Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Meredith carried it across the room and then sat on the rug before the fire. She relished the heat permeating her gown before she upended her treasure and began to play. It took only a minute for the children to slide onto the floor and investigate what she was doing. She made a tall stack with the colored blocks and held her breath as Poppy reached for them.

When they crashed to

the floor, she laughed and restacked the pile. As she did, she caught the swift exchange of glances between Willow and Maisy before they inched closer. Had they expected Meredith to scold a baby? Meredith gritted her teeth and considered how willing Grayling might be to providing her with a list of his former governesses. They deserved to be hunted down and expelled from their current positions.

When Poppy again destroyed her tower, the other two joined in and made their own. Meredith eased back a bit to give them room to play. Poppy chortled and stood. The next tower was felled by a wild swing of her foot. Meredith reached for her. “Be careful of your sisters, Poppy, love. Don’t hurt them.”

Meredith released the child and she squatted down to better view her sister’s work. This time, she used her hand and both Maisy and Willow complained. “We weren’t done yet, Poppy.”

Willow held Poppy back with one hand. “Wait.”

“No, not yet.”

“Now.”

Meredith smiled as the girls worked together to build a tower as tall as they could make it and then leaned back so Poppy could destroy it. Blocks scattered far and wide and the girls scurried to retrieve them to build again.

Meredith glanced at the nurse who was staring at her with openmouthed surprise.

“I think we’re going to need more blocks,” Meredith suggested.

“That and an increase in your wages,” Ridgeway said. “That was remarkable. How did you know Her Ladyship used to play on the floor with them?”

“I didn’t, but it seemed the sensible thing to do.” Meredith shrugged. “Wait till you see what else I’m capable of.”

CHAPTER 14

SILENCE COULD ONLY be good, surely. That’s what Constantine kept telling himself as the second day of the new governess’s employment progressed. So far, he had managed not to wander upstairs and see for himself how Calista, Meredith (God, he wished he knew what to call her) and his daughters were getting along. Maybe he could continue to call her Calista, but only in his innermost thoughts or when they were alone and no one could hear them. Especially in his fantasies.

No, he had to get used to the change.

Meredith Clark—another name that didn’t suit the woman. The name sparked images of a cold bookish spinster. There may be little gentle sweetness in the woman, but steel, nerve and cunning she had in spades. She was kind. He’d never thought her heartless, which was why he had no concerns about her influence over his daughters. Under her guidance they might grow to be strong young women, not one of those listless beauties waiting for a man to sweep them off her feet and propose before their first season had even begun.

He shook his head and cursed under his breath. What was he doing planning so far ahead? He knew, and Arabella had warned him, that Miss Clark might not stay in his employment for very long. She had a past that would scandalize many if the truth came out. Yet the thought of her leaving wasn’t a pleasant sensation. Not now he had her under his roof where no man would dare touch her.

By sheer force of will, Constantine had not grumbled about her missing their arranged meeting last night when Cunningham had subtly asked if she should be summoned. As the woman had reminded him yesterday, she was here for his daughters and not him. Her time wasn’t wasted if she was with his girls.

Yet he had not laid eyes on her all day and curiosity was driving him mad. He’d remained in his study, tending his correspondence in frustrated solitude. But as he’d paused for luncheon, Cunningham had relayed the particulars of what the governess was doing with the children. The butler had sounded aghast that she was seated upon the floor to play with them. Constantine was rather pleased by that news.

But Miss Clark was causing additional work for the staff with her demands, Cunningham had confided. After breakfast she had demanded tea and sweet cakes to be immediately sent up to the nursery. Warm baths had followed and she had spent an hour dressing hair. She had not even begun conducting lessons. The young maid, Cunningham’s niece, had been assisting nurse but had been excused for other duties for the rest of the day, and the man was afraid of what else Miss Clark might be doing.

A smile tugged at his lips. Amongst his set lingered the idea that ladies should have little part in the raising of their offspring. Augusta had defied them all and taken an active part in raising their daughters with little assistance from the servants. The girls must miss that. Miss Clark’s behavior, rather relaxed for a servant, would feel familiar for them.

Many things about Meredith Clark felt familiar. She was easy to be with.

He picked up the most recent copy of the Times and scanned the pages, looking for a distraction from the direction of his thoughts. He’d spent too long wallowing in the past or contemplating his former lover today. It was time to move ahead with life before he became obsessed with what he didn’t have.

An entry low down on the page caught his eye. As he read it, his eyes widened. Mr. Leopold Randall was appealing to his sister to come home, and to Romsey Abbey no less. The woman would be welcomed with open arms. Constantine gritted his teeth. The nerve of the man to behave as if the abbey was his. He might be the heir, but he was not the duke. When they finally met, he would lay down the law about Randall’s attitude regarding things that didn’t belong to him. Constantine did not support this marriage. When his children were settled and smiling, he would make the trip to Romsey and tell his sister so.

Unfortunately, the trip would most likely be after the wedding.

A nervous giggle caught his attention and he peered past the paper to the doorway. A dark head, Maisy, pretty ringlets bobbing on each side of her head, was peeking at him from the door, waiting to see if he would invite her in. He dropped the paper to the desk and crooked his finger. The little scamp rushed right to him. She was in his arms before his surprise sank in. For the first time in a very long time, his middle daughter wanted him.

He held her against him as tight as he dared. He’d missed the impulsive hugs more than he’d thought possible. When he raised his head and glanced toward the doorway, he saw Miss Clark had brought Willow too; she held Poppy in her arms. But they, too, were waiting at the doorway for an invitation to enter.

“Come in. Please, come in,” he urged. He couldn’t remember the last time a governess had brought them to him during the day. “It’s nice to see you all.”

Willow drew closer, stopping to stare at him and Maisy cuddling behind his desk. Constantine opened his arms and his eldest daughter leapt into them, burrowing against him and her sister. “Hello, Papa,” she whispered softly.