“You were, weren’t you? I’m sorry about ruining your bath.”
“I’ll forgive you—this time. But don’t let it happen again.” A stern note entered his voice, but he was smiling.
Megan smiled back. “No, I won’t,” she promised. “I really don’t make a habit of invading gentlemen’s bedchambers. I was just—upset.”
“Then it’s to be hoped that you don’t get upset too often.” This was said in an extremely dry tone that made Megan laugh.
“You’re really very nice,” she said, as if she had made a surprising discovery. “Not at all as I remember. You always seemed so—so distant. As if you didn’t like me very much!”
Justin felt another pang of conscience.
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” His eyes were steady on hers. “I suppose the only excuse I can offer you is that I haven’t had much experience with children.”
“I’m not a child,” Megan pointed out. Looking at the slender yet temptingly curved shape of her as she perched so trustingly on his knees, Justin was forced to agree.
“No,” he said. “But you were.”
“Well, since I’m not now, maybe we can wipe the slate clean and start all over again. I’ll try my best to behave like a proper young lady—Miss Chevington always said I could if I tried—if you don’t stay so—so far away all the time. After all, even though I know
we’re not really related, you’re the only family I’ve got.”
This last was said with such simple sincerity that it had the effect of making Justin feel like a villain. It also helped him to keep a tight rein on his baser instincts, which were reacting automatically to the girl’s undeniable loveliness. Her eyelids were red and swollen from crying; a few tears still sparkled in the sooty blackness of her lashes. Her little nose was faintly red at the tip, and her mouth had a soft, smudged look that he found very appealing. Her hair swirled around her face and upper body in a wild profusion of gleaming ebony curls, having escaped the last of its pins during her emotional outburst. Her blue dress, with its demure, schoolgirl neckline and long sleeves, was damp on one side from where she had lain against him. It clung to her breasts enticingly. They were surprisingly full for so young a girl, he noted, and beneath them her waist seemed incredibly tiny. He looked up again, to find her smiling at him. His breath caught a little, and his hands clenched convulsively over the padded arms of the chair. His first impulse had been to draw her close again. Clearly she had no idea of the dangers inherent in her present position. Quite obviously, she regarded him as an ancient but surprisingly kind protector. Which was what he was to her, of course. Still, he could not help thinking of all the women who had had cause to regard him very differently, and a wry smile twisted his lips.
“Well?” she said impatiently, and he realized that she was waiting for him to reply to her proposal.
“No more wild dancing. I’m sure you know that it’s not done for ladies to show their legs.”
“Limbs,” Megan corrected, smiling mischievously. Justin smiled back, but continued his lecture in the same chiding tone.
“No more joining up with gypsies, and no more running away from school—or anything else improper, which I may have overlooked for the moment. Agreed?”
She gave him a dimpled smile. “Agreed,” she said, laughing a little. “I just did those things—well, most of them—because I wanted you to notice me. It’s not very nice, always being palmed off on someone’s secretary. Although I must say that Charles has always been very kind to me.”
“He’s fond of you, I think.”
“Yes.” She was smiling. Justin leaned back in the chair, his expression indecipherable as he watched her. She was a bewitching little creature, quite apart from her physical beauty. Why had he not noticed it before? And then he realized, with a twinge of shame, that this was the first time he had ever really talked to her. Their previous meetings had all been conducted in the parlor of whatever school she happened to be attending, with either the headmistress or Stanton in attendance. Usually he had inquired about her progress at school, and if there was anything she required. Her replies were just as formal; always she ended by thanking him, by telling him that she had everything she needed. Looking back, Justin could see that her
eyes had, upon several occasions, beseeched him for something, but at the time he had simply been too preoccupied to notice.
“I sincerely apologize, my dear,” he said quietly. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him with some surprise.
“Whatever for?” she asked, wondering.
“I haven’t been much of a guardian to you, have I?” His mouth curled with self-derision. “But I’ll make it up to you, I promise. When you turn eighteen, I’ll bring you up to London and give you the finest come-out a girl could wish for. You’ll go to lots of parties and learn to dance and flirt, and most likely break the hearts of all the young men.”
