A Night of Secrets (35 page)

Meg’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“What?” the Constable demanded at the same time.

He wasn’t sure who looked more surprised. Grayson strolled to the sideboard. He’d done it, said the words and now he couldn’t take them back. Strangely, he felt more relieved than worried. He poured the Constable another drink and carried the glass to the man, resisting the urge to grin. He was getting an inordinate amount of pleasure from seeing the Constable’s shocked expression. The man was actually sputtering.

He snatched the drink from Grayson’s hand. “Explain this nonsense!”

Grayson returned to the desk, casually leaning against the edge as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Yes, you see, we’ve found we cannot live without each other.”

Meg rushed to his side in a flurry of skirts that rustled and cried out in protest. “Grayson, do not be ridiculous.”

Grayson smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Lovely, isn’t she?”

The Constable tossed back his drink, and swiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Mr. Bellamont, I do sincerely hope for everyone’s benefit that this is a jest.”

“Oh no, no jest. She is quite infatuated with me and insists on a quick marriage. Between you and me, I’m sure you understand why.” He winked and Meg gasped.

She opened her mouth to rebut. Before she could say a word, he wrapped his arm around her waist and jerked her up against his body. Her lush form was stiff against him. “Can’t stay away from me.”

The Constable stood so fast his glass fell to the floor, rolling across the carpet. “I do not know what is going on, but this is ridiculous. I will not believe for one moment that you would risk your reputation, your life, for this...this
woman
.”

Grayson stepped toward the man, his annoyance turning to anger. That feral animal within was starting to protest. “Be careful how you speak of my future wife.”

Meg scampered in front of him, apparently thinking to protect the Constable. “He won’t give up his life.” She turned to face Grayson, her hands flat against his chest. “I won’t let you toss away your life for me.”

Grayson’s heart warmed.

“You think to protect her?” the Constable sneered.

Grayson wrapped his arm around Meg’s waist and drew her close. No one mattered but Meg. He cupped the side of her face as the Constable cursed, sputtering nonsense behind them. “Trust me,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“What’s going on here?” Vicar James stood in the doorway, his weary gaze on Grayson and Meg.

“Nothing,” Meg said, flushing. “It’s nothing Papa. Please return to breakfast.” She tried to step away, but Grayson held her tight.

“Your daughter is marrying Mr. Bellamont. Hadn’t you heard?” the Constable said.

Her father paled. “What is this?”

Meg elbowed him in the gut and Grayson finally relented, releasing his hold. “I am not marrying him.”

Her refusal annoyed him to no end. Why did she always have to be so stubborn? Didn’t she realize that marrying him was best for all?

“Mr. Bellamont has gotten it into his head to protect Miss James.” The Constable laughed. “You think with your money and connections you can save her? How romantic.”

Grayson ignored the Constable and focused on Meg’s father. “Actually, I think to save your daughter’s reputation, Mr. James.”

Her father paled even further, his hand reaching out to Mary Ellen, who had just stepped into the room. “What do you mean?”

He knew he was going to embarrass and hurt her. There was the possibility that she mightn’t forgive him, but he had no other alternative. “Surely you’ve realized the consequences of your daughter’s stay in my home?”

The Vicar shook his head, his bushy brows furrowing with confusion. Meg’s face turned a brilliant red. If Vicar James didn’t realize, Meg knew exactly what he implied.

“No one is thinking any such thing,” she snapped, glaring up at him.

“Actually, they are Meg,” Mary Ellen said and Grayson could have kissed the woman.

Meg closed her eyes in surrender, no doubt wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole. He should have felt guilty. He didn’t.

“They’ve been talking, Meg. With the murder and now that you’re staying here, well, it’s not good.”

“But...but surely not. I’ve fed their children when they’ve had no money. I’ve nursed their sick.” It was a last, desperate attempt to cling to something. They didn’t care about her family, they’d proven they could not forgive and forget.

The room fell silent and tears glistened in Meg’s eyes. “I’ve tried so hard,” she whispered. Grayson grabbed her hand and pulled her to the far side of the room, as far away from the others as possible.

“What have you tried for?” he asked her, stepping so close, he blocked the others from view.

“To make up...” she whispered, but couldn’t seem to go on.

He cupped the side of her face. “To make up for your families indiscretions.”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter. My reputation is in ruins.”

He brushed away her tears with his thumb. He wanted to kiss away her worries. Make love to her until she forgot her problems. “It doesn’t have to be. This is my fault and I will atone for it.”

She finally met his gaze, but he wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. She looked confused, hurt, exhausted. “Why would you have to?”

“Because I do have some sense of honor.”

The Constable cursed and paced to the fireplace. “This won’t work! It won’t, I tell you.”

Grayson stepped closer to Meg, his hard body pressed to her lush form. It was just the two of them in the alcove of the window. Meg stared at his chest, her body trembling. He could practically taste her fear. He wanted to pull her close and offer her words of comfort.

His finger slipped under her chin, tilting her head back so she was forced to look at him. “Marry me, Meg.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, panic flaring in her eyes. “Stuff your honor, Gray. I won’t marry someone because they feel honor bound.”

Grayson felt the weight of helplessness. He didn’t know what to do, what to say to get her to stay with him, because he didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t understand these strange emotions swirling within him.

“Meg.” Grayson could feel Vicar James shuffle up behind them. He wanted to curse the man’s inopportune timing. But Grayson had no say in Meg’s life, at least not yet. So instead, Grayson stepped aside.

For the first time since Grayson had met the old man, Vicar James looked sincere and defiant.

