Meg felt her foot might fall off from shaking it so much—a habit she’d always had that manifested her nervousness. It wasn’t simply Jonathan who made her nervous, although his presence made every bite feel like rocks as she fought the urge to look at him. Being with the Castle family felt different. Her meals had always been rushed, a bite here or there, always slightly hungry, never able to fully enjoy her meals. Yet here she sat, listening to the ongoing conversations circling the table. Jeffries had joined them and brought the twins who sat silently, careful not to make eye contact, and Meg was glad for their presence so that attention was dispersed instead of focusing on her.
When she re-poured Frank’s milk, she stole a glance at the doctor and saw him looking at her. She averted her eyes, pretending to look at the roasted parsnips, which then she felt compelled to ask for, even though she was thoroughly stuffed. Unable to help herself, she looked at Jonathan again beneath her thick lashes. He was talking to Jeffries, but his eyes flickered to her.
Was he really looking at her as much as it seemed? Or was he only looking because apparently she had no self-control when it came to stealing glances? It was always hard to tell, wasn’t it? Not knowing if one looked at you because you looked at them or if it was the other way around.
“This cornbread is amazing,” Jonathan suddenly proclaimed. “Did you make this Mrs. Castle?” he asked, his eyes sweeping across Meg and landing at last on Anna.
“Oh, no. Meg made the bread. She is putting my cooking skills to shame.”
Jonathan shot Meg a smile, and she felt her heart spasm. “I love corn bread, especially with honey butter.”
Meg’s eyes brightened. “I know it’s a favorite of yours, I—” She stopped and swallowed, looking at her plate, not knowing how to retract her comment. He couldn’t know she’d worked at the Red Bear, nor that she was the cook who had flirted with him. He might even think she’d followed him here, and how embarrassing that would be?
Rose saved her, touching Meg’s hand reassuringly beneath the table. “I told Meg you loved cornbread,” she said. “You always took it for lunch growing up.”
Jonathan nodded, with a puzzled expression. “Well, it is the best I have ever tasted, and that is saying a great deal, believe me.”
Rose glared at him. “I notice that you do not mention my corn bread, Jonathan. I did make you some on occassion.”
Jonathan grimaced. “I remember … was that cornbread? I thought you were playing a joke on me by giving me rocks.”
After Rose feigned a shocked gasp, the table went back to easy conversation. Meg relaxed, speaking eagerly to Rose and the two silent men flanking her as a means of distraction.
“Gentlemen, will you help me with dishes, and then we can serve dessert?” Mrs. Castle asked. “And Jonathan, I believe you needed to check Meg for an injury.”
“I should put Daisy down to bed, then I’ll join you,” Rose said.
Jonathan nodded and Meg looked away shyly as he stood up. Were his cheeks flushed or was that simply her imagination?
“My bag is in the front room.” He held a hand out waiting for Meg to exit before him. “Ladies first.”
Meg sat nervously while Jonathan set down his bag and searched for a stethoscope. By then Rose had joined them and settled on a couch with a book.
“This won’t take long,” Jonathan said, his voice barely above a murmur. “I’m going to need to examine your ribs and then listen to your breathing. Is that fine with you?”
Meg understood that he was asking permission to touch her. She glanced at Rose who was peeking above her book, which she quickly held up over her eyes, refusing to help or interfere with the interaction between Meg and the doctor.
“Go ahead,” Meg said more nonchalantly than she felt.
Jonathan nodded and placed his hands on her side. Sheer delight shot through her skin as his long fingers pressed softly. He was so near, listening to her breath, that Meg could smell the soap on his neck. Her body reacted to the touch with an insatiable hunger that demanded more tenderness, more gentleness, more of everything that it had been deprived of for years.
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
Meg could feel the sharp pinch. “A little.” The pinch wasn’t the problem. The problem was that her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wing. Her mind was in composure, but her body wanted to lean into his hands like a moth drawn to flame, eager for its light despite the danger of getting burned.
Jonathan lowered his hands. “Here?”
“No,” Meg choked, crossing her ankles. This examination could not take long. She would faint if it did.
He slid his hands up, sending a shiver beneath his palms. His hand stilled and for a moment he let go, averting his eyes and taking a slow breath before placing his hands back on her.
“Here?” he asked his voice so soft it was barely audible.
Meg nodded. “A little.” She swallowed looking at the opposite wall. What was wrong with her?
“It is cracked,” he concluded, standing up quickly and turning away to shake his head like he was clearing his thoughts. “Let me check your breathing and heart, and then we will be done.”
“I am breathing fine,” Meg said quickly. She didn’t want him closer, yet at the same time she felt a hunger to have him near.
“Any injury of the ribs could affect your breathing. Better to be safe and check it.”
