More Than a Mistress (12 page)

He fixed his dark gaze on Merry. ‘Logan, I gave an instruction earlier that no one was to enter the grounds without permission?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘No one is to leave, either. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, my lord.’ Logan’s voice held no expression. ‘I will bring the doctor up the moment he arrives, my lord.’

‘Good. Please show Miss Draycott to her room. Go with him, Merry. You will see that to enter or leave your room, you, or anyone else, must pass by here.’ He shot her a dark look. ‘We will dine together as soon as the doctor leaves. We have not finished our discussion.’ His dark gaze turned to Logan.

Impassivity masked the butler’s expression. ‘This way, Miss Draycott.’

‘Brian will fetch you once the doctor has been.’ Charlie’s voice followed her down the corridor.

They passed a door. The only one in the suite. The water closet, no doubt. The one new-fangled invention Grandfather had refused to entertain in Draycott House.

The next chamber was a bedroom decorated in the French style. The fire was already lit, along with the candles. Yet no one had passed by Charlie’s room. She frowned. ‘You surely weren’t expecting us?’

Logan glanced back along the corridor and stepped deeper into the room. ‘This suite of rooms is made ready when his lordship is expected.’ He frowned. ‘He has on occasion been accompanied by a…a lady, but not for a long time. Still, we must be prepared.’

‘I see.’ She wished she hadn’t said anything. The thought of being one of many didn’t sit well in her stomach. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll send one of the maids to attend you, since you only brought a nurse for the child. She’ll bring up your valise.’

Merry nodded. ‘Where is Mrs Falkner?’

‘In another wing. You will have to ask one of the footmen to guide you if you want to see her. Will that be all?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

He bowed and left, not back the way he had come, but in the opposite direction. She rushed to see where he went, but the corridor was empty. Charlie was wrong. There wasn’t only one way into this suite of rooms. Somewhere a servants’ staircase lurked. A secret way in and out.

How could he not know? Because men like him didn’t notice servants. They were like furniture, only there to serve him. How they arrived and left was a question that likely never entered his head.

Chapter Thirteen

C
harlie suffered the doctor to put his arm in a sling, then he sank into an armchair beside the fire.

‘You are lucky, young man,’ Dr Wells proclaimed, packing up his instruments. ‘The wound is shallow. You should feel as fine as fivepence tomorrow, but to be sure I wish you would allow me bleed you. For sleep, you would be better off with laudanum.’

‘Is your patient not co-operating, Doctor?’

Merry’s voice. It gave his flagging spirits a lift. He turned his head to watch her glide in. She’d changed from the practical gown in which she’d travelled into something of vivid pink, very low at the neck. Her breasts looked delicious.

He frowned. She was up to something. Damnation, he should not have been so hard on her in front of Logan, wouldn’t have been if she didn’t fight him every step of the way.

‘Is your patient permitted wine, Doctor?’ she asked.

‘He must suit himself,’ the doctor grumbled, buckling his bag. ‘He has no interest in my advice, but please do not feed him red meat.’

Charlie leaned back against the cushions, watched her cross the room to the console. She moved with purpose, her curvaceous body supple yet elegant. He also felt wearier than he wanted to admit. A glass of wine would set him up better than all the doctor’s potions and pills. ‘I will take a glass of wine, Miss Draycott.’

Merry turned and glared at him.

The doctor’s heavy white brows drew together. ‘Wine might help you sleep, or it might make the fever worse.’ He bowed. ‘Good day to you, my lord.’ He turned to Merry. ‘Whoever saw to his wound in the first place did a fine job.’

She smiled. ‘Thank you. I will pass on your praise.’

The doctor bowed. ‘Send for me if you feel worse.’

‘Thank you. Show the doctor out, Brian,’ Charlie said. ‘Order dinner to be brought up. I am sure Miss Draycott is in need of sustenance.’

Brian ushered the doctor out.

The servants would never dare gossip and not one word would pass Dr Wells’s lips about Merry’s presence in the house. The duke paid him a handsome sum to serve the Mountfords on their rare visits to Yorkshire.

But Merry didn’t know that. She would no doubt be very angry with him for speaking her name. She deserved it after keeping her ancestry a secret. He was looking forward to sparring with her about her intended departure, too.

Despite her wilfulness, and the awkward situation she’d forced on him, she would remain here as long as he chose. As long as there was any chance she was in danger.

Damn, he wished he didn’t feel quite so hot, or so bloody weak. And with his arm in a sling, he felt at a distinct disadvantage. If she decided to leave, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stop her.

Merry handed him his glass.

He raised it in toast. ‘To the beautiful woman in my bedroom. I had far rather she was in my bed.’

An unwilling smile curved her lips. She shook her head. ‘You are incorrigible.’

He sipped at the wine. ‘I meant what I said, Merry. You are not to leave Durn until we find out just who is behind these attacks.’

She shrugged. ‘Why did you not allow the doctor to bleed you?’

