A Night of Secrets (31 page)

“Blood suckers and humans don’t match,” he said, then cursed himself for speaking it aloud.

“Who better for a vampire, than a human? Think about it. A ready meal at your beck and call.”

“And if my wife grows annoyed with me and doesn’t allow me to feed?”

She frowned. “Hmm, I hadn’t thought on that.”

There was a soft knock on the door.

Grayson lowered the paper, relieved for the interruption. “Yes?”

The door opened and Meg peeked inside.

His entire body flared to life, the blood inside him rushing through his veins in a roar. What was she doing here? Grayson stood so quickly his chair tilted back, before landing on all four legs with a thud that matched the hammer of his heart. He wasn’t prepared to see her, to be so close to her, this soon.

Seeing them, she dipped into a curtsey, pulling out the folds of her soft blue gown. The paper crinkled in his fisted hands. She looked young, beautiful, healthy and he couldn’t ignore the way her mere presence stirred desire deep within. Did she think of last night with fond memories? Did her need keep her up at night, tormenting her dreams? Or did she curse him the way she should?

Millie moved across the room, a rustle of lavender skirts. “Why Meg, how wonderful to see you up and about.”

She took Meg’s hands and kissed her on each cheek.

Meg frowned. “Did you not send for me?”

A layman would never have noticed the slight stiffening of Millie’s smile, but he most certainly did. “So glad you are better. You are better, aren’t you?” She was obviously trying to change the subject.

Meg nodded. The audacity of Millie to bring the woman here and force a marriage. What would she do next, send for a Vicar?

“Don’t even think about it.” He glared at Millie.

With a tilt of her chin she swept across the carpet toward him. She snatched the newspaper from his grasp, holding it behind her back. “Tell me what you just read.”

Grayson rubbed the back of his neck, feeling very much like a school lad being caught woolgathering. He dared a quick glance at Meg. With her brows drawn together, she looked as confused as he felt. “Something or another about the new trains.”

Millie smirked, damn her. “Hmm. What exactly?”

He snatched the paper from her hands, crumpled it and tossed it into the fire. “I bloody well don’t remember.”

“Exactly.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Exactly what?”

She stepped closer to him, her hands on her hips. “You’re obviously preoccupied and we both know what, or should I say
who
, has taken control of your thoughts.”

That damn heat crept up his neck into his face and he had to resist the urge to tug at his collar. He was a grown man, for god’s sake!

“Would you two like me to return later?” Meg interrupted, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “You seem to be keeping up the conversation well enough without me to interfere.”

“She should still be resting, Millie,” Grayson snapped, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Then stop drinking from her,” Millie replied just loud enough for them both to hear.

Meg flushed and looked away. “I’m fine, really.”

She didn’t like to be talked to like she wasn’t there. Why did he find her ire endearing? Disgusting, everything she did was endearing. The way she twisted her skirt in her hands when she was nervous. The way she took her lower lip between her teeth when she was thinking. Even the way she shouted his given name when she was annoyed with him.
Merde
, the woman had him thinking silly thoughts, desiring impossible dreams.

“My lord?” The butler stepped into the doorway. “A Vicar James and his daughters are here.”

Meg’s gaze widened, surprise and confusion sparkling in their blue depths. “You sent for my family?”

“Damn it, Millie,” he whispered.

Millie’s lips parted on an outraged gasp. “I had nothing to do with this.” And she actually had the audacity to look offended, as if only minutes ago she hadn’t been trying to latch him to Meg in marital bliss.

“Papa!” Meg cried out. She didn’t slow but threw her arms around the old man’s neck as he stepped into the room. Grayson frowned. The way Meg clung to the Vicar made it seem as if she’d been treated miserably.

“Meg!” Sally screamed, followed by Mary Ellen and finally Hanna. The three girls piled into the room, all grabbing onto Meg, surrounding her with hugs and excited grins on their pretty faces.

Grayson looked away, staring out the windows onto the rose garden. A twinge of something— regret, jealously—raced through his body. No, surely not either emotion. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at Meg. The pure joy on her face made his heart warm and at the same time painfully clench. Could he ever make her smile that way?

“My dear child, my dear child.” Mr. James patted his daughter’s cheek.

When Meg finally stepped back, she had tears trembling on her lashes. Grayson shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, wishing he could take away her pain, at the same time wishing he was anywhere but here. Somehow Meg had slipped into his body and taken hold of his heart, his mind, hell, his soul…if he had one.

“Mr. James, please come, sit,” Millie said, becoming hostess as he’d seemed to have lost his manners. She darted a worried glance at him, noticing his strange behavior.

The old man shuffled forward, as if every movement brought forth pain, and collapsed in a chair near the fireplace. The four girls followed, standing around him, awaiting his next command. He knew Meg would do anything for the old man. She’d do anything for her family, her friends, even if it meant sacrificing herself. Could she ever hold such loyalty toward him?

“What is it?” Meg asked. “Why are you here?”

“To visit, my dear.” Her father patted her hand.

Meg smiled and settled on the settee next to the man. Was Grayson the only one who noticed her smile didn’t reach her eyes? She knew, as did he, that something was wrong. “I’m so happy to see you, Papa.”

“And I you.”

Grayson leaned against his desk, while Millie sat in the chair across from the family, hanging onto their every word like she was watching a play. She was suddenly finding humans rather fascinating and he would have found that fact amusing if he wasn’t lost in his own problems. Life was so much easier when he’d kept to himself.

“Please,” Meg took her father’s hand in hers, “you must tell me everything. Are you all well?”

Grayson knew immediately something was wrong. Not one of the James girls met her sister’s gaze. He pushed away from his desk, his suspicion flaring.

