Catherine Coulter: Pendragon

"Oh," Meggie said, and with the greatest reluctance, she let go of his hand.

His head was cocked to one side. "Is your father here?"

She shook her head, took a step closer, then drew up short. Where was her brain? It had shut down, it was that simple. Just looking at him, listening to him speak, watching how he used his hands when he talked, and her brain had moved out, vacated her head.

"No, Father and Mary Rose couldn't leave Glenclose-on-Rowan just yet. Perhaps in a fortnight they will visit London and see me all togged out in my new clothes.

Uncle Douglas and Aunt Alex are in the drawing room. I, ah, heard you speaking to Darby and came to fetch you to them."

Very weak, Meggie, she thought as she saw Darby blink at her, and hoped he would keep his mouth shut. Darby took his duties very seriously and here she was, interfering. Who cared? She took Jeremy's hand again and tugged him after her. "This way."

"You've grown up, Meggie," he said from behind her in a beautiful smooth voice. "You've grown up very fine."

That brought her to an immediate halt. She turned to look up at him. "Thank you. You've grown very tall and handsome. Although I remember you as tall and handsome. I think you were twenty-three or -four when I last saw you."

"Something like that, I guess." He had dark brown eyes. They were twinkling down at her as if he believed her to be flattering him-as a cousin would flatter another cousin.

Well, blessed hell.

"Jeremy, I'm glad you are here." It almost seems like fate , but she couldn't say that.

Uncle Douglas took over then, clapping Jeremy on the back, ushering him into to greet Aunt Alex. Meggie stood there a moment, until Darby cleared his throat.

"Miss Meggie, is there something amiss?"

She turned slowly to look at him. "Yes, Darby, there certainly is. I must figure out what to do about it."

"He has become a very nice man, hasn't he?"

Meggie nodded, thinking, he has become a lot more than just nice. He was a lot more when I was thirteen. Now he's here and he's here for me. Thank you, God .

Uncle Douglas called out, "Meggie, have Darby fetch us some tea and cakes, won't you?"

"Immediately, Miss Meggie," Darby said, gave her a slight bow, and took himself off to the nether regions of the big house.

The first thing Meggie heard when she stepped into the drawing room was Aunt Alex saying, "You knew that Meggie was an exceptional horsewoman, didn't you, Jeremy? Ah, here you are, my love. Come and sit beside me and hear what Jeremy has been doing."

Jeremy said to her, "The last time I saw you, Meggie, you were thirteen years old, and you were carrying around little Alec, teaching him the names of all the flowers. I remember asking you the name of one particular pink blossom, and you said it was a lost cause, you couldn't remember, and you'd made up so many names that Alec couldn't remember either. Alec burped, if I remember correctly."

Meggie grinned. "I had promised my father and Mary Rose that if she had the babies I would teach them what was what. The names of flowers, however, defeated me. They still do. To me, a rose is a rose is a rose, all the rest is different smells. Alec is now seven years old, can you believe it? And Rory is four."

"I look forward to seeing your family."

Douglas said, "How long will you be in London, Jeremy?"

Jeremy said, "Well, Uncle Douglas, as it happens, I'm here for a very specific reason. Then I will be returning to my home in Fowey."

Meggie sat forward, words spilling out of her mouth because she couldn't dam them up. "Come, tell us, Jeremy. Spit it out. You're here for my first Season, aren't you?" You came because you had to come, something powerful brought you here, and now that you've seen me, you know what it is .

He looked perfectly blank, but just for an instant. "Not only your Season, Meggie." He paused a moment, then looked at his aunt and uncle, opened his mouth just as Darby said from the doorway, "My lord, Cook has sent you her favorite lemon tarts. She informed me that they were Lord Stanton-Greville's favorite."

"Yes, they are," Jeremy said. Conversation was desultory as Alex dispensed the tea and offered the cake plate around.

"They are delicious," Jeremy said. "How is Oliver doing at Kildrummy, Meggie? I haven't received a letter from him in nearly six months."

Meggie said, chuckling, "He is altogether too happy-you can just see him leaping over the sheep killers that haven't yet been filled in-you remember, Jeremy, the huge gouges in the earth that sheep, because they're stupid, have always fallen into? Anyway, he's filled in a number of them over the years. Oh yes, Oliver's very happy. You can just stand there and hear him whistling as he counts the sheep and cows and goats and directing any repairs on Kildrummy and the crofts, see that exuberant smile of his when he greets everyone in the village." She paused a moment, giving everyone a chance to laugh, then added, seeing everything so very clearly now, "Do you know what else-he has announced, just last month, that he is ready to marry."

"Good Lord," Jeremy said, choking on the lemon cake. "Oliver, married? I'd believed him quite content in his single state."

"He is thirty, I believe," said Douglas. "I was leg-shackled at twenty-eight. Oliver is behind schedule and so I have told him. He is ripe."

"Ah," said Jeremy, and grinned a fool's grin, "I am also ripe. Perhaps it is predestined."

"That's a nice thought," Meggie said, and wanted to leap on him.

"Douglas wasn't particularly ripe," Alex said and toasted him with her teacup.

"Just thinking about it makes me want a brandy. Jeremy, will you join me?"

"No, thank you, Uncle Douglas. I must be going. I very much wanted to see you, to see that everything was going well, and I see that it is. And here's little Meggie, all grown up now." He rose, hugged Alex, shook Douglas's hand, and walked to Meggie. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to take him right down to the floor and kiss him until he was silly with it. She wanted him to moan, something she had heard her father and Mary Rose doing when they didn't think anyone was about. Jeremy took her hand, lingered just a moment-a bloody cousin's linger-nothing more. "I wish you the best during your Season, my dear."

Meggie realized in that moment that Jeremy wasn't even close to feeling about her as she did about him. Well, after all, the last time he had seen her she'd been only thirteen years old, and she shuddered at that thought. He'd already been a young man. And he'd only seen her for the first time in many years just fifteen hours before. She had to give him a bit more time, to build memories she already had of him, and that meant creating the opportunity for him to fall tip over arse. She said with a guileless smile, "Uncle Douglas and Aunt Alex aren't up as early as they used to be"-clearly a lie of the first order-"and I love to ride early in the morning before everyone is out and about. I would like to go riding with you tomorrow morning, Jeremy. Could you be here at seven o'clock? Is that too early?"

Jeremy said without hesitation, "I should like that very much. I would be delighted to observe an exceptional horsewoman in action. Tomorrow morning, Meggie."

He squeezed her hand. And then he was gone. She heard him say something to Darby, heard the front door close.

Meggie said to her aunt and uncle, "He was only here for fifteen minutes." Then she left the drawing room, humming.

"I don't like this, Alex," Douglas said and downed his brandy. "I don't like this at all. He is too old for her. Indeed, I don't think he even saw her-you know what I mean?"

"I wonder," Alex said, nodding, "what he was going to tell us before Darby came in."

"I don't know. Maybe I don't want to know. Hopefully it was something to do with his new stud. I heard he was dealing with Marcus Wyndham. Now, there is a man I would gladly drink with." A black brow suddenly shot up. "When did we become too old to ride in the morning?