His Perfect Game

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His Perfect Game Page 18

by Jenn Langston


  Greyson sat still in the drawing room wondering where the hell his wife was. He wanted to pace or yell or tear the place apart looking for her, but he kept a hold on his emotions. The wait was painful. He needed to see her now.

  An hour ago when he arrived, he’d marched up to her bedchamber hoping Jonathan’s claims were false. He wanted to see her keeping to her chambers nursing an illness. Upon finding the chamber empty, his fury mounted.

  In a fit of rage, he wanted to destroy the room, but he cooled at the sudden appearance of his fire angel. He recognized her immediately but didn’t understand how she got there, or rather, why she’d tended to him in London. He’d wanted to ask her but had bitten his tongue as she hadn’t seemed happy to see him.

  As their conversation progressed, Greyson could see her nerves and realized her words were lies. Studying her further had brought him a greater familiarity than memories of his fire angel. He knew her. His suspicions further began to take hold until he could no longer stand it. He needed to see his wife to confirm what his mind invented.

  As if conjured by his desperation, Lady Merrick entered the drawing room, the picture of ease in her gold gown. Not a crease or wrinkle appeared anywhere. Even her dull hair was styled meticulously. She’d dressed recently.

  His fists clenched. Was he wrong? Had she been in another man’s bed? He didn’t want to think of the possibility. She belonged to him.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, my lord,” she said in a strange, overly accented British voice.

  “Please sit.” He waited until she sat before selecting the chair next to her. “I hear you have been suffering from an illness.”

  Irritation flashed through her eyes, but she smiled regardless. “Yes, but I’m feeling fine at the moment.”

  “You should have notified me, then I would have been able to tend to you when you required it.”

  “There was no need. My illness comes and goes, so I can’t say for sure how I’ll feel from day to day.”

  “Well, you certainly appear fit at the moment. Your skin has obtained quite a bit more color than I remember from London.”

  Her hand rose to her cheek, but she quickly dropped it and shrugged. “When I’m feeling up to it, I spend my time in the garden.”

  Greyson silently applauded her quick thinking. If she’d been able to control her emotions, he never would have interpreted her words to be anything other than truth. However, she gave herself away. He was left with two possible explanations. And one test remained.

  “Take off your glasses,” he demanded.

  “Why, my lord?” Confusion rang in her voice.

  “I simply wish to see how your new skin tone matches your eyes.”

  Without waiting for her to comply, he pulled her glasses from her face. Peering into her mossy green eyes, he saw exactly what he’d expected to find. The same eyes he’d gazed into less than an hour ago. Lady Merrick, his wife, was Abigail, the maid, and his fire angel.

  Now that he knew her secret, he understood how Jonathan had made his outlandish conclusion. The only remaining questions were why his wife would hide her beautiful hair from the world, and more importantly, why she would choose to live as a maid.

  Thinking over his friend’s observations, he could not rule out the possibility of a lover, but that could have come after her decision to begin the charade. He needed more information, and he intended to gather it before confronting her with her duplicity.

  “Very nice,” he said, handing her glasses back to her.

  “Thank you, my lord.” Red snaked up her neck and colored her cheeks.

  “Besides your illness, have you been enjoying Merrick?”

  “Yes. It’s peaceful here. Although I miss my mother terribly, country life is preferable to London.”

  Her voice broke with the mention of her mother. It hurt him to hear her in such pain. Since he had no proof of her unfaithfulness, he saw no harm in inviting her parents, perhaps even her brother, for a visit. He made a note to himself to write to them later and invite them to Merrick in a few weeks.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Would you excuse me? I have a few duties I must attend to.”

  “Certainly.” She rose and made her way to the door, a pleased smile on her lips.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” he called out before she disappeared. He hoped she didn’t believe she could escape him so easily.

  Once she left he, too, exited the room and headed for his study. As he passed by Matthews, he called for his butler to join him. In his study, he settled into a chair and indicated Matthews do the same.

  The butler had been working at Merrick for as long as Greyson could remember. The man proved to be trustworthy and loyal and would part with any information necessary to appease his master.

  “I hope everything has been running smoothly in my absence.”

  “A manor this size isn’t without its share of problems, my lord,” Matthews answered cryptically. “But I will not burden you with the matters I intend to correct myself.”

  Normally Greyson would have demanded to hear details, but he felt too anxious to learn of his wife’s movements over the past weeks.

  “I’ll leave it to you to address those matters, but if you need my assistance, I’m available.” Greyson leaned back, adopting a mask of obligatory concern. “On another note, I wonder if you can tell me how my wife has been fairing during her time here. Mrs. Coushings indicated she has been unwell.”

  “Yes, my lord. Upon her arrival, she appeared fine, but soon after, she began taking to her rooms.”

  “How much time does she spend outside her chambers?”

  “Most mornings she comes down to breakfast and the same with dinner in the evenings. Luncheon is typically served in her room by Sandra or Abigail. Other than that, I can’t say I have seen her much.”

