Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,4

go to the kitchen, lass, best make yourself presentable. There’s a gentleman to see you.”

“A gentleman?”

“I recognized him right away, though it’s been eight years. I took him to the parlor where you can attend him in private.”

Meggie’s stomach clenched. Mr. Clayton could only mean one man—the man she feared above all others. A man who’d only ever looked at her with dislike, as if she were an insect he’d rather stamp out.

The last time she’d seen him had been eight years ago when she’d lain in a hovel, ruined, broken, and bleeding. Impervious to her grief, he’d lectured her on the shame she had brought upon his name while she grieved for an innocent life.

Billy…

In the years since, Alderley had given her a small stipend that contributed toward her board and keep. But she would have exchanged it in a heartbeat for a single word of affection from the man who was her father.

“How long has he been waiting?” she asked.

“About half an hour.”

“I’d best go directly, for he’ll be angry.”

“Tidy yourself up first, lass. Ye look like an urchin!”

“I doubt he’ll care.”

“A little effort on your part won’t hurt,” he said. “Gentlefolk set too much store on manners and looks, but it’s not our place to disagree. And you must understand why he could never publicly acknowledge you, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she said, blushing at his reference to her birth.

After splashing her face with cold water, she approached the parlor and knocked on the door.

“Enter!”

A shiver of fear rippled through her. Eight years had passed, but she still recognized the voice—a cold, nasal tone with a sharp edge as if every word were barking out an order.

He sat in a chair, the light from the fireplace casting sharp shadows across his face. With a huff of irritation, he struggled to his feet, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane.

She dipped into a curtsey. “Lord Alderley.”

“Come here, child!” he snarled, tapping his cane on the floor. “Let me see you.”

She approached him until he raised his hand.

“That’s far enough.” He looked her up and down, then circled her, muttering to himself about her appearance, as if he were a farmer inspecting a cow at auction. Thin, bony fingers grasped her chin and tipped her head up. His eyes narrowed in concentration, then he released her.

“I’d hoped for better,” he said, “but you’ll do.”

“For what?”

“It’s not your place to ask questions.”

“It is if the answer affects my life,” she said.

His face darkened, and he curled his hand into a fist. For a moment, he looked as if he was going to hit her. Then he sighed and sat down again, gesturing to a chair.

She folded her arms and tipped her chin up. Maybe a show of defiance would persuade him that she’d not be suited to his purposes, whatever they may be, and he’d leave her alone.

“Are you not going to sit?” he asked.

“Why should I?”

“Out of common courtesy, if nothing else. After all, I’ve been supporting you all your life. I can withdraw that support in an instant.”

“Then why don’t you?” she cried. “Why don’t you leave here?”

“Because I have use for you. The time has come for you to show your gratitude.”

“Gratitude?”

“Who fed and clothed you from the day you were born?” he asked. “Who took care of you after your sordid little disgrace when you showed yourself to be a slut, just like your mother?”

She flinched and stepped back.

“Stop right there, girl!” he said. “It’ll be worse for you if you continue to defy me.”

He gestured toward the chair. “Don’t try my patience,” he warned, his grip tightening on the cane.

She took a seat.

“That’s better,” he said. “Perhaps, after eight years, you’ve learned your lesson.”

The memory of loss overcame her will to defy him, and a tear splashed onto her cheek.

If Billy had not died—if she’d not killed him—would he be here now?

“Now’s not the time for self-pity,” Alderley said. “Your life is about to change for the better.”

“I have a good life here,” she said.

“What, tucked away in an obscure little village?”

Wasn’t that what he’d wanted? Obscurity for his bastard?

“I have occupation and fulfillment here,” she said. “It takes my mind off…”

He raised his hand. “Do not speak of it! You do me great injury by referring to it now. I’ll forgive you this once, but shan’t be lenient a second time. As for your husband, he’d have you horsewhipped if he discovered your sordid little secret.”

“My what?”

“Your husband,” he said, triumph in his voice.