“What is it?” Meg demanded.

Her father’s face flushed and he twisted his gnarled hands together in his lap. “We umm, well, my dear. We will be going to London for a spell.”

Meg paled. “London!”

Mr. James patted her hand. “Yes, you see, your uncle would like us to stay with him.”

But it was obvious the old man was lying and apparently Meg realized also. Her gaze slid to Mary Ellen. “What’s happened?”

Millie shot him a glance. He knew what she was thinking, with Hanna in London, their questions would be left unanswered. Hell, if he was more worried about Meg leaving him. The realization angered him more than he wanted to admit.

Mary Ellen shifted, her attention riveted to the floor.

Meg’s gaze jumped to her youngest sister. “Sally?”

“They made us leave,” the girl blurted, too young to care about manners.

“Sally!” Mary Ellen cried, glaring at her. “We promised we wouldn’t tell. Meg has enough to worry about.”

“Who made you leave?” Meg asked, interrupting their argument.

Mary Ellen’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “The town.”

Meg jumped to her feet. “But Lady Young swore she’d see you had a place to live out your retirement.”

For some odd reason, Grayson felt outraged on their behalf. Damn, but his feelings for Meg were growing into the ridiculousness.

“She’s changed her mind.” Mary Ellen picked at a loose thread on the back of the settee. “People in town complained.”

“Was it in writing?” Grayson asked, unable to remain quiet a moment longer. “Was it in writing that she would offer you retirement?”

Mr. James shook is head, his eyes heavy, dark, like a lost puppy.

“I don’t understand,” Millie said.

Meg swept to the windows, but not before Grayson noticed the tears in her eyes. His hands curled as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms, to offer her comfort that wasn’t rightfully his to give.

Mary Ellen settled on the settee, taking Meg’s place. “Papa thought the position permanent, as it was supposed to be. But when Lady Young had a second son who decided he’d like to be the Vicar, she swept Papa aside, swore she said it was a temporary position. Which isn’t true. Her son wasn’t even born when she hired Papa.”

Mr. James patted Mary Ellen’s hand. “She promised she’d see me taken care of, but that was before….” He shook his head. “I take the blame. If only…” The old man’s rheumy blue eyes sparkled with tears. If only the man hadn’t gotten drunk and made a spectacle of the family name. He’d been drinking even now. Grayson could smell the alcohol from where he stood, although humans wouldn’t detect the light odor. He wasn’t sure who to be angry with, Mr. James or this Lady Young. His gaze traveled to Meg, her body outlined by the soft glow of the morning sun. She looked like an angel. Too good for him.

“Surely you can fight this,” Millie said.

Mr. James held up his hand. “No, my dear. All of this, tis my burden to bear. Tis my own fault.”

Damn right, Grayson thought. He had children to take care of, he shouldn’t have been thinking of himself. But he’d lost his wife and his senses and that’s what love could do to a man...destroy him.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Meg didn’t face them as she made that statement.

The room fell silent. Grayson stiffened, preparing to interfere if need be.

“Of course not,” Mr. James finally said. “If anyone is to be condemned, tis I, Meg. You know that.”

Meg raced across the room and knelt by his chair. “Papa, I’m so sorry.” She rested her head on his knee, soft sobs echoing around them. Grayson could merely watch, his hands fisted as he resisted the urge to go to her, to promise her anything if she’d only stop crying. But he couldn’t because she didn’t belong to him.

“My poor child.” Mr. James smoothed his hand over Meg’s hair. “What has become of us? What have I done?”

Millie moved toward him, her face intent in a way he’d never seen on her. “Grayson, please, do something.”

Merde,
even Millie had fallen for their silly human emotions. The woman had seen men die, for God’s sake. Had killed a few herself. Yet, so had he and here he was wishing he could build a damn castle for the entire family just to see Meg smile.

“You’ll stay in the hunting lodge. All of you,” he blurted out.

Mr. James shook his head. “No, we can’t. We will burden this town no longer.”

“I insist.” Grayson swept across the room, ignoring Meg’s wide-eyed gaze. He tore open the door. Nelson pushed away from his position by the wall where he’d been eavesdropping and bowed.

“Take some servants. Head to the James household and pack their things. Have the maids ready rooms in the lodge.”

“Sir, please,” Mr. James said, shuffling to his feet. “We cannot stay here. It would not be proper.”

Millie rested her hand on the man’s forearm. “Just until things with Meg are cleared.”

Mr. James opened his mouth to protest, then pressed his lips into a thin line. His watery gaze focused on Meg. “What say you, Starling?”

But Meg was staring at Grayson, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. He didn’t know what she looked for and a part of him worried she’d see something she didn’t like.

Finally, she nodded and Grayson found he could breathe again.

“Meg,” her father whispered, his voice holding a warning.

“Please, Papa, for me. I can’t do this alone.”

Her words pierced Grayson’s heart, the pain actually physical. He wasn’t enough for her. He’d never be enough.

Vicar James took Meg’s hands and nodded.

Millie smiled, nodding as if Grayson had done the right thing when in reality he’d demanded they stay merely so he could be with Meg. He felt on the edge of battle, as if at any moment he might lose and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to win.

“Mr. James, girls,” Millie said, “please, come with me and I’ll find you some tea and biscuits.”

“You have gingersnaps?” Mr. James asked.

Grayson felt his lips twitch even as he continued to hold Meg’s gaze.

“I’m sure they do,” Millie replied.

The small group shuffled from the room and suddenly they were alone. Silence settled

comfortably around them. Whereas earlier he’d been desperate to escape her intense presence, now, he was merely happy to have these few moments alone with her.