Read Online Smuggler's Lady by Jane Feather - Free Book Online Page B

that the steward was waiting in the library for his monthly discussion of estate business.
    â€œOh, Nan, why did you not wake me earlier?” Meredith sprang from bed. “I cannot imagine how I could have been such a slug-a-bed.”
    Nan, looking at her erstwhile nursling’s heavy eyes, sniffed but refrained from comment. While Meredith sponged herself with water from the ewer, she laid out a simple day dress of faded muslin, knowing that Meredith would be out and about on the estate once her interview with Mr. Farquarson was over.
    â€œI suppose the boys have breakfasted already.” Merrie fumbled with the buttons on her sleeves in her haste. Nan, tutting, pushed her hands away and did the task herself.
    â€œHours ago,” she said. “Master Hugo’s with his books, Master Theo’s off to the village, and the good Lord only knows what that young rapscallion Rob is about.”
    Merrie laughed, knowing full well Nan’s great fondness for Rob. “He’ll be back when he’s hungry,” she declared, twisting the thick, auburn braid into a coronet around her head. “Having first regaled every available pair of ears with the most intimate details of the household.”
    That thought gave her pause; her forehead puckered as the image of Damian, Lord Rutherford, rose with alarming clarity. She had already come to the conclusion that she would avoid any further encounter even if it meant immuring herself in Pendennis until the charms of Cornwall palled on the London buck and he decided to return whence he came. He was quite the most detestable creature it had ever been her misfortune to meet—so arrogantly certain of his superiority, so devastatingly assured of achieving his own ends, so appallingly powerful. Meredith gulped as her eyes met their reflection in the glass. It was the consciousness of that power that frightened her. It was not simply that he was physically so much stronger than herself although she had ample reason for knowing that, but there was something else, something indefinable about the aura of authority he carried—a feeling she had that once he set his mind to something, nothing and no one could stand in his way. And if he set his mind to something concerning Merrie Trelawney ... ?
    She shivered. Why did he call her that? She was known as Merrie only to her most intimate friends, family, and household, and it had been five years since she had legitimately been known as Merrie Trelawney. Yet, Lord Rutherford used that name as if he had the right—as if it carried some special significance, just for him.
    She gave herself a vigorous mental shake. There was a busy day’s work to be accomplished, a household and estate to manage, decisions to be made. Thoughts of domineering noblemen who didn’t recognize when they were unwelcome had no place in the scheme of things.
    Meredith went downstairs. “Seecombe, would you be good enough to bring coffee to the library? I am behindhand this morning and have no time for breakfast.”
    â€œCertainly, Lady Merrie.” Seecombe inclined his head, determined that he would take rather more than just coffee to the library. Her ladyship needed to keep up her strength. The entire household was aware of the struggles Lady Blake had to keep her head above water as they were also aware that, while their wages were occasionally late in coming, they were always paid as the first priority. Sir John had had a fine time gambling away his fortune, and it was a crying shame that, young as she was, his widow should be reduced to such desperate straits. A lesser woman, they all knew, would have sunk beneath the burdens, but her ladyship refused to surrender. The boys were kept in school, no member of the household had been turned away, the pensions and gratuities to retired retainers were maintained. How she did it was the puzzle and a subject for considerable speculation in the kitchens of the neighboring manor