Dash of Enchantment

by Patricia Rice

  At first, she didn’t seem to know what he wanted. In the next moment, she was opening fully to him, moaning in surrender and flattening her hands against his chest while his tongue plundered and stole the innocent passion she offered.

  Only whores had ever kissed him like that, and not with this amount of pleasure. Wyatt felt his body hardening in response, and caution fled with the winds. He gripped her arms tighter, twisting his mouth against hers until he received the maximum pleasure of their proximity. As her breasts crushed into him, her tongue tentatively met his, and intense desire dashed all reason.

  He stroked her back, caressing, learning the fine-bones of her fragile figure. The satin of her robe slid through his fingers, falling to the bed. He wanted to pull her hips against his, feel her response to his arousal, but he wasn’t ready to frighten her yet.

  She was so incredibly responsive. He hadn’t expected this, had never dreamed such passion was available for just a touch and a kiss. In the back of his mind, he condemned himself for what he was doing, but such pleasure did not often come his way.

  Cassandra uttered a soft sound like a purr as Merrick explored the curve of her breast. The thin cotton of her shift offered no protection, and he stroked the nipple pressing eagerly into his palm.

  He scarcely heard the first timid knock on the door. He had the pins from her hair and bent her backward with his kisses so the lush tresses fell over his arm and his brain was south of his waistcoat.

  A louder knock jarred him back to his senses. Intellectually, he had known the outcome from the moment she’d thrown away the key. Physically, he had no desire to release her. His first wife had never allowed such liberties, and his experience with whores had been unpleasant. Strangely enough, he was almost exuberant with the freedom that knock and familiar voices represented.

  With a wry, mocking look, Wyatt sat Cassandra back against her heels and smiled down into her stunned loveliness. “I think you are about to be granted your wish, my lady. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Cassandra clung to his arm a moment longer, squeezing her eyes shut while regaining composure.

  He waited until she spoke.

  “Answer it, my lord, for I fear I cannot.”

  Sympathetically, Wyatt caressed her reddened cheek, then hardening his resolve, he released her. “The door’s locked,” he yelled over his shoulder to the anxious rapping. “You’ll have to find a key.”

  To the shrill exclamations of surprise and concern from the other side, Wyatt turned a deaf ear. His body had not been so totally out of control since he was a boy with no outlet for his sexual needs. Should anyone walk in here now, he could not disguise his state of arousal.

  He schooled his rampaging emotions to practiced coldness.

  “My Lord Merrick, is Cassandra in there? What has happened? Why can’t you open the door?” The high, quavering voice of Cassandra’s elderly and respectable great-aunt pierced the heavy paneled door with anxiety.

  “There has been a misunderstanding, Lady Matilda. Cassandra is fine. The key seems to have fallen into the bushes. I trust the butler keeps an extra set.” Merrick turned his glare on Cassandra, who responded woodenly to his unspoken demand.

  “I am fine, Aunt Matilda. The wind blew the door shut, that is all. Merrick has been everything that is proper.”

  That was a bouncer that wouldn’t pass the first inspection, but for quick thinking, it would have to do. Merrick took a deep breath and walked to the open window. His loins still ached, but he tried not to think. He had been successfully using that ploy since he was a youth and the victim of his mother’s scathing tongue. It was remarkable how many situations one could survive without thinking.

  “You had better do something with your hair,” he warned without turning to look at the forlorn creature in the bed. He knew the abandoned disarray of red-gold hair falling in wanton tendrils that would meet the gaze of the curiosity-seekers outside the door.

  Cassandra obediently began stabbing pins through thick curls. She had, after all, promised him obedience.

  When the key finally scraped in the lock, Merrick almost had himself in control. He reluctantly turned to face the condemnation of his peers. Too late, he discovered Cassandra’s mermaid stance in the middle of the bed, her arms raised to her lovely tresses, her satin robe sliding loose to reveal the bodice of her thin gown. He groaned and felt the surge of heat in his loins return as the door flew open.

