“The Lady has spoken, Phillip,” Victor said.
“But—”
“Say no more.” Victor’s voice was laced with just the right amount of steel to make Phillip back off. He slinked back towards the crowd.
Heath looked down at Meredith to find that she was staring up at him. Her eyes had cleared of those tears and those familiar seas of brown were the same as he remembered them. Perhaps one of the very few things that was the same about her.
“Let us go then,” he said to her, stepping to the side. She nodded and he turned and made his way through the group. He felt her walking very close to him.
As Heath made it out of the building, he wondered if this was as good an idea as he’d thought.
Chapter 5
This might be the most idiotic decision I’ve ever met in my entire life.
Meredith could not stop cursing herself over and over again for what she’d said back there. It had been too foolish. To think that it was so difficult for her to speak to others and when she did so, that was what came out of her mouth.
But what do they expect me to say when I’m surrounded by a group of ruthless men who want my blood? How could I have said no?
She had the strength to lie to them once, but that had diminished the moment she laid eyes on the His Grace, Heath Fillion, the Duke of Castlemore. Meredith thought for moment that she was in a dream. That seemed like the only valid explanation for why the Duke was standing there amongst those hoodlums. Dressed like them too.
Slowly, her gaze drifter over to him. He sat at the other end of the carriage they’d stolen, the furthest point from her, his eyes out the window. He looked so…different. The last time she’d seen him, he had been a teenager, with a sparkle in his eyes and a happy smile. She remembered that he was always easy to laugh. She’d fancied herself the funniest girl in England, just because he would laugh at nearly everything she said.
This man looked nothing like that boy. This man was all sharp angles, hardness, and a quiet strength that belied a past she didn’t want to know about. He had grown so much, but she supposed it had been nearly ten years since she’d seen him last. It made sense that he looked different, but the stark change was too much for her to come to terms to, putting her on edge.
But it truly was him. He had the same black hair, the color of the night’s sky without stars. He had the same ocean blue eyes, ones that had seemed as black as night when she’s spoken to him in the building. Save for his now very muscular build and his stronger looking features, he was physically the same.
“Stop looking at me.”
His voice was deeper now than it had been before and Meredith’s heart leapt with fright. She quickly averted her eyes.
There was silence, filled only with the loud beating of her heart. Meredith saw nothing outside as she gazed out the window.
“You got off easily, you know,” he said suddenly. Meredith tensed. She didn’t dare to look at him. “Had I not been there, there is no telling what they might have done.”
She didn’t believe that. He was clearly close to them, respected in that circle considering only one person had protested his suggestion. She doubted that he didn’t know what they might have done. The fact that he was refraining from saying so made her sigh softly in relief.
“Do not think you are free just yet though,” he continued. “I am only keeping you around so I can keep an eye on you.”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He grunted. “For what?”
She didn’t let his standoffish tone ruffle her. Or, she tried. “For allowing me to stay with you. You could have easily let them do what they wished.”
“At least you admitted that you’d overheard them talking. You are not the best liar.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t as difficult, she realized, to talk to him. This man, who was so different from the boy she knew.
He grunted again and Meredith didn’t know how to interpret it. Another round of silence descended upon them, one that Meredith was acutely aware of.
Heath was the one who broke it again. “I’m surprised, Meredith. You don’t seem worried.” She looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat when she saw his heated gaze. “I thought you would be more wary of going off with a stranger and leaving your family behind.”
She should be wary. She knew this was the most foolish thing she could do. The ton, if they were to ever catch wind of this, would rip her to shreds. They would do so much more than they’d ever done tonight.
That was what kept her going, wanting to escape the life that had reduced her to a crying mess running through the streets. She wanted to step away from all that had happened, from the society that had branded her a killer. She promised herself she wouldn’t care what they thought again.
“You aren’t a stranger,” she said after a while.
Heath looked at her then. Looked at her the way he had when they’d been in the building. He stared, clearly trying to figure her out. Meredith felt a rush of heat skitter across her skin.
“I am,” he told her. “Do not think you know me simply because we were childhood friends.”
“You remember,” she gasped. His eyes sharpened, his brows furrowing but she didn’t look away. “You remember that we were friends. I thought you hadn’t recognized me.”
He rolled his eye derisively. “You may not be the same Lady Meredith Cluett that I remember but you certainly look like her. I don’t forget faces easily.”
He said that last bit with a hard edge, making slivers of fear course through her. Again, she wondered if coming with him to his castle was such a good idea, but it was too late. They were already pulling into the driveway.
“It has been almost ten years,” she pointed out.
