Liam inclined his head. Tense now, waiting.
“I must have some hold upon you, some great hold, to make you adhere to your part of the bargain.”
His heart lurched. Katherine. Would she try to use Katherine against him—or offer Katherine to him as an enticement? That last possibility was exactly what he wanted. “What do you think of, Your Majesty?” he asked softly.
“The child,” she said.
Liam started. His mind raced. Hundreds of years ago, for many centuries, children had been used frequently as political pawns, yet he could not believe that this was the queen’s intent. Not in this modern age.
But he was very wrong. “After the child is born it shall be removed to my household,” the queen stated. “And your son will be a hostage for your good behavior. When you deliver FitzMaurice to me, I shall deliver your son to you.”
Liam stared, stricken. He recalled growing up at court. He had never dreamed his own child might be raised here—and endure the exact same cruelty as he himself had. He could not bear the notion.
“Liam?” Elizabeth asked, her tone puzzled.
He did not really hear her. Visions of his small son—or daughter—surrounded by a crowd of mocking English youth, assailed him, tormented him. He wet his lips. Afraid. He had never doubted his ability to entrap and capture FitzMaurice before, but suddenly now, the possibility raised itself. It frightened him. And then what would happen to his child? “If I fail to deliver the papist?” he asked, his voice rough, sounding strange.
Elizabeth squinted at him. “If you do not deliver FitzMaurice, I will find some proper Englishman, one loyal to me, to foster the babe.”
He found it difficult to breathe.
“And I will send my best sea captains after you,” Elizabeth added, “to return you to the Tower, where you will stay.”
He had no choice. For the child’s sake, an innocent life that must not suffer because of him, he would win. Trying very hard not to show his distress, certain that he failed, he said, “I will deliver FitzMaurice. But you will return Katherine to me, along with the child.”
“Oh ho!” the queen cried. “Nay, I will not!”
Liam stiffened.
“Katherine remains with her husband, John Hawke. And this is not a negotiation, rogue, this is my single offer to you. Bring me FitzMaurice, and I will give you your child.”
His heart beat hard. Painfully so. He had come so far, risked so much, in order to gain the woman he loved. The child alone was not enough—would never be enough.
Liam took a deep breath. The game was not over yet. There was much play still to be had. After all, Gerald was still in exile in Southwark, so the delivering of Katherine to him, Liam, was yet premature. And he did not inform Elizabeth of the fact of their marriage, because if he wound up hanging, then John Hawke would provide for her and his son.
And suddenly Liam’s gaze met Cecil’s. He knew instantly that Burghley comprehended him completely, yet somehow, he was not surprised. He also sensed that he had an ally. There was a hint of encouragement in his eyes. Liam recalled how, five years ago, William Cecil had been adamantly against the dispossession of Desmond’s earl. Their gaze held for another moment, and then Liam returned his attention to the queen. “Hawke does not wish to divorce her?”
Elizabeth said, “He is a noble man. He will do his duty to her. Nor will I try to persuade him otherwise.Youcannot have her. I will not change my mind on that score.Already I suspect that somehow she is the one who has led you astray. You will have to forget the girl, Liam, and direct your manly appetites elsewhere.” Elizabeth had grown flushed.
Liam said nothing. Then, casually, he shrugged. “You misunderstand. I want the woman for the child, not for myself. My own pleasure can be taken anywhere.”
“Indeed?” Elizabeth stared at him, but her mouth had softened. “Do you tire of her already?”
“Bess, come, do you think me a man capable of love?”
Elizabeth regarded him. “I do not think any man capable of love,” she finally said. “I think all men are ruled by what they cherish beyond all else, that unruly appendage kept in their codpieces. But she is very beautiful, and very wicked. She has seduced both Leicester and Ormond. And, of course, you.”
Liam refrained from a rebuttal, but his pulse quickened. Did Elizabeth speak literally? He was sickened at the thought. But it no longer mattered. He would forgive Katherine anything that she had done in order to aid him. But he remarked closely the queen’s rampant jealousy—and her evident fear of a beautiful rival. He realized then how easy it would be later to lead Elizabeth—exactly where he wished her to go.
“Well?” Elizabeth peered at him. “Do you accept my terms or not? After the babe is born, I will take him into my household. Then you shall appear to escape. When you bring me FitzMaurice, I give you the child. Not a moment sooner.”
Liam nodded. “I accept,” he said. He took the queen’s hand, bent over it, kissed it. “And I promise you that I will not fail you. As always, it is you I serve.”
“I doubt that,” she said, but her cheeks flushed with color.
He looked into her eyes. Seeing not the all-powerful queen, but the jealous, desperate woman. He could still win. For he had one more move up his sleeve, yet he would not use it until the very end. Then he would play her fear of Katherine’s ability to seduce her favorite, Leicester against her—when it was time to collect the prize.
Hawkehurst
