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His Perfect Game

Page 22

by Jenn Langston

The late viscount’s decision now made sense to her. “But he still got his heir. He had you.”

  Greyson shook his head indulgently. “Neither one of them hesitated when they found the dirty boy on their doorstop with a note from my mother explaining my connection to the viscount. From the first moment they saw me, I was fully accepted into the family.”

  “They sound as if they were wonderful parents.”

  “They were.” He searched her face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, thanks to you and Joshua. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if the two of you had not arrived when you did.”

  “I know.”

  His gaze held her as if in an attempt to silently communicate with her. He wanted something, although he didn’t say so. While debating asking him, she worried he desired something she could not give. She loved him, but could not trust him not to hurt her.

  “Well, I’m sure you are busy. I’ll leave you alone.” Not waiting for him to protest, she stood and hurried to the door.

  “Abigail, wait.”

  She stopped, but didn’t turn to face him. When he didn’t respond, she peered over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  His face displayed his turmoil. He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it and turned from her. “Be careful.”

  Nodding, she exited the room. She forced herself to walk away, knowing staying would be much more difficult. Her feelings were too newly discovered to fight the power he had over her.

  She needed time to understand how to love him and not allow the emotion to run her life. Also, she had to decide if she could allow herself to love him as his wife.

  Pushing the plate aside, Greyson put his elbows on the kitchen table and dropped his head into his hands. It was late, and he was tired, but sleep evaded him. The day had been too confusing and unusual to allow him any rest.

  He felt relief knowing Algers no longer posed a threat, but he couldn’t stop the memories of those moments when his wife had been held with a pistol pointed at her head. Algers had come too close.

  Before the magistrate dragged him off, Greyson managed to obtain a small amount of revenge. After Algers regained consciousness Greyson challenged him to a fist fight. Without a weapon, the man proved useless, and Greyson received great satisfaction each time his fist made contact with the thief’s face.

  Running his hands through his hair, he let his head fall as his throat closed. Algers had been under his employ and working daily beside Abigail. He could not bring himself to imagine the horror had the man discovered her secret sooner. He hated himself for sending her out here unprotected.

  “My lord? What are you doing here?”

  Greyson jumped up and whipped around upon hearing his wife. She wore a dressing gown and an ugly hat that covered her beautiful hair. Combined with her glasses, he knew Lady Merrick stood before him, not Abigail. He suppressed his disappointment.

  “I missed dinner, so I came looking for a snack. What about you?”

  “The same.”

  She stood in the doorway, neither making a move to stay or go. Her eyes confessed her uncertainty, reminding him of how eager she’d been to escape his presence earlier. He didn’t understand her. First she attacked him with a soul-shattering kiss, then she could not bear to be around him.

  “Sit down. I have some bread and jam here.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  She came forward and hesitantly sat on the chair furthest away from him as he resumed his seat. Shaking his head, he slid the plate and jar toward her. She made no move to take the offerings. Exasperation assaulted him, and he almost demanded to know why she treated him differently based on what she wore.

  “Are you happy here?” he asked instead.

  She watched him as if searching for a hidden meaning. “Yes.”

  “Were you happier when I was in London?”

  He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he could not help himself. Although Abigail had freely teased and flirted with him, his wife pushed him away. Her actions were deliberate. She was trying to tell him something. He just didn’t know what.

  “If you are trying to determine if you should stay or go, don’t base your decision on me.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” He wished for more light, so he could see her face. Instead he sat perfectly still, anxious for her response.

  “Are you happy here?” She copied his earlier question.

  “At times,” Greyson answered truthfully.

  She stood and walked over to him. When he looked up into her eyes, he saw compassion, but he also noticed her confusion. Although he understood, he didn’t know how to alleviate it. Their relationship was too complicated. The only way to change things would be to admit knowledge of her daily work as a servant. However, he had no way to know how she would react to that.

  When she sat beside him, his body sizzled at her nearness. The burning made keeping motionless difficult. He wanted to take her into his arms and carry her to his bed. Then once he had her there, he would not let her leave.

  “You worry too much about the thoughts of others. It does not matter what they think. You need to do what is right for you.”

  Looking into her sweet, innocent eyes made him really wonder what was right for him. He wanted his wife, but were his advances right for her? He couldn’t answer that question, but he knew pursuing her maid wasn’t right. She believed him to be interested in another woman.

  He would have to be strong and resist her siren’s call unless she presented herself as his wife. Dropping his gaze to her lips, he wondered how she would react if he kissed her. This morning she’d initiated everything. Would she be agreeable now?

  As he watched, those wondrous lips parted, as if waiting for his mouth to touch them. His breathing came out too quickly, and when her tongue emerged to stroke the delicate pink flesh, he could hold himself back no longer.

  Not wishing to scare her away, he slowly moved toward her until she closed the distance between them. Heat blasted through him as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Needing more contact, he slid his hands up her arms to caress her back.

  She was so giving and so unlike the woman who’d entered the room. If he could receive such a reaction from her as his wife, it only enforced his decision to stop seeing her as a maid. Then he would no longer have two women to worry about.

