Heath lifted a brow in question and she flushed.
“It was from the past,” she explained quickly. “You were running toward me and in your hand, you held a bunch of wildflowers you had found on the outskirts of the Pebblebrook grounds. You were so happy then. It made me happy as well and I started running toward you too. But at the very last moment, everything changed and you were no longer smiling. You were only staring at me, the way you are now.”
“And that caused you to scream out?”
She resisted the urge to fidget with her fingers, nodding. “It was quite an alarming sight. The contrast was…terrifying.”
“I was not aware I scare you so,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“For some reason, I doubt that you did not know,” she said without thinking.
Heath’s eyebrow twitched. His lips were shadowed with a hint of a smile. “Believe me, Meredith. If I wanted you scared, you would not be able to sit before me like you are this moment.”
“What would I have to do to make you wish I was scared?” she asked, curiosity nipping at her. “Would I have to mention the stolen items again? Or ask you to stop doing such heinous acts?”
“Perhaps,” he said lightly. “But I doubt you truly want to know. And if you do not, then it may be best for you to stop asking about it.”
“I cannot help myself. When I think of the boy who had ran toward me with wildflowers in his hands, I want to see him again.”
Her honest words lay heavily in the air for a few moments while Heath simply regarded her. Then, he said, “Why? That boy no longer exists. You should stop clinging to the past.”
“It is difficult to stop when the present seems so bleak.” Heath maintained his silence. Meredith pushed on. “Do you remember what you said to me that day, when you showed me those flowers?”
“I do not,” he responded in a rather nonchalant manner. “Likely because it was not anything noteworthy.”
“Perhaps not to you. But when you came up to me, you said that you could not believe you had done such a thing. That you had never ventured so far away from where you should be before and that you were excited to try it again.” A smile itched at her lips. “I remember being so proud of myself for opening your eyes like that. And excited that we could go on adventures together.”
His eyes were cold, indifferent, even as he spoke. “You’ve always been rather adamant about dragging me along while you created chaos around the manor.”
“There was no fun in doing it alone.” Reminiscing like this was beginning to make her long for something she hadn’t wanted in quite some time. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she was happy at least, that she was talking so easily to him. “Are you busy right now? I know it is a bit chilly out but perhaps we could go for walk in the gardens.”
He frowned slightly. “Certainly, you do not wish to go searching for wildflowers, do you?”
“I do not,” she said with a shake of her head. “I merely want to enjoy the outdoors. And I do not want to be alone.”
Meredith knew Heath had heard the slight fear in her voice. She hadn’t meant to let him see that something was wrong. That dream, the one filled with blood, would not leave her mind.
“I am busy,” he said after a moment.
“Then, perhaps we could go for a walk later in the after—”
“I will not be home then,” he clipped. “You will have to busy yourself without me.”
Meredith sagged. She couldn’t attempt to hide her disappointment. “Ah, I see. Well, if you truly are busy, I will not take up any more of your time. Please, continue.”
She rose, curtsied, and turned to leave. She moved slowly, hoping Heath would call her back, but he didn’t. When she looked over her shoulder at him, he had already gone back to the papers laid out before him.
Meredith swallowed the bitter defeat and left the room, not noticing that Heath’s gaze had followed her out.
Chapter 12
Heath could not rid himself of that nagging guilt that had been following him all day. Ever since Meredith’s visit to his office, he could not stop thinking of her. And he could not get that blasted pitiful look she’d given him out of his head.
Odd emotions had sprung up inside him at the sight. He had nearly called out to her, to give in to her request to go for a walk, but Heath knew it was better for him not to. He had to prepare himself for the night that was to come and being around Meredith…well, being around her made him feel a twinge of shame at what he was going to do.
Heath shook his head, brushing off the thought. He stood in the center of his bedchamber, already dressed in his dark breeches and his large black greatcoat. It was dinnertime, which meant it was the best time for him to leave here. Meredith would be preoccupied and he could spend more time with the people he trusted. The people who, despite being so different, were just like him. People who did not judge him for the things he’d done, because they were people who had likely done much worse.
But, as he left his bedchamber, his heart began to race. I need to get myself under control!
It was easier said than done. The hallways were quite and yet he found himself creeping along. In his own manor, no less. Catching himself, Heath straightened his shoulders, annoyed at his actions.
Unsurprisingly, Francis stood at the base of the staircase leading to the foyer. He bowed deeply as Heath descended. “Will you be off tonight, Your Grace?” he asked.
“Yes,” Heath responded, not pausing.
Francis easily followed behind him. “Will you be returning tonight?”
Heath hesitated. He shouldn’t return tonight. He should leave Meredith in the hands of his servants and take some time away from her. Take some time to remember who he was, why he had become like this. Her presence here, however short a time it had been, was confusing him.