“Yes, Papa.”

“You will marry Mr. Bellmont.”

Grayson was thrilled and shocked, Meg looked neither, only horrified. “Papa, please, no.”

Her continued rejection hurt. Vicar James tilted his chin and his eyes took on a fierce determination that Grayson admired. “You will marry Mr. Bellamont.”

Grayson wasn’t the only one surprised by the old man’s declaration. He sensed Meg’s panic a moment before she swayed, stumbling back. “No,” she whispered.

He didn’t have time to be offended. As her eyes closed and she slumped toward the ground, he was ready, sweeping her into his arms.

***************************************************

“You hadn’t really thought to get out of the marriage by fainting.”

Slowly, Meg became aware of the deep timber of Grayson’s voice. She blinked rapidly, her lashes fluttering against her upper cheeks. Grayson’s face wavered before coming into sharp focus. His greens eye were sparkling, mischievous, yet there was a warmth there she had never seen before. He trailed his finger down the side of her face. Meg closed her eyes with a sigh, taking comfort in his warm touch.

“Where am I?” she asked. Perhaps she was dreaming. Lord knew she’d dreamt about Grayson often enough.

“My room.”

His room? Her eyes opened, her confusion slowly clearing. “Why?”

“Hanna was still sleeping in yours. I brought you here.”

She pressed her hands into the soft mattress, attempting to sit up. His scent marked the room, swirling around her, confusing her thoughts. “Mr. Bellamont, I do not believe it appropriate—”

Grayson pressed her back by her shoulders. She was no match for his strength. “No, stay where you are. Of course it’s appropriate, since we’ll be married tomorrow. You might as well get use to sleeping in my bed.”

Everything came roaring back on a wave of emotion. Grayson asking her to marry him. The Constable accusing her of murder…again. Papa forcing her to accept Grayson’s hand. Heat shot to Meg’s face and she feared she’d faint once more. “Mr. Bellamont—”

“Grayson.”

She gritted her teeth. “Grayson

“I’ve taken too much of your blood.” He took a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger, looking completely unconcerned. “In my defense, you are so incredibly addictive. You will rest. Tomorrow, we will marry.”

Anger made her gasp. “Really, because at this point, I’m thinking we won’t.”

He smiled, a slow smile that showed off his dimple and sent her pulse racing. His fingers trailed down her arm to her wrist, where he made little swirly marks against the sensitive skin.

She shook her head and jerked her arm away, unable to think when he touched her. “Stop that.”

With a sigh, he stood and strolled to the fireplace. “You will marry me, Miss James, because if you don’t, you will be on your own.”

His harsh words troubled her. She sat up, leaning back against his pillows. “I’ve always been on my own, Mr. Bellamont so your threat has no substance.”

He turned to face her, leaning against the mantel like a lazy lord. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you need me.”

She released a wry laugh and crossed her arms over her chest. “Utter rubbish.” His words rang true, but she’d die a slow death before admitting her need for the man.

“The other day your father was drinking again.”

Meg felt the blood drain from her face as tears stung her eyes. “You lie! He wouldn’t! Not after everything that’s happened.” She knew her father. Grayson was being cruel to hurt her for some reason. He wouldn’t have drunk again, not after what they’d gone through. He’d promised.

But Grayson didn’t respond and she saw the truth in his eyes.

“And I’m sure you are thrilled.”

“Not at all.”

She dared to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His face was stoic. He didn’t look pleased, he looked almost sad. He moved to his bedside table and reached into the drawer. Meg noticed that the medal and journal before he handed her a handkerchief. So many things she didn’t know about the man she was supposedly marrying.

Meg sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. “When, who saw him?”

“Only my gardener.”

Thank God. She took in a deep breath and focused on the ceiling, refusing to cry again. “He hasn’t since...since that one time. Why would he again?”

“The stress, most likely because of...”

“Me,” she whispered.

Grayson sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand, his grasp strong, warm. “Marry me and you’ll never have to worry about what others say. You’ll never have to worry about a house, money.”

She wanted to press his hand to her heart. She wanted to cuddle next to him and readily agree. She couldn’t. Her conscious would not let her. “Why, Grayson. Why would you want to marry me? I’ve brought you nothing but—”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Her train of thought dissipated. Slowly, he nibbled her lower lip, until she sighed, opening her mouth. He took advantage by sweeping his velvet tongue inside. She was barely aware when he pushed her back into the soft mattress, his hard body pressing into her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and dear God, she wanted him closer.

As if sensing her desire, his hand slipped up her leg, her skirts crinkling. Meg sucked in a breath, but didn’t push him away. If anything, her legs fell apart, welcoming his touch. Just as she started to relax, he pulled away from her. Meg felt as if she’d just been dropped off a cliff. She took her lower lip between her teeth, resisting the urge to call him back. Grayson was already standing, stepping back as if parting from her was nothing to cry over.

“I could say you should marry me because you need me, and your family needs me. But in reality, it’s obvious you want me and I’ve made it clear I want you.”

Meg’s mouth dropped. He’d used her to prove a point!

“I want you, Meg. It is up to you whether you will be married the next time I take you.”

With those words left hanging in the air, he strolled nonchalantly across the room. Before she could respond, he closed the door, leaving her fuming and alone.

Chapter 19

“You can’t possibly think fainting would get you out of marriage,” Mary Ellen said, shaking her head as if reprimanding a child.

From her chair near the fireplace. Meg glared at her sister. “I was overwhelmed and recovering from an illness. I certainly didn’t do it on purpose.”