My Steadfast Love by Melissa Limoges

Author:Melissa Limoges
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2018-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

NORA HAD REFUSED to speak a word the entire time Liam tailed her through the village. He allowed her to fume in silence, or at least until they reached the privacy of her cottage. Though, he managed to wrangle the basket from her, but not without earning an affronted scowl from the woman. Oh, she was as riled as a spitting kitten, and he knew precisely what upset her.

He’d heard every vile word Beatrice spat at the women. The damning moment he anticipated with Nora had arrived to his utter chagrin. He’d have to speak the truth of his past—a task he reviled as much as shearing sheep.

When they arrived at her cottage, she threw open the gate with enough force so that the blasted wooden planks swung back toward him. Lifting the basket higher, he raised his knee to prevent a direct hit to the groin. If he did not dread what was to come, he might’ve laughed at her fit of temper. ’Twas a rather endearing sight. Of course, mentioning so would simply enrage her more.

Unlatching the door, she pushed inside and spun to face him. She snatched the basket from his arms, dropping the carrier on the dirt floor without a care. Her face flushed bright red and anger sparked in her dark eyes.

“Thank you for the aid, my lord.” Her tone was as chilled as the loch he bathed in.

She attempted to shut the door in his face, but he slapped his palm on the wood, pushing the door wider.

“Wait just a damned minute.”

Her slippered foot kicked the wicker basket, knocking it over and scattering flowers over the ground. She puffed out a frustrated sigh. “Leave me alone, Liam.”

“Nay, I shall not.” Determined to speak to her, he stepped inside and pushed the door shut, leaning his back against the timber. “At least until you hear me out.”

“Why should I bother?” She spun away and stalked to the hearth. “I have no wish to hear of your trysts with Beatrice.”

Growling in frustration, he banged the back of his head against the door. “For Christ’s sake, I did not bed that horrid woman. You’d believe the rubbish she spouted rather than me?”

With her back to him, she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she poked at the crackling flames, shoving embers around in the stone hearth. Her stubborn silence pricked his anger.

He’d been naught but honest with her from the start. Granted, he was not proud of his past and some of the things he’d done, or rather, had not done. But what reason did he have to lie to her?

Pushing away from the door, he strode to her and gripped her taut shoulders, tugging her to face him. “Talk to me, woman.”

“Nay,” she shouted and jerked away from him. She retreated to the small cot in the corner along the wall and sank down on the edge. Leaning her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her hands. “Why did you make me care for you?”

His heart stuttered over the anguished admission.

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