Claiming His Defiant Miss

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘Dinners, parties.’ May shrugged. ‘Nothing exciting.’ He didn’t miss the shadow that crossed her face, or how her eyes drifted nervously to the door.

  ‘Expecting anyone?’ His own voice was a growl as his suspicions rose.

  ‘Expecting too many someones.’ She tossed a furtive glance her mother’s direction. Her voice dropped. ‘My mother has invited some gentlemen she believes might be of interest to me.’

  ‘Are they?’ He was not particularly keen on the answer to that question. Had these days reminded May of her ‘real’ life, the life she’d left behind when she’d gone to Scotland? ‘Why am I here, May? To see all that you’d be giving up? To see how much better these men are than me?’

  There was no chance to answer. The butler announced, ‘Mr Robert Quinsey, Esquire.’ Her mother moved from the fireplace, hands outstretched, a flick of her eyes commanding May to join her. May rose from the sofa and sailed away.

  * * *

  Dinner was uncomfortable for too many reasons to list. His clothes to start, May to finish, and in the middle of all that discomfort, he had to manage making conversation with two women who were most definitely more interested in the fit of his clothes than the fish. Halfway through the roasted beef, the woman on his right got her hand on his thigh, letting it drift high enough to test the ‘tensile strength’ of the trouser fabric at the seams. During the cheese course, the woman dropped her napkin and whispered as he bent to retrieve it, ‘We’ve taken Number Five Princes Street for the season. My husband is gone on Tuesdays.’ He’d remember to avoid Princes Street on Tuesdays.

  But he couldn’t avoid the sight of May across from him, courted on one side by Quinsey, the royal barrister, and on the other side by Alfred Dunbarton, whose qualifications were dubious beyond what was apparently his wit. Liam didn’t find him funny at all. It became very apparent what May had spent her days doing. Tonight wasn’t the first night spent in matchmaking.

  ‘What of yourself, Mr Casek?’ Dunbarton enquired. ‘What brings you to Edinburgh at this time of year?’

  ‘I’m here on business for the Home Office,’ Liam answered truthfully and then, to dissuade any further conversation, he added, ‘I’m afraid I can’t say anything more. Confidential.’ He looked at Quinsey, deftly shifting the conversation away from himself. ‘I’m sure you can understand that, as a barrister. You must have interesting cases.’

  It was a fine conversational opening and one Quinsey took, but what those interesting cases were, Liam couldn’t have recalled. May’s foot had decided to crawl up his leg and stay there until the cheese was cleared away. Suffice it to say, brandy was far less interesting once the women left the room, but no less potent than the message the Worths wanted to send. He didn’t fit in here.

  If he and May were going to be together, it couldn’t be in these circles. He’d never fit in. He could mingle on their periphery, join them on occasion, but he could not resign his life to this luxury and leisure. Was that May’s message, too? Was that why she’d invited him? But, no, May wasn’t that subtle. He had questions of her and questions of himself. After seeing this, how could he ask May to give it all up? Followed by the more important question: would she? He’d asked those questions before.

  His body stirred as he remembered how she had answered that question in their dingy inn room a few nights ago and how she’d answered it in the cottage loft. Neither had been an answer in truth, but oh, how glorious her response.

  How in the world was he going to get up from the table now? Which was followed by other questions throughout the night: how was he going to sit through cards and make nice with men who wanted to marry May? How was he going to refrain from hauling May out of the drawing room and having his wicked, lower-class way with her when she kept running a foot up his leg under the card table. She wasn’t even his partner, but Dunbarton’s, something he was sure her mother deliberately arranged to prove a point. And eventually, there was the question of sleep. How was he going to sleep when so much weighed on his mind? May, Cabot Roan, the future. He simply wasn’t. His mind was simply going to run through the scenario one more time: what had changed and what hadn’t since the first time he’d laid out his heart for May.

