To say that Katherine was greatly surprised was a vast understatement. “Why?”
He blinked.
“Why, Liam? Why do you wish to marry me now?”
His jaw tensed. “I have thought about it carefully, ever since your father’s offer. I want you, but I will not force you. I want you to come to me willingly.”
“I see.” Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and she brushed them impatiently aside.
“Take all the time that you need,” he said, turning to leave.
“No,” Katherine said, sadly. “I do not need time to consider marriage to you.”
He froze.
“I cannot marry you, Liam. I am sorry. I cannot marry a pirate.” She hugged herself, trembling. “My father may be destitute, but Katherine FitzGerald has not changed. I am nobly born. I could never wed a pirate. And it matters not that my father wants this union for his politics.”
He was rigid, as unmoving as if carved from stone. His face, however, was carved in lines that suggested pain.
“I am sorry,” Katherine whispered.
“You are not thinking clearly,” Liam finally said. “You are still overwrought from last night. I will go.”
“No,” Katherine said, wiping more tears away with her knuckles.
His jaw flexed. “You have no other choices now, Katherine. My offer is the best that you shall receive. I ask you to be my wife. Other men—noblemen like Hugh—will only ask you to be their whore.”
He was right. Katherine turned away, filled with her own pain.
“Perhaps a good night’s sleep and some reflection will make you change your mind.” She heard him turn and walk to the door.
“I am not changing my mind. Oh, God!” She sagged against the wall, perilously close to weeping.
He said, “My offer stands. Think of all that I can give you, Katherine. Perhaps it will overcome your contempt for my origins, and for what I am.” He walked out.
Katherine sank to the floor. Did she ask for more than any other woman asked for? How had the world conspired to rob her of her due? She was a noblewoman. The daughter of an earl. But her life was reduced to receiving shameful propositions from noblemen like Hugh and marriage proposals from pirates. Katherine hugged her knees to her chest. Knowing that Liam O’Neill was right. That Katherine FitzGerald had no real choices left, and that she was not going to receive a better offer of marriage—not from anyone.
But she could never marry Shane O’Neill’s son. Not ever. Not even if she really wanted to.
13
Katherine quickly realized that she had one other choice.
Dusk was falling. She hurried from the cabin, not surprised to find the door unbolted this time. On the deck above she wrapped her cloak around her more snugly, glancing about for Liam. He was once again at the ship’s helm. Her pulse began to pound. She hurried forward, and with some difficulty, began to climb the ladder to the forecastle where he stood.
He noticed her at once. “Wait, Katherine.” He left the helm with another seaman and hurried to her, bent, and with seemingly limitless strength, hoisted her up. Katherine steadied herself by gripping him, then quickly dropped her hands. The feeling of his hard muscles lingered. “I would have a word with you, Liam.”
His eyes flashed. “You have reconsidered my proposal?”
She had not mistaken the eagerness in his husky tone. “No. I have not reconsidered—I cannot—will not—marry you.”
He flinched.
“I do have one other choice,” she continued, determined to ignore his disappointment, which he failed to hide. He was watching her very closely. “I wish to go to the queen,” she said.
One tawny brow lifted. “And you will throw yourself upon her mercy?”
“Yes!” she cried. “Better to be at her mercy than that of men like Hugh and you and oh-so fickle Fate!”