  That explained how she was able to continue this charade for so long. Sandra had helped her. Staring into Matthew’s face, he realized the butler had no idea Lady Merrick and Abigail were the same woman. Greyson had no intention of informing him otherwise, until it benefited him to do so, at least.

  “I believe I met Abigail briefly. Has she been recently hired?”

  “She arrived at Lady Merrick’s request, perhaps a week after the lady herself. I assumed she tended to her in London.”

  “Not that I’m aware of. What more can you tell me about Abigail?”

  “From what I can see, she’s a hard worker. Besides the few she has befriended, she tends to keep to herself. I personally have no complaints against her.”

  He could not imagine what she would be doing to be described as a hard worker, and for her to be categorized as thus surprised him. As a lady’s personal attendant, her duties should not stray from what the lady would assign to her. The thought of someone under his employ ordering his wife about as a servant made him ill.

  “Do her duties extend beyond Lady Merrick’s assignations?”

  “When the lady does not require any assistance, Abigail tends to the gardens with Joshua.”

  Greyson’s grip tightened on his chair. The lady of the house had no business prancing around the manor as a common servant. There was no need for her to force herself to toil out of doors. He needed to find out who put her up to it as much as he needed to discover her motivations.

  He tapped two fingers against his chin. For now he would play along with her little game, but soon he would have his answers. Failure wasn’t an option.

  Chapter 13

  “That is wrong.” Joshua’s exasperation came from behind her. “I told you the red ones go there. The yellow ones belong down here.” He pointed to indicate where he wanted them.

  Abigail looked down at the yellow flowers in her hand. She remembered him telling her, but she forgot. Her mind continually strayed back to her husband no matter how many times she tried to forget him.

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t remember how many times she had said that since she’d begun working for him.

  �
��You seem overly distracted today. Am I working you too hard?”

  “Not at all. I promise to pay more attention.”

  Joshua mumbled something under his breath as he went back down the row, no doubt trying to see what else she did wrong. He was a good man. She was grateful to have someone so understanding to work for. Assuming she would soon have to send her maid persona away, she hoped he would extend those feelings toward her absence.

  So far she had no reason to believe the situation would come to that, but her husband was acting strange. If his purpose of coming to Merrick consisted of discovering her secret, he was doing a poor job of it. In the past two days, she’d only seen him at breakfast and dinner. The remainder of the time he kept to himself either in the study, or she would occasionally see him wandering through the garden.

  Absently, she grabbed another pot of flowers and dropped it down in the hole.

  “That is yellow.”

  Lord Merrick’s voice made her jump. “My lord, I didn’t know you were out here. Is there something I can help you with?” She absently wiped at her dress, hoping he would go away.

  “Well, you could start by listening to my head gardener. If you leave that color there, it would throw off the styled beauty of the other flowers.”

  She shaded her eyes to look up at him. There was a light in his face she’d never seen before. His arms were crossed, and he leaned against a tree with an ease that was absent from him in London. Although she couldn’t fathom his attention to her, she wished she had an opportunity to know this man as opposed to the one she’d married.

  Studying the flowers, she couldn’t discern a pattern in the chaotic arrangement of colors. “Are you proficient in gardening?”

  “No. I was eavesdropping. Seeing as you were told twice, I would hate for you to lose your position by making the same mistake again.”

  “Thank you for your concern.” With a smile, she switched the yellow flowers for the red ones.

  As she planted a few more, taking care to follow instructions, Lord Merrick didn’t move from his spot against the tree. As the time stretched, she wanted to demand he tell her his purpose, but she knew it wasn’t the place of a servant to question him.

  “Do you enjoy gardening?”

  His query was quiet, but she heard his curiosity.

  “I find it pleasant when the weather cooperates. For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed the feeling of freedom gained from being outdoors.”

  “Would it not be more pleasant to enjoy the weather without having to work so hard?”

  She turned to him, astounded he would ask such a thing. He believed himself to be speaking to a servant, one who would not have the option of spending a day of freedom. His question was thoughtless and rude.

  “Excuse me, my lord, but not everyone has a choice.”

  “True, but I could give you one, just for today.” He kicked off from the tree and strode up to stand above her. “It’s been years since I have toured the garden and seeing as you are familiar with the grounds, I wonder if you would join me.”

  Abigail could not have been more stunned. His charming demeanor contradicted how he’d acted around her before now. He was smart and cunning, so she knew he had an ulterior motive. She wanted to discover his motivations, but every second she spent with him gave him another opportunity to uncover her identity.

  “I would love to, my lord, but Joshua—”

  “Would not dream of depriving me of your company.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. Did he mean to insinuate he wanted to spend time with her?

  “Very well.”

  Standing, she stripped off her soiled gloves and tossed them to the ground. As she dusted off her dress she wished she could be wearing something of finer quality for their outing, but quickly discarded the thought. He was after something, but it wasn’t her company he desired.

  As they strolled, he offered his arm, but she declined. Enough discomfort existed in the unusual situation without adding to it. She could not decide how she was supposed to act considering her lowered status. If anyone saw them, she didn’t want them to claim something untoward occurred.

