Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

He nodded slowly, remembering his joy at learning Augusta was with child again and then the crushing agony as he discovered her last breath had left her lips, her body bloody and limp across her bed. He clenched his jaw to hold back the grief that always came when he remembered. He did not want to burden Calista with such a scene. “I am responsible for her death.”

She was silent for a long time. When he eventually looked at her, there was sadness in her eyes. “You still mourn her?”

He nodded and her hand rose toward him, then fell without connecting. He frowned at her continued distance.

Her head tipped to the side slightly. “How exactly did your wife die?”

“She died after my daughter was born.”

“In childbirth?”

He nodded again, and instead of the sympathy he expected, Calista scowled at him. She strode to the door, spoke a few urgent words to the footman who had remained close to the door, and gestured toward the stairs. Eventually the footman nodded and hurried away.

Calista slammed the door shut. “For heaven’s sake, never say you killed your wife again.”

“Why not? If not for my need for an heir she would still be alive.”

Calista crawled onto his lap. “T’is difficult to forget the ones you’ve loved and lost. There is no shame in mourning them.”

Relieved to have her so close to him again, Constantine wrapped his arms about her waist. “You sound like Lady Farnsworth.”

“A woman of sense.” Calista pointed to the doorway. “Do you even realize why William was standing guard at the door?”

Constantine frowned at the door and then several things fell into place. Her distance, the wariness he’d sensed from his arrival. “I told you I killed my wife.”

“And you made me doubt the wisdom of being alone with you.” She shook him. “You wretched man. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Calista pulled his head to hers and clung to him. Constantine gathered her into his arms and inhaled the tiny woman’s distinctive scent. He’d never harm her. He’d taken every precaution he could to protect Calista from the same fate his wife had suffered. Although it wasn’t proven, his good friend Rothwell claimed a condom could prevent the beginning of a new life in a woman’s body. Since Rothwell had considerable experience in the area, and no offspring to date, Constantine had taken his advice and purchased one for himself.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he murmured against her ear.

“Fool. Women die in childbirth all the time. Her death can hardly be your fault.”

It had been two years and the loss cut as deeply as the first day. “But it is.”

Calista drew back and searched his face. “Did you beat her? Refuse her any comfort she needed? Deny her a midwife or physician’s care? Let her wonder if you were thinking of her?”

He shook his head. “No. I did everything I could.”

“Do you hear yourself, Gray? You did everything you could and it was not your fault.”

He struggled with her denial of his guilt. He should have been able to do something to prevent her death. He’d never meant to risk her life. He bowed his head onto Calista’s slender shoulder and held her tightly. Was she correct? Had he truly done all that he could?

“Men like to think they have the power to do anything they wish, but fighting against death is beyond even you. You must forgive yourself. Surely your wife wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”

Constantine squeezed his eyes closed. Damn it all, he was on the verge of tears. He would not weep before Calista. How did she do this to him? Continue to turn his world upside down and side to side just with a few words from her clever mouth? The woman who had disrupted his life from the moment she’d walked into view. He couldn’t give her up so easily. If she wouldn’t be his mistress, perhaps there was another position he could offer her, a role that would not require her to be in his bed unless she wished to be there.

He caught her hand in his. “What if I offered you a different sort of employment? Could you be happy without earning your living on your back?”

Calista drew back, confusion filling her eyes “What are you suggesting? There is nothing else appropriate for me, my lord.”

“I have three daughters.” Constantine drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They are in need of a governess.” A governess was always held in the highest regard.

Calista turned away, a laugh on her lips. “Of all the absurd things to suggest I might be suited for. I am a whore, my lord. There is no way to smooth away that blemish or make my past disappear. How could you even consider it?”

“From the moment we met, I’ve had the feeling that each meeting might be our last. I don’t want to lose you, Calista. Not yet. Please.”

Her mouth opened to protest, but a knock silenced her. She crawled off his lap and took care of setting out food. When she turned, h