Seduce Me at Sunrise (The Hathaways #2)(23)

"I'm not sure. I'm not at all experienced in these matters. But I think so."

"Do you like him?"

Win nodded without hesitation. "Quite a lot."

"Then I'm certain to like him as well. And I will be glad of the chance to thank him personally for what he has done."

They grinned at each other, basking in the delight of being reunited. But after a moment Win thought of Merripen, and her pulse began to throb with uncomfortable force, and nerves jumped everywhere in her body.

"How is he, Amelia?" she finally brought herself to whisper.

There was no need for Amelia to ask who "he" was. "Merripen has changed," she said cautiously, "nearly as much as you and Leo. Cam says what Merripen has accomplished with the estate is no less than astounding. It requires a broad array of skills to direct builders, craftsmen, and groundsmen, and also to repair the tenant farms. And Merripen has done it all. When necessary, he'll strip off his coat and lend his own back to a task. He's earned the respect of the workers-they never dare to question his authority."

"I'm not surprised, of course," Win said, while a bittersweet feeling came over her. "He has always been a very capable man. But when you say he has changed, what do you mean?"

"He has become rather… hard."

"Hard-hearted? Stubborn?"

"Yes, and remote. He seems to take no satisfaction in his success, nor does he exhibit any real pleasure in life. Oh, he has learned a great deal, and he wields authority effectively, and he dresses better to befit his new position. But oddly, he seems less civilized than ever. I think…" An uncomfortable pause. "Perhaps it may help him to see you again. You were always a good influence."

Win eased her hands away and glowered down at her own lap. "I doubt that. I doubt I have any influence on Merripen whatsoever. He has made his lack of interest very clear."

"Lack of interest?" Amelia repeated, and gave a strange little laugh. "No, Win, I wouldn't say that at all. Any mention of you earns his closest attention."

"One may judge a man's feelings by his actions." Win sighed and rubbed her weary eyes. "At first I was hurt by the way he ignored my letters. Then I was angry. Now I merely feel foolish."

"Why, dear?" Amelia asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.

For loving, and having that love tossed back in her face. For wasting an ocean's worth of tears on a big, hard-hearted brute.

And for still wanting to see him despite all that.

Win shook her head. The talk of Merripen had made her agitated and melancholy. "I'm weary after the long journey, Amelia," she said with a half smile. "Would you mind if I-"

"No, no, go at once," her sister said, drawing Win up from the settee and putting a protective arm around her. "Leo, do take Win to her room. You're both exhausted. We'll have time for talking tomorrow."

"Ah, that lovely tone of command," Leo reminisced. "I'd hoped that by now you would have rid her of the habit of barking out orders like a drill sergeant, Rohan."

"I enjoy all her habits," Rohan replied, smiling at his wife.

"What room is Merripen in?" Win whispered to Amelia.

"Third floor, number twenty-one," Amelia whispered back. "But you mustn't go tonight, dear."

"Of course." Win smiled at her. "The only thing I intend to do tonight is go to bed without delay."

Chapter Seven

Third floor, number twenty-one. Win pulled the hood of her cloak farther over her head, concealing her face as she walked along the quiet hallway.

She had to find Merripen, of course. She had come too far. She had crossed miles of earth, an ocean, and come to think of it, she had climbed the equivalent of a thousand ladders in the clinic gymnasium, all to reach him. Now that they were in the same building, she was hardly going to end her journey prematurely.

The hotel hallways were bracketed at each end with colonnaded light wells to admit the sun in the daytime hours. Win could hear strains of music from deep within the hotel. There must be a private party in the ballroom, or an event in the famous dining room. Harry Rutledge was called the hotelier to royalty, welcoming the famous, the powerful, and the fashionable to his establishment.

Glancing at the gilded numbers on each door, Win finally found 21. Her stomach plunged, and every muscle clenched with anxiety. She felt a light sweat break out on her forehead. Fumbling a little with her gloves, she managed to pull them off and tuck them into the pockets of her cloak.

A tremulous knock at the door with her knuckles. And she waited in frozen stillness, head downbent, hardly able to breathe for nerves. She gripped her arms around herself beneath the concealing cloak.

She was not certain how much time passed, only that it seemed an eternity before the door was unlocked and opened.

Before she could bring herself to look up, she heard Merripen's voice. She had forgotten how deep and dark it was, how it seemed to reach down to the center of her.

"I didn't send for a woman tonight."

That last word forestalled Win's reply.

"Tonight" implied that there had been other nights when he had indeed sent for a woman. And although Win was unworldly, she certainly understood what happened when a woman was sent for and received by a man at a hotel.