The Mysterious Merriana

by Carolynn Carey

  “I can’t say that I really care, Merriana,” her uncle said, jutting his chin out. “But I assume it had something to do with a man. One of the grooms reported that he heard horses during the night and looked outside. The moon was bright enough for him to see that imposter riding away with some fellow the groom described as looking like ‘a blond angel.’ The servants woke me, of course, but I decided not to give chase since I wanted her out of my life anyway.”

  “Luc,” Justin exclaimed.

  “My heavens,” Merriana said. “Could it be? Is he not dead, then?”

  “Is who not dead?” the duke demanded.

  “Jennie’s—the imposter’s—husband, Lucifer,” Merriana explained hurriedly. “Justin, what can this mean?”

  “Probably that Damien has been betrayed by one of his own men. I’d better ride to the Queen to report this.”

  “You’re both insane,” the duke moaned. “Why would Her Majesty be interested in what’s become of this angel named Lucifer who isn’t dead?”

  “Justin didn’t mean the Queen, Uncle,” Merriana told him. “He meant the Diamond Queen, Damien’s ship. And yes, Justin, I think you should go immediately. He might not have left yet. In the meanwhile, I can be explaining everything to Uncle Sylvester.”

  “I sincerely hope so,” the duke exclaimed. “I have the distinct impression that someone in this room has gone mad, and I haven’t the slightest idea whether it is I or the two of you.”

  Over an hour and a half passed before Justin returned, and by that time, Merriana had had ample time to explain to her uncle all that had happened in recent weeks. He was horrified to learn just how deeply involved his brother and his brother’s daughter had been in attempts to both discredit Charles and Merriana and then to end their lives. The only joy he found in the long and involved tale was hearing about the honor and courage exhibited by his nephew Damien, who stood in line to inherit the title and entailed estates at some point in the future. Even so, he found it difficult to believe that Ernest’s son possessed the characteristics that Merriana attributed to him.

  “I’ll have to meet the young man and judge for myself,” the duke declared, “but from what you’ve told me, Merriana, I have a great deal to thank him for.”

  “We all do, sir,” Merriana replied, “and this entire episode has not been easy for him. Now, in addition to his family’s duplicity, he has to learn that one of the crew members whom he trusted implicitly has betrayed him by helping Luc escape. I wonder why he did it?”

  “That we may never know,” Justin told her a while later when she repeated the question to him. “Damien says the involved crewman disappeared during the night. He suspects that Luc simply bribed the fellow into hiding him aboard ship and then letting him go once we made port. In any case, Damien has now set out to find his father and Jennie and her husband. He suspects that the three of them will be together somewhere. He instructed me to tell you that you were not to worry—that he will make sure they never bother you or Charles again.”

  “But isn’t Damien coming here?” Merriana cried. “I wanted him to meet Uncle Sylvester. They should become acquainted with each other.”

  “And perhaps some day they will, love,” Justin told her gently, understanding her deep disappointment. “In the meanwhile, Damien said he would not feel comfortable meeting the duke until he has completely settled the affairs of his family. Perhaps, when he has finished that unpleasant chore, he will return to see you and to meet your uncle.”

  “I think you’re probably right, Cardleigh,” the duke stated. “And I understand and respect the boy’s desires. He sounds as though he feels just as he should about the matter. But in the meantime, I believe you and I have some unfinished business. Something to do about your feelings for my niece.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Justin replied. “I await your convenience.”

  “Well, considering what the two of you have been through together, I think it would be convenient right now. If you will excuse us, Merriana, Justin and I will retire to the library.”

  “You are excused,” Merriana announced, with a special smile just for Justin.

  Chapter 35

  The Duke of Daughrity’s residence in Grosvenor Square had not looked so festive in many years. Every room in the old mansion had been cleaned until it sparkled. The ballroom floor had been polished and then polished again after the dozens of pots of green and flowering plants had been positioned. The pendant chandeliers had been lowered, dusted, and shined. And every member of the haut ton who was not either dying or out of the country had turned out for the first ball the formidable old duke had given since his young sister had married the Comte de Mérchan so many years before.

