Hunting the Hero (20 page)

Miss Clark struggled valiantly to keep a straight face but failed terribly. “Forgive me, my lord, but I was not laughing at His Lordship.” She glanced at Willow as his daughter drew close against her side. “I was simply amazed at what Lady Maisy can accomplish at the tender age of four. Her coming out should prove to be remarkably memorable.”

A warm thrill filled him that Miss Clark was imagining the future too. At least he wasn’t the only one considering possibilities. “If you were to write down her antics, I doubt anyone would believe you.”

Miss Clark’s eyes glowed when she looked upon him. “We would know the truth.”
 

Constantine’s heart skipped a beat and he took a pace toward her. But then Maisy latched on to his leg, halting his plans to touch his governess. Thank God she had. Rothwell was already looking between them, suspicion clear in his eyes.
 

The smile on Miss Clark’s face dimmed and she glanced down. Was she embarrassed that he was attracted to her still?

He glanced at his children. “Thank you for bringing them.”

“Of course, my lord. Ladies, let us leave the gentlemen to their pursuits.” Miss Clark gathered up the girls and quickly departed.

“Governess, my arse,” Rothwell muttered. “At least you are no longer moping.”

Constantine poured another drink. “Don’t be simple.”

Miss Clark was exactly that. A governess. But the lover was always there behind the wire-rimmed spectacles when she looked upon him.
 

Rothwell leaned against his desk. “It’s about time you found a distraction. She’s a fine-looking woman.”

Constantine tossed back his drink and refilled it. “It’s not like that.”

“But was it ever? You’ve a proprietary eye when you look at her. Same expression you used to cast upon your wife when any scoundrel got too close.”

There wasn’t much to dispute in Rothwell’s statement, so he remained silent. It seemed the best way to avoid admitting he lusted after a servant.

Rothwell only laughed. “I’m sure you can lure the woman back into your bed. You just have to find the right incentive. Jewels usually work.”

That might be so, but Constantine wasn’t sure he wanted her there under those terms anymore. He liked to think their attraction was mutual. He’d give her jewels if they pleased her, but that wasn’t all he wanted.
 

Seeing her with his daughters, how she encouraged them to laugh, to be close sisters, and how she cared for them made one thing very clear. He wanted Miss Clark to stay for as long as she would for their sake. He didn’t want to risk driving her away just because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Meredith Clark deserved better. She deserved to be respected.

CHAPTER 17

MEREDITH GLANCED OUT the window at the fine white powder falling from the sky and gnawed at her lower lip. Very soon she would be trapped inside Stanton Harold Hall with three very energetic children and one sinfully handsome widower. The girls had blossomed in the past few weeks with the servants’ help. Mealtimes and bedtimes were full of chatter, stories, and contented smiles; the days were full of energetic games. It was a pity the activities did not meet all of Meredith’s needs, especially the ones filling her mind at night.
 

She missed Grayling. She missed being held in his arms. After his friend Rothwell’s visit, he’d become even more withdrawn. That brief moment of possessiveness he’d shown after Rothwell had inspected her from head to toe had brought back the reminders of how pleasant, exciting, his company could be. Perhaps their bargain had been a mistake. Meredith had never been celibate, either by choice or by need.

A male throat cleared nearby, and when she glanced up, she noticed the butler had come to spy on her work again. She groaned under her breath but managed to smile. “Mr. Cunningham. What a pleasure.”

“Miss Clark,” he said rather severely. He stood aside for a footman to pass him, the man’s arms full of treasures to amuse the children. “Mrs. Smith sent these down from the attic.”

Meredith was almost as excited to see what new entertainments had been found as she was by the man carrying them. “Kindly place them by the window.” Meredith followed, letting her eyes rove over the footman’s physique. Not as fine and large as Gray, but not running to fat either. As far as she was concerned, no one could be as well put together as her employer. But as far as views went, the sandy-haired footman was rather easy on the eye.

She shook herself from her daze. There was no use letting her imagination run away with itself over a pretty body. That part of her life was over. She leaned over the pile and found a ball-and-cup game to show Lady Willow. Meredith turned the ball over in her hand and let the cup dangle from the string. “I had one as a child.”

Cunningham’s voice cut through the distant memory. “That belonged to the countess when she was a girl. I should not like anything to damage it.”

“Games are for playing, Cunningham. But I am sure the ladies will cause no lasting harm.”

Cunningham’s face grew pinched and then he withdrew, leaving the footman standing beside her. “I’d play any game you wanted. Just say the word and I’d find you.”

Meredith blinked, realizing at the last second that, now Cunningham had gone, the footman was interested in her. She hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t detected any interest in her person from any servant since she’d arrived. Meredith eased back a touch and did her best to ignore his comment. Unfortunately, he followed, cutting her off from reaching Willow and Maisy where they played farther along the gallery.
 

“Let me pass,” she said firmly.

“Not yet.” His hand stretched toward her waist. Time slowed. Meredith dragged in a sharp breath and caught his hand before he made contact with her body. The fool smiled as she turned his hand so her thumb rested in his palm. When he tried to pull her into a tight embrace, she pressed her thumb hard into his hand. His nostrils flared as she increased the pressure. If he did not relent and move away, she would injure him.
 

“Release me now.” He had to be in pain from the pressure of her thumb.

Meredith smiled sweetly at him. “Yield, or I will break your hand.”

The fool had assumed that with Cunningham gone, she would not protest. She might miss intimacies with Gray, but Meredith was not a weak woman to give herself to just any man. Calista was the aberration.
 