Megan cocked her head at him. “Do you think so? It seems very unlikely—that I should break hearts, I mean.”
Something flickered for a moment in Justin’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s unlikely at all,” he said a little abruptly, then shifted his legs beneath her slight weight. “And while we’re on the subject of things that are improper for a young lady to do, I think I should mention that sitting on a gentleman’s lap would definitely fall into that category.”
Megan’s face flushed a deep rose; she appeared to be aware of her position for the first time. She slid off his knees at once and stood rather awkwardly by his chair, looking at her hands which she had clasped in front of her. She looked like the innocent schoolgirl she was. Justin felt a stab of irritation at himself. In
his sudden need to get her off his lap, he hadn’t meant to embarrass her.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a stifled voice. “I didn’t think… ”
“Don’t worry about it.” Justin got to his feet and looked down at her bent head. The top of her head did not quite reach his shoulder. Suddenly, he felt very impatient with himself. Despite her maturing body, she was a child, after all, and he was the closest thing to a parent she possessed. He vowed to keep that fixed firmly in his mind. In his own defense, he supposed that it would take a while to become accustomed to the fact that he—he, Justin Brant, noted connoisseur of beautiful females—had so unexpectedly acquired yet another beautiful female as his ward.
“I put you there, after all,” he said easily, tilting her chin with a careless hand and smiling into her upturned face. “So if anyone was improper, it was I.”
After a moment, she smiled back at him. They were smiling rather foolishly at each other when Justin’s stomach interrupted with a loud rumble.
“Oh, I’m keeping you from your dinner,” she said politely. “I’ll go.”
Justin dropped his hand from her chin. He was conscious of an impulse to ask her to stay and share his supper, but the impropriety of her being alone with him in such intimate circumstances held him back. A young lady’s reputation was her most precious asset, and if it became known, even among the servants, that she had been alone with him in his
bedroom—to say nothing of the fact that she had seen him in his bath—their relationship would inevitably become suspect.
“Megan,” he said, sounding as uncomfortable as he felt but feeling that he had to warn her. She had already taken a few steps toward the door, but as he spoke she looked back over her shoulder.
“Yes, my lord?”
“My dear, it would be best if you didn’t mention your visit to my bedroom to anyone, even the Donovans. I realize you might not understand why, but… ”
“Is it because people might think we were lovers?” Megan asked. Justin felt his jaw drop. He stared at her for a moment without speaking. Damn it, he was blushing like a schoolboy. The pictures her words conjured up stunned him with their vividness.
“That is a most improper question!” he snapped, still shaken.
Megan did not look particularly abashed. “I know,” she acknowledged, smiling a little. “Young ladies are supposed to pretend that they don’t know about such things. But I thought that you and I could speak frankly. Can we not?”
Justin felt harassed. This whole day had turned into a disaster of major proportions. Quite how it had happened, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that it was somehow all tied up with this maddening girl who was even now looking at him so guilelessly with her violet eyes. He thought of his plan to break her to bridle, and
inwardly acknowledged that this particular filly might well give him more trouble than he had anticipated. The problem was, she was so goddamned beautiful…
“Oh, yes, of course you can speak frankly to me,” he said, giving up the battle for the moment. What he needed most now was time alone to recover his balance. “Run to your bed, like a good girl, and we’ll sort this whole thing out tomorrow.”
“All right.” She smiled seraphically at him. “Good night, my lord.”
“Good night,” Justin answered automatically.
Megan was just reaching out to touch the door handle when a sharp rap sounded on the door. She and Justin both started.
“Wait!” Justin called out imperiously, consternation plain in his eyes as he met Megan’s. She was chewing nervously on her lower lip as she backed quickly away from the door.
“I’ve only come to put a warming pan in your bed, my lord.” Mrs. Donovan’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Them sheets get dreadful musty!”
“Just a minute, Mrs. Donovan!” Justin responded. He was tempted to tell her to forget the warming pan, that he didn’t need it, but he was afraid that she might think there was something strange in that. After all, the night would be cold.
