Beauty and the Earl Page 13

  His expression was unreadable as he nodded. “Mmmm.”

  She swallowed. “Thinking about your statement about wanting to…to hurt yourself after Matilda’s death.”

  Once again, he was unreadable, though his gaze slid away from hers. “Yes.”

  She touched his chin, drawing him back to focus on her, and asked the question that terrified her more than any other she had ever asked.

  “Liam, you don’t still have those terrible thoughts, do you?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Silence stretched between them, and Violet fought hard against tears that welled in her eyes the longer it took for Liam to respond. She watched his face, and the neutral expression was gone. He was struggling with memory and loss, sorrow and pain. All things Violet wished to strike from his heart and mind forever.

  “Liam?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please.”

  He reached up to touch her cheek, stroking a wet thumb along her jawline and her lip.

  “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

  Her body clenched at that answer, which wasn’t the worst one he could have given, but was far from the best.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, voice trembling.

  He bent his head. “Violet, I haven’t thought about or been able to picture a future for so long. The one I had in mind was snatched from me when Matilda died.” He stopped talking for a moment, as if to gather himself. “But I can tell you that right now… Right now I don’t wish for death. I don’t court it or plan it.”

  She supposed that was as much comfort as she might expect, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. She cupped his face and forced him to look at her.

  “Promise me you won’t ever desire such an end again.”

  He didn’t respond, but leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She allowed the caress, but her heart broke and she couldn’t stop the tears that began to stream down her face.

  She broke the kiss and said, “Liam, promise me!”

  He swiped at her tears with his hand and sighed. “I can tell you that you make those thoughts go away. You make all the ugliness in my life go away. If that has given me meaning back to what had become a meaningless life, than I suppose you could say you have saved me. And you can walk away if you like and know that you gave me that.”

  She stared at him, taken aback by this powerful confession. And taken aback by something else, as well.

  As she stared at him, moved by his words, touched by the way he looked at her…she realized she was in love with this man.

  She stilled, still straddling him, her hands cradling his handsome face, and his eyes locked with hers. She loved him. With everything good and hopeful left in her, with all the naivety she had been able to save even through years where life had stolen everything and anything that mattered. She hadn’t realized it, but some part of her hopes and dreams had remained, slumbering until the right man came along to wake them.

  A part of her had been waiting for Liam all her life.

  She had been lucky enough to find him, and her heart soared in that moment, filling with enough love that she felt like she could fly.

  But just as quickly, the air left her lungs and despair replaced joy.

  She couldn’t be with him. Not only were their circumstances vastly desperate, not only had he vowed he would not make a deeper connection with her…but she was a liar of the worst kind. When—not if, but when—he discovered all she had done, he would despise her to his very core, and rightly so.

  More to the point, she had somewhere else to be when this was over. She had another life to lead and it couldn’t include Liam.

  So her love, so joyful and warm and true, was destined to break her heart. And yet she didn’t regret it, even as she hovered between laughter and tears. She had never expected to love someone, and she cherished it now, despite the fleeting nature of their relationship. And she would cherish it always, even long after Liam had come to regret her, or had even forgotten her entirely.

  “You have suddenly become very intense in your expression,” Liam said, laughing low.

  She smiled, hoping the gentler look would cover some of the intensity of her newfound feelings.

  “I suppose I am just beginning to want something a bit more than a chaste sharing of this tub,” she teased, shifting over him.

  He held her gaze for a moment, exploring her face with focus to his expression. It felt like he was reading her, analyzing her and for a terrifying moment she feared he would see the feelings she now held in her heart.

  But finally his arms came around her, he cupped her backside and drew her firmly against what was most definitely a growing erection.

  “Whatever the lady desires,” he murmured before he slipped a hand into her hair and dragged her mouth to his for a deep, penetrating kiss.

  She melted against him, lost in how powerful their physical connection was. Now merged with the far deeper feelings she could finally acknowledge, the kiss meant so much more and her body reacted accordingly. There was a fire that began where their lips met, and slowly it took her over, spreading down through her chest, her stomach, settling in her loins. She had never wanted him more. She had never wanted any man more.

  It was almost as if she had gone back in time, before she had ever been touched, before she had become jaded to passion. It was all new again, exciting and heated and powerful.

  And she was going to enjoy every moment, even if she knew it would end sooner than later.

  She shifted as they continued to kiss, rising up slightly to position her weeping, aching body over his. She shivered as she slowly took him inside and he broke the kiss with a grunting moan.

  “We fit so perfectly,” he murmured, resting his face against her neck so that his words were muffled as he kissed the slope of her skin.

  She squeezed her eyes shut so he wouldn’t see how deeply moved she was by his statement. When he lifted his hips to thrust deeper inside of her, she was transported away from her emotions and down into a spiraling freefall of pleasure.

