Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)(92)

“I’ll take care of him,” she said firmly. There was no girlish lilt in her voice now, only a woman’s resolve. Harold and Laurence stood behind her, rolling up their sleeves. “We’ll take him up to one of the guest rooms,” she said.

Meredith nodded numbly. “I’ll clean up down here.”

After chasing everyone from the room, she latched the door. Alone, she swept up every sliver of broken glass and each piece of splintered wood. She mopped the blood from the countertop and scoured the flagstones with sand. She righted the remaining furniture and returned the brass candlestick to its place on the mantel.

When noontime came, she went upstairs to wash and change her frock, and then she prepared a simple family meal. Bread, cheese, sausages. She called Father and Darryl in from the horse barn. Mr. Bellamy’s team and carriage were still there, but there was no sign of the gentleman. Or Rhys.

After the men had taken their meal, Meredith prepared a tray and carried it upstairs.

“I’ve brought up some tea and broth,” she said, pushing the door open with her foot. “And solid food for you, Cora.”

Gideon was supine on the bed, still wearing his boots and trousers, but stripped to the waist. Cora sat in a chair beside him, holding a poultice to one side of his face.

“He’s sleeping,” she said. “I dosed him with laudanum for the pain.”

Meredith set the tray on a nearby table. Then she crossed to stand over Cora’s shoulder and reached to lift the poultice from his face. Lord. The man’s jaw, cheek, and brow were all one giant, swollen bruise. He wouldn’t be seeing daylight through that eye for a week.

“Well, Gideon,” she said quietly, even though she knew he couldn’t hear, “you deserved that.”

“It wasn’t how you’re thinking,” Cora said. She smoothed the hair from Gideon’s brow. “The two of us, last night.”

“Even so. He’s had this coming to him.” Ever since that night Rhys stumbled in from the moor with a gash in his scalp.

Meredith took her turn watching over the wounded man while Cora had a rest, then prepared an evening meal. And after all was swept and washed and put away, she sat down at her scratched and dented bar and poured herself a generous glass of wine. Then a second. A folded newspaper lay on the counter. She left it untouched. It couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know today.

Near midnight, there came a knock at her bedchamber door. Meredith gathered a shawl about her shoulders, went to the door, and slid back the latch to open it a crack.

Rhys was there, dressed in a clean shirt and breeches. The small cuts on his brow had been tended and cleaned. “I leave at dawn,” he said.

She could only blink at him.

“It’s the murderer. Bellamy thinks he’s found the man who was with Leo the night he was attacked. Name of Faraday. Been hiding out in Cornwall. Bellamy’s speaking with Cora now. She’ll come along to confirm his identity.”

“Why do you need to go?”

His eyebrow quirked. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m the muscle. In case of reluctance, I’m to pound the truth out of him. Then mete out justice, if it’s warranted.”

“I see.”

“Yes. You see. As did everyone else, this morning. It’s what I do.” Self-loathing flickered in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “What about Myles? Will he—”

“He’ll live. He’s hurting, but he’ll live.”

His face stayed grim, but the corners of his mouth softened with relief.

She added, “He deserved it, for what he did to Cora.”

At the mention of the girl, Rhys winced again. “She was under my protection. I should never have left her alone.” He cleared his throat and gave himself a little shake. “I’ve unloaded the goods from Bath, packed up my things from the cottage. And I’ve brought back the hounds.”

Her gaze fell. Two pairs of watery brown eyes looked up at her mournfully. A low whimper sounded from a canine throat.

“They’ll miss you,” she said.

“I’ll miss them.”

She opened the door wide, and the dogs rushed through, tumbling over one another in their race to the hearth. Even once the hounds settled, she kept the door open in invitation.

She allowed her shawl to slip from one shoulder. “It’s hours yet before dawn.” Shameless, she knew. But damn it, what use was pride? If he was leaving forever, she wanted one last night.

“Don’t.” His jaw tensed. “Don’t invite me in. Because it’s not in me to refuse, and I’d only be using you. The same way I used Myles this morning. I am angry as hell, and you’d be just another nameless person to pound. I’d work you hard and fast, until I forget who you are. Who I am.” He swallowed hard. “I’d be using you.”

Good Lord. If he was trying to discourage her, he was going about it all wrong. Meredith clenched her legs together as damp heat surged between her thighs. She’d never been so aroused, so quickly. What he described was exactly what she craved. One last hard, fast, unforgettable time.

Looking him bravely in the eye, she opened the door wider still. “We’d be using each other.”

That was all it took.

Before she could even catch her breath, he’d moved through the doorway, caught her in his arms, and slammed the door shut, flattening her against it. She was pinned between the hard door of oak at her back and the harder wall of hot muscle before her, and she’d never felt more completely, deliciously trapped.