  Sliding his hand forward, he touched the underside of her breast. When she didn’t pull away, he lightly cupped the soft flesh in his palm. She jumped, but his other arm held her firm. As he gently squeezed the sensitive peak between his fingers, she melted against him.

  Her hands clenched and tugged on the fabric of his dressing gown. As he only wore trousers below the garment, it would only take a few seconds to sink himself into her.

  With his body prepared and straining forward, he pulled her to sit in his lap. She willingly sat across him, giving his hand better access to her. Blood pumped wildly in his ears as he touched the bare skin on her neck, slowly trailing his fingers under the robe.

  “Wait, my lord,” she rasped as her hand caught his. “We should not be doing this.”

  “I see no reason why not.” His words came out harsher than he intended due to his pent-up frustration.

  “You promised.”

  The accusation felt like a slap in the face. Immediately he dropped his hands, and she scampered off of him. She stood before him watching as a mouse watches a ravenous lion. It wasn’t acceptable. She was his wife.

  “The agreement was to last until I wanted heirs.” Greyson stood, not caring as his dressing gown fell open. “I want them now. You can expect me to come to you tomorrow night.”

  He didn’t wait for her reaction, as he couldn’t bear to see her revulsion. Although he felt like a villain, he knew this was necessary in order to see the end of this charade.

  Whether she wanted him or not, tomorrow night he would go to her. He would not leave until she was completely satisfied. Through his ignorance, he’d ruined her f
irst experience. He intended to make it up to her.

  Chapter 16

  “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Abigail stared at her husband in shock, wondering why he kept saying things that shocked her and sent dread crawling up her spine.

  “I said your father and mother have accepted my invitation to spend some time here with us. They will arrive in less than a week.”

  Hearing the news again didn’t dull her surprise or dismay. On one hand, she felt anxious to see her mother and ensure she was all right, but the news also meant her father would be here. The very thought made her heart accelerate.

  “I see.”

  Judging by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, he’d expected a better reaction from her. However, this knowledge, combined with his declaration last night, had left her in a bit of a wreck emotionally.

  Staring down at her breakfast, she knew she would not be able to eat another bite. After a night of no sleep, she’d had enough trouble managing herself without the impending visit adding to it.

  “I was under the impression you missed your mother. If I recall correctly, you attempted to secure my permission to allow her to live here.”

  “I do miss her, and I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness.”

  Greyson leaned back in his chair and studied her with his cold, emotionless eyes. She resisted the urge to squirm. If he meant to unnerve her, she would not allow him to see how well his plan worked. When she could no longer stand the battle of wills, she turned away. She would give anything to know what ran through his mind right now.

  “Are you feeling well today? We could enjoy a ride together if you are up to it.”

  Abigail felt proud that his assumption she could ride was correct. However, she didn’t believe she was mentally able to spend the day with him. She had too much to think about. Today would be her only opportunity to determine what course of action she wanted to take regarding both her husband and her father.

  However, the hope she saw flash across his face broke her defenses. She knew he had an interest in her as a maid, and to find out he accepted her like this also brought her pleasure. Resisting him wasn’t easy.

  “I would like that.”

  The intensity left his face as he softened. “Meet me at the stables after lunch.”

  She nodded then watched as he left the room. Although she loved him, she didn’t understand him at all. She made her way to Sandra’s quarters, taking care not to be noticed.

  Considering she was to meet her husband in a few hours, she knew it would be easier to remain dressed as Lady Merrick. Part of her hoped Greyson would seek her out, and she wanted to be accessible if that was the case. In addition, as a maid, she enjoyed more freedom as her every move wasn’t under scrutiny.

  When she emerged from the room, she had intended to go outside, but Mrs. Coushings spotted her. Abigail was directed to the kitchen for a brief staff meeting. Based on the housekeeper’s annoyance, they had been waiting for her.

  Matthews clapped to get everyone’s attention as soon as he made eye contact with the housekeeper.

  “Now, as some of you know, the master is hosting a small party,” Mrs. Coushings began. “The significance of this event isn’t only due to the fact that it’s the first one held by the viscount, but also by the caliber of the invited guests. We will have the Duke and Duchess of Donetic staying with us for a month.”

  Abigail heard the excited murmurs, but ignored them. She understood their reaction, but she also knew her father didn’t deserve their praise. The people standing in this room were far better than him.

  “When will they arrive?” Sandra asked.

  “In a few days. Before then, I expect everyone to expend every effort to make the manor shine. I will not have it said the viscount does not provide exceptional accommodations.”

  Nods of agreement and affirmations went around the room. Abigail remained still, not responding in any way.

  “Those of you who don’t normally work in the house should see me or Matthews when you have a free moment. Since we keep a modest staff, we must ban together in order to give back to Lord Merrick, who deserves so much more.”

  As the group disbanded to tend to their duties, Abigail believed it to have been the most unusual meeting she had ever been a part of. She wondered if the staff at her father’s house held similar meetings. The topic certainly would have been significantly different.

