Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

“I may be incapable of letting you go.” He kissed her again. “Have been since the day we met.”

He rolled onto his back, taking Meredith with him so she was on top. She shifted position till she was comfortable and then smiled down gleefully. “Now you cannot say no to me.”

“Believe me sweetheart, I’ve no intention of ever doing that.”

CHAPTER 20

CHRISTMAS DAY LEFT no time for contemplation of the events of last night. Meredith might have been a fool to lapse back into old habits, but being alone with Constantine had proved too great a temptation. The things that man could do with his mouth and his hands were beyond description. She’d succumbed to his warmth without a second thought. Only now was she wondering how great a mistake she’d made.

The other things he wanted from her were not so easy to give or agree to. She coveted nothing and offered nothing but her passion. Wouldn’t that be enough? Couldn’t that endless well of desire satisfy his hungers if she could meet with him from time to time? But Constantine wanted more. A great deal more than she could give. He was clear that he wanted her in his bed every night, but that would lead to problems. The other servants were already suspicious. Her time here was limited.

Meredith circled the room restlessly. Not bored, but not knowing where to stand. The children were playing with their new dolls and did not require her attention for the moment. She was free to drink punch and eat minced tarts and mingle with the other servants. Yet the other servants had grown distant in the weeks since she had injured her head while playing with Willow. Conversations had come to an abrupt halt when she entered the servants’ hall more times than she could count. On most days, the excuse of the children needing her provided the perfect alibi to stay away from everyone. Only Mrs. Smith, Nurse, and Cunningham seemed inclined to draw her out for conversation. If they discovered she’d spent half the night in Constantine’s bedchamber, she would be further ostracized and left out.

The housekeeper smiled invitingly when their eyes met and Meredith forced herself to join them. Mrs. Smith leaned close to whisper, “So, how long do you think before he goes for the marriage mart?”

Meredith blinked. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Smith looked about them. “His Lordship’s cleared out his lady’s old bedchamber yesterday. I expect he’ll go up to London for the coming season for a wife.”

Meredith forced her hands not to clench. “Is that so? I never heard mention of it till now.”

“Hmm, not surprising being as you are so diligent with your duties to the wee poppets. Just yesterday His Lordship sent for Cunningham and myself and requested we store his late wife’s possessions away till the girls have grown old enough to choose their favorites. I hope His Lordship picks someone worthy of him. He’s much too handsome to be alone so young.”

Meredith’s pulse raced. She studied Constantine. He’d never said a word about making such a drastic change to his life. Or had he tried last night and Meredith had misunderstood his intent? She’d thought his mention of bringing a wife home to Stanton Harold Hall was to tease her into revealing how much she wouldn’t like that. Why resume their affair if he planned to take a wife soon? Although her mouth tasted of ashes, she forced herself to speak. “I imagine he would choose wisely.”

“Oh, the debate that went into his choice of his first wife, you would not believe. I remember his mama worrying that he’d never choose a woman on his own. With her gone, he’ll have to make the decisions himself, or maybe Lady Farnsworth would steer him in the right direction. I wonder if he’ll marry for love this time instead of for duty? He told us yesterday he needs a son, but he married for duty last time and didn’t get one.”

A lump formed in her throat. His reliance on the condom to avoid getting her with child sprang to mind. Of course he wouldn’t want a bastard to spoil his plans for the future. He must have been relieved that she could take care of any indiscretion herself. “I thought,” she swallowed. “I thought His Lordship loved his wife.”

Mrs. Smith patted her hand. “Oh, he did love her, but as is often the case, not at first. Arranged marriages are rarely a love match, but I’m sentimental. I like the idea of two people meeting and marrying despite their connections and fortune. As long as their heart is in the right place, I’d not care one whit for their background. It’s not that he needs the funds a dowry would bring. All he needs is someone young enough to bear him a son, and maybe a spare into the bargain.” Mrs. Smith bit into her minced tart and moaned. “Cook really has outdone herself this year.”

Meredith’s stomach tumbled over and over. She and Mrs. Smith held the same idea of the reasons to marry, except Meredith had never imagined those reasons ever applied to herself. The most she had considered was the idea of being Constantine’s mistress. “That she has. Would you excuse me?” Meredith thought she might be sick.

If Constantine intended to marry, then why hadn’t he said so? If she’d known, she’d never have spent last night in his arms because now she had lapsed once she feared she’d never be able to stop. Could she bear to look on as his properly connected wife brought his heir and a spare into the world? She’d have to leave. She couldn’t face that prospect. Yet it would break her heart to leave him and his daughters.

The time spent in Constantine’s arms had filled a void, and throughout the day she’d been anticipating his being inappropriate with her person many times. Except he hadn’t come close again. He’d been near but kept a respectable distance. There were servants about in almost every room. She’d not caught a moment alone with h

im since she’d left his bed. Had he only wanted her closer at night when he could touch her intimately? Had he only wanted someone to fill the void until he could survey the latest crop of debutantes this season?

But that wasn’t good enough for Meredith anymore. She wanted more of his touch to go along with his laughter. She wanted what they had during the day as well as the contentment of last night. She was tired of being second best. She wanted…

Willow tugged her sleeve. “Are they going to play?”

Several servants had converged in one corner, their hands holding instruments, including fiddles and lutes. Despite the rare treat, Meredith’s mood did not improve. She would not leave Willow, Maisy, and Poppy to be neglected by Grayling’s next wife when a son came along. “It appears so.”

Willow clapped her hands together and then tugged Meredith until they had a clear view of the musicians. When they sat on a lounge placed close to the fire, Maisy rushed over to climb into her lap. Meredith cuddled the girl fiercely. She would never allow anyone to neglect them again. They were too important to her to see them hurt.

Across the room, Poppy noticed her sisters had gone and began to cry. Before Meredith could fetch her, Constantine scooped his weeping daughter into his arms and they took up the remaining two places on the lounge. Meredith glanced sideways and he grinned at her. Blasted man. How dare he look so happy when he planned to get married?

His grin faded. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything.” The rate he was going, grinning at her like that, the servants would guess there was so much more between them. Once the new wife came and the gossips shared their suspicions, she’d be sent away from the girls.

She kept her eyes steadily forward on the players and fought her temper back into submission. She almost had it under control until Poppy stood on the lounge and latched on to her hair with her little fists. She winced and jerked back. “Don’t do that.”

Constantine shuffled closer and carefully loosened Poppy’s grip. “I swear she only hurts the ones she loves.” He sat the child on his lap and clapped Poppy’s hands in time with the music when it began. “You wouldn’t happen to play the pianoforte, would you?” he asked, leaning against her shoulder.

Meredith stiffened her spine. She had dispensed with most of the arts necessary for a lady of good breeding. “Not for a long time. I’m sure I’m out of practice.”