Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

She walked away quickly and regained her possessions.

After a moment’s consideration, Constantine trailed after and when he joined her, he smiled down on her unguardedly one last time. “Cunningham will show you up to the nursery and acquaint you with the house and its schedule. I’d like to see you at the end of each day, after the children are asleep, for a report of your progress with them. We can discuss your wage and employment terms and other matters then.”

He would find out what she’d spoken to Arabella about whether she liked it or not. Eventually, he’d have all her secrets.

She dipped a curtsy. “As you wish, my lord.”

When she rose, her remarkable whiskey-brown gaze was fixed somewhat lower than his, most likely on the red-stoned pin holding his cravat in place. He grinned. He’d picked ruby especially to mark the beginning of her employment and his sad return to celibacy.

Constantine wrenched the door opened and glanced out. Cunningham, the wily devil, was exactly where Constantine expected him to be—three feet away and wearing an expression of complete innocence. He’d likely heard and seen everything until the keyhole had been covered and they’d begun to whisper.

Grayling struck out his hand to Miss Clark. “Welcome to Stanton Harold Hall. I hope you’ll be with us for many years to come.”

The hand in his was tiny, but he remembered all too well the strength of her grip about his privates. A flame of heat swept his body, and he retreated to his study quickly before he did something stupid like kiss her. He already missed her taste.

CHAPTER 13

HEAVENS ABOVE, THAT man could make her head spin. Meredith forced her feet to move her away from the study as she struggled to suppress the confusion she experienced at being so near Grayling but not permitted to touch. Of course, she’d failed to keep her hands to herself for even five minutes.

When they’d first met, Meredith hadn’t imagined he was nursing such a wounded heart. Their attraction had been immediate, his interest obvious. But the mere mention of the late Lady Grayling was enough to bring his melancholy to life again. She hadn’t been able to maintain a distance.

Behaving properly when alone with him was going to be a struggle. A governess was thought of rather poorly if she flirted with her employer. Grayling had hinted her good standing was important to her position. She would have to find other ways to help him set aside his regrets for his wife.

She glanced around the hallway, wondering at the faces staring from the frames. Was one of them the late Lady Grayling, who had left such loneliness in her wake? Meredith was keen to find her portrait and learn more about her.

“Don’t think the children will be as easy to win over as His Lordship,” Cunningham grumbled before they had gone many steps away from Grayling’s study. “They are not concerned in the least about their governess’s pretty looks, unlike their father.”

Meredith regarded the butler’s frosty visage. She was used to people expecting the worst of her. A whore had no status to speak of. But to act so rudely to a stranger from second meeting without knowing anything of her past showed an overpowering lack of manners. She shrugged away her irritation. She had come for Grayling’s daughters and nothing else. What the butler thought of her was inconsequential. “I have no notion of what you refer to, Mr. Cunningham, but rest assured my sole concern is for the young girls I’ve been asked to care for.”

Cunningham stopped in the middle of the hall. “They’ve done all right without your sort.”

“My sort?” Really, this was too rude to ignore. She didn’t have a brand burned into her skin to say she’d been a whore. Given the time she’d spent perfecting this prim identity, Cunningham shouldn’t see anything untoward. “What exactly is my sort?”

He looked her up and down. “A class above the rest of us. A meddler like Lady Farnsworth. You’re only pretending to be a governess until you can snare His Lordship.”

Meredith almost choked on her surprise. A woman with her past was far beneath a butler in status. Clearly her disguise and acting talents were even better than she dreamed. She stepped around Cunningham and hitched her skirts to start up the stairs. “I would be careful how you speak of Lady Farnsworth. Your employer might not like his friends slighted in such a manner. She was his late wife’s good friend, too, wasn’t she? Now, if you’re finished gossiping, would you be so kind as to show me the way to the nursery? I would like to begin.”

Cunningham scowled but grudgingly hurried to lead the way up the stairs. He directed her all the way to a stout oak door without another word, but as he set his hand to the handle, he looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be watching you closely. Any sign of mischief and I’ll see you dismissed.”

Meredith smiled brightly. “The only mischief I see is a butler standing between me and my charges.”

Cunningham tapped on the wood and then opened the door slowly. Meredith peered into the gloom and spotted shapes huddled around the fire on the far sid

e of the room. She took a pace in and then Cunningham slammed the door behind her back. She cursed him, out loud too, as she struggled to acquaint herself with the room. And then cursed herself under her breath for forgetting to behave properly around the children. She was no longer in a bawdy house where such language could be used without raising a fuss.

First impressions were important. That moment could never be recovered.

She waited while her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see the occupants of the room better. An old woman sat in a far corner with a young nursery maid, darning by the insufficient candlelight at her elbow. Across the space, three sad little faces watched her. The eldest held the infant close to her chest.

Meredith’s temper rose that the children were smothered in darkness. It was little wonder they were not happy. This had to stop. Hoping there was nothing blocking her path in the shadows, Meredith walked across the room. The little girls drew closer to each other, their ease of yesterday long gone.

Meredith paused to look about and give them time to grow used to her presence. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a firecracker right now so that I might see how pretty you all are. How do you do? My name is Miss Clark. Do you remember me from yesterday? Lady Farnsworth sent me to be your new governess.”

The little girls stared and clutched their cloth dolls, saying nothing. Meredith turned to the older woman and held out her hand. “Hello. I’m Meredith Clark, and you are?”

The old woman didn’t move a muscle. “Ridgeway,” she mumbled slowly in a voice so thick Meredith almost couldn’t understand her. “I’m the nurse. Been with our lady since she was small. This is Miss Cunningham, the butler’s niece.”

“How wonderful.” Meredith withheld a groan. A servant with ties to the past lady of the house and a relation of the butler. They’d likely be against her, and the girl was sure to tell the butler everything she did in the day. “A pleasure to meet you both.”