“Yes,” he said after a few moments. “Though, I do not know when.”
“Very well, then.” As they made it to the front doors, Francis bowed once again. “Be safe, Your Grace.”
Heath watched as his butler lifted his head. He was aware of Heath’s secret life, Heath knew. Though Heath had never breathed a word of it, his instincts told him that Francis understood more than he let on. Because of that, he turned to him. “Where is Lady Meredith right now?”
“She is currently having dinner in her bedchamber, Your Grace.”
“Her bedchamber?” Heath frowned. “Why is she not in the dining room? Is she ill?”
“I do not think so. Perhaps she does not want to sit alone in the dining room and prefers to eat alone where she feels more comfortable.”
“Ah.” That made sense. And it made his guilt double. Heath tried to shove it aside. “I leave her in your charge. Ensure that you keep your eyes on her.”
“Very well, Your Grace. I will have the footmen watch her. She shall not leave the manor.”
Heath breathed a silent sigh. He hadn’t noticed how unpleasant that possibility was until it had been said aloud. Not wanting Francis to note his reaction to his words, he nodded briskly and left.
He wrapped his coat around his body, stalking down the steps and through the driveway. The air was chilly with the coming winter, but his body felt unnaturally hot. He thought of Meredith sitting alone in her bedchamber while she dined and his feet felt heavier with every step he took. Heath couldn’t muster up the strength to shed this unnatural feeling, not until he spotted the lovely carriage parked a short distance away.
He jogged over to it, climbing into the front next to Phillip’s familiar frame. He caught his friend’s wide grin and lifted a brow. “What’s gotten you in such a good mood?” Heath asked.
“You know I am always in a good mood when we have a plan,” Phillip said, starting the horses forward. It was one of the carriages they had stolen a few months ago, one they had not sold yet.
“Perhaps I should be the one driving the carriage,” Heath said, keeping his hands tucked into his coat. “Or else you might unsettle the ho
rses.”
“These horses did not bat an eye when they were stolen right out from under their owners. Do you think they will care about my actions now?”
“You may never know,” Heath drawled. He could not get Meredith out of his head and it was putting him in a crabby mood. “You do not know how one’s emotions may change.”
Phillip looked at him with a deep frown. “What is wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?” Heath asked nonchalantly.
“Are you ill? If you are, you should not have come. You know that would only make you useless.”
Heath swung his neck around to look at his friend. “Were you not the one who told me that Victor would be upset if I did not come tonight?”
“Yes, but he would definitely be more upset if you botch tonight’s robbery with your head cold.” Phillip reached a hand out and Heath batted away before it could touch his forehead.
“Leave me be,” Heath told him. “I am not ill.”
“It is the woman, isn’t it?” Phillip asked in an irritated voice.
The spark of protectiveness that surged within him was enough to make Heath sigh. “You are thinking too hard on this,” he said calmly. “You are well aware that I get like this before we are to act. I do not understand why you act so surprised now.”
“I cannot help but think having that woman is a mistake. You should be rid of her. Or, if you cannot do it, then allow me—”
“Focus on what are to do tonight,” Heath cut in. “We can talk about that another time.”
To Heath’s relief, Phillip decided to leave it at that. Heath didn’t want to linger on what Phillip might have been suggesting just now. If he could help it, he wanted to take Meredith off his mind entirely, but something told him that it would not be so easy to do.
Thankfully, the ride to the area they would all be meeting was short, giving Heath another opportunity for distraction. They were along Piccadilly street, a dense fog hanging low. It was so difficult to see that Heath did not notice how many of them had come out today until he was standing right before them.
“Finally, you two are here,” Victor said, his tone light. His mouth moved around like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes glinted with eagerness, a sight that sparked the same feeling in Heath.
Yes, this is who I am. This is where I belong. In the shadows, covered by the fog, and waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting.
“Do not tell me you were waiting for us?” Phillip asked incredulously.
“I’m itching to relay the plan and you two decided to take your sweet time getting here.” But Victor didn’t sound upset. Phillip huffed a laugh, his lip tilting up into a smirk.
“We are here now,” Heath said, crossing his arms. “Now what will this cart be carrying?”
The other members of the gang gathered close, as if drawn by the excitement in Victor’s eyes. “Tea,” he declared.
A few of them groaned. But Phillip and Heath lifted their brows in surprise. Victor kept his eyes on Heath, as if he knew that he was more likely to understand his enthusiasm.
“Fruit from the Far East, I take it?” Heath asked.
Victor’s grin took over his entire face. “Headed toward Carter’s Teahouse. The shipment is large enough to make you all feel rich.”
