Cora’s stared down at her exposed cleavage and bare arms. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and a deep blush stained her cheeks.
For a moment, Liam wondered if he’d gone too far.
But then she looked up at him with a brilliant smile and laughed.
He reached over her head and flipped open the box on the mantel. The melody began to play again, filling the library with sweet music.
He stood back and bowed deeply, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Then he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Cora’s gaze flew to his bandaged foot. “But—”
“It’s fine,” Liam assured her. “I barely feel it.” It was almost true, too. In that moment, he was so enchanted with the lovely woman in front of him, nothing could’ve stopped him from dancing.
Cora curtsied and placed her hands in his.
He led her around the library, his body thrumming with exhilaration. He didn’t know much about parlor dancing, but he knew about women, and Cora was very much a woman. Her skin was so soft, and her laughter irresistible. She smelled like sweet lavender and fresh linen. When he lifted her off the floor and twirled her in a circle, he could feel her soft curves pressed against his hard chest, and it lit his blood on fire. Everything about the moment felt clandestine. Forbidden. A man like him should never be dancing with a fine lady like her. Somehow, the knowledge just stoked his excitement more. He felt as if he could fly.
When at last the music died, they both stood in the darkened room, breathing heavily and smiling at one another.
“I think,” Cora said, panting, “I’m so very glad you’re a thief.”
Liam tenderly brushed a loose curl off her face. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“I am,” she insisted. “Otherwise you’d never have climbed through my window, and I’d never have met you.” She glanced down at his large hands, still holding hers.
Slowly, with reluctance, he released her and stepped back.
Cora spun away, smoothing her skirts. “I’m engaged to be married.” Her voice was hollow and resigned.
Disappointment gripped him, but he shoved it aside. Of course a woman like her would have a suitor. Why should he care? This moment between them was stolen out of time. It would go no further, and he knew that. But the stab of melancholy he felt was just a ripple effect of something that went much deeper. Liam wanted a better life. Would he always be destined to scratch and scrape? Would he never have more? Be more? For a brief moment, when he was dancing with Cora, he’d imagined what life could be like if he was a better man. A man worthy of someone like her.
“You don’t sound happy about your engagement,” Liam finally said.
“Oh.” Cora shrugged. “Finley is a nice enough man, I suppose.”
Liam frowned. Terrible name, Finley. Most unfortunate. He’d never known anyone named Finley, but it was surely the name of a fat, pimply man with gout.
“He’s my father’s solicitor,” Cora continued.
Old, then, too. A decrepit old man with a monocle and a limp. Liam disliked him already.
“I don’t dislike him,” Cora said kindly. “It’s just that he’s so very quiet. He never even talks to me. Whenever we’re in a room together, he just sits and stares at me.”
A lecher, too. It just wasn’t right. “I’m sorry,” Liam managed.
“I just don’t think he and I have anything in common,” Cora said in frustration, pacing the room. “I want to go places and do things. I don’t want to sit beside the fire and embroider cushions for the rest of my life.”
Liam wanted to run and sweep her up and dance her around the room again, if only to see her smile.
“You lead an exciting life,” Cora said, face shining with admiration. “I imagine you’ve gone on many wild adventures. Just the idea of it is so romantic. Do you steal from the rich to feed the poor, like Robin Hood?”
Liam’s gaze slid away, and he ran a hand through his hair. His memory flashed to that morning when he’d tossed a bag of coins on the table at home. His brother’s wife picked it up, glancing at her hungry children. His brother hadn’t been able to look him in the eye, because they all knew the money was stolen.
“Sure,” he said lightly. “I steal from the rich and give to the poor.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Well, I think it’s wonderful you do that,” Cora said with feeling. “I wish I could help people and be brave and daring like you.” She studied him thoughtfully for a moment. “Come with me. There’s something I want to give you.” She lifted the candle again and led him out of the library.
Liam followed her to a smaller room down the hall. The faint scent of cigars and brandy lingered in the air.
“This is my father’s study,” Cora told him, walking to the tall bookcases built into the wall. She held the candle up, searching the shelves.
Was she going to give him a book? Liam didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t do much reading. During the day he was either helping his brother in the fields or roaming the countryside with Boyd and the Bricks. And at night, he didn’t have the luxury of burning candles just for reading.
Cora’s delicate hand settled on a large leather book. She pulled it forward and Liam heard a click inside the wall. The bookcase opened out to reveal a hidden compartment behind it.
A rush of excitement rippled over Liam’s skin, his senses suddenly on high alert. This was the kind of thing he and his gang lived for. Yet, as Cora drew out a large jewel box, he felt a strange mixture of elation and...shame. For the second time that night, he wished he were a better man.
Cora set the box on her father’s desk and opened it. Large, chunky pieces of jewelry sparkled in the candlelight. They were not delicate pieces, as Liam would’ve imagined. Thick gold chains with red and green and blue stones. An ornate brooch. Several gaudy rings. Cora placed the necklaces into Liam’s hand. “I want you to have these. For the poor people.” Her expression was so earnest, so full of kindness, it made Liam’s chest tighten.
He lifted the necklaces up to the candlelight. The settings were rough; the stones oddly placed. He quickly assessed the rest of the jewelry, then glanced at Cora’s sweet, shining face.
“Go on, then,” she said. “Take them. I can’t imagine a better person who should have them.”
Liam thanked her and slid the necklaces into his pocket.
She led him to a side door that opened into the garden. “You’re safe to leave this way. No windows overlook this part of the garden.”
He stepped over the threshold into the yard, his feet squelching in the muddy grass. Turning to face her, Liam felt as if he were leaving all the happiness and hope behind with her, where it belonged. Now he was an outsider again. Only a few feet separated them, but it might as well have been a thousand miles.