Page 21 of The Secret of My Seduction
She turned over and went up on her elbows to look down at him. The steel gray of dawn gave just enough light for her to make out his features, relaxed and so handsome, it made her chest hurt. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.” He gave a lazy grin. “How dare you impugn my honesty.”
“No!” She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t believe you were ever terrified or intimidated by your mother. You’re impervious. You do exactly as you wish, and don’t care a fig for anyone’s opinion of you.”
“You think not?” His grin lingered, but his gaze was more thoughtful. “Everyone cares for someone else’s opinion—even if only one person’s. No one is impervious.”
“You give every appearance of it,” she told him.
“Well.” He pulled her against him. “Let me disabuse you of that notion.” He rolled over her, nuzzling her neck until she laughed, and then there was no more conversation.
He walked her to the carriage an hour later. It was early, the sky pale gold and the ground dewy. The roses were in bloom, and in the brief moment when Liam turned to hand her valise to the coachman, Bathsheba thought it was the most perfect day of all time. On impulse, she flung her arms around Liam’s neck when he turned back to her.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
He caught her, his hands on her back. “For what, specifically?”
She kissed him. “For everything,” she said softly. “It was all I hoped for and more.” Bathsheba gave a tremulous smile. “You fulfilled our bargain perfectly,” she said, reminding herself that this was important to clarify.
“Our bargain,” he echoed, suddenly serious. “Bathsheba, that bargain—”
A shout made them both start. A horse was trotting down the lane toward them, a gentleman in tweed on his back. Liam swore under his breath as Bathsheba froze. Her heart kicked painfully hard; she didn’t want anyone to see her leaving Liam’s house at dawn, no doubt looking as though she’d spent the night in debauched pleasure.
“Damn it,” said Liam under his breath. He yanked open the carriage door. “You’d better go.”
She yanked up the hood of her cloak. “Yes.” She was already jumping in, keeping her head down. “Good-bye.”
He didn’t even reply, merely closed the carriage door and barked at the coachman to drive. Bathsheba huddled well away from the window, keeping her face hidden. The rider openly stared as the carriage passed him, but she turned away, holding her breath until the carriage was well past him.
Who had come to call on Liam so early in the morning? Had he seen her well enough to identify her? And by all the saints, could he be trusted not to spread rumors that would ruin her?
Liam forced himself to keep his eyes on his brother and not on the carriage carrying Bathsheba away. He wanted to curse in frustration at the timing of the interruption, spoiling the moment when he was about to confess to Bathsheba that he’d stopped thinking of that bloody bargain a long time ago. He should have told her last night, but like a coward he’d put it off. In the morning, he’d told himself, he would tell her, and even hint that his heart was engaged. Liam had never told a woman he loved her, and it had seemed like a sound plan to work toward that moment gradually.
But somehow all the hours of the night had sped by, with Bathsheba in his bed, in his arms, burrowing into his very soul. And now she was gone, before he managed to find the right moment to speak, and his rotter of a brother was here, which did nothing to help his temper.
“What do you want, Angus?”
His brother swung off his horse, his face alive with interest. “Is that the woman who threw herself at you? The one who tossed up her own skirts for you?”
“None of your affair,” Liam bit out. “What do you want?”
Angus swiveled on one heel to peer after the departing carriage, then back. “It was, wasn’t it? Quite the devil, aren’t you?” Grinning like a fiend, he punched Liam in the shoulder. “I didn’t get a good look, but she appeared a fetching little woman.” He made a show of looking Liam up and down. “And I see you’re just out of bed, so she must have many charms!”
Liam glared at him. He’d dressed quickly and haphazardly, not intending to see or be seen by anyone except Bathsheba. “If you rode out here at dawn trying to catch me in an assignation—”
“If I did, then it worked!” Angus roared with laughter. “No, I was entirely sure you were lying about that and had no thought you’d be rushing her out the door. Is she married? You’d better hope her husband’s a careless fellow, or too big a fool to notice his wife is letting you plow her field.”
Liam had his brother’s cravat in his hand before the last word. “Stop there,” he snarled. “Not one bloody word to anyone about her, do you hear me?”
Angus blinked, shocked, but still enjoying Liam’s anger too much. “Why should I? It’s not my place to spoil youramour…” He paused, looking sly. “Although you’d better be more discreet about it, if you want to keep her a secret.”
“Perhaps I’ll hire guards to patrol my property and shoot anyone who trespasses.” He shoved Angus away and turned toward the house. “Go away.”
“But I came to tell you John Winston is leading a shooting party on the heath today,” Angus said, dogging his heels. “He spied a flock of geese. Will you come, or have you had too much sport today?”
Liam stopped, not needing to turn around to know Angus wore a wide, toothy grin. “No.”
“Worn you to a nub, has she?” Angus chortled again. “Drained you dry? I confess, my curiosity about this woman grows and grows.”
