How to Disgrace a Lady

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘It’s barely been a week and a half.’ Merrick laughed. ‘Surely Riordan can manage that long.’

  Ashe slid him a sly look. ‘We haven’t all had the company of Lady Alixe to keep us occupied. Billiards and fishing lose their ability to keep a man fulfilled after a while. It’ll be good to get back to London in a few days and the bountiful supply of willing women. This house party is a bit too chaste for me.’ Ashe nudged Merrick with an elbow. ‘Perhaps you and I should throw a house party, males only, at my hunting box after the Season. We can have Madame Antoinette send over her French girls. We can have a little competition, lay some wagers while we’re laying the girls. How many are you up to, by the way? Have you hit two hundred yet?’

  This was an old score. He and Ashe had long competed for who could claim the most conquests. Actresses, willing ladies of the ton and skilled courtesans of the demi-monde peopled the list of past lovers. But this morning, the claim was somewhat awkward. The lustre of the brag had become tarnished. It didn’t seem to be a point of pride. What would Alixe think? She would not respect such behaviour. What others thought had never bothered him before, but this morning it did, especially when it came to a particular someone. ‘What about you, Ashe? Up to fifty yet?’

  ‘You’re surly, Merrick.’ Ashe laughed. ‘Is the parson’s mousetrap getting a bit dangerous? You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lady Alixe. Is there any hope of getting her up to snuff?’

  Merrick tensed at Ashe’s tone, wanting to defend Alixe. ‘She’s quite decent once you get to know her. You have to understand how difficult her predicament is. She’s being forced to marry. None of this is of her choosing. I find I’ve come to admire her fortitude in the face of adversity.’

  Ashe leaned forwards in deadly earnest. ‘Listen to yourself, Merrick. You make it sound like a Drury Lane drama. She’s being forced to marry? We’re all forced to marry when it comes down to it. It’s the price for being born noble. You and I are the lucky ones. We’re second sons. We might escape that particular fate as long as our brothers don’t see fit to die too soon. But Lady Alixe was fated for the altar the moment she was born. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up as her “predicament”.’ He paused and added a considering look. ‘Unless that doesn’t bother you? There are certain benefits to marrying her. She would solve your cash-flow issues.’

  ‘I don’t have a cash-flow problem.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that requires the possession of money to start with.’ Ashe laughed. ‘You are the slyest old fox, Merrick. I think you will marry her, after all, with just the right amount of remorse to convince old Folkestone you hadn’t planned it this way all along.’

  ‘That is hardly my intention,’ Merrick ground out, fighting a rising urge to take a shot at Ashe’s perfect jaw. He didn’t like thinking of Alixe in those terms. She was more than someone to be bartered away. She was full of passion and life, intelligence and spirit. He didn’t want to see that quashed by a heartless marriage to him or to anyone not of her choosing.

  ‘You’re not really her protector, you know,’ Ashe drawled. Merrick recognised that drawl. Ashe was about to make some profound statement. ‘Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re a knight in shining armour awakening her to her true self, that whatever you’ve been doing with her these past days is in her best interest. You’re not on her side. You’re leading her away from everything she professes to want in order to save your own freedom. If she’s as smart as you say she is, she’ll work that out eventually. Be ready for it. Don’t kid yourself into thinking otherwise.’

  Because she’ll hate you for it. Merrick heard the unspoken message. He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. She was probably upstairs hating him right now. By his calculations, Meg should have presented the new wardrobe already. It would be enough to get Alixe started in London. The other half would be waiting for her once she arrived. After the debacle with the riding habit, he’d sent measurements and style notes to a dressmaker in London for evening wear and ball gowns. The other gowns had been supplied by a local draper. It had been rather enjoyable spending someone else’s money and the earl had been all too glad to pay the bill.

  Alixe would look stunning in her no-expense-spared wardrobe. But Ashe’s comment gouged. He wasn’t Alixe’s protector. More honestly, he was her betrayer. Thanks to his efforts, she was well garbed and, with her funds, she’d have the choice of the right kind of husband this go-round, a choice she couldn’t refuse for a third time. He didn’t want to betray her. He was not a malicious man by nature, but if he didn’t help her find a decent husband, it would be far worse to be married to him and his family full of secrets.

