She gazed at him with starry, dazed eyes, suddenly appearing every bit as innocent as she claimed to be. She touched her swollen mouth. Her glance slid to his loins.
Liam was not aroused and would only pretend so much.
Elizabeth sighed, wistfully, then said, “You should have kissed me years ago, rogue.”
Her bantering tone relieved him. She had no intention of losing her virginity now. He laughed. “Your Majesty, I was afraid to risk my neck.”
“I doubt it.” She eyed him. Her tone no longer arch, her eyes gleaming now with something other than desire, she said, “How is Katherine?”
He jerked. Katherine, who was still a fugitive for having assaulted the queen. Katherine, his wife. “I do not know.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Come, rogue, surely she is with you on your island. My soldiers cannot find her anywhere, there has been no sign of her here in London or in the south of Ireland.”
“She is not on my island.”
Elizabeth stared, wide-eyed. “Why not? Do you not still lust after her?”
Liam did not answer.
Elizabeth’s tone became sharp. “I am returning your son to you, as you have expected me to do. You have not married her in anticipation of that event?”
“She is married to John Hawke, remember?” Liam was wary. He said no more. Not about to tell Elizabeth that Katherine had married him long ago on Earic Island. At least, not yet.
But Elizabeth appeared amused. “She is hardly married to Hawke. John Hawke divorced her months ago. In fact, he is about to marry Lady Juliet Stratheclyde.”
Liam stared, stunned. And exhilaration swept through him.
Elizabeth said, “Will you marry her?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth inhaled hard. “She tried to kill me. She is an outlaw. She deserves to hang. She is a strumpet!”
Softly Liam asked, “Can you not forgive her, Bess? Knowing as you must that she was mad with grief over the loss of her child? Can you not forgive her, pardon her—for me?”
“Regardless of whether I forgive her you will marry her, won’t you?” Elizabeth challenged.
How jealous and petty she was, Liam thought, and knew the time had come to make his second to last move. “You have sent FitzGerald back to Ireland. How is that man to hold the south together without allies? Have I not proved myself, Bess? Can you not think now of the advantages to a union betwixt FitzGerald and myself? Think clearly. I have no love for wars. I would do my best to keep him out of all forms of intrigue.”
She stared, her expression unhappy. “How clever you are. Of course I would rather have FitzGerald allied with you, than with some wild Catholic lord like Barry or MacDonnel.”
And Liam played his final, most powerful card. “With Katherine as my wife, you will never have anything to fear from her again, Bess. I assure you of that.”
Elizabeth jerked.
Liam said softly, “I do not speak of Katherine’s way with a knife.”
Elizabeth was silent, her breasts heaving.
“I keep what is mine,” Liam declared softly. “And no other man will dare even to think of trespassing onto territory that is clearly Liam O’Neill’s. Not even the earl of Leicester.”
Elizabeth paled. “He wants her still,” she cried after a moment. “He has been in a rage over her disappearance—my spies have told me so!”
And Liam felt inexplicably sad for Elizabeth, who spied upon her own lover. But he shoved his sentimentality aside. “I would kill Leicester,” Liam added, “should he even think to try to coax her to his side.”