  She met him thrust for thrust, crying out, not holding back, giving with her body what she could never reveal with her voice. She poured her love into him as she kissed him, stroked over him, rode him toward mutual orgasm. Her pleasure built and she reveled in it, reveled in how easily his touch could make her weak and trembling. Reveled in how passionate their lovemaking was.

  She fought to keep her release at bay for as long as she could, but pleasure mobbed her, washed over her, and she was lost to it. As she arched against him, her body quivering and cries of pure desire pouring from her parted lips, she saw him lose control. The veins in his neck pulsed, his face flushed and he cried out her name.

  She waited for him to gently set her aside to spend his seed, but he didn’t. Instead, he thrust up hard within her, and she felt him spend deep inside of her body.

  For a moment, panic overtook her. If she became pregnant…

  He gathered her close to him, keeping their bodies connected as he pressed soft kisses to her cheek and hair.

  Calm washed over her in that moment. What he had done was something intimate, something that bound them. The chances of her bearing a child at this point in her current cycle were slim. And now she had more memories to tuck away and keep when her time with Liam was over.

  And as she wrapped her arms around him, she realized how important those memories would soon be. She would have to make as many as she could as swiftly as she could.

  Liam looked across the table and smiled as he watched Violet read the paper while she slowly lifted a piece of toasted bread to her lips. After their night of making love in the tub, a night where he had finally allowed himself to feel bound to her in a way he had avoided for years, they had spent two blissful days together. Not just making love, but spending time together. They had laughed, they had shared parts of themselves.

  This breakfast now felt so utterly…normal. And once he offered to be her protector, he w
ould have this time with her every day for as long as they both desired it.

  That future suddenly felt very comfortable and happy after so many years of darkness.

  “Where is Mal this morning?” Violet asked without lifting her eyes from her reading.

  A tiny twinge of guilt filled him at the question. “He—he is in town. He is finishing an errand for me.”

  He didn’t elaborate, for he didn’t know how to tell her that the errand involved collecting final information about her. Somehow he doubted she would appreciate that.

  “And what about Olivia?” he asked as a way to change the subject.

  She barked out a laugh and pushed the paper aside to smile at him. “Olivia? Up before noon? She wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He laughed with her. “Perhaps she has the right idea of it. We could still be abed, you know.”

  He leaned closer and kissed her, lingering on the sweetness of her tea-flavored lips. When they parted, she actually blushed, and he grinned at the sight of such an innocent and unpracticed reaction.

  She returned to her reading for a moment, but he could tell she no longer concentrated. She glanced up at him a second time.

  “You know, I have been thinking about our talks over the past few days.”

  He arched a brow. “If what you recall most from our time together are our conversations, I must not be as irresistible as you have led me to believe.”

  She reached out to lightly slap his arm and laughed. “You idiot! You know you are irresistible. I think my utter surrender—multiple times!—and screaming pleasure must prove that to you.”

  He caught her hand as she pulled it away and drew it to his lips. “The feeling is mutual.”

  She bit her lip and her voice shook as she continued, “All that aside, I only meant that some of our recent conversations have come back to me. I wanted to ask you a question, but I’m not certain it is one you will want to answer.”

  He released her hand and looked at his plate for a moment. Considering their recent deep conversations had included talk of his thoughts of suicide and ponderings on loss, he wasn’t certain he would want to answer either.

  He cleared his throat. “I have been more open with you than perhaps anyone else in my life,” he said. “You may ask me what you wish, though I can’t promise that I will enjoy the question.”

  “I’ve talked to you about my thoughts of returning to London,” she began, her tone halting. “Will you ever go back there yourself?”

  He froze at the question, which was certainly unexpected. When he didn’t immediately answer, she continued.

  “I know you told me that you wouldn’t, but I wonder if your mind might have changed given recent…events.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, measuring his breathing as he tried to find an answer in the muddled emotions of his mind.

  “There are memories there, Violet. But it is more than that which keeps me from London. There are unresolved issues.”

  She hesitated. “You mean between you and your sister. Because of her marriage?”

  Liam scrubbed a hand over his face as images bombarded his mind. Images of Ava with Rothcastle.

  “Yes,” he admitted in a breaking voice. “Seeing her with that man—”

  He broke off because he wasn’t certain he could properly express the emotions that plagued him when he considered that tender subject.

  “It is difficult,” she finished for him. “Because of your hate. Your anger.”

  He looked at her finally, her gaze even and nonjudgmental.

  “It isn’t even anger anymore,” he choked out, realizing the truth of his words even as he said them. “It is sadness. I feel sadness for Ava…for the love we once shared and have now lost forever.”

  Violet’s brow wrinkled. “Forever? Must it be forever lost? Your sister lives, and I would wager she would want to repair your relationship. Couldn’t you bridge the gap?”

  He pushed to his feet and paced away from her to stare out the window over the rolling green hills. “You don’t know what you are asking me.”