  Tiny, stooped, gray-haired Aunt Matilda entered first. No emotion was visible from behind her thick spectacles, but Merrick rather expected they concealed resignation. Cassandra was, after all, a Howard, and Lady Matilda had no very high opinion of her niece’s family.

  Her gaze swerved to him, and Wyatt impassively bore her regard. Behind her peered all the guests that he had once considered friends.

  “Wyatt!” His fiancée’s shriek cut the silence, followed by a low moan as Catherine discovered Cassandra’s scandalous position.

  Her moan was followed by the inevitable faint. Wyatt watched callously as one of the other male guests caught her up in his arms and carried her off. Randolph had need of a rich heiress. They would suit each other fine.

  Their host pushed his way through the crowd, gave Merrick a shocked look, then, murmuring something about “simple explanations,” ushered the sightseers away, leaving Lady Matilda to hear their story alone.

  Wyatt made a polite bow. “My apologies, my lady. This was all a simple misunderstanding, but of course I am sensible of the damage done to your great-niece’s reputation. I will repair at once to London to seek Lady Cassandra’s hand from Lord Eddings. I trust you will find it in your heart to forgive what must appear to be an unseemly situation.”

  Matilda sniffed, lifting her haughty nose in the air to shift her spectacles up. Merrick was aware that his cravat was mussed and his hair disheveled, and her knowing look almost caused him shame. Almost.

  “Balderdash, Merrick. I know an unseemly situation when I see one, and this one is beyond unseemly. As much as I hate to admit it, I must assume you are the injured party, however.”

  She cast a look to Cassandra, who—now that the guests had departed—had finally returned her feet to the floor. Matilda sniffed at Cassandra’s still-stunned expression, then returned her gaze to the earl. “However, you are old enough to know better, Merrick. I suggest you leave tonight, before that shrewish fiancée of yours decides hysterics are in order.”

  “That would be cowardly, my lady,” Wyatt murmured, although he heartily wished he could take the coward’s way out. He knew Catherine of old. One of her temper tantrums was not a pretty sight. “I must apologize and make my explanations to the lady. I think it would be best if I escorted you and Lady Cassandra back to London in the morning.”

  Matilda snorted. “Let Cassandra pay the price of this escapade. She has been given entirely too much freedom in the past. It is time she faces the consequences of her rash actions. She will apologize to Catherine. You will write her a brief note of explanation and tell her you will understand if she calls the engagement off. You will be in a ticklish situation until she does, but it’s no matter. She’ll come around. Just don’t let that young Howard wastrel rob you of more than is proper. He will only gamble it away.”

  Merrick was unable to find a respectful manner in which to argue with the elderly lady. He lifted his gaze to Cassandra’s bewildered beauty, and felt a sharp ache of desire at the thought of possessing such a fiery creature. He ought to be ashamed of himself, but he only felt triumph, as if his life of respectability had finally been rewarded.

  Approaching Cassandra, Wyatt took her cold hand and bowed formally over it before gazing into the depths of her iridescent eyes. He had thought them blue, but now he saw they contained all the aquas and greens and midnight colors of the ocean.

  “I will come to call as soon as you return to town, my lady. There are a number of things we will need to discuss.”

  “I’m sorry, Merrick,” she w
hispered brokenly.

  “I’m not,” he heard himself saying, to his own horror. She was a lying, conniving, scheming little witch who would make his life hell. And the thought of her in his bed made his blood race. He had married for all the right reasons the first time and found no happiness. Why not marry for all the wrong reasons and at least obtain some small measure of pleasure?

  Cassandra offered him a startled look before lowering her lashes. Merrick imagined he’d given her something to think about in the days to come. He had no idea if she was a virgin or not, and to his own surprise he really did not care.

  Feeling much as if he had just gained wings and been caught in a hurricane wind, Merrick bowed and left the ladies alone. He needed time to learn the vagaries of this wind that carried him. He suspected Cassandra needed time to acquaint herself with the ball and chain she had just acquired. He envisioned troubled days ahead, but the nights...

  Remembering those impassioned kisses, Merrick admitted the nights would be worth every bit of trouble she had caused. If he could keep her to himself.

