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Emeline’s lips twitched. “Go on,” she encouraged gently.
“Four years older than I, she was a widow and the much cosseted and pamper daughter of a moderately wealthy London merchant. When she turned her attention to me, I was flattered. At one and twenty, full of myself and arrogant as hell, I allowed her to turn my head.”
He hesitated to tell her this next part. It made him seem like a callow youth.
He had been.
“And…?” Her gaze remained inviting and encouraging but a slightly tinny tone colored her voice. This was difficult for her, as well.
“Kristin was beautiful, confident of her loveliness, and we soon became lovers.” He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he could as easily shut out the memories. “I ignored all the signs that she was more interested in becomin’ Baroness Penderhaven. I dinna think she even realized a feudal baron isna part of the aristocracy. Her parents denied her nothin’ and made it clear they’d welcome a match between us despite our vast differences. As enamored of her as I was, I wasna ready to commit to marriage. So she and her crafty mother decided to entrap me. They arranged for me to be caught in a…compromisin’ situation with her.”
Emeline stiffened, radiating outrage. “That’s utterly despicable.”
“She also claimed she was with child, so we wed. I stupidly believed her and believed we could be happy, even though I kent she was spoiled. Even after I discovered she wasna with child as she’d claimed. The first year was tolerable.” He rubbed his stubbled chin.
“But…?” she gently prompted.
Liam knew she asked for his sake. So he’d finally be freed from his past, not because she had any craving to know the sordid details.
“But after the bairns came,” he said, “she drank more and more, and kept threatenin’ to take the wee ones and leave. I couldna bear the idea, and although, as a man, I had the legal control of our children, I didna want to deprive her of them. In her way, Kristin loved the bairns, and children need a mother. Even if she isna a very good one.” His voice had dropped to a rough whisper, whether from talking so much or from the anguish Kristin’s betrayal had wrought, he couldn’t say.
“I’m sorry, Liam.” Emeline gripped his hand. “She sounds like a tortured soul who thought ye were the answer to her unhappiness and grew increasingly bitter when she realized ye werena.”
“Where did ye acquire such wisdom?” He stroked her cheek.
She chuckled. “Ye’d be amazed at what I heard in my aunt’s shop, some of which was useful, but mostly tattle that burned my innocent ears.”
“I was a gullible idiot, and my foolishness cost my precious bairns their lives.” He blinked away the moisture blinding him.
She propped herself on an elbow, her intelligent eyes scouring his face. She traced his scar then pressed a kiss to the jagged flesh. If he hadn’t been as frail as a new born foal, he’d have taken her right then and there. Made her his for all time.
“What could ye have done differently?” she asked, the question sincere. “She came to yer bed willingly when there was nae understandin’ between ye. As widow, she kent what to expect. When she lied and said she was with child, ye did the honorable thing and married her. And when she grew more and more difficult, ye still tried to be honorable for the sake of yer children.”
She made it sound so reasonable, so matter of fact. She readily absolved him for the things he’d had no control over. God knew he didn’t deserve such forgiveness.
Compassion crimping her eyes, she shook her head. “I canna think ye could’ve done anythin’ differently. Ye werena the problem. She was.”
“I also killed yer brother,” he said, more abruptly than he’d intended. “I dinna ken how, but he kent we were comin’. He had four men waitin’ to ambush us.”
“Did ye have any other choice?” The color drained from her face, but she didn’t break eye contact.
Drawing his mouth into a grim line, Liam gave one short jerk of his head. “I tried to take him alive, but he was crazed with rage and jealousy. He swore he’d never rest until ye were dead. I am sorry, though. He was yer kin, even if ye didna ken him.”
“I have a sister, too.”
Liam angled his head, interest in his eyes. “Ye do? How do ye ken?”
Emeline succinctly told him about the wills, the birth and marriage records, and the letters from her father and sister.
“It seems, I’m an heiress.” Two lines creasing her brow, her expression took on a faraway look. “I think I shall have to write my sister, at the very least. Or perhaps, invite her here. I dinna think she has anyone now.”
“What if she’s like her brother?” Liam didn’t like the idea at all. He knew firsthand how conniving women could be. The sister had gone from being a woman of substance and position to an illegitimate progeny with few, if any, prospects, unless things were a far cry different in France than England or Scotland.
She shook her head. “I dinna think she is. He name is Jeannette, and she sent a letter, too. In it, she was very gracious.”
“Enough talk of negative things.” Wincing, he turned slightly onto his side, gritting his teeth, and opened the bedside table and withdrew the ring box. He removed the ring and dropped the box before turning back to her. “I have the most wonderful woman in the whole of the world in my bed, and I need to ask her somethin’ verra important.”
He slipped the ring on her finger, delighted the color almost exactly matched her glorious eyes.
Hope vied with doubt in Emeline’s expressive gaze as she looked at the ring. Her attention dipped to his lips for a half-second, and she said with caution, “But ye said ye’d never marry me.”
“I was an unmitigated arse. An absolute inconsiderate, selfish dolt. Please, forgive me, leannan, I—” Stopping abruptly, he scowled.
“What is it, Liam?”
“Now that ye’re an heiress, perchance ye’re no’ interested in weddin’,” he said. “Mayhap, ye want to travel—”
“Hush, ye silly man.” Emeline rolled closer, placing her left hand on his chest over his heart. “There’s nothin’ on this earth I’d rather do than marry ye.”
“Are ye absolutely certain?” She must be. He’d not marry her if she had a single doubt.
She raised her head to plant a kiss on his mouth. “Aye, my Highland warrior.” A deliciously naughty gleam entered her eyes as she slid her hands over his shoulders. “Aye. Let me show ye how much.”