  His sister would have been happy, the duke was thinking, if she could have seen the ball he was giving to announce the engagement of her daughter and the Earl of Cardleigh. She would have been happy, too, he knew, had she been able to see the love shining in her daughter’s eyes for the man she had chosen as her mate.

  For although Sylvester was not pleased to be losing his niece to marriage so soon after she’d come into his life and renewed his interest in living, he was not displeased with the man she was marrying. Cardleigh would only encourage Merriana’s deep and sincere devotion to the family that had not, for so many years of her life, known of her existence. The duke could really ask little more of Merriana’s spouse—other than that he love her—and it was obvious that Justin Foster loved Merriana as deeply as she loved him.

  They stood together, Justin and Merriana, helping Sylvester greet the members of the Polite World who had flocked to the ball in their satins and muslins, diamonds and pearls, velvet ribbons and shawls of Norwich silk. Merriana looked ethereal, her fond uncle noted, in her soft blue spider gauze that glinted a little when the candlelight caught the tiny blossoms that were embroidered in silver thread along the hem and on the bodice. And her opinion of Justin, dressed conservatively in black and white with his cravat tied in the elegant Mathematical, was written clearly in her eyes for all to see.

  When the last of the guests had been welcomed, Justin and Merriana were finally free to join the dancing, and Justin claimed the first waltz with Merriana for himself. He swept her into his arms as the music began, and their bodies seemed to meld as they forgot the rest of the world and gave themselves up to the pleasures of twirling around the room in perfect harmony. It was only seconds, however, before she began to giggle.

  “Now what, my love, has struck you as funny? I know there are a great many peculiar-looking people here, but ’tis impolite to laugh at them, you know,” Justin teased her.

  “I know, Justin, and I have admirably refrained from doing so. Although it hasn’t been easy to maintain proper decorum whenever my gaze happens to light upon that fellow wearing yellow pantaloons with red high-heeled shoes and sporting that monstrous neckcloth.”

  “Lord Baxter would be crushed to learn that you’ve expressed yourself that way about his appearance. He feels he is ‘bang up to the nines.’ I heard him say so. But if it isn’t old Baxter you’re laughing about, what it is?”

  “I was thinking about the only other time you and I waltzed together. Do you recall, at Lady Coleridge’s ball?”

  A slight smile touched Justin’s lips. “I’m not likely to forget it, love. You told me during that waltz that you would sooner marry a snake as to marry me.”

  Merriana’s laugh rang out over the dance floor. “I’d forgotten that,” she said. “As it turns out, that statement is far from being true today.”

  “You relieve my mind, my dear,” Justin noted sardonically, and Merriana laughed again.

  “Actually, I just remembered that you began calling me Mary-Merriana during that dance.”

  “And, with your permission, I shall go on calling you Mary-Merriana for the rest of our lives, for I first fell in love with Mary but then went on to fall even more deeply in love with Merriana.”

  “What a sweet thing to say. But did you really
fall in love with Mary? As I recall, you were usually extremely angry with her.”

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for that someday. But in reality, I first fell in love with Mary in the kitchen of the Drake and Cock when she pledged me to ‘no more kissing.’”

  Merriana’s laugh again drifted over the dance floor. “I sincerely hope, my love, that is one promise you’re going to break with great frequency.”

  “I pledge to you now,” he responded, smiling at her with eyes made dark by passion, “that I’ll engage in that activity not only with great frequency but also with great pleasure.”

  “Now that is one promise I will hold you to, my lord.”

  “And one I’ll gladly keep!”

  As soon as their dance ended, Merriana was surrounded by others wanting to claim her hand, and it was some time before Justin was able to maneuver her out onto a terrace where he could wrap an arm around her. “Enjoying your ball, my love?” he asked.

  “Oh yes! It’s lovely. I only wish… ”

  “You only wish what, my dear?”