  She was silent for a long while, though he wasn’t certain if that was because of her own discomfort with the topic or because she was allowing him to gather his thoughts. Perhaps a bit of both.

  Only when he heard her chair scrape across the floor did he turn to look at her again. Her hands were folded before her, but her expression was anything but comfortable. It seemed she struggled with this discussion as deeply as he did.

  “Liam, I will go back there, probably soon,” she whispered. “I ask you not to cause you pain, but I wonder if I might see you again in the city.”

  He stared at her. She had no idea of his plans for their future and yet she reached out to him, bearing her soul by asking him if they would remain connected. Judging by her expression, it was a difficult question to ask.

  Malcolm would be back, probably within the hour, with all the information he would need to have about her past, but in that moment, looking at her lovely face, Liam didn’t care about any secrets his friend might have uncovered. They could overcome them all, couldn’t they?

  “Violet,” he said, moving toward her to take both her hands in his. Hers were shaking as she stared up at him, expression unreadable. “I want to talk to you about that very subject. I’ve been waiting, but I can’t wait anymore. I’ve already taken too long. I want to act. I need to act.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Liam?”

  “Violet, I don’t want us to hope for some kind of chance encounter in London. In fact, I don’t want you to go back there at all. At least, not alone.”

  She shook her head, her eyes going wide. “I—what do you mean?”

  He lifted her hands, drawing her closer as he pressed them to his heart. “Violet, I want you to stay with me. To go where I go, to sleep with me and wake with me and continue to heal me with every smile, with every laugh, with every touch. I want to be your protector.”

  She swallowed and slowly withdrew her hands from his.

  “You want to be my protector,” she repeated.

  He had been waiting to say that very thing for days, but now that he had, the words felt…empty somehow, especially when they were repeated back to him.

  “Yes,” he said, trying to find a better way to put the offer so that it felt right. “I want you to come with me to my estates. I want you to be with me wherever I go. Violet, will you be my mistress?”

  She stared at him, eyes wide, cheeks pale. Then, to his shock, she slowly shook her head in the negative.

  “No, Liam. I-I can’t.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  For one horribly and beautifully unguarded moment, Violet saw the depth of Liam’s pain at her refusal of his proposition. There was no pleasure in causing him that pain, but seeing it made her question everything.

  Couldn’t she take his offer?

  Couldn’t she throw all else to the wind, everything she had done and was meant to do, and simply give herself to him until he tired of her?

  If she loved him, couldn’t she accept and take the consequences of that action when they came to visit her in a week or a month or a year?

  She let herself ask that question, but then the answer came clear.

  She could not.

  “You don’t want to be my mistress?” he asked, lifting his chin with all the arrogance of the highest lord of the realm.

  “Want has nothing to do with it,” she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. She was pleased when he allowed it. Even more pleased when he let her lead him back to the settee. They sat together. “Allow me to explain.”

  He nodded, a jerking motion he made only once.

  She drew in a breath. All her honesty up until last night had been part of a manipulation, a seduction. But what she was about to say, to do…it was everything to her.

  “I haven’t told you the whole story of when my father arranged my marriage,” she whispered, forcing herself to look Liam straight in the face even when she want
ed to turn away.

  “You said he arranged a marriage, that the son of your would-be fiancé feared a young bride would cause a dilution of his inheritance so he…assaulted you. That your father demanded you marry the bastard.”

  She nodded, trying not to flinch at the recitation of the most painful time of her life.

  “He wanted me to marry the son of my fiancé because my virginity was compromised,” she whispered. “But it was more than that. There were other…consequences to what happened.”

  He sat perfectly still for a moment and the color drained from his cheeks. “A child?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes,” she gasped out. “I became pregnant. And when I refused to marry my attacker, my father cast me into the street, completing the abandonment that had begun years before. I was lost, utterly bereft, and that was when I met Olivia. She took me in, explained her trade to me. Took care of me until my child was born.”

  Liam shook his head. “A boy or a girl?”

  She stared at him. Here was her deepest secret, and Liam wanted to know more about her child. No wonder she had come to love him, for he was unlike any man she had ever met in her life.

  “A boy,” she whispered, thinking of that boy in ways she rarely allowed herself to do. “I named him Peter.”

  Liam straightened. “Peter? Peter is your son?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes. Why?”

  He stared at her, his eyes wide, and then shook his head even as a wide grin broke over his face.

  “Nothing. No reason. Please, tell me more. What happened to him?”

  “I had nothing except the kindness of my friend with which to support my baby,” she explained. “But I was beginning to see how Olivia could use her assets to make a life for herself. I made the most difficult decision of my life. Together we found a kind family in the North in Romwell who took my child and raised him. They are good people, I made sure of that. They love him and do not judge me. He knows me, we write letters, and I visit him whenever I have the means to do so.”

  She realized she was weeping only when Liam produced a handkerchief and held it out to her. She took it and wiped away the tears that had begun to fall down her cheeks.