  ‘Look at that,’ Ashe murmured appreciatively, nodding at a point over Merrick’s shoulder. ‘Exactly what have you been doing with Lady Alixe? You might just be free of the parson’s mouse trap yet.’

  Merrick turned. Alixe stood on the verandah, wearing the sprigged muslin he’d told Meg to lay out. She looked exquisite. The pink-ribbon trim beneath her breasts drew the eye ever so subtly upwards to the high, firm quality of those breasts while the tiny lace trim on the low-scooped neckline of the bodice reminded the looker those breasts belonged to a lady. Her hair had been simply styled into a soft chignon at the base of her neck. Everything about her was cameo perfect. Alixe did look beautiful. She also looked angry.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘May I have a word with you?’ Alixe approached the table, her colour high and flushing her cheeks delightfully.

  ‘You must know it is highly unorthodox for a young lady to approach a gentleman,’ Merrick began in low teasing tones, noting with a surreptitious sweep of the verandah the amount of eyes turned in their direction.

  ‘You must know it is highly unorthodox to take a lady’s clothes,’ Alixe hissed.

  ‘Oh, my, Merrick, whatever have you done now?’ Ashe stifled a chuckle.

  Alixe shot Ashe a quelling look. ‘Well? Might I have that word?’ She trained her gaze on Merrick, her foot tapping. ‘I must speak to you right away.’

  Merrick scanned the verandah. He didn’t want a scene. His best option for privacy was the gardens that lay at the foot of the shallow verandah stairs. ‘Perhaps a walk in the garden would settle my breakfast. Would you care to join me?’

  ‘I want my clothes back,’ Alixe began the moment they reached the bottom of the wide stairs.

  ‘Why? You look perfectly lovely in this ensemble. You cannot argue that this outfit is less fetching than that olive sack you tramp around the countryside in.’

  ‘Because they’re mine and you had no right to take them!’

  Tears threatened in her eyes, a reaction that made Merrick feel decisively uncomfortable. This was one area of the female mystery he’d not yet solved with any great success.

  ‘You couldn’t go to London looking like a farmer’s daughter,’ Merrick offered. No woman he’d ever known would balk at the size of the wardrobe he’d had delivered to Alixe’s room. He’d counted on that assumption to overcome any opposition.

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t want to go to London at all.’ Merrick heard the frustration welling up in her voice. She’d all but stamped her foot. This wasn’t about clothes. This was about all the things that had been taken from her in the last two weeks. The urge to protect surged strong and hard within him. Alixe Burke was getting to him in the most unexpected ways. He’d not expected to care so deeply about what happened to her. He’d always thought of himself as a selfish creature. It was surprising to realise otherwise.

  ‘Alixe …’ he began, looking for a way to apologise. But Alixe was too impatient.

  ‘No, don’t say anything. There’s nothing you can say. There’s nothing you can do. This is all your fault, you and your stupid wager with Redfield. You never should have taken it.’

  ‘If not me, then it would have been someone else.’ Merrick stopped strolling and turned her to face him. ‘Don’t you see? Redfield was out to get you. Someone that night would have tak
en the wager.’ He had yet to gather up any substantial proof of that. Redfield had spent the house party dutifully charming the matrons and putting on a well-mannered performance that suggested he was all he purported to be. But Merrick’s instincts were seldom wrong.

  ‘So it is inevitable. I am to accept my fate and go meekly to London.’

  ‘Quite possibly, my dear, although it gives me no pleasure to say it. However, no one says you have to hate it.’

  Alixe’s brow made a small furrow. ‘Isn’t the expression “no one says you have to like it”?’

  ‘That’s what everyone says. It’s not what I say. Why not enjoy the experience? Enjoy the beautiful clothes, enjoy the glittering parties. Enjoy each day, Alixe. Don’t fret too much about the future, it spoils the present.’ Merrick looked around the garden. ‘Here’s a perfect example. We have this glorious day spread before us and no plans. Let’s drive down to the village and help with your historical society. Fillmore and your Meg can come to make it decent. We can pack a picnic to enjoy on the way home.’ He didn’t wait for an argument. ‘Go get your things and meet me on the drive in twenty minutes.’