  “Abigail,” Mrs. Coushings called from behind her. “Can I have a word with you?”

  “Of course.”

  Abigail turned and pasted on a smile. The woman had not been unkind, but she had not been very accommodating either.

  “I’m really going to need you this week. Joshua has managed to work in the garden by himself for many years now and as it’s secondary to the house, I ask that you help me instead.”

  “I’ll do my part when Lady Merrick does not require assistance.” Abigail worked to hide her surprise.

  The request wasn’t unusual from the housekeeper to a maid. Truthfully her shock came from her terror to take on responsibilities she knew nothing of. Working in the house went against everything she was raised to believe, but so had tending to the garden. She had confidence that she would be able to handle any task assigned to her.

  “Good. Follow me.”

  Mrs. Coushings led her down the hall to the portrait gallery. A room Abigail had avoided since living here. The numerous people pictured meant nothing to her, so she had no emotional connection to the room. With the exception of one portrait.

  Stopping in front of her husband’s likeness, Abigail felt a rush of emotions different from the last time she gazed into the picture’s steely grey eyes. Then, she’d felt the depiction was of an austere, formidable man who could freeze you with one look. However, now she could see so much more to him.

  The mask he wore was more evident in the picture than on the man himself. This clearly displayed the sight he presented to the world in order to protect himself. Feeling overcome with sadness for him, she turned her back from the sight and moved to Mrs. Coushings’ side.

  “He is a handsome man, isn’t he?” The housekeeper’s raised brow told Abigail she noticed her preoccupation.

  “Yes.” Abigail felt her blush creeping up her neck and wished she had not forgotten she had an audience.

  “It’s a shame Lady Merrick is a sickly woman. He deserves happiness.” With that, she walked further in the room and began detailing what she expected Abigail to do.

  Her comment didn’t make sense. Abigail could not be sure if the housekeeper hoped to dissuade her interest or push her toward him. Regardless, Lord Merrick did deserve happiness. The problem being she didn’t know if she could give it to him. The thought of confessing her duplicity terrified her, but she didn’t see any other way to allow him to get closer without discovering the truth.

  She needed to find another way to provide him with happiness. Today at their ride, she would take every opportunity to discover a solution. She would be unable to rest until her husband found happiness, and her secret remained safe.

  Greyson reined in his stallion at a spot close to the bank but far enough away from the house. He needed private time with his wife, and he hoped getting her away from Merrick would relax her and make her comfortable enough to act like herself.

  “This is beautiful,” she breathed, slowing her mare beside him.

  The exhilarating ride brought pink to her cheeks and a brightness to her eyes. He longed to take her into his arms and share the moment with her, but he knew he had to resist.

  “Besides the boathouse, this was one of my favorite spots as a boy.”

  “I can see why.”

  He dismounted and went over to help her down. Purposefully standing too close, he grabbed her around the waist and allowed her to slide down his body. The contact caused his pulse to race, making it difficult to release her and step back. Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to comply and see to the horses.

&n
bsp; Once the reins were secured to a tree, he turned and froze. His wife bent to dip her fingers in the water, displaying her bottom nicely. He stood rooted to the spot as his body grew hard with hunger. When she sat back and glanced over her shoulder at him, he snapped back to life and willed himself to move.

  “You like the water?” He felt tongue-tied and witless. As if he were a schoolboy holding his first private conversation with a woman.

  “Yes. It feels wonderful.” Her sweet smile indicated she had no idea of the turmoil he experienced at that moment.

  Dropping to his knees beside her, he sat, gazing out over the water. He felt her eyes on him, but refused to turn. If he did, he would be unable to conceal his desire. The depth of his current feelings would no doubt scare her.

  “I know I didn’t say it earlier, but thank you for inviting my mother for a visit. I’m happy for the opportunity to see her again.”

  The reminder of their houseguests brought back memories of her reaction this morning. He expected her to be pleased, which is why he invited them to Merrick. Even now, her only thoughts were for her mother. He wondered what had occurred between her and the duke for her fondness to seem nonexistent.

  “I’m pleased you feel that way.” Greyson cleared his throat, and studied her to gauge her reaction. “I received word of another addition to our party.”

  “Who?” Her brows knitted in confusion. She clearly had no idea who he would invite. Greyson hoped her affinity for her brother surpassed that of her father.

  “The Marquis of Hauney also accepted my invitation. He will arrive the same day as your parents.”

  “Braiden is coming?” Her eyes sparkled.

  Greyson nodded, pleased he’d managed to get her preference right this time. Without warning, she threw her arms around him, knocking him backward as her lips met his. Her exuberance always amazed and excited him. Falling back against the hard ground didn’t affect him as he was too focused on the soft, warm woman.

  Her legs fell on either side of him as her skirt hiked up further. Gripping her bare thighs, he groaned. This woman would be his downfall. Moving his hands upward, he secured them around her waist, then rolled over to be on top. She thrust her hands in his hair as he flattened himself tightly against her.

 

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