He raked his gaze down the length of her. She felt exposed all of a sudden, and wanted to curl in on herself. She resisted the urge. “Yes. And it’s clear a lot has changed in that time.”
With that said, he left the carriage. She sat there for a few moments, her mind whizzing as she waited for the footmen to open her door. They came a little late, flustered, unable to mask their surprise at the sight of her. She ignored the discomfort she felt at being touched and allowed them to help her to descend from the carriage..
Heath was already halfway up the steps by the time her feet touched the ground. Meredith quickly hurried up to him. No matter how scary he’d become, he was the only thing she knew in his large and unrecognizable world. If he left her behind, she would be forced to fend for herself.
When she slipped into the manor, she came to a quick halt the moment she saw him standing there, his arms folded, facing her. Next to him was a middle-aged man, his butler. He bowed deeply.
“Welcome, My Lady.”
“Francis, this is Lady Meredith,” Heath said gruffly. “Meredith, Francis.”
She lowered her head instantly. In the corner of her eye, she saw maids peeking out at her, whispering. Her anxiousness grew in leaps.
“Francis will be taking care of everything,” Heath said. He was already walking away. “Do not bother me unless you have to.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Francis said, watching Heath retreat. Then he faced Meredith. His face was rather broad, his hair dark despite his obvious age. “Allow me to escort you to your bedchambers, My Lady.”
She nodded jerkily, glancing in the direction Heath had gone. Without him, she felt like she was lost at sea, drifting around aimlessly without an anchor.
Francis gestured kindly with his hand and Meredith unstuck her feet from the floor. She tried her best to ignore the maids who were not doing a good job of keeping their curiosity to themselves. They stopped suddenly and she had a feeling Francis had something to do with it.
Francis walked slightly ahead of her, reminding her a lot of her own butler, Helman. She stared at the carpet before her as she followed him, the silence allowing the weight of her decision to settle squarely on her shoulders. It was getting harder an
d harder to breathe.
Thankfully, the trip to the bedchamber she would be sleeping in was shorter than she’d expected. It wasn’t her bedchamber. Her bedchamber was in Pebblebrook Manor. But, for now, she didn’t belong there.
“I will have one of the maids draw a bath for you, My Lady,” Francis said once they were inside.
She nodded, not looking back at him.
She heard him turn to leave. She tensed again when he faced her and said, “It may not be my place to say, Lady Meredith, but you seem to be quite fatigued. I can see the shadows under your eyes. It seems as if you had had a long night and I would you lie down for a bit until the bath is fully drawn and then heading straight to bed.”
That was the best idea she’d heard all night. “Thank you, Francis.” She glanced up at him, then away.
Francis bowed. “It is a pleasure, My Lady.”
This time, he truly did leave. Meredith ran her gaze throughout the room, relieved to see that it was not much different from hers. There was even a balcony, which was the first place she headed to.
This balcony did not overlook the gardens. It faced the stables instead, and the wide expanse of land sitting next to it. It wasn’t quite the sight she was used to, but Meredith didn’t mind. The very last thing she wanted was to be reminded of her mother.
She let loose a long breath, the weight of everything that had happened settling onto her shoulders. It had been a long night, a traumatic one. One that she didn’t think sleep would fix.
Heath’s deep blue eyes drifted into her mind and she let out an involuntary shudder. Those eyes…she didn’t remember them being so intense, so striking. That flurry of butterflies that went through her, even now, had her wrapping her arms around herself, alarmed. She might have lost herself in those eyes had she not remembered that he wasn’t the same person she used to know.
But it comforted her a little to know that she would not be burdened completely by the thought of what had happened at the ball. No, after seeing Heath again after such a long time, she had a feeling that he would be the thing taking up most of her thoughts.
Chapter 6
Sunlight filtered through the slits in the curtains, resting directly on Heath’s eyes. For a few moments, irritation surged within him and he growled at no one, annoyed that he had been pulled from his sleep so quickly. But when he opened his eyes, he remembered the happenings of the night before. A seemingly regular day had dissolved into one of confusion and surprise, and he had brought home the lady from his past.
She was sleeping somewhere in this manor, Lady Meredith Cluett. Heath rolled onto his back, his sheets barely covering his private regions. He rested a hand on his chest, recalling all that had occurred the night before and feeling a twinge of regret.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to bring her into my home. Now that I think of it, it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.
It would have been a very simple ordeal to leave her to the mercy of the members of his gang. There were a few among them who might have been kind enough to treat her like a human, while there were others who would have ruthlessly slit her throat. The latter would have been the best route to take, to make sure she said nothing. But there he’d gone, rushing in as if he were her knight in shining armor.