  The fair itself was to be held on the green, a wide space atop the west cliffs. The cliff end of the green was edged by a promenade overlooking the sea and Alixe couldn’t imagine a more striking setting. With the blue sky overhead and the bustling excitement of friends and neighbours on the green, it was hard to stay angry at Merrick for spiriting away her clothes, especially when she felt wonderful in the new sprigged muslin. She’d dressed in her plain gowns for so long she’d forgotten how much fun it was to dress up.

  Merrick helped her down from the gig and a group of workers waved them over to the booth being assembled by the historical society. It was a heady moment to be swept up into the group, everyone exclaiming over her translation. Headier still were the hours that followed. Alixe put an apron on over her gown and threw herself into organising the displays with the other women while Merrick joined the men in constructing the wooden frame for the booth and hanging bunting.

  His willingness to join in came as a surprise. He was always immaculately turned out and building fair booths was not the immaculate work of a gentleman. But Merrick had not hesitated. His coat had come off and his shirt sleeves had gone up. She caught sight of him with a hammer in one hand and nails clenched between his teeth. She could not help but stare.

  It was hard to imagine London’s premier rake engaged in such work. Then again, it was hard to conceive of London’s premier rake doing most of what he’d done in the past two weeks. He had not balked at playing cards with Mrs Pottinger’s group or cringed at donating himself to the cause of charming wallflowers at the house party. Neither had he shied away from his pledge to her father. In their own ways, these were the actions of a man who was more honourable than he might first appear.

  ‘Your fellow’s a handsome man,’ Letty Good right commented beside her, sorting through a pile of sixteenth-century bonnets someone had donated to the display.

  ‘He’s not my fellow.’ Alixe quickly returned her gaze to the items in front of her where her eyes should have been all along.

  ‘Isn’t he?’ Letty reached for another pile of miscellaneous clothing. ‘A man doesn’t spend the day sweating in the sun for no good reason. Other than you, I can’t see what reason he has for helping out. He’s not from around here. This village fair is nothing to him. I know men, my dear, and this one is interested in you.’

  ‘Well, maybe.’ What else could she say? She couldn’t very well explain the arrangement between her and Merrick. At least it wasn’t an outright lie. Merrick was interested in her, just for different reasons than the ones Letty presumed. Letty did know men. She was one of those lush-figured, earthy women that managed to be pretty while possessing a rather robust figure. She’d had her pick of men in the village at sixteen, had married a local farmer of good standing in their little community and now, ten years later, trailed a string of seven rambunctious children behind her whenever she went to market.

  ‘There’s no maybe about it. He’s smitten with you. Look at him.’

  Alixe looked up to see Merrick flash her a smile, nails and all. It was a ridiculous grin and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘He’s a charmer.’ Letty clucked. ‘Let me give you some advice. Don’t give in too soon. The charmers all like a challenge whether they know it or not.’

  ‘I don’t mean to give in at all,’ Alixe retorted. But the idea was secretly tempting. He played his role so convincingly, it would be easy to believe Merrick was falling in love with her.

  Letty tossed her a coy look. ‘Giving in is all the fun. Of course, you’ll give in, just don’t do it too soon.’

  ‘I’m leaving for London when Mother’s house party is done. I expect I’ll meet some other, more suitable men,’ Alixe said with a touch of primness.

  ‘Unsuitable men are more fun and they make the best husbands once they’ve reformed. Take my Bertram, for example, a scalawag if there ever was one. Why, before he met me, he was in the public house every night, drinking and playing cards. His father had despaired of him ever becoming a serious landowner. But then he met me …’

  Alixe smiled politely. She’d heard the stories about Bertram and Letty before. Her thoughts could safely meander from the conversation. There was soundness in Letty’s counsel. There was no one more unsuitable than Merrick and he was extraordinary amounts of fun. Her life had been considerably more entertaining since he’d entered it. But she mustn’t forget the price. She must never forget the price. He was going to entertain her all the way to the altar where he’d leave her to another man. For which she should be thankful. There was no amount of reform that would make him into an exemplary husband who did not stray from his wife. Jamie had said as much when he’d warned her. Based on what she’d seen of Merrick, she was inclined to believe her brother.

