She felt Elizabeth’s stare on her. “You know my situation,” Cecelia said. “If I had acted like a proper lady, I would not be where I am today.” Her throat ached to finally speak the truth of her heart. “Perhaps Papa would still be alive if I had been married before his ruination and he’d not had the worry of me on top of everything else.”
“You cannot blame yourself for your father’s death.”
Cecelia sighed. “Can I not?” She was not entirely certain.
Elizabeth shook her head.
Cecelia gave a faint smile. “I have no dowry, and Mama does not have enough funds on which to live comfortably. What choice do I have but to marry well?”
When Elizabeth simply stared at her, as if she thought there were, indeed, another choice, Cecelia became frustrated. “If Lord MacLeod did have a tendre for me—which his lack of attempt to see me shows he doesnot—how could we possibly make a go of it? He said himself that his clan has seen hard times, just as the others.”
Elizabeth scowled. “You need luxury, then, to love a man?”
“Heavens, no!” Cecelia exclaimed. “All I truly want is love, but what of my mother?”
“She could come live with you, if you ended up wedding Lord MacLeod. He looked quite capable of caring for you and many others. I sincerely doubt ‘hard times’ means you would not have food or a roof over your head.”
Cecelia contemplated Elizabeth’s words as the memory of Liam’s lips on hers stirred her blood. She feared her heart had been lost to him the moment his lips met hers, perhaps even before when he had bought her the book of poetry.
“Mama would never consent to go live in Scotland,” she murmured, not wanting to hope yet it sprung within her as she replayed the kiss. She was only human, after all, and the heart wanted what it wanted, despite the utter foolishness of it. Liamhaddesired her. Perhaps he had not come around because he feared she would deny him. But if she saw him and encouraged him…
“If your mother refused to go, that would be her choice. You must make yours, for you are the one who has to live with the decision forever. If it were me, having to part with the trappings of luxury would not compare to having to part with the man I loved, and if your mother truly loves you and wants to see you happy, she will think the same.”
Elizabeth’s words struck like a stake to Cecelia’s heart. She realized that she agreed completely with her friend, yet she knew well how her mother felt about Liam. She’d made it clear when Cecelia had mentioned that perhaps he might court her.
Cecelia once again stared into the fire as she considered everything. She knew her mother loved her, and that her mother was scared for both their futures so was doing what she thought was best.
“My lady,” Cooper said, snapping Cecelia’s thoughts away from her troubles and to the butler.
“Yes?” Elizabeth replied.
“Lord MacLeod is here to see you.”
“Then, by all means, show him in to the drawing room, Cooper.”
As Cooper nodded, then hurried to do Elizabeth’s bidding, hopeful expectation burst within Cecelia. But nervousness swiftly followed. She turned to Elizabeth. “Did you invite Lord MacLeod here?”
“I did,” Elizabeth replied, matter-of-fact.
Cecelia swallowed hard, trying to stifle the worry that he’d be irritated when he realized she was here. “What if he does not care to see me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. Any man with two good eyes would wish to see you.”
Before Cecelia could reply, Liam was suddenly there, consuming the doorway. Cecelia gulped at the sight of him. He was even more beautiful and more virile than she had remembered. He wore tan breeches that appeared to be made of soft leather that molded to his legs like a second skin and made her belly tingle. His white cambric shirt was open at the collar where most Englishmen would have had it closed and worn a cravat, he did not. Liam’s skin showed all the way down to the top of his chest. As he and Elizabeth exchanged polite greetings, Cecelia ran her gaze over him, soaking up every glorious detail.
Suddenly, Elizabeth stood to leave, making an excuse that she needed to get something from her bedchamber. She parted in a swish of skirts, and then Cecelia found herself utterly alone with Liam.
“Hello, Cecelia,” he said, his voice rich, deep, and music to her ears.
“Hello, Liam,” she returned, wincing at her breathlessness.
“May I sit?” he asked, motioning to the space beside her on the settee.
As he did so, she noticed his hand was cut on his knuckles. “What happened to your hand?” she asked, bringing her eyes to his face.
He did not respond at first but strode across the room and sat next to her, so close that their legs pressed against each other’s. Blood surged from every part of her body to the places where they touched.
He turned the full force of his gaze on her, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring at her. “I had to teach a cocky Englishman a lesson,” he replied, giving her such a galvanizing look that a tremor coursed through her.
