The Mysterious Merriana

by Carolynn Carey

  “Oh yes,” he said with clenched teeth. “Yes, I hated her that much and a thousand times more. She and Sylvester. They were the fortunate ones. They were born with the handsome faces and the charming manners. Sylvester had both the title and the funds to enjoy it, and your mother had both Sylvester’s love and that of the powerful and rich Comte de Mérchan as well. But they both underestimated me. I might not be as good-looking or have such engaging ways, but I was clever. Yes, I was very much more clever than they ever knew. And I wanted them both dead, for reasons that they could never have understood.”

  “I think my mother must have guessed,” Merriana told him, fully aware that to anger him could prove dangerous. But she was sure he intended her to die that day anyway, so she had little to lose, after all. “I always found it hard to understand why mother feared so much for my safety at the hands of an unknown enemy of my father’s. Few men hate so deeply that they will transfer that enmity to a man’s children.”

  Her uncle glanced at her and then, inexplicably, smiled. “It may surprise you to know that I never hated you or your brother, although I found you both damn inconvenient. I kept an eye on both of you throughout the years, you see. I was quite upset when your mother managed to send Charles to live with our brother. I knew Sylvester doted on him and would leave him all the money that should have been willed to my son. But my hands were tied. If Charles was to die, it had to look like an accident, and realistic-looking accidents are hard to arrange.

  “Later I hoped he would meet his death during his spying activities, but he seems to lead a charmed life. I even arranged for an ‘accident’ when he was on his way to meet the Earl of Cardleigh at that out-of-the-way inn, but he only broke a leg and not his neck as I had hoped.”

  Merriana felt a chill that extended deep into her bones, for she knew she was talking to a man who was, at best, on the fringes of sanity. No man in his right mind could talk so calmly of planning and wishing for the deaths of those who had done him no wrong. He appeared to enjoy the topic, however, so she decided to try to extend the conversation. Besides, she was curious. After all, her entire life thus far had revolved around hiding from this man. Why should she not learn as much as possible from him? “When did you know of my existence?” she asked.

  Her uncle laughed, almost jovially. “Within days after you were born,” he chortled. “Your mother thought she was so clever, but I had my own set of spies watching her. She never deceived me, but she was quite effective in hiding your birth from the one man who might have been able to protect you—her beloved Sylvester.”

  “Were you aware, then, that Jacques had left the estate with me and that we lived all of those years in Paris?”

  “Certainly,” her uncle answered with a smug smile. “And as long as you were in Paris, you were no threat to me. I must admit that it was a shock when old Jacques finally succeeded in getting you to England and, against all odds, you convinced Sylvester that you were really his niece. Of course, it didn’t take me long to figure out a means to turn all of that to my advantage. You have guessed, I suppose, that the young woman claiming to be you is really my daughter.”

  “Charles guessed,” Merriana admitted. “Do you think that with me out of the way, she will be accepted as the real Merriana de Mérchan?”

  “They can’t prove she is not you,” he replied. “And, if I know Sylvester, he will prefer to accept her rather than to take a chance on turning away our dear sister’s child. Perhaps I should explain that I have gone to great lengths to discredit you in the eyes of all of your protectors.”

  Merriana already suspected as much, but she carefully feigned ignorance and was rewarded with an explanation from her uncle. Much of his story she had already surmised, but the ransom note was a surprise. The realism of her distress appeared to delight him.

  “So you see, my dear niece, although you are free to return to your friends, I would not advise it. You would no doubt be arrested, not only for kidnapping but also for murder as well.”

  He laughed at the expression of horror in her eyes. “Yes, I said murder. You see, the drugged wine which you gave to your young friend would have killed three men had it been divided amongst them. There is no hope that she can survive.”

  Merriana quickly looked away from her uncle’s leering grin lest he read the hope that must be reflected in her eyes. She was mentally trying to calculate the amount of wine she had poured from the cup into the dirt of that cottage floor. Had it been enough to spare Antonia? She prayed silently that it had been. But would she live long enough to know the answer to that question?

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked her uncle in a voice that was not quite steady.

  “Why, nowhere, my dear.” His surprise at her question was so obviously feigned as to be a mockery. “Did you think you were my prisoner? Or did you think, perhaps, that I intended to kill you? That was my intention, of course, when I followed you to Portsmouth and attempted to persuade you to go with me to France. Unfortunately, since that time, I have rashly promised not to harm a hair on your pretty little head. I may be many things, but I am not a man to back down on a promise, so I was left with no alternative but to discredit you. Actually, I think I prefer this to your death. There is a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that although you are free, you are not at liberty to return to Sylvester.”

  He suddenly pulled on his reins and brought his horse to a halt. “Now, my dear, since you appear to understand your position, I fear it is time for us to go our separate ways. I cannot, you will understand, have a fleeing felon traveling with me. I suggest that you head for the coast and attempt to find a ship to take you to the continent or perhaps even to the former colonies.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. “No, don’t shake your head, my child. This is not part of the ransom money, if that is what you’re thinking. This is from my own funds, and I would advise you to take it. Your future may hold many hardships, and there is no sense in creating more for yourself than necessary. You will need funds if you’re to pay for passage on a ship that will get you safely and quickly out of England.”