  What had changed was what he could offer her. He was employable now on a scale that would keep May in comfort. They could afford a home—just one home. There’d be no estates in the country, but there could be a decent town home in London, or he could apply to be posted somewhere else in the great wide world of the British Empire: India, the Caribbean, Canada. There were choices if they didn’t want to stay. Or couldn’t. He could even be posted here in Scotland. Unless her father wanted to ruin that, too. One word from a powerful M.P. like Worth and his career could be adversely affected. But he rather thought Worth would leave it alone. His career had been one of his own making, with help from Preston, not from Worth, and Worth did respect a self-made man.

  Would it be enough for May? Would she come to hate him if her father continued to take a hard line and banish her? The life they would create together could never rival the generations of wealth that formed the world of Worth. Would she look back one day and wish she’d chosen a man like Robert Quinsey? A man whose very presence didn’t force her to choose between love and family. No matter how he asked the question, the answer was still the same. Yes. Yes and yes. And the conclusion was still the same, too: He had to give her up. It was the only thing and the right thing to do.

  They were hard thoughts to fall asleep on. It was no surprise that the sleep that came was restless, filled with May’s presence, so warm, so real it was hard to tell where the line between fantasy and reality existed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She had to claim him. Nothing else would be right until she did. May shut the bedroom door quietly behind her. If she and Liam were not allowed to be together in the day, she had no choice but to seek him out in the night. In the dark, she could just make out the bed and the tossing figure in it. Movement helped. It wasn’t a nightmare that plagued him but it was disturbing, whatever it was.

  She undid the sash of her robe, letting the silk drop from her body, letting the cold raise her flesh briefly before she slid beneath the covers. It was warm in the bed. It was always warm beside Liam. His body was a veritable furnace. She put her arms around him, pressing herself against his back, her voice quiet in his ear. ‘Shhh... Be still. I’m here.’ His restlessness seemed to subside and so did hers. She let the tension of the evening leave her. Nothing mattered but being with Liam. He was not the only one disturbed.

  Dinner had left her angry and decisive. It was time to end this limbo and claim what she wanted, and that was Liam. She could only imagine dinner had left him feeling the same, not only because her parents’ efforts to match her with someone else were so obvious, not only because those same efforts were designed to belittle Liam, but because she was regretting her evasive answer at the inn in Leith. She and Liam did not know explicitly where they stood with one another. Because of that, dinner tonight might have been a disaster. Had dinner created the impression that he should not be sure of her? She feared it had, when taken in conjunction with their past. Was he worried that once she’d seen all she was giving up, she would not choose him?

  He should not doubt her, but if he did, she had to accept the blame for that. He’d asked for answers and she’d not given them. The circumstances might not be all that different than they were in the past, but she was. Wasn’t that the motto of the Left Behind Girls Club? Nothing changed until you did.

  May kissed the back of his shoulder. Loving him would cost her. Her parents had made that very clear tonight. She was prepared to pay the price and hope her parents would relent sometime in the future. It was a risk and she was willing to take it. It was a sign of how much she’d changed, how far she’d come in five years. She rather hoped it didn’t come to that, that her family would accept h
er choice, that somehow she could bring the people she loved most in the world together.

  May kissed him again, her hand moving down to cup him, enjoying how delightful it was that Liam slept in the nude no matter the season. He stirred in her hand. She stroked him, whispering wakeful love words in his ear.

  ‘May?’ He woke with a foggy start. She smiled against his shoulder in understanding. He thought he was dreaming, thought her hand on his rising member would disappear if he woke.

  ‘You like to dream of me?’ she whispered wickedly. ‘Do I do this for you often in your sleep?’

  ‘It’s so nice.’ His voice was drowsy, hoarse, barely coherent.

  ‘Then wake up and enjoy it,’ she encouraged. ‘I’m real, Liam. I’m here in your bed right now and you’re missing it.’ She nipped at his ear, hard enough to prove it. He came awake with a start.

  ‘Good heavens, May, what do you think you’re doing?’

