Myriah Fire by Claudy Conn Page B

worry.” She sighed heavily. “You had better leave at once if you are to be back by lunch,” she said sweetly and hurried away.
    Kit watched from the wide window as Myriah returned hastily to his house, and his gray eyes were not smiling. She had complicated his life beyond measure … she was a mystery he needed to solve.
    He had seen her put an envelope into her servant’s hand. He had watched them exchanging words … and he saw Tabson ride off on his roan. What was the chit up to? What had she given her groom … and where was he going?
    It suddenly dawned on him that Miss Myriah White, innocent miss or seductive courtesan, might have a purpose all her own for being at Wimborne Towers. Was her presence here because of his activities in Romney Marsh? Was Myriah White an informer?
    * * *
    Myriah followed the young serving boy upstairs and opened the door to Billy’s room, allowing the lad to enter. After placing the heavily laden tray on the stained wood table beside Billy’s bed, the boy scurried off.
    Myriah pulled open the drapes, and light flooded the room, causing Billy to shield his eyes with his good hand. He focused, found Myriah standing there, and groaned. “Oh God! She is back.”
    “Good morning, Mr. Wimborne. Never say you do not want your breakfast,” Myriah said, lifting a silver cover off a plate filled with eggs and ham.
    “Leave it and be gone, she-devil! Faith, why must you blast at me early in the morning! Let there be light, sayeth Myriah, and there is light. Let there be food, continueth the she-devil, and there is food.”
    “Let there be silence—or thou shalt feel the rod!” she offered in return, giggling.
    They laughed in unison, and Myriah brought him the basin of wash water, placed it on the bed, dipped her fingers in it, and sprayed him with a flick of same. “Let there be cleanliness … and quick, before your food gets cold.”
    He laughed good-naturedly and washed, but she saw him wince as he moved, so Myriah examined his bandaged arm. The circle of brownish, dried blood looked as though it had crept into new areas, and Myriah bent over it, touching it gently.
    “Billy, I think you must have bled a bit more last night,” she said, a frown in her eyes.
    “No doubt, with all the prodding and pulling you and m’brother had at me,” he agreed, grinning at her.
    “Stop dazzling me with your teeth! Seriously, Billy, you had better stay in bed today … and try not to move about too much.”
    “What I need is my shirtsleeve sewn back on!” retorted Mr. Wimborne “Ain’t proper for you to be continually gazing on my bare arm. Might give you evil notions.” He grinned at this and looked up to find his brother’s twinkling eyes upon him. “The sort Kit here has,” Billy added at that juncture and was surprised to see the extent of Kit’s sudden discomfiture.
    “Careful, brat,” warned his brother.
    Billy chuckled and watched with interest as both Myriah and Kit went to an extraordinary amount of trouble to display to one another their total lack of interest in each other.
    “I trust you slept well, Miss White,” said his lordship idly as he took up a cup of coffee and sat at the foot of the bed at a distance from her.
    “As well as could be expected.” She wasn’t letting him off the hook. His behavior was expected, but it hurt all the same. There was no affection in his eyes … which she could not help but note avoided meeting her own.
    “It appears your groom has errands elsewhere this morning,” Lord Wimborne said blandly, his eyes intent on her face, though her words served to pinch at something beating far too rapidly in his chest.
    “Does it appear so? How … observant of you.” She smiled sweetly.
    “I am accounted observant, thank you, Miss White,” returned his lordship.
    “Oh, pray do not thank me. It was not meant as a compliment,” responded the lady, her tone as honey sweet as her smile.
    “Ho!” Billy cried, much amused. “Don’t bandy