Drained, they lay quietly a few moments longer, absorbing the newness of this joining. Cassandra felt a throbbing between her legs where he lay, but she had no desire for it to go away. The wonder of what they had done was too raw, and she wanted to know more.
Their mouths met in a long, sweet kiss, and the stirring resumed. Restless with excitement, she stroked the strong build of his chest and shoulders. His kiss became fiercer, and sweet triumph filled her as she realized her ability to arouse him. He did need her. That thought opened her heart without reservation.
He took her slowly this time, bringing her to the edge of passion and letting the desire build until she cried his name and rose greedily to receive him. The ecstasy they achieved was more binding still. Unable to speak of it, they drifted back to sleep.
Wyatt was first to wake with the morning. The rain had stopped, but the overcast dawn added only a gray haze to the room. Cassandra lay curled in his arms, her brilliant hair providing the only curtain for her nudity.
Deep inside Merrick, a knife twisted in his gut, but the inevitability of what he had done could not touch him while he held her trusting body close to his. This was the way it should have been with his first wife, this gentle giving and receiving, the passion, the closeness that should have led to happiness and, eventually, children. That was what he had wanted, longed for, and been denied.
He had thought he had chosen well when he had taken Alice to wife. She had been small, quiet, and pretty in a subdued way that did not draw a bevy of suitors. She had seemed pleased with his courtship, agreed with his conversation, and had accepted his proposal with shy smiles. He had been quite pleased at how easily the dreaded task of finding a wife had been accomplished.
And then they had married. He’d been young and not greatly experienced, but none of his lovers had ever commented on his prowess or lack of it. It had never occurred to him that there would be any complaint from a wife.
But Alice had not stopped complaining from the first night he had taken her to his bed. She had screamed and cried when he had taken her virginity, until he was forced to halt and wait for another night. She had lain like a statue the next time he went to her, visibly holding back her revulsion while he came into her. After he had spilled his seed, she had rolled away and cried into her pillow.
Determined to beget an heir, and believing that she would eventually feel more at ease with her wifely duties, Wyatt had returned to her bed regularly in the first months of their marriage. Instead of becoming more relaxed and comfortable with each other, their infrequent encounters outside the bedroom became strained and tense. Inside the bedroom, the tension made it almost impossible for him to perform.
Eventually Alice had become pregnant, and he had retired with relief to his lonely chambers. When the miscarriage occurred not long after, he hadn’t the heart to return to her bed to start all over. He kept telling himself he would wait until she was fully healed and willing. That time never came.
Cassandra had restored his hope and confidence. Foolish.
Wyatt adjusted her sleeping softness a little closer in his arms. She sighed and rubbed closer when he cuddled her breast in his palm. Although his mind shrieked warnings, he couldn’t let her go.
By the time she woke, Wyatt had smothered even the cries of warning in his head. He had dishonored her. He must face the consequences. Not that the consequences were unpleasant to face when they opened sleepy blue eyes and looked up at him with a slow smile that would cause a clock to stop.
“How do you feel?” he whispered.
Dreamily Cassandra caressed his beard-stubbled jaw, tracing the hard plane of his cheek down to the corners of his mouth, until his lips quirked upward in pleasure. “Enchanted,” she whispered.
He wanted her again, but it was broad daylight and there was no excuse for lingering. He had to be the one to be strong until they could untangle this infernal mess. He could see right now that it would never occur to Cassandra that what they were doing was highly improper.
“You are undoubtedly a sorceress,” he murmured, returning her caress, just enough to be certain she was real. “But unless you can make the world go away, we will have to get dressed before we’re found.”
“Our clothes are still wet.” Cassandra lifted her gaze to watch his expression as she explored the tight points of his nipples.
“Good,” he said, “I’ll need the damp to cool me off, and so will you, it seems.” Wyatt caught Cassandra’s hand in a firm grip and raised it between them.
He searched her face with concern. “You are certain you are well? How is your head?”
“It aches. Can we not stay here until the ache goes away?”
“The ache won’t dissipate this way, wanton. Close your eyes and I will get up first.”
Cassandra blatantly stared as Wyatt rose from their bed. The gray light concealed much, but her heart slammed against her ribs as she absorbed this first full view of male nudity. She had never thought about the differences between a man’s and a woman’s body, but she could see now that Wyatt was admirably suited to complement her. There was no softness in the hard lines of his muscled back and narrow buttocks, but she could give him softness. She could catch only a glimpse of the part of him that made him male, but she knew there, too, they fit together well.
She stretched, testing aching muscles and chafed skin. Desire still burned between her legs, but she ached also. When Wyatt turned to bring her clothes, she caught another glimpse of his maleness, and wondered that she had been able to accommodate him at all. She did not rise to take the clothes, but threw back the covers in a welcoming gesture.
“Get dressed,” he muttered thickly, dropping the clammy gown over her stomach.
Cassandra jerked at the unpleasant damp against her skin. She had grown warm under his thorough observation, but the cold cloth he forced on her was an insult to her well-being. She leapt from the bed and came up against the full extent of their differences. Wyatt towered a head taller and considerably wider, and there was that strong lance of maleness between them.