  May laughed, low and throaty, as her hand closed over him. ‘What do you think I’m doing?’ Her body pressed against his.

  His next words came slowly as he registered the fullness of her presence behind him. ‘You’re naked.’

  ‘Yes. So are you.’ They were going to be naked in more ways than one before this conversation was through. She was quiet for a moment, just holding him, just feeling him against her before she spoke. ‘I came to tell you something.’

  He took her hand off him and rolled over to face her. ‘Are you measuring me against Quinsey and Dunbarton? Am I supposed to trot out my earthly value and make those kinds of arguments in my favour? Or have you already decided?’ He sounded cynical.

  She overlooked the snub. ‘Don’t, Liam.’ She understood. He was hurting and doubting. Her fears had been justified, all the more reason she’d been right to come to him tonight. ‘I came to reassure you that nothing has changed between us.’ She drew a deep breath and whispered the words, ‘I love you, only you.’

  ‘You shouldn’t, May. I can only cause you pain. You know that.’ He drew back the covers, letting the cold air speak for itself. ‘You should go before we’re caught.’

  May shivered. Something was wrong. This was not the response she’d anticipated. ‘Liam, I just told you I love you and you’re throwing me out of bed?’ It was too fantastical to even be angry over. Yet. She was being careful not to get angry too fast. There was something else at play here.

  May grabbed for the covers. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. We are together, Liam. You and I. We decided as much at Leith.’ That wonderful, glorious night in the inn when they’d set aside their worries and the danger.

  ‘Reality, that’s what’s going on.’ His tone softened. They moved away from the edge of a fight and that worried her even more. ‘You love me now, May. I don’t doubt that. But you won’t love me, not if being with me forces you to leave all of this, your family, your wealth.’

  ‘You were willing enough to ask me to part with it five years ago,’ May argued, but her wits were slow, confused.

  ‘I was young and selfish. I should not have asked, should not have put you in that position. I see that now and I will not put you in that position again.’ He put a finger to her lips. ‘Listen to me tonight, May. For once.’ He paused, waiting for her consent. She nodded. ‘May, if you leave all of this, you will come to resent me. I’ve thought about what I can offer you. It will never match this. There will always be the danger of association, always the stigma of living on the fringe of society if we stay, always the loneliness of being so far from your family if we were to leave. You can’t win in loving me, May. You will look back and regret the choice.’ Desperation edged his voice, a sure sign that he meant every word.

  Something akin to nausea moved in her stomach. ‘You’re giving me up?’ The words hurt to say. Her throat had gone dry. For the first time, she realised how close she was to losing him, how she’d never really let him go all those years apart. The lack of resolution brought about by the nature of their parting, a parting that was forced and coerced by her father, had kept alive some stubborn flame of hope. She’d not realised how stubborn until now.

  ‘I am, May.’ His words were even and slow. ‘I won’t pretend it’s what I want or that it doesn’t hurt. This isn’t easy, I think you know that. If tonight showed me anything it was that, yes, you love me. Yes, I love you. But we can’t make it right. That love will destroy us.’ He got out of bed, beautiful and nude in the dark shadows. He came around to her and held out his hand. Dear God, he was going to walk her to the door. She was suddenly struck by a hundred thoughts at once. This might be the last time she saw him naked. Ever. He was dismissing her. The moment she stepped out the door, everything would change. Again. Then she wouldn’t step out. She wouldn’t go. She would use the old trick, the one that made things right between them if only for a short time.

  May took his hand and tugged him to her, her body ready for him, but he resisted. ‘No, May, not this time. I think we’ve proved sex can’t solve our problems, only prolong them.’ At the moment, she’d take prolonging.

  His grip was tight on her hand. ‘Come, May. Go back to your room.’ He bent and with his free hand picked up her robe.

  She snatched it, her anger starting to get the better of her. ‘I hate it when you’re rational.’ But there was no anger in her words, only thick tears. Rational and right. How could she argue with him on those grounds? ‘You’re wrong, you know. I won’t ever hate you. I will love you, always.’

