I Kissed an Earl (and I Liked It) (That Wicked O'Shea Family Book 1)

by Merry Farmer

  They reached the side of the house and Marie’s bicycle. Frustration got the best of her. Of all the times for Lady Aoife to suddenly start talking and asking questions.

  “We’ll take my bicycle,” she said, grabbing the handlebars and pulling it around to point toward the drive.

  “Both of us?” Lady Aoife balked. Of course she would.

  “Yes. You can ride on the handlebars.”

  For a moment, Marie thought Lady Aoife’s eyes would pop clean out of her head. “How is that even possible?”

  “It’s easy,” Marie told her. “I rode on the handlebars last week while Christian peddled.”

  Her careless remark earned a look of shock and suspicion from Lady Aoife. A light of understanding came into the woman’s eyes, but before she could come close to saying anything about it, Marie growled and said, “Hurry. Time is wasting. It’s a simple matter of climbing up, sitting here—” she patted the cross-section of the handlebars, “—and keeping your skirts out of the way.”

  Lady Aoife didn’t look at all convinced, but she followed Marie’s instructions and climbed onto the handlebars all the same. As it turned out, it was neither simple nor easy to ride a bicycle with someone sitting on the handlebars. Christian must have been some sort of miracle worker to make it look as easy as he had. It took Lady Aoife several attempts to balance and Marie several more to propel the bicycle forward before they were on their way down the drive.

  Even then, the journey proved a thousand times more arduous than Marie had accounted for. Every time she peddled fast enough to help balance the bicycle and its load, Lady Aoife began to scream in panic. In doing so, she shifted her weight on the handlebar, making Marie fight to maintain balance and momentum. They nearly crashed four times, but Marie was fiercely determined to keep going.

  In the end, the difficulty of the ride aided the overall deception Marie had planned.

  “That’s it. We cannot go on like this,” she panted with genuine frustration as they reached a portion of the road that was within sight of the springhouse. “I need to rest.”

  “I don’t think I could go on either,” Lady Aoife agreed, pressing a shaking hand to her chest as she slipped off the handlebars and staggered to one side.

  Marie scrambled for something to say, scanning the area around the springhouse to see if Christian had followed through with his part in the deception. She nearly shouted for joy when she spotted him and Lord Garvagh striding toward the springhouse from a hill closer to Lord Garvagh’s property. Her relief was quickly eclipsed by alarm, though. Lady Aoife couldn’t see Lord Garvagh before they were ready to spring the trap.

  “Good Lord, have you ripped your skirt?” she asked, nudging Lady Aoife to turn so that her back was toward the springhouse and the men.

  “I don’t think so,” Lady Aoife said. “I was sure to be careful and held my skirts as close as I could.”

  “I’m certain I heard a tear, though.” Marie bent to grab the hem of Lady Aoife’s skirt, then proceeded to check every inch of the fabric of both the skirt and the petticoat underneath.

  She plucked and fussed and did whatever she could to keep Lady Aoife distracted. When she had the woman vexed to the point of madness, Marie glanced toward the springhouse. She was just in time to see Christian open the door and invite Lord Garvagh to enter ahead of him. Christian glanced in Marie’s direction as he did, but the distance was too great for Marie to see what sort of expression he wore.

  Once Christian followed Lord Garvagh into the springhouse and shut the door behind them, Marie stepped away from Lady Aoife. “I must have been mistaken,” she said. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Would you mind if we stopped at the springhouse for a drink of cool water? I could use it.”

  “Yes, I believe I could use some refreshment as well,” Lady Aoife said, fanning herself, lips pursed. “As long as it won’t delay us from reaching Lady Kilrea’s bedside as swiftly as possible.”

  “It won’t,” Marie lied. She picked up her bicycle from where she’d let it drop by the side of the road and wheeled it toward the nearest stand of bushes. “I think I’ll just leave Lucifer here for the moment.”

  “Lucifer?” Lady Aoife’s brow shot up in alarm. “I was riding on a contraption named Lucifer?”

  “It’s a fitting name, no?” Marie teased her as they walked through the grass following the path of the spring.

