by Alexia Praks
“You really want to know, don’t you?” he asked, smoothing her cheek with the back of his fingers.
“Yes. Please answer me. Do you think that this lover of Claire’s is the one who did it? Beat the girl, I mean.” Her eyes were large and hopeful of a confirmation.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” He sighed.
“But don’t you think that it’s strange that there had been a lot of accidents. I mean first you were shot at, and thank God it only hit your arm, and then there was that accident at the race and the horse being deliberately poisoned, and now this.” She sat quietly for a moment and then said, “I have something that I think is important to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“You see, the other night when I was out, I hmm—” She closed her eyes and saw that image again. She wondered if she should tell him about that night.
Merrick stared down at her and saw the dilemma playing about her face. He waited. At last, she continued as though her decision was made.
“You see, I was out, and I saw Claire and this man. Well, you see, I think they were making love,” she mumbled, and more loudly, she said, “and when Betty mentioned about her lover I thought that he might be the one who did it, you know, to get rid of the baby. You know, being a well-bred gentleman and all, he wouldn’t want to have a maid as his wife, let alone her having his child, too. So you see ’tis obvious that he might be the one who did it. But it was so cruel of him to do such a thing, beating a girl almost to death,” she explained, bashing her own fists together.
“And how did you know that a gentleman like this man didn’t care or love Claire for who she is and beat her almost to death so that her child wouldn’t live?” he asked, very curious as to how she came by all this knowledge.
“Well, all well-bred gentlemen are like that, aren’t they? I mean, when you are well-bred, you wouldn’t want to have a wife and a child that belonged to the lower class. That would give society something to talk about. I mean, you would do that, too, wouldn’t you? You and Lady Anne are perfect for each other. She’s very rich and beautiful,” she said half to herself for she knew he would never love her. She was looking far into the distance. She would not blame him when he married Anne. After all, they suited each other. Besides, she didn’t want to be like her mother. She didn’t want to have a child without a father. She didn’t want to keep running for the rest of her life because the other woman wanted her dead.
Merrick pulled her face around to look at him. He saw tears misting her eyes. She stared up at him. There, Merrick saw it in her lovely eyes, the very eyes that haunted him day and night, the eyes that now spoke of love for him.
He cupped her face in his large hands. Christine looked down, knowing that she showed too much of her feelings just then. He nudged her face up to his, and he lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. When he was done, he didn’t lift his head away from hers. He stayed there; they were forehead to forehead and nose to nose.
“My sweet, how could you ever say such a thing to me? I would never do such a thing. Do you think I am one of those men?” he whispered, his hot breath fanning her lips.
“I mean there was Lady Ferguson. She’s your lover, and you don’t intend to marry her, and everybody knows that you will marry Lady Anne, in time,” Christine explained.
“My sweet, Maria is a different matter. She is not the marrying type.”
“Do you think Claire was doing that kind of job, too? But she doesn’t look the type, you know, so nice and all. And besides, her employers might not take kindly to her, knowing that she was having a baby and all with a gentleman that they perhaps know well,” she commented reasonably.
Merrick absorbed this information quietly.
“Christine, you said you saw Claire and this man,” he said.
She nodded and blushed.
“Who was the man?” he asked, putting his hand on her warm face and soothing her soft skin to calm her down.
“He’s one of your guests. He doesn’t speak very nicely to you. He’s the young Mr. Wilson. Why does he hate you so? I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“I suppose sometimes people just dislike each other for no apparent reason at all,” he said, looking at her nodding her head as if she knew what this meant. “Christine?” he began.
“Yes?” she replied casually. Merrick put his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
“Do you remember that night when I saved you from Mr. Brad’s whipping?”
She nodded and wondered what he was going on about now.
“Do you remember saying that if I wanted something from you, you would do it, do whatever I ask of you for repayment? There is something that I want from you.”
“What is it, Merrick? What is it that you want? I will gladly give,” she said, looking at him, loving the way his dark hair swayed in the gentle breeze. “Is it something that you want badly?”
“Aye, very badly. In fact, achingly badly,” he said seriously.
“All right. You may proceed.” She moved closer to him and touched his dark hair at the back of his head.
Merrick loved it, loved her small hand touching him like that. He moved his head closer to hers and said, “Here is what I want. I want you to be my wife,” he whispered.
Christine registered this information in shocked silence. Her heart was hammering away in her chest. Could she have heard it right? Nay, it couldn’t possibly be true.
“Merrick, what did you say?” she asked him, looking at him with large eyes.
“Would you be my wife?” he asked and then kissed her nape with his mouth very slowly, his tongue sweetly playing about her skin, giving her overwhelming sensations.
She pushed him away from her, refusing even to think of being his wife. It wasn’t right. She didn’t want to be like her mother.
“Merrick, ’tis no time to jest. Do you realize what you have just said?” she cried, tears misting her eyes. “No, sir, I think you are very sick today. Why just look at you—”
Merrick pulled her head toward him and kissed her soundly on the lips.