He yanked his hand back immediately as he realized she made no idle boast and rubbed it. His glance told her he was furious. Meredith took a pace toward him. “Let me give you a piece of advice, sir. Gentlemen who force themselves on women, especially ones in service, are nothing better than rutting pigs. If you want one of your own, you’d better learn to listen, because if I ever hear of you forcing a woman against her will, I won’t speak to His Lordship about you. I’ll creep into your bedchamber one night and geld you. Do we understand each other?”

His face grew ashen. “Yes, Miss Clark.”

Meredith skirted around the oaf and took the ball and cup to Willow and showed her how to do it. While her back was turned, Cunningham swept into the room and berated the footman for lingering. Meredith turned to see the effect of the butler’s admonishments, but that was exactly when Willow made a wild swing and the ball connected soundly with Meredith’s head.
 

Dazed, she fell, crashing to the ground in a sprawled heap, her head hurting like the very devil. Her eyeglasses spun away as she clutched her head, and the sharp crack of glass breaking told her they were ruined.

Cunningham ran the length of the room and knelt at her side. “Heaven help us.”

She pressed her hand against the injury, hoping touch would ease the pain. As she did, she grew aware that Willow had begun to cry. Meredith stretched for the child, caught her hand and drew her close. “No harm done, my lady. No need for tears. I’ll be all better in a moment.”

But Willow was not calmed by her words. She wrenched free of her grip and bolted for the door. “Willow,” she called. Although she called out as loud as she could stand, the girl did not return. Maisy came closer, crouched down at her feet, watching with no idea of what had happened. Meredith was relieved she was not the least bit upset. She wasn’t up to cheering anyone just yet.

Cunningham caught her elbow and eased her to her feet carefully. “Are you truly unhurt?”

The room spun slowly and she grabbed Cunningham’s arms desperately to keep her balance. “Oh, dear. I see a bump the size of an apple in my future. Please, can you find Willow and make sure she understands she didn’t really hurt me? I don’t want her to be anxious. She’s come so far these past few weeks.”

He improved his grip about her body. “I’ll take you to her instead.”

With Cunningham’s help, Meredith struggled to the doorway and into the hall. She glanced up the stairs and winced as her head throbbed. Footsteps pounded in her direction and she was caught by stronger arms than Cunningham’s. Warmth, security. Gray. Meredith clung to him.
 

“Willow said you’d been injured,” he whispered.

She winced at the worry on his face. “It’s not serious. An accident. Where is she?”

“I didn’t mean to,” the little girl sobbed. “And I broke her glasses, too.”

Meredith reached blindly for the girl, relieved when her cold clammy hand clenched hers. “I must remember to pay more attention. I’ll be fine, really. The glasses can easily be replaced. I just need to sit for a few moments.”

“You’ll rest for the remainder of the day,” Gray corrected. He swept her up into his arms and began to move. “Cunningham, fetch the housekeeper at once. This bump will need a poultice.”

“Don’t. It’s nothing really,” Meredith protested feebly.

“Sweetheart, there is a large bump forming on your head. Mrs. Smith will know how to deal with it, I assure you.”

Meredith’s eyes grew heavy. “Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what should I call you instead? None of the names you’ve offered up suit you in the least,” he grumbled and then pressed his nose to her head. “God, you smell good.”
 

As he carried her upstairs, Grayling issued a stream of orders to every servant he encountered. Most often his command was to see what was taking the housekeeper so long. “Willow, could you open the door like a good girl? I’d like to get your governess into bed.”

Meredith’s eyes flew open and she stared up at Gray, noting his smirk was back in place. “That woke you up,” he whispered. “Don’t tell me you don’t miss being in my arms.”

Meredith closed her eyes again. “Conceited.”

“But I’m correct.”

He eased her down gently and bundled pillows behind her head. When Grayling sat at her side, her head really began to throb in earnest. His fingers brushed her face. “Stay awake. Talk to me.”

She scowled. “Terrible question to ask an injured woman. What would you like to talk about?”

A wet cloth pressed at her temple. “Cunningham appeared rather too free with your person.”

Meredith pressed the heel of her hand to her head. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Now is not the time to gripe about overfamiliarity between servants. He was there when the accident occurred and helped me to my feet. When the world wobbled, he supported me. If he’d not done so, would you still be complaining?”

“Damn right I would.” The cloth was removed and returned colder than before. “He should have called for help before making you walk the length of the Hall.”

“A dozen or so paces,” Meredith murmured. “I was worried about Willow.”

The bed dipped again and a small shape brushed her limbs. When Meredith peeked, Willow had climbed up on her bed, but her eyes were filled with tears again. Meredith opened her arms to the terrified girl and let her sob against her chest.
 

When the tears eased, Meredith rubbed her back. “It will take more than a child’s toy to hurt me seriously. Why, I once escaped bandits and lived in the woods for a whole month on morning dew and green pickles. A little ball is nothing compared to that.”

 
As hoped, Willow ceased crying and simply snuggled against her. The feeling was rather nice. Gray’s children were very cuddly creatures. They were forever sitting on her lap or sneaking into her bedchamber in the morning when they woke before her. Her narrow bed got rather crowded at times.

Gray, however, wasn’t in a similar mood. His eyes narrowed to slits, gaze growing hard as ice chips. “Is any part of that true?”

Meredith shivered. “You never know.”

“No,’ he said angrily. “I never do, and I think you enjoy keeping me in perpetual confusion.”

“You sent for me, my lord?” the housekeeper asked from the doorway.
 

Grayling quickly spun off the bed to make room. “A blow to the head.”

The housekeeper’s glance was shrewd. “Let’s have a look at her.”

The housekeeper had a light touch and soft voice. Meredith appreciated both. Now she had time to consider the matter, she felt rather foolish for being felled by a child’s toy and by Grayling’s panic. He shouldn’t behave in such a way where other servants could hear. She hoped he would not take long to get command of himself again.