The ones who groaned now murmured to each other in renewed interest. Victor wasn’t exaggerating. Carter’s Teahouse was a prominent tea business who had not only made a name of itself in London, but also did large exports to Scotland and Ireland. Heath even knew that it was run by the Earl of Destibury. If he lost this shipment, it might be enough to put him out of business.
Heath didn’t care. He felt that familiar rush come over him, the one that reveled in committing acts in the shadows. He found himself grinning, hardly caring about the money they would get from this, but from the fact that he was coming back to himself.
Victor doled out the instructions easily. It was rather simple. Half of them would wait on one side of the street, the other half on the next. One person would serve as a distraction while the others swooped in to get what they could. And if things went awry, they would use force. All they had to do was wait a while for the cart to arrive.
Heath was thrumming with that usual surge of energy up until the cart finally came into view. He heard it long before he saw it, it wheels dipping in and out of ruts along the uneven street. The fog made it difficult to see, but he doubted that was what made it so difficult to act. No, without warning, Meredith popped into his mind and he no longer felt that excitement.
The plan went off without a hitch. There were only a few men traveling with the cart and Phillip had taken a lot of pleasure in knocking one of them unconscious. Then, they’d all fled into the night with their stolen goods.
Heath could hardly focus. While they all rejoiced, and made plans to go down to their usual pub for drinking, he claimed he had other things to take care of and made his leave. He wondered absently why Phillip did not protest more when left, but he didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes.
Heath promised himself he would explain his actions later, but he didn’t know how. He could hardly explain it himself. He took the carriage back on his own and left it in the driveway. While before his steps had been slow and reluctant, now they were quick and eager. He made it to the front doors in seconds.
“Welcome back, Your Grace,” Francis greeted him by the door. Heath was not surprised by that. Despite the fact that it was well past midnight, Francis would not sleep if he had been told his master would be returning before day.
“You do not have to wait up for me,” Heath said mechanically, his eyes instantly going past the staircase. Is Meredith already asleep? “You may go to bed.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I wish you good dreams.”
Heath was already heading up the staircase by the time Francis finished his sentence. He tried to keep himself together, but the closer he drew to Meredith’s bedchamber, the more anxious he became. It didn’t matter to him that he was going to a lady’s bedchamber in the dead of night. He’d already done much worse things.
He knocked twice. There was no response. The doorknob turned easily in his hand.
Meredith was not in her bed. Heath scanned the room, then went to check the balcony, but she was not there either. He frowned as he left, closing the door behind him.
Where could she be? I should have asked Francis before I sent him off to bed.
Terribly curious now, he set off to find her. He thought of all the places she might be drawn to. She’d always read well, but the Meredith he once knew preferred to spend her time outdoors rather than in a library. He checked nonetheless and found it empty. As he passed by his office, he peeped inside to ensure she was not in there. It didn’t surprise him when she wasn’t.
Finally, he found her. He stood at the doors of the drawing room, frowning at the sight before him. Meredith was sitting by a single open window, in nothing but her nightdress. In her lap was a book, but it looked as if she had not gotten past the first page.
Heath approached her, holding his breath. She was utterly beautiful. Her golden hair framed her face, a few wisps drifting away from the window. Her long lashes cast shadows against her pink cheeks, her lips parted in a barely audible snore. She looked so at peace, so gentle, that Heath was loath to disturb her.
But he couldn’t ignore the fact that she wore only her nightdress. And sitting by this open window, he saw more than he should have. Her hair did not shield her chest, did not hide what the moon revealed through the fabric. The cold air only made her chest peak, poking through the thin fabric. His mouth went dry at the sight and it took all the strength within him to look away. It shocked him to feel so terrible for looking, when he knew no stronger man could have resisted.
Why is she sleeping in here by this window? Does she not notice how cold it is?
Heath reached forward, trying to keep his eyes on her face. He took her hand and realized that not only was she as
cold as ice, but her hand was trembling.
“Meredith,” he whispered. “You cannot sleep here.” She didn’t stir. He tugged lightly on her hand, patting her on the shoulder as well. “Meredith, you must wake before you fall ill.”
This time, she shifted. She leaned her head toward him, her eyes fluttering. “Blood…” she murmured.
Heath frowned. “What?”
She swallowed and went back to sleep. Heath stared at her face, watching as the frown that had appeared smoothed away. Without giving it a second thought, he placed his arm under her knees and lifted her into his arms.
It was enough to take his breath away. His chest caved in, the feel of her small body in his arms made his legs a little weak. Her soft, lovely scent, the tickle of her hair against his chin, the glorious view of her bust. Heath stared, because he couldn’t stop himself. And when she stirred, he jerked his gaze away, not wanting to be caught in the act.
Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 9
