Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

He handed the paper back, ignoring the thumping of his heart. When he returned to Meredith he would ask her about the similarity. Maybe she had a double. “I’ve never met Miss Randall before.”

Leopold’s nostrils flared and he held out the paper again. “That wasn’t the right answer to my question. I asked if you have seen her face somewhere. Recently.”

Constantine took the paper again. There was a definite similarity, but he couldn’t believe Meredith was related to the Randalls. A woman in her position should have been overjoyed to acknowledge a connection to the Duchess of Romsey. Unless she was too afraid to come home to her family after the life she’d led. “Tell me about her?”

“We lost track of Rosemary ten years ago now. She’d been traveling with our parents and my brother, Tobias, when the carriage overturned. My brother tells me that our mother was injured in the crash and trapped in the wreckage. Tobias and Rosemary ran back to the nearest village to get help. When they returned, our parents’ carriage was surrounded. Our parents were murdered where they lay trapped in the carriage, Tobias and Rosemary captured. Tobias was taken to the docks and thrown aboard a ship. Rosemary was carried away, slung over a horse. We’ve found no trace of her.”

Constantine pinched the bridge of his nose. “Describe her.”

“A hellcat. A risk taker. She has a temper. Despite all our efforts, she either cannot or will not come home.”

He stared at the drawing again. The woman who had graced his life with her vibrant energy for the past months, torturing him with pleasure beyond his wildest dreams, could not be this man’s sister. “It makes no sense.”

“It does when the Duke of Romsey, and possibly his son, were responsible for the deaths of our parents. They arranged the murder and our separation to keep us in their control, but Tobias unfortunately was too young to remember where he and Rosemary met with foul play and were parted.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Mercy squeezed his arm tightly. “Constantine, what is it? Have you seen her?”

Constantine held Randall’s gaze. There had to be something tangible to prove Meredith was not Rosemary Randall. “Does she have any distinguishing marks?”

“None that I’m aware of. However, I’m her brother and have never seen her without the modesty of clothe

s.” He pursed his lips a moment. “Aside from a temper and a love of mean-spirited dogs, Rosemary was much like any young woman on the verge of coming out. She was rather fond of gemstones at one time. Garnets, I believe, were her favorite.”

Constantine closed his eyes. “Meredith.”

“What?”

“I fear the woman you are looking for goes by many names, but I know her currently as Meredith Clark. My governess.”

“Your lover,” Leopold Randall growled, arm hitching back.

The blow to his jaw, when it came, was well deserved.

CHAPTER 25

ROSEMARY WAS DYING. She was sure of it. As morning’s faint light spread over the sleeping village, her stomach roiled again. She clutched the blankets against her chest as a moan escaped her and she prayed not to be sick again. It would be impossible to endure a long carriage journey if she was casting up her accounts every few minutes. This time she wouldn’t have to call upon one scrap of acting ability to prove herself unequal to the challenge of getting out of bed. She’d feigned a poorly condition to make Constantine leave her behind, but now she truly was suffering. She had never felt this way before.

Mrs. Lambs voice came through the door. “Are you awake, Miss Clark?”

“Please come in,” she croaked, grateful that finally someone had come. She was so tired of being alone and miserable.

“Here you are now, dearie. Got a nice cup a tea and spot of bread to soothe your poor stomach. These things can hit us hard, but you’ll feel better soon.”

“I couldn’t…” Rosemary shook her head. “How did you know about my stomach?”

“I have ears. I’ve been listening to you retch since before the sun came up.” Mrs. Lamb placed a small tray beside the bed. “Sit up now and I’ll do my best to make you more comfortable.”

With the Mrs. Lamb’s help, she sat up and then leaned against the freshly plumped pillows. Meredith hadn’t felt so cosseted in a long time. Mrs. Lamb pressed bread into her hands. “Nibble this slowly.”

While Mrs. Lamb took care of the soiled chamber pot, Rosemary looked at the hunk and then raised it to her mouth. She tried not to think of anything as she drew in a breath of fresh air. When her stomach roiled, she made the first bite very small.

She closed her eyes and swallowed the dry lump. Tears filled her eyes. How ridiculous to be laid low on a day she should be busy. She had to get up and dressed, pack her things, and start over. It had taken all night, but she had decided Mrs. Evelyn Lynch would be her new name. A pity she had no references to give weight to her claim to be a governess, but she could always say she was a mother and had lost her children to illness. That would be somewhat true. She would always think of Constantine’s daughters as hers.

Rosemary opened her eyes to find Mrs. Lamb was watching her. “Tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”