  Lady Aoife didn’t answer. Or rather, her wary, sideways look was all the answer Marie needed.

  The closer they drew to the springhouse, the more anxious Marie grew about her plan. As she’d detailed it to Christian briefly before leaving him the night before, they would trap Lady Aoife and Lord Garvagh in the old stone structure together for as long as it took them to declare their love. The details of that plan, however, were sketchy at best, now that Marie was faced with the moment of truth. Getting Lady Aoife to enter the springhouse might not be that hard, but getting Christian out without being seen, so that Lady Aoife and Lord Garvagh could be alone and believe they were not being spied upon was another entirely.

  There didn’t seem to be any way to proceed but to charge on once they reached the springhouse.

  “Oh, dear.” Marie stopped within a few yards of the door. “My lace seems to have come loose.” She crouched and pretended to fiddle with her boot. “Go on in without me.” She gestured for Lady Aoife to proceed.

  To Marie’s surprise, Lady Aoife only hesitated for a moment before shaking her head as though she were supremely perturbed and pulling open the springhouse door.

  Marie held her breath, waiting and hoping everything would go to plan, as Lady Aoife stepped over the threshold.

  “Oh! Ned! What are you doing here?” Lady Aoife’s voice sounded from the echoing inside of the old building.

  At the same time, Christian popped his head around the edge of the stone wall. His expression was neutral and his face was still paler than it should have been, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

  That was all the provocation Marie needed. She leapt into action, lunging for the springhouse door and shutting it with a loud thunk. “Oh, no!” she called out with as much feigned distress as she could. “I seem to have stumbled into the door. I think it’s wedged shut.”

  Marie gestured for Christian. He sped forward, joining her at the door and throwing his weight against it. When someone on the other side tried to push it open, Christian held it shut.

  “It does appear to be stuck,” Lord Garvagh said. “Let me try—”

  Christian and Marie both braced themselves hard against the door as Lord Garvagh attempted to throw his own weight into it. The blow Lord Garvagh delivered to the door was bruising. Marie hoped and prayed that she and Christian together would be strong enough to keep it shut.

  “Stand back a moment,” Marie called through to their prisoners. “Let me see if I can just get this to….” She let her words fade and gestured for Christian to fetch the wedges she’d asked him to bring to keep the door stuck tight.

  Thankfully, Christian had grasped what she intended for the prank. He darted to the side and took four sturdy wedges that he’d evidently placed around the corner of the building earlier. As he fetched them, Marie noticed his trousers were soaked from the knees down.

  “If I could just—” Marie pretended to be studying the door as Christian pounded the first wedge into place at the bottom of the door. “It just needs a little—” He followed by securing two more wedges between the side of the door and its frame. “Perhaps a bit of—” Finally, he finished by knocking the last wedge into place at the top of the door. “There,” Marie said. “Try now.”

  She and Christian stood back, holding their breaths. Christian reached for Marie’s hand, grasping it tightly. A moment later, a hard thump sounded from the other side of the door as Lord Garvagh threw his weight into it. He tried a second time, then a third. The door didn’t budge.

  “Whatever you’ve done seems to have made it worse, Lady Marie,”
Lord Garvagh’s grumbling voice said.

  “Oh, dear,” Marie said with a smile as broad as the ocean.

  “Whatever are we going to do?” Lady Aoife asked.

  “Lady Marie, you must find Lord Kilrea at once,” Lord Garvagh commanded. “He was here minutes ago. He climbed down through the spring door with the intent of showing me a feature he has plans to install, but he seems to have disappeared.”

  “How very odd,” Marie said, sending Christian an impish grin.

  Surprisingly, Christian met her wicked look with a smile of his own. It was weaker than what she felt it could be, but after days in which the only expression she’d seen on Christian’s face was misery—or transportation, as she’d seen briefly the night before—the expression and the light it brought to him were priceless.

  “Hurry,” Lord Garvagh charged her. “Lady Aoife is greatly distressed.”