  “I understand you arrived from London,” she commented, uneasy with the silence. “How long do you intend to remain here?”

  “My plans are not settled at this time. I heard you are from London as well.”

  Abigail tried to contain her nerves by taking in the sweet aroma of the flowers bathed in sunlight. When she and Sandra devised her story, they didn’t discuss all of the details. At the time they didn’t anticipate anyone delving into her past.

  “Yes. Before Lady Merrick made her journey to the country, she wrote to me requesting I join her.”

  “You know her well?”

  “I worked for the Duchess of Donetic for a time. Considering I currently searched for a position, I was delighted to make the journey.”

  “My wife was kind to make the offer.”

  “Yes.”

  There was something off about his words, but she couldn’t place what. Did he feel uncomfortable discussing his wife with her? The situation became more confusing by the second.

  “Would you care to take a seat?” He indicated the stone bench placed under the shrubbery. Obviously he didn’t wish for a proper tour. She had to find out what he wanted of her.

  Nodding, she took a seat and was shocked when he sat close beside her. Although the bench was narrow, she didn’t see a reason why his thigh should press so tightly up against hers. Her pulse raced as his warmth seeped into her bones. Why did he want her out here in this secluded part of the garden?

  “Your hair is a brilliant shade.”

  She winced. The sunlight always accentuated the red of her hair, making it appear almost on fire. In this light there was no mistaking her true color. What did he mean by such a comment?

  His breath tickled her ear, sending goose bumps down her body. He reached out and stroked an errant tendril of hair.

  She shot to her feet. “What is the meaning of this, my lord?”

  “I’m sorry.” He, too, stood. “I simply wanted to ask you some questions but became distracted by your beauty.”

  Pleasure shot though her, replacing her every thought. He thought she was beautiful. In all her life, she had never heard those words. Both her father and mother only spoke of the perils of being cursed with her red hair. Knowing her husband liked the shade gave her a feeling unlike anything she’d experienced before.

  “I forgive your distraction,” she said, unable to contain her smile. “And I would be happy to answer any of your questions.”

  He took her arm and continued their walk. The breeze was pleasant, adding another layer of delight to the day. Stealing a glance at her husband’s profile, the corners of his mouth trembled, giving her the impression he fought off a smile.

  As she thought over every moment she’d spent with him, she could not recall a single time when he’d smiled. It hurt her to know he’d denied himself the pleasure such a simple stretching of the lips caused. She determined to do whatever necessary to make him smile.

  “The estate is beautiful, is it not?” He took a deep breath as if savoring the scent of the flowers around them.

  “I haven’t set my eyes on much beyond the garden, but everything I have seen has been breathtaking.”

  “You must allow me to take you on an outing and show you more. Do you ride?”

  “No.”

  Bitterness invaded her mouth. Her father felt women should not be taught anything beyond how to run a house. If not for her mother’s secret lessons, she would not know how to read or write.

  “Then I’ll teach you. There is nothing like the feeling of freedom you get from galloping through the open fields.”

  “I would be delighted to learn.”

  Her face heated again. She could not believe Lord Merrick was flirting with her. During their brief courtship, he’d hardly expended the effort, as he’d had no need to encourage her interest.
She wondered why he did so now. Then it hit her. She felt like such a fool.

  He wasn’t flirting with her, his wife. He was flirting with another woman, a maid under his employ, no less. Suddenly, she wanted to hit him. Unfortunately, she could not without giving herself away. Instead, she decided to see how far he would take this.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Realizing she’d stopped walking, she gave him a flirtatious smile. After assuring him with a nod, she wrapped her arm tighter around his. Then she put her free hand on top.

  “I’m just looking forward to learning how to ride. When will you take me?”

  She turned to give him a coy look, but was caught by the intensity in his eyes. They held her and captivated her. His apparent hunger rocked her to her core. Every thought fled, leaving only him.

  As he cupped her cheek with his free hand, she closed her eyes. His breath washed over her face, making her stomach clench in anticipation. Far too long had she lived without his kiss, and she could not wait another second. Lifting her face, she pressed her lips to his.

  His hands encircled her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Everything in her relaxed from the fulfillment of having his mouth upon hers. His lips gently coaxed and teased, but she wanted more.

  Pressing her body more firmly against him, she threaded her fingers through his hair to silently communicate her desire. He groaned, giving her an opening. Refusing to wait for him, she deepened the kiss.

  She burned as his fingers began caressing her back. Her body demanded more, but she didn’t know what. She savored the shivers of pleasure streaming through her. She had never experienced such an intense longing, and she never wanted this to end.

  Moving her hands down, she caressed his shoulders and arms. She could feel the muscles and power below her fingertips. Having such a perfect specimen of a man in her arms brought her immense satisfaction.

  Dropping her hands to his chest, she felt his arms loosen their grip. Not ready for the moment to end, she curled her fingers into his shirt, demanding he remain close. Then she felt him graze the underside of her breast, and she jumped back.

 

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