Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,55
sound, it had a desolate appearance. A climbing rose bush surrounded the front door but had not been well-tended—not like the roses Mrs. Preston had been so particular about at her cottage in Blackwood Heath.
“Who lives here?” Meggie asked.
“I do.” He pointed ahead with his riding crop. “Can you see the roof of the main house? Behind the trees? We’ve come full circle.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Meggie said. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep my seat.”
He dismounted and held out his hands. “Down you come,” he said. “You’ll be unsteady after such a long ride. Just relax into my arms.”
She took his hands, and he pulled her off the saddle. As soon as she landed, her ankle gave way, and she pitched forward. He caught her in his arms and held her close.
“Steady, Meggie!” he laughed. She ought to admonish him for the familiar address, but she was done with propriety for one day.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
She tested her foot. “My ankle’s a little stiff, but I don’t think I’ve sprained it.”
“Good.” He took the reins of her mount. “Let me tether the horses, then we’ll get you inside.”
“Shouldn’t we return to the main house?”
“We’ll do that when you’ve rested,” he said. “Unless the groom’s cottage is insufficiently grand for you?”
“Hardly that,” she laughed. “It’s twice the size of the house I grew up in.”
“Excellent!” he said. “Now, if you’re willing to let yourself inside while I see to the horses, you’ll find some of Mrs. Brown’s lemonade in the kitchen—and some of her fruitcake.”
Though she knew it was improper, where was the harm in going inside? Here, she could pretend that she’d never been elevated to a status where she was expected to look down on others.
Inside, the cottage was tidy, but it lacked the little touches that turned a place into a home. The kitchen furniture was purely functional—a small wooden table with four chairs and a cracked sink containing a single, dirty pan. It was the home of a single man. Meggie smiled at the thought of the inevitable transformation that would take place when Ralph married Milly. She would do everything she could to help the couple. She could furnish the place with curtains for a splash of color and stock the kitchen with new pans.
A stoneware bottle sat by the sink, and Meggie opened it and sniffed the contents. Lemons—sweet and sharp. She looked about and found two cups, then filled each one, placed them on the table, and waited.
When Ralph entered the kitchen, his eyes widened as he saw the cups on the table.
“It’s not for you to serve me,” he said.
She waved aside his protest. “Today, I’m a friend, not your mistress.”
“Then let us drink to friendship.” He lifted his cup, touched hers, then drained the contents.
“You have a charming cottage here,” Meggie said.
“It serves a purpose.”
“It should do more than that,” she said. “It needs a woman’s touch to make it a home.”
“And you’re the woman to do it?”
“There’s much I can do, Ralph, for when you decide to take a wife.”
“Is there?” His voice lowered, and he leaned over the table and took her hand. “What can you do for me?”
“Well...” she hesitated, “…for you and Milly.”
“Milly?”
“You’re going to marry her, aren’t you?”
He wrinkled his nose. “That little milkmaid?”
“You must know she’s sweet on you.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not sufficient reason to marry her.”
“But you want a wife, surely?”
“Whatever for?”
“Companionship.”
“I can find companionship anywhere,” he said. “All I need for that is a willing pair of arms and a woman eager to warm my bed.”
She recoiled at his words. “Respectability, then,” she said.
“My pardon,” he said, smiling. “I spoke out of turn. Of course, I’ll marry, and doubtless, Milly shall be my choice. But you must admit that by keeping her guessing, I stand to gain from it by increasing her desire.”
“That seems rather underhanded,” Meggie said.
“It’s a game all women play.” He moved to take the seat next to her. His thigh bumped against her leg, and she stiffened.
“You’re not adverse to a little game-playing yourself,” he said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Even now, you seek to tempt me to increase my desire.” He placed his hand on her thigh. “Don’t you realize there’s no need to play games with me?”
His eyes darkened, and he drew close. She stiffened in fear and forced a laugh.
“You jest, Ralph!” she said. “Perhaps you seek to understand the best way to court a young woman so that I