Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(38)

She stared at him, but he merely took a drink of his wine, watching her.

Had her happiness been a sham? At the time she hadn’t thought so. Life with William had been perfect, it seemed. He was away for long periods, true, but when he did come back it was like a honeymoon every time.

She frowned, troubled by the thought. What would her marriage have been like if William hadn’t been a sea captain? If they’d lived together day in and day out like most married couples?

Silence heaved a sigh and looked around the table. No one was paying them any mind—although she suspected that was more because of Mickey O’Connor’s presence than that they hadn’t noticed her tears.

She turned back to Mr. O’Connor. “Where are your women?”

His mouth curved slightly. “What women?”

She waved a hand, wondering if she’d drunk too much wine with her meal. “The women you always have. Your… your whores.”

He took a sip of wine and set down his glass. “Gone.”

She wrinkled her brow. “Oh.”

“Are ye disappointed?”

She bristled. “What do you know of how I feel or think?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he waved a youth over. The boy held a tray of sweets. Mickey O’Connor’s hand hovered over the selection before he chose something with a candied cherry on top. He turned back to her with the sweet in his hand. “That’s the fascinatin’ thing about ye, Silence, m’love. I know what me men will think afore I tell them we’re raidin’, what me whores will think at the end o’ a night, even what Lad will think about tomorrow—mostly me bed and a nice stew bone. But ye—ye I cannot fathom. I look into yer pretty green-brown-blue eyes, and I haven’t the tiniest idea what yer thinkin’ about. What ye truly feel.”

Silence stared at him in wonder, then blurted, “Why should you care?”

“That,” said Mickey O’Connor, holding the sweet to her lips, waiting while she accepted it into her mouth, then smiling almost as if he could taste the melting sugar on her tongue himself, “is a very good question.”

Chapter Seven

As soon as dark fell in the king’s garden, a bird’s song filled the air. Three notes and the other two nephews were nodding their heads, but Clever John had his ears stopped so he could not fall under the spell of the sweet birdsong. As soon as the king’s nephews were asleep, a wonderful bird alit on the cherry tree. Its feathers were every color of the rainbow. The bird began pecking at the king’s cherries. But up jumped Clever John and seized the bird by its delicate neck.

Whereupon the bird turned into a lovely—and quite nude—woman….

—from Clever John

Mick watched as Silence ate the confection from his fingers. He felt a strange satisfaction in feeding her himself that wasn’t dulled even when she realized what she’d done and drew away, wrinkling her nose.

He was enjoying himself, he realized with something like surprise. He’d never chased a woman for more than a day or so—a week at most. They all fell at his feet, some within minutes. He knew, cynically, that his attraction couldn’t all be put down to his pretty face. His power, his money drew them just as much if not more.

But not Silence.

Mick smiled to himself and sat back to select a sweetmeat. Silence disliked him, disobeyed him, argued with him, and was all but starting a rebellion amongst his people, and still he indulged her.

“I must be getting back to my rooms,” Silence said and stood.

Mick frowned with displeasure. “Why?”

“Because of Mary Darling.”

He shrugged. “One o’ the maids is watchin’ her.”

“But if Mary wakes she’ll want me.”

“Why?” he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn’t to his fancy, but sparring with her was.

“Because,” she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, “she’s only a baby and she loves me.”

“Babies,” Mick pronounced, “are a great trouble.”

She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door.

Mick sighed. “Have the rest o’ the sweetmeats brought to me rooms,” he told Tris and rose to follow her. Lad, who’d been lying beside his chair, got up as well, padding quietly behind him out into the hallway.

Silence didn’t seem surprised when he caught up with her in the hall. “You should come to see Mary more often yourself. She is your daughter after all. Perhaps then she might learn to call you something else besides Bad.”

She quickened her pace.

He shrugged, keeping up with her shorter strides easily. “Happens I’ve other things to do, and as I say, babies are a bother.”

“Humph. You say that as if you’ve made a great discovery.”

He didn’t answer, just to irritate her, and she quickened her step again. They were nearly running through the halls now.

“Whyever did you bother acknowledging her in the first place, then?” she asked. “Surely it would’ve been easy simply to turn her away. Unscrupulous men do it all the time.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him as if she’d scored a hit with that “unscrupulous,” but he’d been called worse in his time.