  “And we cannot have that,” Marie said under her breath, sending a victorious look to Christian. “I’ll run as fast as I can,” she called into the springhouse. “In the meantime, are you certain you’ll be all right completely alone, without a soul nearby to hear you, unchaperoned?”

  Christian swatted at her arm, as though he thought she was laying it on too thick.

  “We’ll manage,” Lord Garvagh said. There was an intimacy to his tone that had Marie’s pulse racing in victory.

  “All right. I’m going now,” Marie called out.

  Still holding Christian’s hand, she moved away from the door. Rather than leaving to head up to the manor house, she and Christian walked around the corner to the side of the building where the spring ran down from the hill. The spring sank underground several yards away from the building, which meant a flat patch of grass stretched along that side. It was the perfect place for Marie and Christian to stand with their backs pressed against the stone wall, listening to whatever conversation would happen inside through the thin and patchy roof.

  It took a few seconds in which all they could hear was movement from inside the building before Lady Aoife sighed and said, “How long are we going to be trapped here?”

  “It shouldn’t be long,” Lord Garvagh told her. “Lord Kilrea only just left, moments before you arrived.”

  “I’m surprised the man isn’t more concerned about where you’ve gone,” Marie whispered to Christian.

  “I believe he has other concerns at the moment,” Christian whispered back.

  “Aoife, there’s no need to look so distressed,” Lord Garvagh went on in a tender voice. “We won’t be trapped here for long. Even if the door is stuck, we could still climb out through the spring door below, or through the roof.” There was a pause in which Marie could just make out the sound of Lord Garvagh walking across the creaking floorboards inside the building. “I’d no idea the roof was in such dire need of repair.”

  “At least it lets the light in,” Lady Aoife said in a tremulous voice.

  More creaking followed, then Lord Garvagh said, “I mean it, Aoife. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “But don’t you understand, Ned, this is a sign.” Judging by the slightly muffled sound of Lady Aoife’s words, Marie was convinced Lord Garvagh had embraced her. She sent a triumphant look to Christian, whose entire countenance was filling with mirth as the scene played out. “This is a punishment.”

  “A punishment for what, love?” Lord Garvagh asked in the most tender voice Marie had ever heard from the man.

  “For loving where we shouldn’t,” Lady Aoife went on. “For disobeying my brother and wishing things were other than they are.”

  “Your loyalty to your brother is admirable, sweetling,” Lord Garvagh said, “but as I’ve told you so many times before, it is misplaced. Benedict was wrong to betroth you to a man you do not love when a man who does love you is right here.”

  “Oh, Ned.”

  “I wish you’d let me tell him I was the one he saw creeping out of the crofter’s cottage that night,” Lord Garvagh went on. Marie’s brow shot up. “Then this whole tangle wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I couldn’t bear it if he harmed you, Ned.” Lady Aoife’s plaintive words were followed by a heavy stillness and the faintest sounds of movement.

  Marie turned to Christian, eyes wide, barely able to suppress her laughter. “They’re kissing,” she mouthed, pointing at the wall.

  Instead of smiling and laughing along with her, Christian’s face crumpled into sorrow and defeat. He slumped against the wall, scrubbing his hands over his face.

  Marie shifted to stand in front of him, her feet braced on either side of his. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, taking his hands away from his face.

  “I’ve been such an idiot,” Christian admitted in a hushed voice. “You tried to tell me those two were in love and I was too blinded by grief to listen. You tried to tell me a lot of things.”

  “This isn’t right,” Lady Aoife said with a burst of energy inside the spring house. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Yes, we should,” Lord Garvagh insisted. Marie was fairly certain Lady Aoife had tried to pull away and he’d stopped her, perhaps even pulled her back into his arms. “I love you, Aoife. I am the only man who has a right to marry you.”

  Marie planted her hands against the wall on either side of Christian’s shoulders. She arched one eyebrow and nodded to the building, as if seconding what Lord Garvagh had said for herself where Christian was concerned.

  “We’ve waited far too long to declare ourselves,” Lord Garvagh went on. “If we’d been bold enough to tell the world what we wanted from the beginning, we wouldn’t be in this bind.”