Heath hoped she didn’t view him in that light. It would certainly complicate things.
Heaving a great sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and, since he didn’t care for the use of a valet, dressed himself. He left his bedchamber thinking on the things he had to do for the day, versus the things he wanted to do. He wanted to leave his place, go down to the hideout, and be with his friends. Even if there was nothing for them to do, it would be world’s better than staying cooped up in this large manor.
But staying cooped up was his fate for today, because the work he’d been putting aside had to be tended to. Otherwise, he would lose all he had.
“Your Grace.” Francis drifted in from nowhere. “Will you be having breakfast in your study?”
“Don’t I normally?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I shall have it prepared and brought to you right away.”
Heath barely looked at him, but he could sense Francis’ presence. The older man had been working as the butler at Castlemore Manor since Heath was a child and had grown used to Heath’s standoffish manner. And there was little that escaped his eyes.
“Where is Lady Meredith?” Heath asked.
“She is in the drawing room, Your Grace,” Francis answered easily, as if he had been expecting the question even though that couldn’t be possible.
Heath began descending the staircase that would lead to his office. “She’s certainly made herself comfortable,” he murmured, half to himself.
“On the contrary, Your Grace,” Francis said. “It seems she is very agitated. I had suggested that she have breakfast and tea to help calm her nerves, and then perhaps a stroll through the gardens would help. I am unsure, however, as to whether it worked.”
“There is no need to update me on matters regarding her, Francis. Focus on your actual duties.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Francis bowed smoothly and veered down a hallway without missing a step. Heath’s steps slowed to a stop. He watched the butler walk away, a little unnerved at how easily he took things in stride.
Heath had always had an inkling that Francis knew more about his double life than he was letting on, but the butler had never mentioned it before. If Heath didn’t say something first, he doubted he ever would.
As Francis grew further away, Heath’s mind turned to Meredith. Without thinking, he swiveled on his heel and began making his way to the drawing room. He didn’t give it any thought, other than the fact that he would be able to have his breakfast there.
When he arrived at the drawing room, he thought it was empty at first. He paused at the door, eyes scanning the room around him until he spotted a glimpse of golden hair hidden behind a bookshelf. He drew nearer to see that it was indeed Lady Meredith, sitting in the very corner of the drawing room, facing the edge of a window. She didn’t see him approach, her eyes on the cup of tea she held in her hands.
“What are you doing in the corner?” he asked.
Lady Meredith jumped. Tea splashed all over the maid’s dress she had been given when she looked up at him, he saw that her face had gone as red as tomato. Something akin to mirth trickled throughout him, but he only folded his arms and lifted a brow.
That movement seemed to frighten her even more and she quickly got to her feet, her hands trembling so much that the cup clicked incessantly against the saucer. “Your Grace!” she gasped.
“Heath,” he stated. His amusement grew. She was quite a sight, her brown eyes as wide as the saucer in her hand, the front of her cream-colored dress stained slightly brown. “You needn’t call me by my title. We knew each other in the past, after all.”
“H-Heath.” She swallowed visibly, resting her teacup and saucer on a small end table nearby. “I didn’t hear you come in. I…”
“I must have frightened you.” He wasn’t about to apologize for it. How lost in thought had she been to not hear his loud footsteps approaching? “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you sitting in the corner of the room drinking your tea?”
“I…” Her eyes slid away. More and more, Heath couldn’t believe that this was the same girl who would cajole him into trying to climb to the roof of Pebblebrook Manor. “I like being in small spaces. It helps to calm me. I thought it would be a—” She swallowed and tried again, “A nice spot to have my tea.”
“Very odd,” he said truthfully. Everything about her was odd, odd enough to keep him there even though he’d only come here in the first place to satisfy his curiosity.
He looked over at the round table by the tall window to the left of the drawing room. The table was covered in cakes, bread, jam, and oranges. He looked back at Meredith, whose eyes darted down when he returned is attention to her.
“If that is
what you prefer to do, then I will not stop you,” he said finally, knowing she was waiting for him to respond. “Though, you might want to change into something else.”
Her fingers curled around the sides of her dress, her cheeks turning even redder. It was a sight that baffled Heath more than he should have.
Heath tore his gaze away. He made his way to the table and sat, pouring himself some tea. He cast aside his plans to go to his office to eat, keeping his eye on Meredith as she inched out of her corner. For some reason, he didn’t want to leave.
She came closer, tentative. He paid her no mind, but watched in his peripherals. She was an enigma and the more time he spent around her, the more he wondered what could have caused her to become like this.
Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 4