“Get under the bed,” he whispered to Megan, coming swiftly to her side. She looked up at him, surprised, and then started to giggle.
“Hush!” he warned her, pushing her, one arm over to the side of the bed. “It won’t do for her to find you here. Now get under there, and for God’s sake be quiet until I tell you to come out.”
“Worried about your reputation, my lord?” she whispered saucily, but when Justin glared at her without answering, she did as she was told. He waited just long enough to make sure that no part of her showed before crossing to sit before the fire. When he was settled, he told Mrs. Donovan to come in.
She threw him a quick look before moving to the bed to pull back the covers and push the warming pan between the sheets. From her silence, Justin gathered that she was very much on her dignity; probably she thought he held her to blame for Megan’s wild behavior at the so-called birthday party. Justin would have set her mind at rest if Megan hadn’t been under the bed. He was afraid that she might pop out like a jack-in-the-box and cause all three of them no end of embarrassment.
Mrs. Donovan plumped the pillows, then turned away from the bed. “If that’s all you require, my lord?” she asked, eager to please. Justin nodded, wanting to be rid of her, but she wasn’t ready to go.
“Was there anything wrong with the meal, my lord?” she asked, glancing at the untouched supper tray. Justin sighed inwardly, knowing that of all things, she prided herself on her cooking. And, as he thought with some longing, it was indeed something to be proud of. He had no doubt the dinner was delicious.
“No, not at all, Mrs. Donovan,” he said hastily. “I just felt a trifle unwell, that’s all. All that traveling, you know.”
Her face softened. A bad traveler herself, he had picked on the one excuse she understood.
“You should have said something, my lord,” she reproached him, moving closer to stare at him with motherly concern. “I would have prepared you one of my own special purges. Nothing like it for setting a queasy stomach to rights again.”
“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Donovan.” Justin tried to keep her from seeing his shudder. Once, as a young boy, he had been visiting Maam’s Cross Court and had eaten too many green apples. Mrs. Donovan had dosed him with one of her famous purges, and the cure had been far worse than the ailment. Not even for the sake of his ward’s reputation would he suffer through that again.
“Very well, my lord, if you say so.” From her tone, Mrs. Donovan would have dearly loved to argue with him, if she had dared. “With your permission, then, I’ll take the tray back downstairs. When a body’s sick, he don’t want to smell food!”
She barely waited for Justin’s faint assent before snatching up the tray and heading for the door. Justin watched his dinner disappear with a feeling of inevitability. Going hungry to his bed would put the cap on a miserable day, he thought bleakly as the door closed behind the housekeeper.
She had barely gone before Megan was scrambling
out from under the bed. The minx was covered with dust—apparently the maids didn’t consider it necessary to sweep under his bed!—and grinning from ear to ear. Justin regarded her with a jaundiced eye, not bothering to get to his feet.
“I hope you’re happy,” he said morosely. “You just cost me my dinner.”
“I’m sorry.” The grin vanished; she sounded genuinely contrite as she crossed the room to stand looking down at him worriedly. “If you’re really hungry, I can raid the kitchen for you later. I used to do it all the time at school.”
“I think I can live without eating for one night. Now get along to your own bed. Scoot!”
“Are you sure? I’m really very good at it, you know!”
“I’m sure!” Justin’s voice was firm. “Now get going before Mrs. Donovan decides to come back with one of her purges. And if she does, I swear I’ll strangle you!”
Megan, who had experienced Mrs. Donovan’s purges herself, giggled at the image of her lordly guardian being forced to swallow a sickening draught while Mrs. Donovan looked on. Justin glared at her, then grinned reluctantly. Her laugh was infectious.
“Get out of here!” he ordered, standing up. Megan, still chuckling, went to the door. “And for God’s sake, don’t let anyone see you!”
“I won’t,” she promised, smiling at him over her shoulder. Then, with one hand on the knob, she
turned back to face him, saying, “I didn’t mean it, you know!”
“Mean what?” Justin asked.
“I
don’t
hate you, my lord,” she said softly, and before Justin could reply she whisked herself away.
CHAPTER
3