This was not right, Christine thought. He could not possibly ask her to marry him. For God’s sake, their statuses were very different, and she didn’t want to follow her mother’s footsteps. She tried with all her might to push him away. The harder she tried, the tighter he captured her. She hit her fist against his chest. He caught her hands and imprisoned them.
“Merrick, ’tis obviously ludicrous, and what about Lady Anne?” she asked.
“My sweet Christine, have you no mercy? Denying my wish?”
“But, Merrick, you couldn’t possibly let society laugh at you. I am but a commoner. They will laugh at you, and that, sir, would hurt you very much. I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. And I don’t want to hurt myself, she thought.
“My sweet, you are denying my wish, and by doing so you’ve hurt me very much. I’ve lost love once before, and I don’t ever intend to lose it again.” He took hold of her small hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.
“But, sir, what about Lady Anne? She will be very disappointed if you don’t offer her marriage.”
“My sweet, would you wish me to be miserable for the rest of my life?” he justified, placing her hands to his heart. “Do you want me to be miserable for the rest of my life then?”
“Nay, Merrick, but still there are other well-bred ladies,” she reasoned, lowering her eyes in confusion.
“Aye, so there are other girls in England, but do you wish me to marry somebody I do not love?” he asked.
“No, sir, I would prefer that you marry someone you love and care for. But perhaps you haven’t found her yet, so best if you wait,” she suggested.
“But I’ve found her,” he said softly near her ear, his breath tickling her skin.
“Merrick!” she gasped.
“I love you, my sweet. Is that a good enough reason for me to ask you to marry me?” he said, cupping her
face in his hands.
She was silent for a moment, breathing deeply. Did she hear it right? That he loved her? She looked up at him then, his eyes showing his raw feelings for her. She crushed her face into his chest then. He folded his arms round her, imprisoning her there.
“Would you be my wife?” he asked again.
“But, Merrick, society, they would think you mad to marry a girl like me.”
“To hell with society. I don’t care what they say.”
“You don’t?” She looked at him.
He nodded and said, “Now, what is your answer?”
“I can’t.”
He was quiet for a moment as he looked at her and then he asked, “Why not?”
She was almost in tears as she tried to find excuses. “I—” She shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks.
He touched her chin gently, tilted her face up, and gazed deep into her misty eyes. “Do you love me?” he asked.
She widened her eyes and blinked, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She nodded and said, “Aye.”
“Good answer,” he said, “because you’re going to be my wife.” He grabbed for her left hand and pushed a ring onto her third finger. She widened her eyes and stared at the large, princess-cut diamond ring.
SEVENTEEN
“We thank you so much for finding Claire,” Lady Queensbury said.
“Such a tragic thing to have happened,” Amelia stated.
“Aye, Amelia. How fortunate for you that it was not your maid that such a thing has happened to,” Anne exclaimed.
“I agree with you there, Lady Anne, how fortunate for my maid,” Amelia retorted with her eyebrows raised.
“I do hope no more mischief is going to happen, my lord,” Mrs. Anderson said as she seated herself beside Merrick. “Come sit down, Sarah. ’Tis not polite to stand before the master of the house.”
“Ah, Miss Green, I do hope that you have enjoyed your dinner this evening?” Merrick said.
“Yes, my lord, dinner was very enjoyable this evening,” the woman replied. “My lord, is there something special that you’re going to announce at the ball?”
“Yes, I have an announcement to make at the ball,” Merrick said.
“And what is this announcement, my lord, pray tell?” Mrs. Anderson put in.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson, you’ll have to wait and see.” He stood up then and bowed at them. “If you ladies will excuse me,” he said and left them both to wonder.
“Auntie, what kind of announcement is he talking about?” Miss Green said.
“I have no doubt the announcement will be about his engagement to one of the young ladies in this room,” Lady Queensbury stated matter-of-factly.
“Indeed, that is what I thought, Lady Queensbury, and who do you think this young lady will be?” Mrs. Anderson asked.
“I have no doubt who the young lady will be, Mrs. Anderson.” Lady Queensbury looked toward her daughter. Anne was deep in conversation with Merrick. Mrs. Anderson and Miss Green looked in that direction.
“I see what you mean, Lady Queensbury,” Mrs. Anderson said.
“I’m sure you can see as well as everybody else here what is going on between the two of them,” the countess said, smiling triumphantly.
Two hours later, the guests were retiring. Merrick was at the door when Maria linked her arm with his. “I must say I am not at all tired. Perhaps I will see you later then?”
“Good night, Maria,” Merrick said and unlinked their arms.
Maria felt lost and unwanted. She put her face up toward his as in an offering, but he merely smiled at her and left her standing in the drawing room doorway. She took a deep breath and stalked off to her bedroom. There she angrily slammed the door shut. She ran to the bed and sat down.
“What is it, Lady Maria? Why are you so mad?” Kate asked.
“Why am I so mad? Why, oh, why is Merrick not coming to me? It has been months, and not once has he come to me. Lord, is he really falling for that girl?” Maria said through gritted teeth.
“My Lady, mayhap it’s because of the guests, and that’s why he couldn’t come. I mean, what if they found out?” Kate informed her logically.
“You fool. Everybody knows that I’m his mistress,” Maria said angrily.
