Page 52 of Cruel Shame

I nodded, my pulse fluttering in my throat. My mind raced ahead, trying to work out how he could steal a person’s DNA without hypodermic needles, a bunch of vials and subjects dumb enough to allow a schoolboy to extract their blood. It seemed like an impossible heist.

He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You said you were going to prove that Mr. Burgh was only your grandfather, so I thought why not see if I could manufacture a scandal to take their minds of persecuting your family?”

My brows drew together into a frown, but that still didn’t stop me from reaching around him and grabbing a handful of his hard, tight ass. “With a fake DNA test?”

“That was the original plan, but Lady Liddell arrived in time for lunch with Elizabeth, Camden, and Mackinnon Macdonald.”

My lips curved into a smile. That name sounded totally made up. “Who’s that?”

“Macdonald and Macdonald Solicitors in Glasgow has served the Liddell family since 1614.”

“Alright.” I nodded and waited for him to continue.

Maxwell released my ass, rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I played the uptight asshole, saying I didn’t want a bride who had been sullied.” He chuckled. “Everyone around the table was livid. I’ll have to apologize to Ken for making him sound like such a prick.”

I bit down on my lip, cringing for the quieter twin. “Did Elizabeth tell the truth?”

“She backtracked, saying it was just a few kisses and a hand up her skirt.”

My heart sank. I’d hoped she would admit to lying about Mr. Burgh to save face. Apparently, it was alright to admit to exaggerating fictional events.

“My dad went mental.” Maxwell shook his head as though reliving the experience. “He just had to pay a huge out-of-court settlement in one of his dairies for a manager’s sexual harassment. That sort of bullshit sends him in a rage.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

“Everyone went silent, even Camden bloody Liddell.” Maxwell snorted. “It turns out that he’s not such an alpha male when he doesn’t have a squad of men at his back. Then Elizabeth cracked and blamed Lady Liddell for everything from handing Myra the gun to making her spout all that bullshit about Mr. Burgh on TV.”

My heart flip-flopped, and my breath came in excited, shallow pants. I was no stranger to gossip, but hearing this was like getting three matching numbers on the scratch cards. “No!”

“It gets better.” He turned onto his side and met my gaze. “My mother sent us both out of the room for a long walk. I had to stay silent and let her rant because she knows Kendrick really well.”

I placed a hand on his chest. “She said something incriminating?”

The smile in his eyes dimmed. “She resented her mother for tricking Myra into nearly killing you with a real gun.”

Now it was my turn to stare at the ceiling. I’d hated Myra Highmore since she poured gazpacho soup down my back and made that racist slur against Gideon, but she was only a stupid cow who needed a hard punch in the face. She deserved what she got for helping Elizabeth push cocaine to little kids, but that whole business with the gun was horrendous.

Not that I would beg the police to drop the charges of attempted murder. I could have died on Saturday or ended up maimed for life. It was just so shitty of Lady Liddell to strike out against Myra and me to preserve her daughter’s reputation and fortune.

Maxwell placed a hand on my belly. “When Mother called us into the drawing room, everybody wanted to know if I would consent to the engagement, and I said no.”

“I’ll bet they didn’t like that.”

He raised a shoulder. “It’s what Ken would have wanted. No title is worth being saddled with a lunatic.”

“Not to mention that she doesn’t even like men,” I muttered.

He snorted. “Camden cornered me later, saying the Nevis family was interested in Elizabeth’s hand, as were a few prominent families around Scotland. I wished them good luck.”

I stared at Maxwell out of the corner of my eye. “That still doesn’t explain the stolen DNA?”

His face broke out into a grin. He shuffled onto his back and arranged us so I lay on my side, tucked under his arm. “Mother let the Liddells stay overnight so I could sleep on my decision and give them an answer. So, at breakfast, I snuck into the guest rooms and took each person’s toothbrush.”

“Is that enough?” I splayed my palm in the center of his chest.

He hummed and nodded. “According to the website I read, you can take DNA from cigarettes, chewing gum, cutlery, and even used tissues. But it’s illegal and carries a three-year sentence.”

I shook my head. “If we use them, the Liddells—”