He’d tried and failed so many times to distance himself, when he’d known from the first she would bewitch him. When he’d known the night he’d gone after her in the storm that to lose her would mean his own end, and not because of the guilt he would carry.
The past days, living here, in a world so separate from hers, so close and yet unreachable...it had been torture. And despite his reluctance last night, this morning had brought another certainty. He may not like the prospects he had to offer Rebecca, but he had to at least offer them. Hear her rejection of him, of his plans, in her own voice. He couldn’t take the choice from her.
The bell at the door echoed loudly in the otherwise silent hall, tearing Liam from his thoughts. Thomas swept to the door in a blur, and Liam moaned, rubbing his hand over his face, unsure he wanted—or was able—to deal with whatever this was now.
Can a man not get one moment of peace?
Sadly, neither could he find the will to move. He cursed his own body’s failure as Thomas stepped aside and admitted an unfamiliar, elegantly dressed fellow about his own age, who rather looked like a red squirrel.
Liam strode to the door as Thomas shut it, passing him the man’s card.
‘His Lordship the Viscount Rochesdale,’ Thomas announced.
‘Mellors is fine.’ The Viscount smiled sweetly, which did anything but endear him to Liam. ‘We are, after all, neighbours.’
‘Reid,’ Liam answered gruffly, extending his hand.
He vaguely remembered Rochesdale, somewhere on the other side of town, and who must have been the old viscount, one of his father’s acquaintances.
‘My apologies for arriving unannounced,’ Mellors said with false contrition. ‘I heard you were in residence and thought to introduce myself. Our fathers were friends once, and I hoped to lay the foundations of such a connection again.’
‘Indeed.’
Liam warred with himself. He didn’t want to invite Mellors in, fosteranyconnections—but, as much as he despised having to be part of society again, he knew good relations with neighbours were always better for an estate.
Whether I am here or not.
He nodded to Thomas, who took the Viscount’s coat, gloves and stick, clenching his jaw as he resolved to entertain this unexpected guest for a short while before going to find Rebecca.
‘Have some coffee brought to my study.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Very kind,’ Mellors said with a bow of his head.
He looked a bit too much like the cat who’d got the cream for Liam’s liking.
Definitely should’ve sent him packing.
‘I do hope I am no imposition.’
‘Not at all,’ Liam said through gritted teeth, leading Mellors onwards.
Liar.
‘An impressive house,’ Mellors commented as they settled in his study, his eyes flitting everywhere, as if taking note of every speck of dust.
Of which, thanks to Rebecca, there are none.
Liam decided he didn’t like this Mellors much—and not solely because between the tailored silks and wool, and bejewelled fingers, he looked every inch the representative of all Liam generally despised.
‘Very...old-fashioned.’
Liam forced himself to return the sneer. ‘It was built by the first Earl of Thornhallow,’ he pointed out.
‘Naturally,’ Mellors conceded, a glint in his eye. ‘You should visit Rochesdale some time. Not ashistorical, but just as grand.’
I’d rather visit Gehenna.