  Merriana had no intention of leaving England, but she didn’t want her uncle to guess this, so she reluctantly reached for the money he was offering. “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured, allowing her uncle to drop the coins into her hand. “Could you direct me toward the coast?”

  This her uncle did with another smug smile and a pointing finger. “Farewell, niece. With your looks, I’m sure you can find some gentleman willing to help you live happily ever after.” He laughed as she turned to ride toward the direction he had indicated, and Merriana felt his eyes boring into her back until she was out of his view.

  Neither of them realized that another party had witnessed their apparent amiable parting. They had come into Justin’s view just as Merriana was accepting a handful of coins from her uncle.

  Chapter 21

  “Blast, blast, blast,” Merriana muttered to herself for perhaps the fiftieth time. “Why wasn’t I born with a sense of direction? Why?”

  She’d been riding on narrow trails through dense woodland for over two and a half hours since leaving her uncle. If, when she and her uncle had parted, she’d been able to turn and ride straight back toward Hilltops, she might have been able to find her way, but because of the necessity of riding in the direction of the coast until she felt safe in doubling back, she’d become hopelessly lost.

  “I swear we’ve passed that same elm three times now,” Merriana informed her unresponsive horse, “and it looks as though a storm is rolling in. I may end up dying today after all. Wouldn’t Uncle Ernest find that amusing?”

  Then, more hopefully, “Wait, I think I hear the sound of running water. Let’s investigate, you sluggard.”

  The water had once been a river, but an earthquake some fifty years earlier had diverted much of it into a subsidiary so that what was left in the original riverbed could now be described as no more than a stream.
The sound of falling water that had attracted Merriana’s attention had at one time been a respectable waterfall supporting a thriving mill, but the waterfall had been reduced to a trickle and the mill had long ago been abandoned, although it was still in good repair. “Perhaps we can at least find a place to stay dry during the storm,” she muttered to the horse, who surprised her by stepping up his reluctant pace until he reached the stream where he lowered his head to drink.

  “An excellent idea,” Merriana said as she slid from the saddle and cupped her hands to catch some of the cool water to slake her own thirst. “Now, I only wish we had something to eat.”

  Merriana’s desire was destined to be half fulfilled. They found plenty of food for her horse when she led him inside the mill. Some prosperous farmer had obviously kept the mill in repair in order to use it as a storage place for his excess hay, for the first huge room Merriana entered was half filled with it. “Well,” she told her companion grumpily, “this is your lucky day, at least. I wish I could say the same for myself. But why am I complaining? Listen to that wind. The storm will break any minute, and I will at least be dry.”

  She hurried in the dimming light to gather a pile of hay for the horse and then, while he was happily munching, she spread more of hay into a larger pile on which she could lie down.

  Merriana had not realized just how tired she was until she stretched out on her improvised bed. “This is almost cozy,” she called to the preoccupied horse. “The sky is getting black and I feel sure the storm is going to be a very bad one. I’m glad we’re not out in that.”

  “It delights me to find you so contented.” The voice that came from the direction of the doorway sounded anything but delighted, and Merriana, scrambling awkwardly in the hay in an attempt to get to her knees, found herself being pushed back down with the toe of a man’s riding boot.

  “Justin?” she asked, thrilled to think she had recognized his voice. She strained to see the face of the man who stood over her, but the light was now so dim that she could distinguish only the form of a well-built man, and from her position on her back, he seemed unusually tall.

  “You were expecting someone else?” he asked in a tone that was so bitterly pleasant that it managed to send chills of fear scrambling up and down her spine. In her momentary joy at hearing his voice in this godforsaken place, she had almost forgotten that he must think her guilty of kidnapping and perhaps even murder. Dear heavens! How could she have forgotten, even for an instant? Fear and dread tightened her throat, and long seconds passed before she could form the question that was screaming in her brain.

  “Antonia?” she asked at last in a voice constricted by fear.

  “She’ll live,” he answered shortly. He still stood over her, looking down. It was too dark for Merriana to see the expression on his face, but she could feel the anger emanating from him in waves of blistering heat.

  “Justin,” she began, “I was on my way back to Hilltops, but—”

  “You chose a circuitous route, my love,” he interrupted. “Perhaps you will explain why you wished to go by the coast on your way?”

  “I’ve been lost, Justin. You see, my uncle wanted me to go to the coast and so I had to pretend to head that way, but I really intended to go back to Hilltops.” She realized she was babbling and stopped, trying to get a rein on her irrational fear. Or was it irrational after all? Justin’s fury was so nearly tangible she felt as though she could grasp it in her trembling hands.

  “Ever the actress, aren’t you Mary-Merriana?” He dropped to his knees in the hay beside her and reached out to grasp her chin in his fingers, tilting her head to force her gaze to meet his. “Did you really believe I would let you and your friend get away with kidnapping and attempted murder? No, don’t try to answer that. I fear I would have little patience with your lies today. Did you know I was following you? Is that why you and your accomplice split up?”

  Merriana tried to shake her head but his hold tightened on her chin so that she couldn’t move.