“Do calm down, my sweet. After all, you are just his mistress, so you can’t expect him to come to you now with his potential bride right under his very nose,” a masculine voice said calmly from the doorway.
Maria turned around to see the man moving toward her. She stared up at him and bit her lip.
He strolled in, stopped in front of her, and said, “After all, if he isn’t here to keep you company, then I assume I could be a substitute?”
She thought for a moment and said, “I suppose you are right. He couldn’t have come to me with all his potential brides right under his nose, no doubt.”
“Yes, my dear,” he said as he caressed her bare shoulder.
“Hmm, I suppose you could be a good substitute for tonight.” She looked up at the blond-haired man and offered her mouth to him.
He gladly took it and kissed her roughly. She pushed him away, but he caught her and claimed her lips again.
* * *
Merrick opened the door, slid in, and closed it quietly behind him. He leaned his head back against it and shut his eyes. He heaved a sigh of relief and opened his eyes again. There, on his bed was a sight that shocked him to the core of his heart.
He caught his breath and widened his eyes in surprise. All he could do at that moment was stare. He just stood there like a fool, gazing at his bride-to-be sitting up on his bed. Her legs were tucked beneath her, her hands folded gently and delicately in front of her, and she smiled up at him adorably. Her brown curls tumbled down about her face, which was blushing, and her eyes sparkled with happiness. She was wearing a white nightshirt that was far too large for her, and the sleeves were so long that they covered her whole hands.
Then he came to his senses, and he awkwardly walked to her. Once he reached the side of the enormous bed, he dropped to his knees in front of her for his legs were too weak from the sight of her to carry him any farther. All he could do was to stare at her, drinking in her beauty. She refreshed him like a cold mountain spring.
Lord, she smelt great. She smelt like lavender.
“Did you have a nice evening, Merrick?” she asked softly and got up. “I have prepared your night outfit. Mr. Paris has already retired.”
Merrick raised his brows and chuckled. “Ah, my soon-to-be bride is here in my bedroom before her wedding day.”
Christine frowned at that. “Pardon, sir, but I do not understand what that means, and besides, I like doing my duties for you,” she said and proceeded to undo his cravat.
Merrick laughed again and said, “Aye, but in a month’s time you will be my wife. Besides, you shouldn’t wait on me,” he commented thickly, licking his dried lips.
“But I still want to do my duties for you. I like it.” She smiled and then blushed. “Hmm, sir, I err,” she hesitated.
“You?” he urged, and his eyes strayed up and down her person, examining her body.. He swallowed hard. It almost choked him.
The shirt was too big for her so that the neckline barely reached her chest, and half of her upper breasts were exposed. He could tell she didn’t wear anything underneath for he saw her nipples showing beneath the thin fabric. He could feel his mouth water and his groin harden uncomfortably with desire.
He cleared his throat and said, “Those sleeves are too long for you; come here.” He took possession of her hand and started to fold up the long sleeve. As he did so, his eyes kept straying to her slightly visible breasts. He controlled himself so he would not throw her on the bed and ravish her.
When he finished, Christine brought her fingers up to the top of this shirt collar and started to undo the row of buttons very slowly. Merrick’s nerves were on edge. It was too seductive, and he knew she didn’t know she was doing it. As he d
idn’t want to just stand there and expect her to do her work while slowly playing havoc with his nerves, he brought his large fingers up and stroked the side of her neck.
Christine shivered in response. She got down to the middle of his chest when Merrick gently caressed the valley of her breasts. She sucked in her breath and looked up at him.
His eyes were half-closed as he gazed down at her.
Her nerves tightened in response.
Merrick trailed his fingers toward her nipple, and once he reached his target, he started caressing it. Christine groaned with pleasure.
Merrick’s head came down to hers, and he took her lips.
Christine’s knees buckled, and she would have fallen if not for his support. His hot mouth was firing her nerves. When she opened her mouth, he slid in his tongue.
Oh God, she thought, she was going to die. This pleasure he was giving her was too unbearable.
Merrick moved his head back and stared at her. He smiled when he saw her ravishing beauty. Her eyes were bright violet, her lips were swollen red, and her cheeks were flushed. He bent down, picked her up, and carried her to the bed.
“Merrick?”
“Hmm, love?”
“Why… why do you make me feel so nice?”
He looked at her and saw her blush intensify. He laughed. “It’s the way it is, my sweet. Don’t you like it?”
“Aye, I like it very much, but I’m not sure.”
He gently laid her on the bed.
“Merrick? I don’t know. I don’t understand all this,” she said, her voice quivering as she felt the beautiful sensation of his hands stroking her collarbone.
“Don’t worry, love. You just trust me, all right? I won’t hurt you,” he assured her and kissed her where he had stroked her on the collarbone. He moved his hot, sweet mouth lower toward her cleavage. He kissed, licked, and stroked her soft, sweet skin with his tongue and lips. Hastily he started to remove the shirt from her shoulder, slipping it away to reveal her petal-white and soft skin. Then he quickly and expertly unbuttoned the shirt and pushed it back from her, exposing the beautiful body beneath to his eyes.