  “Well, I wish Tom and Luke could have been here.”

  “They wouldn’t have been comfortable, love,” he told her. “But they’ll always remember that they were invited and they’ll always know that you would have welcomed them with more warmth and pleasure than you have felt for any other guest who is here.”

  “Not any other,” she objected. “I feel equally honored to have Antonia here, even if her mother is making her hide behind a potted palm.”

  “Well, Antonia isn’t out yet, and we don’t want to be responsible for helping her break society’s rules before she’s even established. But she told me herself that she’s having a wonderful time watching all the ‘sapskulls’ and ‘nodcocks,’ as she so eloquently phrased it.”

  Merriana laughed. “I’m glad she’s having a nice time, whatever her opinions of the haut ton.” Then she sighed.

  “Other regrets, my dear?”

  “Only Damien,” she replied. “I wanted so much for him to be here. He hasn’t even met Uncle Sylvester yet, and now he’s on his way to America and we may never see him again.”

  “I’m sure he’ll keep in touch,” Justin assured her. “After all, he didn’t have to write to tell us that he had learned that Ernest, Jennie, and Luc had sailed for the new world. And he didn’t have to notify us when he decided to go there himself to see if he could help them begin new lives. I can’t say that I understand why he feels so responsible for those three, but I respect him for his feelings. In any case, I’m sure he’ll continue to keep us abreast of his activities.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Merriana said with a skeptical note in her voice. “I really care for him, Justin, and I have so few family members that I can say that about, I don’t want to lose even one.”

  “But think, my dearest, of the family members you’ll be gaining when you marry me. Antonia will become your new sister, and if that doesn’t convince you to jilt me, I can feel very secure in your love.”

  Merriana laughed, as he had intended for her to do. “You know I adore Antonia, and I’ll be delighted to have her as a sister. Justin, where are you taking me?”

  “I’ve just noted a dark corner over there, love,” he announced as he pulled her along with him into a deep recess of the terrace. “And, just so you will be aware of my intentions,” he murmured in her ear as he pulled her close to him, “I’m now planning to break that promise I once made to you in the kitchen of the Drake and Cock.”

  “I sincerely wish you would,” Merriana responded, letting her eyes rest on his lips.

  “Merriana,” he said, followed by a groan. “When you look at me like that, I’m inclined to forget I’m a gentleman.”

  “Soon you’ll be a husband as well as a gentleman,” she told him as she reached up to gently run her fingers over his earlobe.

  “It can’t be soon enough for me.”

  Several minutes later, Justin broke their embrace. “I’m the luckiest man in God’s creation,” he whispered in a voice that was less than steady. “For all of my life, I’ll be able to love you twice as much as I could ever have loved any other woman. My own, my very precious, Mary-Merriana.

  THE END

  Dear Reader:

  If you’re interested in following the adventures of Antonia and Damien, be sure to watch for the release in early 2017 of The Untamable Antonia. In the meantime, you can keep up to date with my releases by visiting my website (www.CarolynnCarey.com) or, for immediately notification regarding a new release, sign up for my newsletter by clicking here.

  In the meantime, I invite you to read the beginning of The Untamable Antonia, which follows. And, as always, thanks for your support.

  Excerpt

  THE UNTAMABLE ANTONIA

  CHAPTER ONE

  April 1813, somewhere in the Atlantic

  Damien Weston stood at the helm of the Diamond Queen, reveling in what he considered to be a perfect day for sailing. The bracing wind, the aloof sun, the occasional glint of a stray sunbeam reflecting off a wave cap—all tended to soothe his soul as he attempted to force thoughts of upcoming challenges to the back of his mind. Those challenges, unfortunately, insisted on pushing their way forward, serving to remind him that despite his elation at being back at sea, his current mission was far from being one of unmitigated joy.

