Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(66)

She recoiled. Well, and why wouldn’t she? It was a horrific act, the action of an animal. Naturally she’d be appalled.

“Why?”

He felt his own eyebrows arch in faint surprise. To question why an animal would act in an animalistic manner seemed absurd, but he humored her anyway.

“Because I wanted to kill him and the vitriol was at hand.”

She stared at him and blinked it seemed with an effort. “I’m very tired,” she said carefully, “but I know there must be more to the story than that…” She trailed off and shook her head as if too weary to go on. “I can’t ask the right questions tonight, but tell me this: Why should your attack so long ago lead to Fionnula’s death tonight?”

“Because,” he said, “the man I scarred with vitriol was Charlie Grady, the Vicar o’ Whitechapel.”

SILENCE STARED UP at Michael O’Connor, pirate, thief, admitted murderer. He’d confessed to a ghastly crime, one that led naturally to deserved retribution.

And yet…

And yet she refused to believe the worst of him—even if he believed it of himself. She knew him better now. All she saw at this moment, late at night in a dark room, was the sorrow in his eyes.

“Oh, Michael,” she said, and laid her palm against his cheek.

His black eyes flared wide in surprise and she almost laughed. Was compassion such a strange thing to him? Impulsively she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

The heat of his mouth was a shock. She held the baby between their bodies and she’d meant only a quick, careless kiss, but somehow nothing was careless with this man.

He opened his mouth and took control of the kiss, bending over her, surrounding her and Mary in a circle of protection. He tasted of the wine they’d drunk at the opera—so long ago it seemed now—and the memory made her want to weep.

She broke away, intending to lay Mary down, to seek his arms with nothing between them, to find out what it was like to kiss him as a woman kisses a man.

But an arm wrapped around Michael’s throat and yanked him backward.

Silence opened her mouth to scream and a hand was clamped over her face.

“Hush,” Winter whispered close to her ear. “Don’t be frightened. We’re here to take you away from him.”

She stood still, her eyes wide over her brother’s hand. No! They couldn’t separate her from Michael now. She watched as Asa took the long knife from Michael’s sleeve. Michael stood unnaturally calm.

He met her panicked gaze. “Don’t let it worry ye, love. They’ll not hurt me.”

Beside her, Winter made the strangest sound—almost a growl.

Behind them, an aristocratic voice drawled from the bedroom door, “Oh, don’t be too confident of that, O’Connor. Not if you’ve harmed my sister-in-law.”

She turned her head within Winter’s grasp and saw Temperance’s new husband, Lord Caire. He was an intimidating man even under the best of circumstances—Lord Caire’s hair was stark white, long and clubbed back, and he nearly always wore black in dramatic contrast. Tonight, though, his face was as grim as Silence had ever seen it, and her chest tightened in sudden fear.

She pulled Winter’s hand, unresisting, from her lips. “Please. Don’t harm him. He hasn’t offered me any disservice.”

“Oh, no?” Asa asked darkly. “Then what do you call the embrace we witnessed when we entered?”

Beside him, Concord scowled at Michael.

Silence could feel her face warming, but she tilted her chin up. “None of your business.”

“Silence—” Concord began in a heated tone.

Lord Caire coughed into his hand, interrupting him. “But you see my dear, it is, actually, our business—your well-being, both physically and spiritually. We’ve come to take you and Mary Darling away.”

Only a few days ago she would’ve welcomed their interference. Now things were entirely different. She was different. She simply couldn’t betray Michael. He’d been attacked and his palace invaded. He needed her.

Michael saw the torment on her face. “Go with them, love. ’Tis for the best. Me palace isn’t safe anymore. I cannot protect ye by m’self.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. He was backing down, conceding the field—for her. What must it have cost his pride to admit that he couldn’t protect her in his own house? Tears suddenly pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely. She wanted to keep his face in her sight as long as she could.

Lord Caire turned and gave Michael a considering look. Michael met his eyes and some male communication seemed to pass between them.

Her brother-in-law nodded. “Thank you, O’Connor.”

Michael returned the nod, but oddly it was Winter he spoke to. “Ye’ll need to guard her and the babe night and day. The Vicar o’ Whitechapel is me enemy and he’ll think either o’ them a fine prize.”

Silence looked up at Winter. It was obvious that he had no love for Michael, but he gave one jerky nod. “Understood.”

Michael was suddenly in front of her, having apparently moved so swiftly he’d taken Asa unawares. He took her face in his palms. “Remember me.” And then his mouth was on hers, hard and hot and open, his tongue thrusting into her mouth despite her brothers’ presence.