  “If I’d put my foot down when my father insisted I marry her,” Christian echoed, resting his hands on Marie’s waist.

  “It’s not too late,” Marie told him.

  “But look at the mess we’re in now,” Lady Aoife said. “We’ve defied duty, and now look. We’re trapped in here.”

  “Only for the time being,” Lord Garvagh said.

  “But so much tragedy has occurred,” Lady Aoife insisted. “I cannot help but believe old Lord Kilrea and Lord Agivey’s deaths are divine retribution for the night of passion we spent together.”

  Marie’s brow shot up so fast that it made her dizzy. She pressed her lips tightly shut to keep from bursting with laughter. It seemed she wasn’t the only wicked woman in County Antrim after all. She never would have guessed Lady Aoife had it in her.

  Christian’s expression was still pained, though, and his shoulders slumped.

  Marie opened her mouth to speak, but miraculously, Lord Garvagh beat her to it by saying, “God doesn’t punish us for love. Or for disobedience about something as small as ill-advised betrothals. The divine wants us to be happy in all things.”

  “But the accident,” Lady Aoife tried to go on.

  “Accidents happen,” Lord Garvagh said. “They just do. Without any rhyme or reason. They aren’t meted out as punishment for our sins. They are unfortunate coincidences, and we cannot throw away any chance we have for happiness because the world is an imperfect place. Daring to be happy in the face of tragedy is what gives life its meaning.”

  Marie clasped the sides of Christian’s face as Lord Garvagh spoke, staring intensely into Christian’s eyes. Her heart echoed every word Lord Garvagh spoke and then some.

  “It was not your fault,” she whispered, tears stinging at her eyes as emotion rushed in on Christian like a hurricane.

  Christian nodded. It was a tiny movement, all things considered, but it carried within it a surrender that seemed to set Christian free. His eyes were still filled with grief and his face pinched with a fresh wave of pain, but everything else about him felt lighter, lifted up.

  The extended silence from inside the springhouse hinted to Marie that Lady Aoife and Lord Garvagh were kissing again, and she’d be damned if they were the only ones. She leaned into Christian, slanting her mouth over his and pouring her heart and soul in
to kissing him. His arms surrounded her at once, his hands spreading across her back. He straightened, strength rushing back into him as he caressed her mouth with his and explored her with his lips and tongue. If Lord Garvagh kissed Lady Aoife half as passionately as Christian kissed her, the entire springhouse might burn down.

  “I love you,” Christian whispered as he rained light kisses across her cheeks and chin. Marie tilted her head back so that he could nip and lick her neck. “I love you so much, Marie. I’m sorry I even considered marrying someone else.”

  “I knew you would never go through with it,” Marie replied, eager to have his mouth on hers again. “And I know you’ve been grieving. So it’s easy to forgive you.”

  “I’m sorry all the same,” he said. They stopped trying to keep their voices down.

  Marie pulled away from him, taking a step back. She briefly registered something not right about the grass under her feet, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. “It’s all over now,” she said, grasping his hand as if to pull him away from the springhouse wall and taking another step back. “Let’s let them out of the trap and get everyone engaged to who they’re supposed to be engaged to.” She flickered one eyebrow. “And then we can go up to the house and—”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence. As she took another step back, a loud crack sounded under her, and the ground gave way, plunging her downward.

  Chapter 12

  Christian grasped and scrambled, but he wasn’t fast enough to maintain his grip on Marie’s hand as she plunged into what seemed like a hole in the ground. She screamed sharply, but a hollow splash quickly drowned out the sound.

  “Marie!” Christian started forward, but wheeled back when another crack sounded and the ground under him tilted. He leapt to the side in time to avoid tumbling into the spring as another section of the ground collapsed.

  In a flash, he realized what had happened. The spring didn’t simply disappear into the ground before entering the springhouse. Someone had built a deep channel to direct the water and covered it with floorboards of some sort. Only, the construction had been done so long ago that grass had grown up over the boards. If enough time had passed since that had happened, it was as like as not that the boards had rotted. So when Marie put her full weight on them, they gave out, plunging her into the stream.