Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Her lips pressed together, her gaze narrowed. “So the journey will take two days?”

“At least,” he confessed. “But it depends on the roads, the weather, and the tempers of three little misses and one fetching governess. I hope there will be few long faces during the miles ahead.”

Her face grew pinched. “You’re asking for trouble, you know.”

He shuffled a little closer. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Her glance skittered toward his daughters and she sighed. “What did Cunningham want with you this morning?”

“A misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about.”

She glanced down at her hands. “Mrs. Smith was rather cool with me this morning, too.”

He caught her hands in his. “Meredith, will you trust that I know what I’m doing? Cunningham will come around. So, what shall we talk about today?”

“I’m not telling you my name.”

“How about we exchange information about our childhoods? For instance, I got my first hound when I was three. Lovely rascal, followed me everywhere. My mother hated him jumping onto her lap and licking her face.”

“I’m not surprised. Did you not know how to train the beast?”

“I learned, but that is a story for another day. Your turn now. Did you have a pet when you were young?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

She looked at him and fluttered her lashes. “He used to growl horribly at people who annoyed me.”

Constantine laughed. “Well, I am grateful you no longer have the beast at your side as I plan to annoy you for some time to come.”

“I’m not.” Meredith turned to the window and leaned her head against the squabs. “I could have used his teeth a time or two in the early years. He never failed to protect me.”

Constantine squeezed her hand tightly. It was on the tip of his tongue to press for more information, yet the beginning of a journey was no time to demand answers. He wanted nothing to spoil her mood. They had hours left in the carriage. Many more in a charmingly warm little inn he’d discovered on similar journeys. When Meredith faced his sisters, he wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted her to like them. After all, if she refused him the gift of her name and connections, his might be the only family she would have when they married.

~ * ~

Meredith let out a relieved breath as the carriage clattered into a small inn yard at an unmarked village. The trip so far had been slow and thankfully without incident, but despite their best efforts, the children had not always enjoyed themselves. She soothed the sleeping child in her arms as Maisy and Willow clambered out after Constantine. She forced herself to remember her lessons. Be calm. Be a lady. Yet if not for the sleeping child, Meredith feared she would lose her temper and shout at Constantine for keeping their final destination a secret. Her nerves were at their limit. Constantine would like seeing that.

His sunny smile when he poked his head through the doorway only increased her irritation. “The inn has wonderfully comfortable beds.”

“You’re not sharing mine tonight,” she warned. She would remain with the children to teach him a lesson. Meredith did not care for surprises, and according to his hints, she had another day of not knowing their final destination. She did not appreciate being absconded to parts unknown. If their relationship was to continue, in any form, Constantine would have to cease planning further surprise events.

She wriggled along the bench to the door and slid Poppy into his outstretched arms. Constantine had been rather better equipped to deal with the girls on a long trip than herself, making up endless games and convincing them to nap. But then he’d likely done such journeys before and knew better how to keep his daughters entertained in confined spaces.

Meredith stepped out of the carriage after him and glared, little caring if anyone saw her do it. “Where are we now?”

“Another surprise.” He urged her toward the inn. “Come inside where it’s warm. Mrs. Lamb’s company will soothe you after such an arduous day.”

Constantine’s attempts to tease did not improve her mood. She would… Meredith stumbled. In the act of taking a step, she had glimpsed something she recognized. The once-bold red paint on the inn door struck a chord of her memory. She glanced around her, trying to discover why the place felt familiar.

She glanced at the door again, at the lion’s-head knocker placed squarely in the center, and her heartbeat slowed. Her legs trembled.

“Meredith?”

She gave her head a little shake to dismiss the coincidence and then stepped into the inn. She was imagining a resemblance to a place she’d been before. A gray-haired woman was waiting. “Welcome back, my lord. You must be tired from your journey.”

Constantine smiled over the sleeping form of his youngest. “Two rooms for the night, if you please, Mrs. Lamb. The largest and warmest chamber for my daughters and their governess. A smaller chamber will be sufficient for myself.”