Wyatt steadied her, and a sudden shock of electricity melded them. Cassandra wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and when he lifted her for a kiss, she could feel his arousal sliding between her thighs. She parted her lips to receive his tongue just as she parted her legs to receive the rest of him.
He caught her hips in his hands and guided her to him. Cassandra flinched as he pressed at her vulnerable entrance, but when he pushed a little harder, she opened to him, sliding her legs upward until he held her fully.
Wyatt stared down at Cassandra’s abandoned beauty with amazement. Desire flushed her breasts and accented the rosy hues of hardened nipples. Her lips curved in a sultry smile of pure delight as he moved inside her. No man could resist such wild innocence, least of all him.
He wished desperately for the high bed of his home so he could keep her like this, pressed against the side of the mattress while he buried himself over and over again into this welcoming haven. But the child’s bed they had shared was too low to maintain this position, and he would not take her against the hardness of the table. Gently he lowered her back to the mattress and knelt over her.
When he could no longer fight his release, he surrendered to the pleasure, feeling his seed flow hot and deep inside her.
They both sighed in pleasure and despair when the knock came at the door.
Chapter 17
Cursing softly, Wyatt kissed Cassandra’s cheek and climbed from the bed. Drawing on his clammy breeches, he strode to the door.
Cassandra’s cadaverous butler waited outside, his expression one of stoicism. “My lady did not return home last night. Has there been some accident?”
“Yes, but she is well. I think it would be best if you have her maid pack her clothes and send them over to the house.”
Cassandra sat up with a start, but having nothing other than a blanket to wear, she could not protest. The sounds of dogs in the distance brought a real
ization of their predicament. She leapt for her clothes as soon as Wyatt closed the door.
“You do not lie fast enough, my lord,” she scolded as she struggled into her damp chemise. “Now Jacob knows we spent the night together. He will keep quiet, I believe, except for telling Lotta, but you had best let me talk to the next one who appears. ‘Go back to the house,’ indeed! I can just imagine what your mother would have to say about that.”
“My mother has no say in the matter. The house is mine and will soon be yours. She will have to make her own choices whether to stay or not.” He reached for his shirt.
At his words, Cassandra stopped fastening her bodice to stare. Wyatt seemed perfectly sane standing there with his shirt half on and half off, his dark hair falling in careless locks across his forehead. He was magnificently made, and she had to stop and gather her wandering thoughts before replying.
“I cannot believe this is St. Wyatt speaking. You cannot set me up as your mistress under your mother’s nose. If you have no respect for her, have some for me.
Wyatt grimaced. “If you require a chaperone so you won’t be calling yourself names, I will send for your mother. It may take time to locate Rupert and obtain an annulment. I have no intention of letting my future wife live in a derelict castle in the meantime.”
Cassandra’s head jerked upward at his calm reproof. “Wife? Have you taken leave of your senses? It is impossible. Rupert will never agree. We will never suit. You are all about in your head to even consider it.”
Wyatt tucked his shirttails into his breeches and began on the last of his buttons. “Rupert will have to agree. Last night I took your virginity. The evidence is right there on that bed. Your marriage was never consummated. There may be other legalities. My solicitor will look into it. There is only one honorable course for us. We will be married as soon as it is legally feasible.”
Panic held her in thrall. Cassandra stared at the man she had given herself to and saw the authority of the honorable earl. She could never marry the Earl of Merrick. He would discover she wasn’t the daughter of a marquess but a bastard. Duncan would blackmail him dry. The dowager countess would have apoplexy. Her own mother would be exposed to shame and ridicule.
All of society would be scandalized, and Merrick would be cast out by his peers. Besides, she could never act the part of proper countess no matter how hard she tried.
He was mad even to consider it. Or as desperate as she had been when she had tried to trick him into it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll not marry you, Wyatt. I’ll be your mistress if you like, but I’ll not spoil both our reputations by doing it so blatantly as to move in with you. Now, if you will step aside, I shall go home before your men discover us.”
The howls of the dogs came closer.
Wyatt glared at her. “You will wait here until I can send my men away. I don’t care if the whole damned world knows we spent the night together, but I’ll not have them looking at you with scorn. When I come back, we can discuss the best manner of breaking the news to everyone.” Reading Cassandra’s rebellious expression, he added warningly, “We will be married, Cass. There is no longer any question about it. Wait here.”
Wearing last night’s damp gown, Cassandra darted out as soon as Wyatt disappeared into the trees. Jacob had apparently obeyed an earl’s orders better than he had ever followed hers and had returned to the house for her clothes.
Panic urged her on. It wasn’t in her nature to consider consequences, but she would never have imagined a proposal even if she had stopped to think. Why couldn’t Wyatt be like her father and brother and take his women as he found them? Did he propose to every woman he bedded?
He hadn’t really proposed. He had ordered. She couldn’t spend a lifetime with a man who ordered her about. She had just discovered freedom.
~*~
Merrick wasn’t surprised when he returned to the cottage to find Cass gone. She had already rejected his offer once. He had hoped these last days had brought them closer and that last night had sealed the bonds, but he should have known better. One didn’t tame a wild bird overnight.