A sudden change of subject, even for her. His hackles rose, but he let it pass. For now. ‘The wound is fine, thanks to you. I have already lost enough blood for one day.’

‘Then you should take the laudanum, it will help you sleep.’

The drug left him open to the dreams. He knew from experience. He stifled a shudder. ‘I prefer to keep my wits about me.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Did you think to sneak off in the night?’

A scoffing sound came from her throat. ‘Another night without sleep? I can’t see Caro agreeing to any such thing.’

All the same, she looked a little disconcerted. She’d given it serious thought, he realised. ‘No one will be allowed in or out of Durn tonight.’

She rose and went to the hearth, sipping her wine as she stared down into the flames. Plotting more ways to flout his authority.

‘It will be interesting to learn if anyone did try to gain entrance at Draycott House,’ she mused.

‘Yes, it will.’

‘How long do you think we should wait before deciding it is safe for us to return home?’

A fair question. ‘I don’t know. I will have some investigations undertaken first.’

‘And in the meantime, I am here in exactly what guise—your mistress or your betrothed?’

Ah, now they had reached the crux of what bothered her. ‘What about both?’ he said with a grin.

She swung around, a gleam of anger in her eyes. He liked the way her passions rose so quickly to the surface. All of them.

His body hardened. ‘Come here.’

In a few quick strides she crossed the room to his side, remaining just out of reach.

‘Closer,’ he ordered, the urge to bedevil her strong.

She eyed the distance between them without moving.

‘I don’t bite.’

‘I do,’ she muttered. The sensual tension between them flared. Never far below the surface, it rose to the temperature of a blast furnace.

He laughed. ‘Oh, Merry, don’t tempt me.’

‘Once your servants realise the sort of woman Beth is, don’t be surprised if they hand in their notice.’

‘Is that why you had them serving as chambermaids?’

‘Partly. Jane made it worse, though, by trying to lure the housekeeper’s husband into her bed.’

The one who had disappeared. ‘Do you think her departure is suspect?’

Merry shrugged. ‘Not really. She’s never really taken to the idea of reform.’

‘Nevertheless, a possibility.’ He’d set his steward to making enquiries first thing in the morning.

A polite cough heralded the entry of the dinner tray wielded by two footmen in livery. A third pulled out a table from the wall, opened out an extra leaf and placed a chair on each side. In moments, a sumptuous dinner for two was laid out and the men had departed.

He could see Merry was impressed by the widening of her eyes. She thought her grandfather a powerful man, but when it came to a duke, the power was awesome.

He pushed to his feet. ‘Shall we?’

She let go a sigh of defeat. ‘I could eat a horse.’

Glad to see her practical side win out, he gave her a smile of approval. Female dramatics were such a bore.

‘Would you like me to pour you more red wine?’ She nodded at his arm in its sling.

‘That is kind of you.’

‘Sit yourself down, then.’ She took their glasses to the console.

Awkwardly, he pulled out her chair and then seated himself on the opposite side of the table. He glanced over when she seemed to take a long time. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘I—the stopper is a little tight. There, I have it now.’ She turned with a glass in each hand and a smile on her face. A rather strained smile, he thought. Weariness, perhaps.

‘Here you are.’ She set the glass down beside his plate and settled herself in her chair. She lifted her glass. ‘Thank you for your generous welcome and your timely rescue.’

Thank God she’d decided to accept his hospitality instead of fighting him. ‘To the loveliest woman of my acquaintance,’ he said, raising his glass.

‘Very gallant.’ She sipped her wine. ‘Let us see what culinary delights they have brought us.’

She lifted the cover. A fricasseed breast of chicken, covered in mushroom sauce, filled the room with a delicious aroma.

Charlie took a deep swallow of his wine and set his glass down. He was hungrier than he’d thought. He lifted the cover from his plate and let her help him to some buttered parsnips.

Merry tucked into her food. ‘Delicious.’

Charlie tasted from his own plate. The meat was so tender he had no trouble cutting it with his fork. ‘You are right. It is excellent, even if there is no red meat.’

‘You have a talented chef to prepare this at a moment’s notice.’

‘Poor fellow, he nearly goes mad stuck here all the time with no one to cook for, except for our annual visit.’

‘Why does he stay?’

‘Because the duke makes it worth his while.’

‘Brass greases the wheels,’ she said. She picked up her glass. ‘Here’s to lots of brass.’

He grinned. ‘I love your bluntness, Merry. I really do.’ He picked up his glass and tossed back the remainder.

He leaned back to watch her eat, his appetite having already been assuaged. His appetite for food, that was. He also wanted her in his bed.

The question was, having let his fury have free rein, would she now turn him down? Sometimes she made him so angry he spoke and acted without thought. Rashly. A battle it seemed he fought and lost over and over.

He watched her devour her food, her white teeth biting into a morsel of chicken, her throat moving when she swallowed. The red wine staining her lips.

She tilted her head to look at him.

His eyelids drooped. He blinked and forced them open.