Meg nodded with a sigh and stiffened her muscles when he placed the stethoscope on her.
“So tell me, what do you like Meg?” the doctor asked suddenly.
She looked up, confused by the question. “Excuse me?”
“Many people don’t like having a doctor examine them. Questions help.”
Meg blinked. I like you. I like you touching me. I want to run my fingers through your hair, cling to your chest, and feel the muscles in your back. I want this examination to never end so as long as it keeps you near me.
“I like animals,” she said shyly. “I am not around them much, but I do love them. I also love cooking.” He was right; this took a little of the focus off him, “and holidays.” I remember holidays before my father left and they were wonderful.
“And what else?” Jonathan inquired, checking her lungs.
“I cannot think of anything else,” Meg sighed. “I am afraid I’m rather a boring person who is not very accomplished.”
Jonathan settled back on his knees, looking at her curiously. “I don’t think you are boring at all.”
Meg smiled uneasily with the intensity of his look. “Well, you don’t know me,” she countered. He looked like he was about to argue, but decided against it and placed his stethoscope back in the case.
“What do you like?” Meg found herself asking. “Perhaps I have not been introduced to enough pursuits from which to take pleasure. Maybe ideas are all I need in order to expand my interests.”
Jonathan pursed his lips as he thought. His dark eyes narrowed in focus with his straight jaw ticking. Meg took the moment to admire his face, his neck, his shoulders—
“I love books,” he said. “I am currently reading one on forensics.”
“Forensics?” Meg asked curiously.
“Evidence on dead bodies used to solve crimes,” he answered and then laughed when Meg’s lips curled into a smile. “Most women find that repulsive.”
“I believe they may pretend to find it repulsive,” she said, “but most females have sharp minds, which they hide beneath a vacant facade.”
“And why do they do that?” Jonathan let a slow grin spread across his face.
“So as not to frighten men away. Heaven forbid a woman be more intelligent than a man. Who would have her then?”
A soft chuckle escaped Jonathan’s lips. “Are you one of those women?” he asked.
Meg frowned. “I’m not married am I? Tell me more of what you enjoy.” She should keep her mouth closed, but for so long she had watched this man, seen him look at the mysterious picture, cooked his meals, and wondered about who and what he was.
“I love to walk. When I worked in New York I enjoyed walking in the city and parks where you could see a variety of people every day. Here I enjoy the stillness and peace that comes when I go on my walks. I love animals too, as well as music—though I don’t play any instruments.” He cocked his head slyly, “And I immensely enjoy doughnuts.”
Meg’s eyes widened as Jonathan waited for her reply.
Anna suddenly walked in, announcing dessert. Meg stood up so fast the chair scooted back an inch. “I’ll help serve it,” she said quickly as she hurried out of the front room.
Jonathan watched her and looked down at his doctor’s case. She’d smelled like fresh bread and warm butter when he’d examined her. She was thin but strong, and up close, her eyes were pure gold.
He knew she was nervous. Most women who had been abused would feel that way when touched in any form, but then she began asking him about himself. Her smile had been warm, her eyes full of curiosity. He could have sworn there was an eagerness in her words and desire in her eyes. Of course, he reminded himself, he was not the greatest judge about a woman’s feelings.
Rose was suddenly by him, her eyes wide with a mischievous smile on her lips. “That seemed to go well.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Do not tell me you are playing matchmaker, Rose? Things always end badly when you do.”
“They do not end badly. Besides, in this case it’s obvious both of you harbor a liking towards one another.”
Jonathan chuckled. “I doubt that woman has any interest in me. I thought she did not remember me, which, by the way, is not a good sign. Then when she knew that I liked cornbread, it proved that she remembers me and is pretending not to, which is even worse. Besides, you know my luck when it comes to romance.”
Rose waved a careless hand. “Jonathan, I of all people know that romance seldom works out the way it should, but romance is like the tide: It comes as easily as it goes. We cannot watch the waves recede and live in misery thinking they will never return.”
“Yes, but you cannot force the tide. Maybe if Meg didn’t remember me I would have a chance to make myself more … well, memorable. The fact that she is lying about not knowing me can only mean she doesn’t want to have any link between us.”
Rose shook her head. “Or she is shy, or ashamed, or confused, or all three. Women can feel a plethora of emotions at the same time, and all of them can be both real and justified.”
“Just please, Rose, do not push anything. I don’t want another messy heartbreak.”
His friend shrugged. “Very well, I will try to let you do this on your own. Just tell her the story of you rescuing the baby from a carriage. That will surely make her fall in love with you.”
Jonathan arched an eyebrow. “I never rescued a baby from a carriage.”
Rose blinked innocently. “Are you sure? Well, she does not need to know if it is true or not, now does she?” she teased.
Jonathan rolled his eyes dramatically and offered his arm to Rose.