  Merrick came striding towards them, his shirt splotched with sweat and his hair tousled. He’d never looked more handsome or more real than he did at that moment. The realness of him was far more intoxicating than any sartorial manufacturing could create. His grin was easy. ‘The booth is complete, if you would like to start bringing your displays over.’

  A half-hour later, the displays were arranged to satisfaction, her translation in pride of place at the front in a glass case Vicar Daniels had taken from the church.

  ‘I hope that’s not the church.’ Merrick pointed to a large ruin on the edge of the Leas and everyone laughed.

  ‘No, that’s the church of St Mary and St Eanswythe,’ Vicar Daniels explained. ‘What you’re looking at are the ruins of the original Abbey. It was destroyed around 1095. But there’s a priory now and monks still live there, although I suspect they will be moved in the near future to a less-ancient home.’

  ‘We are hoping to do some restoring of the Abbey. The project will be extensive. We’ve been raising money for quite some time,’ Alixe put in. This was a project dear to her. St Eanswythe was not only a local saint, but a woman who had challenged a king for the right to found and rule an abbey in a man’s world. ‘We’re nearly there. We’re hoping this display will help generate the last few donations.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of St Eanswythe,’ Merrick admitted with a grin.

  ‘Our Alixe can tell you all about her. She’s made the saint a special point of study.’ Letty smiled mischievously. Alixe would have pinched her if she’d been standing closer. ‘You should show Lord St Magnus the ruins and tell him the stories of Eanswythe’s miracles.’

  Merrick complied, immediately understanding Letty’s game. ‘I would love to see the ruins. Perhaps you and I might find a place to picnic in the shade while we tour your landmarks.’

  ‘We can’t abandon everyone when there’s work to be done,’ Alixe protested. The last time she’d picnicked with Merrick had been disastrous for her. He’d kissed her at the Roman villa.

  ‘Off with you.’ Letty made a shooing g
esture with her hands. ‘There’s hardly anything left to be done and you’ve worked through lunch.’ The group agreed, making short work of Alixe’s last line of defence.

  ‘Resistance is useless, my dear,’ Merrick said smugly, tucking her arm through his and leading her away from the safety of the group. ‘Relax, it’s just lunch, Alixe. We’re going to talk about ham sandwiches and lemonade. What could happen?’

  ‘Plenty happened the last time we picnicked,’ Alixe reminded him sharply. Being in a group of her mother’s house guests had not protected her from her flight of fancy at the villa.

  ‘Yes, but now you have your agreement in place. What could possibly happen with your friends a mere shout away and Fillmore and Meg to hand? Really, Alixe, you make me out to be a wolf.’

  Merrick-logic was all too persuasive. He made it sound safe and reasonable. What could happen indeed? Regardless of the facts, she knew better. Even the most usual of events turned into adventures when Merrick was around. A naughty, rebellious part of her could hardly wait to find out—the part that wanted to take his advice and not worry about the future, the part that wanted to appreciate the present. Perhaps Merrick was right. If she couldn’t change the inevitable, she might as well enjoy the journey. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the fact that she was wearing a new dress, the weather was fine and a handsome man wanted her attentions? Why shouldn’t she dice with the devil just a little, just once?

  ‘You shouldn’t have done it,’ Merrick said between bites of cheese. ‘You should have followed your instincts and resisted. You have very fine instincts about people, Alixe.’

  They’d found a place under the shade of a leafy maple in the corner of the ruined churchyard. Their picnic lay spread out before them: a cheese wheel of cheddar, a loaf of brown bread and a basket of pears. Merrick had stretched his long limbs and lay back, hands behind his head. Alixe wished she could afford the luxury of doing the same. It would be heaven to lie back on the blanket and look up at the sky through the leafy canopy of trees. But a lady did not indulge, especially not when it would mean lying next to a man.