‘You look sleepy,’ she said.

Hell, he didn’t feel tired, he felt as if his head was stuffed with wool. A thought pierced the fog slowly building in his mind, a not unfamiliar sensation. He turned his head to look at the wine decanter…and the bottle of laudanum left beside it by the doctor.

‘Damn it, Merry,’ he said, his tongue thick, ‘what did you do?’

‘I gave you your medicine,’ she said, her voice sounding distant and foggy. Then she was beside him, looming over him, helping him to his feet. ‘Time you retired, my lord.’

He staggered to his feet. ‘You idiot. You don’t know what you’ve done.’

She put an arm around his waist and helped him to the bed. ‘Doctor’s orders,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

He measured his length on the bed. Fought to keep his eyes open, not to descend into the dark wavering at the edge of his vision. He felt the covers slide over his body. He grabbed for her wrist, caught it and held it fast. ‘Two things, Merry.’

Her eyes looked huge. She nodded.

‘Promise you won’t leave in the middle of the night.’

She tugged uselessly at her hand. He gripped it tighter and saw a grimace of pain. She nodded, her lips thin. Angry again. He wanted to laugh.

‘I’ll take the nod as a yes,’ he whispered. ‘And hold you to it. Second, light all the bloody candles.’

He couldn’t hold on to her any longer. The darkness was winning. His hand went lax. Even as he fell into unwelcome sleep, he heard her move away from the bed.

Blast. He’d trusted her again and once more she’d tricked him.

‘Thirsty.’

The voice from the bed sounded hoarse and dry. Merry rose, her back twingeing with the ache of unaccustomed discomfort. A carriage ride and now hours in a chair. She poured a glass of water and went to the bed.

‘I can’t breathe.’ He panted for air and threw the covers back. ‘God, it’s dark.’

She tried to hold the glass to his lips, but he turned his head away. ‘My name is Major Robert Mountford.’

‘Charlie,’ she said, a trickle of fear running through her stomach.

‘Hide. I’ll cover us.’ He grunted, his head rolling. ‘Dear God, the stink.’

His free arm flailed, then he lay still.

A dream. It had to be a dream. Should she ring the bell for help? Try to wake him up? Perhaps the fever was worse. She put a palm to his forehead.

Hot, but not dreadfully so.

He flinched away. ‘Lay still. Got to keep still. Will? Talk to me.’ He sounded panicked.

‘I’m here,’ she said.

He quieted. He must have fallen back to sleep.

He stiffened. ‘I hear them. They’re coming. Why do they come?’ He stopped breathing. Terrified, she grasped his arm to feel for a pulse. His limb felt as stiff as a board.

‘No. No. Oh God, Will. I’m sorry.’

‘Charlie,’ she whispered. ‘What is the matter?’

‘They’ve gone.’ He let go a long breath. ‘Will, are you still there?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, not sure if it was the right thing to say or not.

‘Thrice cursed rain. It has to get light soon. If only I could see.’ His chuckle was a horrible gasping sound. ‘Can’t move. My chest hurts. I’m cold.’ He shivered. ‘So damnably dark… They are out there. Hear them?’

She couldn’t stand it any longer. She shook him hard. ‘Charlie, wake up. It is me, Merry.’

‘My name is Major Robert Deveril Mountford.’

‘Your name is Charles. You are at Durn Castle in Yorkshire.’

His eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright and put his hand around her throat. ‘I will not let you finish me off.’

‘Charlie,’ she gasped through a throat being squeezed.

His eyes focused.

He let her go and stared at her. He looked around, then back at her face. ‘Merry?’

‘Yes,’ she said, rubbing at her neck.

He glanced around; he was shivering and pale. He clenched his jaw, visibly pulling himself together. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No. I startled you awake. I think you thought I was attacking you.’

He inhaled a deep shuddering breath. ‘I remember,’ he said. His dark eyes held accusation. ‘Laudanum brings bad dreams.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

He inhaled a deep breath and looked around. ‘You couldn’t know. Thank you for lighting the candles.’

She nodded. ‘What happened to you?’

He stiffened. ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

‘Whatever you were seeing in your sleep has to be real.’

He looked at her for a long moment, then he smiled. ‘I thought you’d be on your way back to Draycott House.’ He held out his hand and she took it. He tugged her until she fell across the bed.

‘Your arm,’ she exclaimed. ‘Be careful.’

He tipped her chin and briefly brushed her lips with his mouth. ‘I know what will make me feel a whole lot better.’

She stared up at him and saw desire in his eyes, but his face was still pale and drawn.

‘Not before your arm is healed,’ she said.

‘But you will stay until then?’

‘Yes, I will stay until then.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Lie down next to me, Merry, and I am sure I will sleep just fine. I won’t be worrying about where you are.’

She settled beside him and he immediately relaxed. Did he think she believed she was the cause of his dream? He probably didn’t realise what he had said. Why had he called himself Robert? And what had he feared in the dark?