Page 59 of The Beauty and the Boxer
Good lord, what was wrong withher?
“Why should we be grateful to be here ifwe’re not wanted here? It’s asinine!”
“Listen here—”
“Simon, Simon,” Sarah said, her hand comingup to her husband’s chest. Instantly, Simon stopped speaking andlooked at her. “I’d like to retire now. If we are to leave firstthing in the morning, we should get some rest.”
“Oh, goodness,” Meredith began, guiltwashing over her. “Are we leaving because of me?”
“It’s best if we leave before everyoneelse,” Sarah explained, her hand still on Simon’s chest as if shewere holding him back. “So that your presence is missed rather thanoversaturating everyone’s senses. Leave them wishing for more.”
“Oh, goodness, what a mess I’ve put us allin,” Meredith said, slouching. “How will I ever be able to go outin public again?”
No one answered, which was answer enough.Shaking her head, she brought her hand up to her cheek and wipedaway a stray tear. She wanted desperately to be alone, away fromprying eyes and stood on shaky legs. Meredith let her sister takeher arm and guide her.
“Come dear,” Sarah said. “It’s been astrange night indeed.”
Meredith nodded and crossed the room withSimon close behind her. As they left, though, she realized thatJack hadn’t followed them.
They continued down the hallway and up aback staircase that led to the guest quarters. A vague shoutingcould be heard as they reached the landing. Sarah and Simonescorted Meredith to her room and she wondered if they were allsuspecting that the duke and duchess were fighting.
Feeling as though it was all her fault,Meredith closed the door behind her after saying goodnight andquickly undressed. Had she had any sense, she would die ofmortification right there, but her silly body wouldn’t disappear.Instead, she climbed into bed and laid perfectly still untilflashes of Clyde’s face began to surface in her mind. Then Jack’sheated glare bubbled up in her memories and she began to toss andturn in the dark.
She would have no peace tonight or any nighthere after if she didn’t speak with him. She needed to find Jackimmediately.
Chapter Twelve
Jack was sitting, sunken into one of thelarge chairs that was positioned in front of the large fireplace inMountebank’s private office. He had been there for hours, wonderingwhy he felt so hostile and trying to decipher his feelingsregarding Meredith’s secret marriage.
Why hadn’t she told him?
It wasn’t his business, he knew, but she hadtrusted him with her secret about the cottage by the sea and assmall a thing as that had been, he had reveled in knowing about it.Jack couldn’t explain it, but he felt entitled to all of hersecrets. He had no right to feel like that, but he couldn’t helpbeing submerged in an oddly unsettled, primitive emotion thatMeredith belonged to him. He knew that wasn’t true either, but hewanted it to be.
Someone, somewhere had hurt Meredith and itpossessed him. He desperately wanted revenge on her behalf. What astrange, all-encompassing emotion to feel. Even if she didn’tbelong to him, he wanted to do everything in his power to keep hersafe.
His long, scarred fingers flexed into a fistas he imagined meeting the bastard who had abandoned her. How couldanyone have ever intentionally hurt someone like Meredith?
Lost in thought as he took another sip fromthe scotch he had been nursing for an hour or so, he suddenly heardthe doorknob click. Expecting Mountebank, he didn’t move, onlystared into the fire, hoping the man would leave him alone with histhoughts.
“Jack?” A feminine voice spoke.
Every inch of Jack responded to his name onher lips. It was as if tiny sparks flashed against his skin as herealized it was Meredith, but he remained still. His heart wassuddenly racing as he listened to her gentle footfall. When shestopped, he tilted his head a fraction of an inch, not sure why hedidn’t want to acknowledge her.
“Miss Taylor,” he said after a moment, hisvoice harsher than he had expected it to sound. “Have you lost yourway?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep,” she said from behindhim. “Why do you call me that?”
“Call you what?”
“Miss Taylor.”
“It is your name.”
“I thought we were to be friends.”
“Friends who keep secrets?” he said, eyes onthe dancing flames in the fireplace.
A heavy pause settled between them as thetension grew. Jack knew he was out of line, was vastly aware of it.He repeated in his mind the words his conscience seemed to spoutevery time he grew angry with her.It wasn’t his business. Hehad no right. But he wanted to do damage to the man who hadhurt her. He wanted to cause bodily harm to him and every personwho ever made her feel less than. And he was angry that she hadn’ttrusted him enough to tell him the truth. Surely, she wouldadmonish him for being such an ass. He knew he deserved it, but sheremained still as the silence grew.