  ‘You might, May. You’re stubborn enough to do it.’ A wry smile cracked his lips. ‘And I’ll love you, we just can’t do it together. You and I, it just doesn’t work.’ They were at the door now, and he opened it.

  She tried one last time. ‘There has to be another answer.’

  Liam shook his head. ‘There isn’t. I will protect you until Roan is brought to justice and then I’ll go. Goodbye, May.’

  * * *

  It was over for good now. He’d seen to it. All that remained was to catch Roan. Liam stamped his feet to keep warm. He blew in his hands to keep his fingers from getting stiff. His woollen gloves only covered part of his hands, his fingers exposed. All the better to handle a pistol or knife hilt if he needed to and in this part of town one never knew when one might need to.

  He’d been standing outside in the shadows of this pub for over an hour, after following a lead and then eventually a man back to this destination. He had great hopes he’d found a connection to Cabot Roan. The sooner this was wrapped up, the sooner he could leave, the sooner he could put physical distance between him and May. His decision had been the right one, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard. Some relationships were just doomed. This was one of them. The inn door opened and Liam came alert. It was time to shove those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand.

  Two men exited dressed in greatcoats, mufflers pulled up over half their faces against the cold as they headed towards him. Liam turned towards the wall, pretending to take a piss. No one bothered a man doing his business.

  ‘Roan’s in a good mood today. About time,’ one of them said. ‘He’s been a right bloody bastard these last weeks, no matter how much he’s paying us. He broke old Joe’s hand just yesterday for bad news,’ he groused.

  ‘I’ll be glad when this business is over. The party can’t come fast enough for me. We’ll grab the girl and Roan can take it from there,’ the other also groused. ‘Scotland’s bloody cold.’

  Party? What party? Liam put himself back together, careful to make every move look casual. He sauntered away from the wall, searching his mind for any mention of an upcoming entertainment. But parties hadn’t exactly been on his agenda the last time he and May had talked.

  Under other circumstances, he would have gone straight to May. But under these circumstances, he thought detachment was best for him and for her. He needed
complete objectivity to do his job and that was to keep May safe. He also needed the distance to ensure she didn’t see how much it took to hold to his decision.

  * * *

  At the house, Liam went directly to Worth’s study, ignoring the butler’s request that he wait to be announced since Worth was busy at present. ‘He’s not too busy for this,’ Liam said and kept walking, long purposeful strides that outpaced the aged butler. That was the problem with stately, older butlers. They just weren’t very fast.

  Liam pushed the study door open without preamble. ‘I have news you need to hear.’

  Worth’s eyes flicked dismissively to the young man scribbling furiously on a tablet. ‘You may go. We can finish later.’

  Worth waited until they were alone. ‘Well? You have news that is important enough to defy convention, apparently. What is it?’ Worth did not ask him to sit. The slur was duly noted. Nor had Worth bothered to rise.

  ‘I believe I have found Roan’s headquarters. He’s at an inn in Leith. What is more important is that he will make a try for May at a party, something soon. What is on your social calendar? Is there anything here? Perhaps something your wife is hosting?’

  Worth looked at him with dawning realisation. ‘The Christmas Masque. Tomorrow night. We’re hosting it here.’

  Liam began to pace. ‘It would be ideal for Roan. This is an event she has to be at, unlike another event where she could cancel at the last minute if we suspected anything. A masque offers the perfect opportunity for unknown guests to slip in.’ But not just any guest. He began to worry. ‘I think Roan might try for her himself. He can’t send street thugs. They’d stand out.’ A man would have to know how to dance, how to comport himself at masque. The man would have to make himself agreeable to May, coax her out to the garden or some place where he could get her alone long enough to take her. Roan could be charming. Roan would like the dare. He’d appreciate the parallels of what he was attempting to do: stealing into Worth’s own home the way Preston had stolen into his and taking something of great value.