  Still, a smile of unusual warmth lifted the corners of his lips as he detected the clump-clump of an old man’s boots climbing the steps that led to the upper deck, and he turned to smile at Horace Ruble. Horace was the one man in Damien’s rather disreputable crew who had known him since he was a babe. Horace had insisted on following Damien when, at the age of seventeen, he’d fled Europe to seek fortune and peace in a new land.

  “I’ve served the heirs of Daughrity for too many years to stop now,” Horace had informed Damien on that long-ago day when the young man had tried to dissuade him. “Aye, I know ye’re about to travel a stony road, lad, and ye don’t want me to share yer sorrows, but I’ve a right ye can’t take away from me for all yer noble sentiments, and ye’ll have to kill me to stop me.”

  Damien had never admitted in so many words that he was pleased to have Horace at his side, but he hoped that the warmth of his smile expressed his thanks every time he looked at the scrawny old man who now served as ship’s doctor as well as personal valet and occasional cook and conscience for the young nobleman who had renounced his homeland.

  “I brought you a cup of hot coffee, lad,” Horace called when he reached the top of the stairs. “The wind’s strong today with a bite to it that’s nay comfortable for these old bones of mine. Of course ye young nippy lads care naught for a little chill.”

  Damien accepted the steaming mug of coffee with a soft word of thanks. His cultured speech was unlike that of the other men responsible for the well-being of his ship, and he’d had to work to ensure his crew understood that his dulcet tones could also be commanding. That hadn’t been easy at first, considering he’d recruited his men from the gutters and waterfront taverns of some of the most disreputable seaports of some of the most notorious arenas of the world.

  One of those crewmen approached Damien now, his muscular chest covered by a dingy white shirt and topped by a leather vest. Loose cotton trousers supported by links of chain encircled his massive waist, and a diamond stud sparkled in his left earlobe. A slight frown marred his face, which was already disfigured by a scar that intersected one eyebrow and disappeared into the black sideburn beside his right ear.

  “What Moses?” Damien asked, knowing as he did that his first mate had approached the helm for no trivial reason.

  “Shay’s spotted a frigate off the starboard bow, crippled by the looks of her. She’s limping along with her mainmast snapped in two. Headed for Europe would be my guess.”

  “What flag does she fly?”

  “Shay couldn’t make it out. She’s too far away yet.”

  “Horace, hand me my glass. Moses, take the whee
l.” Damien thrust the mug of coffee into the hands of his old friend as he grasped a small telescope and trained it on the horizon. “She’s flying a British flag,” he announced.

  “Best give her the go-by,” Horace recommended, glancing up at their own flag that identified them as a ship of the former English colonies, a fledgling new country that called itself the United States and had had the audacity to declare war on mighty Britain in 1812. “She might have sighted us first. It could be a trick.”

  “She’s of no danger to us,” Damien said. “She’ll be lucky to ever see a port again. We’ll strike our own flag and run up the Union Jack to keep from frightening her off. See to it, Horace. I want to determine if we can be of any assistance. Besides, I’d be interested in knowing just what happened to result in so much damage.”

  “Can you see her name, Cap’n?” Moses wanted to know.

  “Almost. Yes. Now it’s coming into focus. She’s the Bonnie Lassie. Does the name mean anything to you, Moses?”

  “Aye, Cap’n. That it does. She was in port in England at the same time we was. She set sail six days ahead of us.”

  “Bound for where, do you know?”

  “Jamaica, I believe. Do you suppose pirates hit her?”

  “Not likely. She hasn’t had time to get inside their sphere. It looks like storm damage to me. I’ll take the wheel. Tell Price to signal their captain as soon as we’re close enough. I want to invite him to come aboard. In exchange for his information, I’ll offer what help we’re able to provide.”

  The captain of the Bonnie Lassie was an astute man, an old sailor who had begun his career at sea as a cabin boy and worked his way up to captain for a line that carried spun English cotton to Jamaica and picked up sugar to return to England. A less able captain, Damien suspected, would never have survived the storm that was being described to him as the two men sat in Damien’s cabin sipping French brandy.