  “Don’t try to answer any of my questions right now, love,” he murmured. The air was so saturated with his anger that Merriana shivered from the fear he was igniting in her. His fingers tightened on her face even more. “I should warn you, Mary-Merriana, that I’m very tired and very angry and that my grip on my temper is tenuous at best. One more lie from you, and I might just throttle you.”

  His hand slipped to her throat in time to feel Merriana’s convulsive swallow, and it seemed to amuse him. He chuckled as his fingers moved to feel the pulse racing in her neck.

  “Afraid, Merriana?” he inquired. “Perhaps you are at last showing a bit of wisdom. You have every right to be afraid of me. Someone should have warned you that I’m not a man who enjoys being used. I have a tendency to retaliate.”

  Merriana was silent as he took his hand from her throat and then lowered himself onto the hay beside her. Although she was ashamed of the fact, she was much too frightened to risk saying another word to Justin. Was this the same man who only two days ago had held her in his arms in the shade of an old oak near the Drake and Cock and kissed her with a delicious combination of passion and gentleness? There was no gentleness in him today, and Merriana feared that he would never allow her to explain what had really happened. But surely Antonia had told the truth.

  “Was Antonia awake when you left her?” she risked asking.

  “Your continuing concern with Antonia is most touching, my love.” His words oozed sarcasm. “No, she still slept, and would continue to sleep for several more hours, according to the doctor. Are you aware of how close you came to killing her with your drugged wine? That was a rhetorical question, my dear. I don’t expect an answer, at least not a truthful one.”

  Merriana clamped her lips together, determined not to attempt to say another word, but that was before lightning struck a giant maple right beside the mill. The blinding flash of light and near deafening roar of thunder was too much for her already tattered nerves. She screamed and threw herself into Justin’s arms.

  “My, my,” he murmured into her ear. “I didn’t come here expecting to be attacked, but I’m adaptable.” His arms came around her in a firm but gentle embrace, and Merriana felt her exhausted body relaxing into his. His lips searched for hers and she turned to him, seeking some semblance of safety and caring after the horror of the past few days. She lost herself in that kiss, feeling her consciousness spiraling through layers of light and darkness toward insensibility. But her senses had other ideas. Her tired body started awakening in places where she had never before felt sensation as Justin’s hands moved over her. He very slowly and expertly loosened the top buttons of her riding habit and warmed the chilled flesh below her throat with the strength of his hands until Merriana moaned with pleasure.

  “You’re so soft, my love,” he murmured into her ear, his breath sending shivers along her neck. “So soft.” His hand slipped lower. “Did I say soft?” he asked. “What a sadly inadequate term. There’s no word to describe the sensation of you beneath my hands.”

  She reveled in the feel of him, the taut hard muscles of his back, the silky softness of his hair. Her hands seemed to move over him of their own volition, discovering a wealth of textures and contrasts. His earlobe was tender and sweet like a baby’s, while the stubble of his beard was a thousand tiny needles pricking at her fingers as she drew them softly across his face. She breathed in the myriad odors that were part of his identity—the soap and the sweat and the smell of horse.

  A crack of thunder jolted Merriana back to reality, which in turn gave her the strength to pull herself from Justin’s arms. Her mind reluctantly reclaimed responsibility for her actions, although her breathing, inexplicably, was still quite beyond her control.

  “What’s wrong, love?” Justin asked in a husky voice. He lay on his side, an elbow resting on the floor and his cheek lying in the palm of his hand. His eyes were passion-filled and questioning.

  “I can’t do this,” Merriana replied in
as firm a tone as she could muster. “I can’t do what you want me to do.”

  “Of course you can,” he replied in much the tone of voice one would use to encourage a recalcitrant child. “Anyone can do it,” he continued. “It’s done every day. It’s been being done since the beginning of time, which, you have to admit, is a very good thing, or you and I would not be here today.”

  He reached for her arm and caught it, pulling her back toward him and placing a hand softly on her face. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you? Never fear, love. I’m always gentle.”

  “I can’t, Justin,” Merriana reiterated unhappily.

  “Now, love, I’ve already explained—”

  “Very well, then,” Merriana interrupted, “I will rephrase. I don’t want to.”

  He laughed softly. “For someone who doesn’t want to, your responses are unbelievably positive.” One of his fingers began brushing very softly over her lips. “If you’re still trying to convince me you’re a virgin, Mary-Merriana, don’t bother. I’m just as happy with you this way.”

  Merriana had slapped him before she even realized that she intended to. It was an instinctive response to one too many assaults on her emotions that day, but Justin had no way of knowing that, as she soon realized. One of his hands grasped the back of her head and he burrowed his fingers into her hair as he pulled her until her face was almost touching his. “I ought to take you anyway, you little tramp,” he muttered, “but I won’t, because whatever else I may be, I still have a hundred times more scruples than you. Why did you change your mind? Did you decide that seduction wasn’t enough to soften me after all?” He pushed her away from him as violently as he had pulled her to him.

  Merriana turned away from him in the hay and covered her face with her hands to hide the tears that were building in her eyes. “I didn’t try to seduce you,” she said.