. “It’s in the past and I’ve learned my lesson. Never again will I lay my bets against the illustrious Legend.”
“That’s better,” Megan said. The music came to a halt and the couples did as well.
“Thank you for the dance, Megan.” Grayson bowed over Megan’s hand.
“It was my pleasure.” She curtsied prettily.
“Who is next on your dance card?”
“Actually, it’s the only spot that’s clear.”
“Perhaps I can get you to join me outside?”
“I don’t know,” Megan hesitated, looking around, but still saw no sign of Liam.
“All right, it’s your choice, but I see Lord Glandon coming this way and the next dance is a reel.”
“Who is Lord Glandon?”
“Claret-colored coat, bulbous nose, fetid breath, and clammy hands.”
“Thinning hair?”
“That would be him.”
“I think a walk in the garden would be very welcome.” Megan looped her arm through Grayson’s and allowed him to guide her outside. A soft wind caressed her face as they stepped onto the veranda. “I didn’t realize how warm it had become inside.” Megan lifted her face into the rose-s
cented breeze and inhaled the sweet and spicy scents.
“So tell me, Megan, how do you think Legend will fare in the Guineas race?”
“And why would you want to know that, Dervish? Are you attempting to decide if you should bet for or against him?”
“You hurt me, Megan. Didn’t I promise you I wouldn’t bet against your cherished horse again? I promise, I’ve learned my lesson. I just want to know what I can fleece others for.”
“You are incorrigible,” Megan laughed.
“So I’ve been told,” he chortled. “Come, let’s enjoy the escape from the crush.”
She enjoyed Grayson’s company. They talked easily with one another. “So tell me, Dervish, do you have a special woman in your life?”
“Hardly,” he said. “I have several special women in my life.”
“The proverbial rake,” she surmised.
“Some might say so, including my mother and grandmother, who are in a rush to see me married and settled with a family of my own.”
“And you don’t want that?”
“Not right now,” he shrugged. “Perhaps when I’ve reached my dotage I’ll marry some young debutante and have an heir and a spare before I hie off to meet my maker.”
“I think that is rather the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Megan said.
“Now, now,” Grayson said as a pop sounded.
“What was that?”
Another pop reached them and Megan felt herself flying through the air until her back met the hard ground. A heavy male body fell on top of her making it difficult to breathe. “Stay still,” she heard Grayson whisper. “Those were gunshots you heard.”
“Gunshots?!”
“Get the hell off my wife!”
Megan groaned as she heard Liam bellow at Grayson. “Perhaps you should get up,” she told him.
“I would love to do nothing else, but I can’t seem to make my arm work.”
“I said, get your sorry arse off my wife,” Liam growled.
Megan felt Grayson’s weight lift from her, followed by a groan. A warm dampness spread over her upper arm. She looked down to see a reddish stain blooming on her dress. She held out a shaky hand. “Liam,” she whispered before all hell broke loose.
Enticing the Weary Warrior Page 25