  Chapter 6

  Duncan Howard looked liked death warmed over, Merrick observed as he entered the study of the marquess’s home the next afternoon. Duncan was a year or two younger than himself. They had more or less grown up together until Merrick had inherited his estate at the age of twelve.

  Duncan had gone the idle way of his titled peers who had naught to do but wait for their fathers to pass on. Merrick had taken up the reins of an estate so large he had not known the boundaries or extent of it until he was nearly twenty.

  Not that the difference in their paths hadn’t been a foregone conclusion from the first, Merrick wryly admitted. His rigid, religious antecedents were exact opposites of the wayward Howard ancestors, as if living next to each other through the centuries had driven neighbors to opposite extremes.

  Duncan scowled and offered no hand in greeting as Merrick approached. “What is your complaint today that you must hunt me down in town? Has another damned tree fallen on your turnip crop? Surely I have no tenants left to poach your land?”

  “I am not here to discuss our estates, Eddings, not in the matter of land, leastways. Am I allowed to sit or must I stand on formality?”

  Not looking completely mollified, Duncan took a seat behind his desk and indicated a chair. Merrick noted the new marquess did not look entirely comfortable in this position of authority, as if he had tried on his father’s shoes and found they did not quite fit. He had the puffy eyes of a confirmed roué and the sulky mouth of a spoiled child. Beyond that, he was as handsome as his sister was lovely.

  Wyatt took a seat and looked for a place to begin. “I have come about Lady Cassandra.”

  Duncan grunted and relaxed. Reaching for the decanter of brandy, he admitted, “She’s a rare handful. I expected her to be sent packing well before this. Well, you need not worry. I’ve ordered her home. She should be out of your hair shortly.”

  “That’s not precisely what I had in mind.” At the moment, Merrick wished it was. He disliked being put in the position of admitting a moral failing. “I have come to ask you for Lady Cassandra’s hand in marriage.”

  Duncan choked and spewed a mouthful of brandy across the desk. He gaped as if Merrick had just taken leave of his senses. “Cass? You want to marry Cass? Why? Is she blackmailing you?”

  Duncan knew his sister well. Merrick grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest. “There was a minor incident at the country party. I feel obligated to make reparations. I’ll take care of her, you can be sure of that. I’m prepared to make a handsome settlement. I think it best if we wed quickly and remove to the country. I don’t believe city life suits her.”

  Duncan grinned. “You sound as if you’re about to buy a pound of conscience. What would you want with the little hellion? She ain’t your sort by far.”

  Wyatt stiffened. “She’s young and impressionable. We’ll grow to suit. The main thing is to avoid the scandal.”

  The marquess leaned back in his chair and suffered his discomfort with apparent gladness. “The main thing, Merrick, is her settlement. The chit has cost me an unholy fortune, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I am in need of funds. She’s a lively little thing, and quite a few are taken with her. The scandal won’t scare them away unless you’ve got her with child, and somehow, I rather doubt that.”

  Merrick felt his temper rise. Although he did not come to town often, he was well aware of the gossip. The sobriquet “St. Wyatt” was as nothing to the rumors of why his first wife had never produced children after years of marriage. To have Eddings throw that up in his face added fuel to a simmering fire. Only the memory of Cassandra’s stunned expression after he kissed her kept him in his seat.

  “You are speaking of your sister, not a prize horse,” he informed Eddings coldly. “I have reason to believe she is not averse to my attentions. While I am not prepared to ransom her for an unreasonable sum, I am prepared to accept full financial responsibility for her from this day forward. I will provide her with an annual income, and settle a fair sum on you and her mother. And I will provide her with the home and security a lady should expect. You will not need to worry about her ever again.”

  “I never worried about her before, why should I start now? Cass can take care of herself. Why the deuce she would choose you above the others, I cannot fathom, but she’s free to make that choice, provided that you can make the same settlement as her other suitors.” Duncan sat back in his chair, smiled comfortably, and named a sum that would have bought and sold his entire holdings twice over.