Gathering up the soiled sheet with the evidence of their coupling, Wyatt strengthened his resolve. She had been too innocent to feign passion. There were worse things on which to build a marriage. He was a living example of that.
Returning home only to change clothes and saddle a horse, Wyatt evaded his mother’s hysterical questions and set out for the Eddings estate.
He was met at the door by the lanky butler. The man gave no indication of their earlier meeting but merely informed him that Lady Cassandra was not at home. Wyatt clenched his teeth and refused to budge.
“I must speak with her. Jacob, isn’t it? If she’s not at home, then I must speak with you and the lady’s maid. The business of living in this dangerous pile of rocks has to end.”
That received a flicker of interest from the impassive butler.
“The only chairs are in the kitchen, m’lord. It does not seem proper. I will tell her ladyship that you have been here.”
“I’ve sat in kitchens before. This concerns you as well as Lady Cassandra. Let me in, Jacob, I’m not leaving until I know I have your cooperation.”
Jacob hesitated; then, throwing a glance over his shoulder to Lotta waiting in the shadows, he stepped aside to allow the earl to enter.
Merrick glanced around in hopes of finding some sign of Cass, but he could sense that she wasn’t here. She had known this would be the first place he would look. Disappointed, he followed the servant into the burnt-out remains of the kitchen.
His glance took in everything, from the cracked bowls piled beside the caldron of water to the tense expressions on the servants’ faces. The maid was a bounteous lass with a golden face and a defiant stance. Wyatt couldn’t blame the butler for hovering protectively. Both must harbor some loyalty to Cass or they wouldn’t be here. He came immediately to the point.
“One way or another, I intend to marry Lady Cassandra. Until I can, I want to know that she is safe. That means prying her out of this piece of hell. I am willing to set her up anywhere that she might be comfortable, so long as it is safe. I am asking your cooperation, assuming you have her ladyship’s best interests in mind as well as your own. I am willing to take you into my employ starting today if you are in agreement with me.”
Neither servant hesitated to agree. Merrick kept his smile to himself. Stronger men than Cass had been brought to their knees by nagging servants. Her loyal army had just decamped to the other side.
~*~
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lotta. The room is no more damp than it has been, and I shall not die of consumption for it. Leave off your complaining. You and Jacob have been the souls of misery for days now. What has got into you?” Cassandra jerked on her best morning gown and began to fasten the bodice without her maid’s help.
“You’ve been looking sickly lately, and we worry. You shouldn’t have spent the night in the rain. You ought to see a doctor. You could be ailing for something.”
Cass felt worse than sickly. She felt humiliated, frightened, anxious, and worse: she wanted Wyatt again. She had avoided him at every turn while wishing desperately to fall into his arms. If only she knew how to make him see reason, but the one thing that would certainly convince him of the wrongness of marriage was not her secret to give. She couldn’t humiliate her mother by revealing to Wyatt the indiscretion that had led to her birth. Wyatt would scorn Duncan’s blackmail, and Duncan would shame all of them before the world.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, Lotta. I don’t need a physician. I don’t intend to look for another house. We haven’t the money. If you wish to leave, I will be happy to provide you with references.”
Cassandra dreaded the day when Lotta and Jacob would take her up on that offer. Lotta and Jacob weren’t just servants, they were the only friends she had. But she had chosen this life, not they.
“You can’t go on living like this, no more than
we can,” Lotta protested. “It just ain’t right. You’ll have to take up gambling soon just to keep this place in rags and boards to block the wind. You’d best be thinking about it.”
Cassandra received the same sermon from Jacob when she went in to breakfast, except he declared that Lotta had been feeling poorly lately. And his own joints were feeling the damp. They would need fires to ward off illness, and where would the money come from for coal or kindling?
Cassandra was tempted to reply that they could chop down Merrick’s prized forest, but they were quite apt to do that without her encouragement. And the first blaze they set in the ruined fireplaces would burn down what remained of the house. Just the small fire they kept in the kitchen filled the house with smoke.
Now that she was feeling a little stronger in her resolution, she felt safe in visiting the village again. The hens they had bought were producing a few extra eggs that might be traded for a small pat of butter. Perhaps she would see Bertie, and he could take her to visit Thomas. He should be sitting up in a chair by now, and she had promised to teach him a few card tricks.
Her patience was rewarded. She found Bertie so easily it was almost as if he had been waiting for her. Expressing delight, he agreed to accompany her on her errands if she would accompany him on his. In the meantime, he would send a boy with a message to warn Thomas of their arrival.
Cassandra realized later that she should have been suspicious, but it was the first sunny day in forever, and she was feeling confident.
She might be a fallen woman, but the world didn’t know it yet. That she could still feel Merrick’s possession, knew now what a man could do to a woman’s body, did not seem to be visible for all to see.
Bertie dawdled over his decision at the leather shop, and then he expressed a deep desire for tea before setting out for home. Cassandra enjoyed the fresh scones and jam at the tea shop. She had never thought much about the food put upon the table as long as it settled the pangs of hunger, but a steady diet of Lotta’s meager cooking had left a definite desire for better.
Dash of Enchantment Page 16
