Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

When the woman handed it over, there was pity in her eyes. “Like that is it? He broke your heart and left you behind.”

“I’m not heartbroken.” Rosemary quickly swallowed some of the tea and handed back the cup and saucer. The hot liquid did nothing to ease the ache and she slumped against the pillows, wishing Constantine had never revealed his connections. “I’m ill.”

How annoying to remember Constantine so clearly now that he was long gone. The way he smiled, the way he was always trying to learn something new about her that she didn’t want to reveal. How ridiculous to want to feel his hands upon her again and tell him the truth, given he was related to the Duke of Romsey.

They had no future together.

Mrs. Lamb sighed dramatically. “These lords can turn a girl’s head so easily. They promise the world and leave your belly full. I thought Lord Grayling a little different by the way he fretted for your welfare yesterday. But I see my first suspicion was correct. When is the babe due?”

Rosemary stilled as shock set in. “I’m not with child.”

“Oh, I think time will tell that you are. It may be cruel, but I could wave a raw mutton chop beneath your nose and make your stomach turn over. There is no sense pretending the worst hasn’t happened.”

Rosemary held her stomach as the mere mention of meat sent her nausea soaring.

Mrs. Lamb smiled kindly. “I can see a carriage in the distance, so I’d better return below. I’ll send a tray up for you to consider if you’re well enough to eat any of it in my absence and check on you again when they’re gone, my dear. When I come back, we can talk about what you must do. For all his kind words yesterday, I doubt Grayling will be sympathetic. Forgive me for saying this, but he won’t be marrying someone not of his level.”

Rosemary pulled the covers up to her nose as a shudder filled her. “Never expected him to.”

A babe changed nothing. She knew what to do to remedy herself of that condition. With no home, no future, she had only one choice. Constantine would never know.

He’d only wanted her for pleasure. She and Constantine were remarkably alike in that. When they’d met, neither had wanted more. Yet the longer they’d stayed together, the greater that pleasure had become. Even his children had been no barrier to her contentment. A contentment that ended when she learned his connections.

It was a shame she’d never see him again. He’d become the closest thing to a friend she’d had in a decade. She could think on that when this inn was a distant memory.

Rosemary climbed from bed and slipped into a day gown. She might not feel herself completely, but she had to be ready to get on that mail coach. The buttons on her gown proved a little difficult since she had to keep stopping when assailed by nausea.

When she was decently covered, she sat to fasten her half boots. As she lifted her head, the sounds of a carriage drawing up outside filled the room. Fearing it was the mail coach come early, Rosemary hurried to the window. The crest on the door blazed with the carriage owner’s identity.

Romsey.

Rosemary picked up her skirts and ran.

~ * ~

“Are you sure this is the right place,” Leopold demanded of Constantine as the carriage rolled to a stop in the sleepy little village he’d stayed in the night before. Being questioned so often, and in such a condescending manner, during the long hours of the night had removed any lingering guilt he felt over making love to the man’s sister before they married.

Leopold Randall had no reason to scold him anyway after what he’d discovered about the young Duke of Romsey’s conception. Only a fool would claim the higher ground. They had each lain with the other’s sister before they ever intended to marry them.

Although Constantine would like nothing better than to scowl, he thought better of it. His jaw hurt like the very devil from the blow he’d received from his brother-in-law’s fist every time he clenched it. “I always break my journey to Romsey here,” he said carefully. “Another few minutes and you’ll see her for yourself.”

He cupped his jaw as pain spiked. Even talking a small amount hurt, and he was rather annoyed that no one else seemed the least bit concerned for his well-being. He could have lost a tooth. Maybe Rosemary would tenderly soothe him into a better frame of mind.

Spending the night in close quarters with three Randall men had not been the most comfortable night of his life. Although he hadn’t argued, he had not been given much of a voice on the decision to return to the inn. He’d been spared a few precious minutes to tell Willow he was on his way to fetch her favorite governess and that had been all the concession he’d been given.

Yet for all the Randalls’ silent scrutiny, he was rather glad they kept their questioning to a minimum, because he didn’t think it fair to be accused of wrongdoing when Calista, Meredith, or rather Rosemary, had never had an honest conversation with him since they met. How was he to have deduced that the willful, wicked woman he’d made love to was a woman with an excellent pedigree, outstanding connections, and more suited to a ballroom than a brothel?

He’d never had her real name, although he had known that from t

he very beginning.

It took a brave woman to lie so boldly as she gave her body to yet another man. At least under the guise of being his governess, her family might be spared the knowledge of the rest of her past.

When the carriage steps were finally dropped, Randall was first out the door. Constantine followed, stepping out onto the familiar street. “This way,” he called and then smiled at the inn’s proprietor as he approached. “I’ve returned for my governess, Mr. Lamb.”

“So I see.” Mr. Lamb ducked back inside the inn, calling for his wife.

The brothers departed the coach and the younger one paled.