Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Meredith struggled to rise. Nurse would not be able to cope with the little one on her own.

However, Gray placed his hand on her thigh and held her still. “Rest is what the housekeeper ordered for you, my dear. Miss Cunningham will do the heavy lifting for Nurse, should it be required.”

Meredith glanced toward the doorway. “So you know about your nurses difficulties?”

He gave her leg one last pat and sat back. “Of course. Why do you think I was so eager to have you here? Nurse has a lifetime of experience to offer but lacks the strength in her limbs.”

Meredith digested that. “What will you do with her?”

“Exactly what I am doing now.” He smiled. “Nurse has no family of her own. She will remain here where we can keep an eye on her.”

“You are very kind for a lord.”

“Handsome too.” He checked over his shoulder. “But I’m sure you noticed my appeal the first night we met.”

“Vain,” Meredith murmured softly, but there was no strength to her complaint. He was good to look at and rather nice to talk to. If he were an ordinary man, she might have entertained thoughts of a future that featured him. But she couldn’t. She was utterly ruined. The only future they had was an illicit one should either of them break their agreement. And her resolve on that issue was already wavering, had in fact been wavering since the first day of her employment. It was rather hard to turn away from a situation that had been so very agreeable on so many levels. This was just another challenge to face, and Meredith had to forget what had come before.

An hour later, when only Gray was still at her side and they had covered topics ranging from farming to her opinion on the perfect gemstone—type, size, and shape, including the many applications for jewelry—she scowled at him. “The servants will talk about this for months.”

He glanced over the paper, from where she believed he was gaining his many and varied topics of conversation, and winked. “I’m unconcerned about my servants’ possible disapproval. They’ve already been informed I could be found here until Mrs. Smith declared you out of danger.”

Meredith snatched the paper from his hands and peered at the page he was on. “And when do you imagine that might be?”

“Oh, at least morning. Maybe late afternoon.”

Grayling had turned to the section containing announcements of births, deaths, and marriages. She read a notice and her mouth dropped open. She shut it quickly and read the short notice again. It was not possible. Her brother had married her best friend from childhood. She swallowed and closed the paper quickly. “You’re being ridiculous. The blow was mild.”

Grayling snatched the paper back and found his place again. “To what do you compare it to? A proper beating?”

Meredith scowled again. “No one has harmed me in a very long time.”

“Once was too often,” he said, although it appeared he had clenched his jaw tightly.

She shrugged, determined to make light of a bad memory. “In the beginning, I had some lingering ambitions to make my mother proud, so I hesitated to enforce my will. Circumstances proved that such reservation was not in my best interests.”

He leaned close and stared into her eyes. “Who are you really? Where did you come from, and why won’t you tell me what happened to you?”

Poor man. He truly disliked being thwarted. “There’s nothing you need to know. I am the woman you met. Nothing has changed.”

He wagged his finger at her as footsteps sounded in the room beyond, coming closer. “I will convince you to trust me one day. I insist.”

“Now you sound like lord of the manor. All who depend on you must obey or else suffer for disobedience.”

When Gray’s face darkened and he stood, Meredith knew she’d gone too far. He was angry. He’d never behaved callously to anyone she’d met.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said before storming out. He barked at Cunningham to sit with her and then there was only silence. Meredith closed her eyes as the pain in her head returned threefold. Of all the stupid things to do. Now she had to sit and listen to Miss Cunningham’s opinions on ruffles and lace and such. The chair creaked but she kept her eyes closed.

After what must have been half an hour or so of near silence save for Miss Cunningham’s surprisingly heavy breathing, Gray’s heavy tread returned. Meredith gingerly opened her eyes and saw his jaw was still set angrily. He stopped at the foot of the bed, holding a large wooden box. “I trust you have played chess before.”

“Yes.”

Gray moved to place the box, really a low table similar to a breakfast tray, over her lap. The surface was checkered parquetry. A drawer had been fashioned wi

th little handles on each side to hold the pieces.

“Good. That will give you something to do other than think ill of me. A game to while away the hours. Cunningham, I’ll take dinner here at eight.”

The chair creaked and Meredith was startled that it hadn’t been Miss Cunningham keeping her company, but the butler. He even appeared amused. “Of course, my lord. I’ll see to it personally. Enjoy the game.”