  Merrick offered a cold smile. “I may be wealthy, Eddings, but I am no love-bitten fool. Anyone willing to offer that sum is buying your silence.” He leaned over and scribbled an amount on a piece of paper on the desk. “I’ll not bargain for her. You’re the one who must live with your conscience. You know she will be safe in my hands.”

  Duncan glanced at the number and shrugged. “As I’ve told you, Cass can take care of herself. You may be well off, Merrick, but Rupert can dress her in diamonds, and offer her a trifle more pleasure than a country parson. My conscience doesn’t nag me in the least by accepting his offer. She’s whetted his appetite and he’s chewing at the bit. I daresay he’s more her type than you. So I suppose we have nothing further to discuss.”

  He rose from his chair and Merrick rose with him, his ire seething. “Rupert is an unscrupulous rake with the morals of a degenerate rabbit. If you can accept his suit over mine, the matter is on your conscience. I wash my hands of it. Should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  ~*~

  Cassandra rode in silence as the carriage carried her and her mother’s aunt back to London. The scene with Catherine had left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Catherine had every right to be outraged, but she had said unforgivable things about Merrick.

  Cassandra was willing to admit that she was a wanton hoyden. She didn’t think she was a whore, but she was willing to let the epithet slide by. But to call Merrick a debauched old goat seeking filthy pleasures with children was an unfeeling and irrational thing to say. Unfortunately, Cassandra realized that Catherine might not be the only one saying them.

  Wyatt was such a proud and proper man, she hated to be the one to blacken his name. Why hadn’t she thought more about his feelings before she landed them in this situation?

  Because she had no choice. Lifting her chin, she stared out the carriage window. Aunt Matilda had scarcely said two words to her since they left. She would not be sympathetic to Cassandra’s plight. No one would. How could she explain that Rupert made her skin crawl? It was her place to accept her brother’s choice for her, they would say. Well, she wouldn’t. She had made her choice and acted upon it. She would rather live with her own wrong decisions than someone else’s.

  By the time they arrived in London, Cassandra was prepared to defy the world in defense of her decision to marry Wyatt. He must have spoken to Duncan by now. He would come to
see her in the morning. The earl would be angry and coldly formal, but she would win him. She knew she could.

  She might be wanton, but for a little while, Merrick had been too.

  Holding that thought as she marched into her mother’s bedroom under Matilda’s command, Cassandra smiled blithely and rushed to her mother’s bedside. Lady Howard appeared paler than usual, and Cassandra brushed a strand of golden hair back her mother’s face as she perched at the edge of the bed.

  “Do not look so gloomy, Mama. I am quite fine. The cloud of disgrace will soon pass over after I am wedded.”

  Faded eyes that once were blue settled searchingly on her daughter’s face. “You are happy with the idea, then? You are so very young, but I thought you wiser than I. Do you know something that I don’t?”

  That was an odd tack to take over a daughter’s impending marriage. Duncan must have been saying reprehensible things behind her back. Cassandra tried to smile her mother’s doubts away. “Don’t you think he’ll make a good husband, Mama? I thought you would be pleased. He has asked, hasn’t he? He said he would.” She tried to hide the note of anxiety in her voice. Surely a man like Wyatt wouldn’t have second thoughts and turn tail.

  “But I thought... He is so much older than you, more worldly.” Lady Howard lifted her gaze to her aunt’s disapproving expression. “Did the visit not turn out well? Why are you back so soon? I had hoped... Cassandra was so set on...”

  Cassandra was accustomed to her mother’s unfinished sentences, but she did not like the sound of these. Perhaps Merrick had not mentioned the reason for his sudden proposal.

  Aunt Matilda was not so silent. She gave Cassandra a scornful glance. “Your daughter behaved as any Howard would and got herself sent home in disgrace. I trust the young man has offered for her as he said? Otherwise, we must find somewhere to send her. She cannot show her face in London again.”

  Cassandra bit back her irritation. Her mother was nearly white. Had Aunt Matilda no sense at all? “It’s quite all right, Mama. Merrick will give me his name and there will be no scandal. We really did nothing wrong. It was an accident. But you know he is the perfect gentleman. He will be a fine husband and I shall be a proper countess.”