Her mouth opened in surprise. It was obvious Margaret never expected him, a peasant who had to scrape and scratch just to survive, to break things off with her. For a moment her calm expression crumpled, revealing genuine hurt and disappointment, but she quickly masked it with the chilly aloofness she reserved for servants and shopkeepers. Liam had never been on the receiving end of it before, but maybe it was better this way.
“You’re certain?” she asked calmly, leaning forward until the moonlight fell on the perfect rise of her pale breasts above the neckline of her gown. The scent of expensive French perfume wafted in the air between them. “I’ve grown rather fond of our arrangement. It would be quite tedious for me to have to look...” her eyelashes fluttered coyly “...elsewhere.” If she was trying to make him jealous, she needn’t bother. Since the moment he’d climbed through Cora’s window last night, he was a changed man.
“Do what you feel you must,” he said gently. “It’s not my business.”
She jerked back. “You’re not acting like the man I know.”
“Perhaps I’ve changed.”
Margaret regarded him shrewdly, then sucked in a breath. “There’s someone else, isn’t there? You’ve met someone.” It sounded like an accusation.
He dipped his head. “Aye, I have. But—”
“Who is she?” Margaret demanded. “Surely not the baker’s daughter? I’ve seen her making calf eyes at you and every other man on the street. Tell me you’re not that stupid. Her giggling alone is enough to drive a man to drink.”
“It’s not her.”
“Then who, the bowlegged laundress? The widow who runs the dress shop?”
Liam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You and I have never had a future together, Margaret. We were just having a bit of fun, after all. It’s time we both moved on from whatever this...thing was between us.”
She pulled back farther into the shadowed carriage, but not before Liam saw the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.
Liam felt a sudden pang of guilt. He knew she was deeply unhappy in her marriage. Her husband was decades older than her, and he treated her like one of his possessions. “I’m sorry, Margaret.”
“Do not apologize again,” she said quickly. “I quite agree, anyway. We were just having a bit of fun, and it’s better to end it now before it grows dull.”
“I do hope we can still remain—”
“Friends?” She let out a derisive huff. “What would we do, meet for tea in the village? Go on picnics and Sunday strolls through town? You know as well as I that isn’t possible.”
No. It wasn’t. Liam remained silent, because there wasn’t anything he could say.
Finally, Margaret rapped her knuckles on the carriage ceiling and turned away. “Goodbye, Liam. Whoever this woman is, I hope she’s worth it.”
She is.
The driver snapped the reins, the horses lurched forward, and Liam watched as Margaret’s carriage disappeared down the road. He thought about Cora, alone in that tomb of a house surrounded by nothing but scattered dust motes and faded memories of happier times when her mother was still alive. Cora was like a rare, blooming flower in a forgotten winter garden. He didn’t deserve her; he never would. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. He was a thief, after all. Taking things he didn’t deserve came as naturally as breathing, and he was very good at it.
Liam’s mouth kicked into a smile as he made his way home, his head filled with plans, his blood fueled with determination, and his heart brimming with hope.