Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03]

by Strangers Kiss

  The shadows were deep in the bedroom even though the sun would not set for several more hours. Meryon and Elena settled themselves, her head on his chest, Meryon’s arm around her.

  “We are in some netherworld, between life and heaven.” Elena drew a deep breath and was sure she could smell spring. “Tell me about your day, Meryon.”

  “Ooof,” Meryon said. “I am very much back down to earth.”

  “Yes, my day was like that too, but now the worries seem a hundred miles away instead of just a few.” Elena watched his chest rise and fall and tried to match her breathing to his.

  ELENA COULD TELL the moment Meryon fell asleep, and her eyes drifted closed too. The time that passed could have been five minutes or an hour.

  Shifting in the bed to ease a pleasurable stiffness, Elena stilled instantly when Meryon made a sound that was almost a moan. “Have I hurt you?”

  “No, no, sweet.” Meryon kissed her hand. “There is too much shadow in here to see the bruises, but my brother, Gabriel, fair marked me all over at Jackson’s today. He was in a foul mood at breakfast and some time in the ring seemed the best way to erase the ill humor.”

  “So you are starting at the end of your less than perfect day?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am. Mind you, I did not intend to be the loser. The man’s in fine form; keeping up with all those children must be the key.”

  She loved listening to him talk like this. It reminded her of their first meeting and wished it would always be so.

  “Gabriel is so impatient. He wants me to solve all the problems of hunger and unemployment right now and in my spare time find out why he and Lynette are not allowed to show their work at the Academy of Science.”

  Meryon might be more patient but he was not any less caring because of that. She raised her head and pressed a kiss on his chin. “Hunger and the need for more work have been with us as long as we have had cities, and even before that when crops failed.”

  “Precisely, and will take almost as long to cure. As for the Academy of Science, I have no cachet there. None at all. The academy is a group of men who are not anxious to see change despite their interest in science. A new bug or a fancy clock is all the group wants to read about.”

  “Perhaps Lord and Lady Gabriel should start another society to which the Duke of Meryon could lend his name and support. One that welcomes papers by anyone no matter what their gender or even their religion.”

  “That’s a wonderfully egalitarian idea, Elena, but not likely to be taken seriously.”

  “Don’t be patronizing, Meryon.” She tried to look him in the eye, but could see no more than his chin. “In France, men regard women as having a value beyond the bedroom. Why can’t the English be so bold?”

  “I have no idea, but something the French do will not win you support among the men of science. They are still annoyed by all the work Napoleon’s men did during the war.”

  “Which makes my point, as I am sure some of those men were women.” That reminded her of her evening. “Which brings me handily to my day, which began last night the moment I walked in the door.”

  Meryon listened to her account of Mia and William’s misadventure with satisfying interest.

  “That led to an absolutely awful morning. When I told Mia that her behavior meant a postponement of her first ton event, the girl had a tantrum that makes my temper look controlled. By the time Mia was done crying and screaming she had thrown a vase at the window and broken both.”

  Meryon’s amazed “Good heavens” was all the sympathy Elena could hope for.

  “I feel guilty leaving Mia in the Tinottis’ hands but I have a very healthy selfish streak and wanted my time with you.”

  Elena sat up now, pulling the sheet up to cover herself.

  “I sent a message to William asking him to meet me at Hatchard’s. He was insistent that to restrain Mia any more was a mistake. I told him that they were too much alike for him to be any judge of what was the right action to take.” She was becoming annoyed all over again. “He said that was exactly why he knew it was the wrong thing to do.”

  “Lord William is a force to be reckoned with.” Meryon eased himself up so that he was resting against the headboard.

  “Yes, but I have always been able to count on him to do right before. Mia’s influence is not for the best, I’m afraid.” She watched Meryon, hoping for some support.

  “That is an understatement,” he said, folding his arms. “The viscount should have informed you right away and let you handle the situation.”

  Elena laughed. “That’s what I said at first, but think about William. He is a man, not a governess, and besides that, a man who is inclined to share an adventure with any willing soul.”

  Despite the fact that she and Meryon agreed with each other Elena could see that they were close to an argument, so she kept any further thoughts on the subject to herself. She was not going to ruin their lovely afternoon with a nonsense disagreement over something so domestic.

  Meryon must have read her mind. “I know this a big bed but there is only room for two people, as far as I’m concerned. Unless you are inclined to a ménage à trois?”

  “You are not serious.” She could not hide her dismay.

  He shrugged. “I thought you might consider it an adventure.”

  “I would not.” He seemed to accept her vehemence. “Would you, Meryon?”

  “Not today.”

  A MéNAGE à TROIS was not something he’d ever considered, even after viewing some of the vignettes at the whorehouses in his youth. A threesome was too much like watching circus gymnasts, albeit naked. But letting Elena think he was intrigued by it did give him an advantage. If Elena had any idea how besotted he was, he would lose all control of the situation.

  They made love again and this time the sex was as slow and languorous as it had been rushed before. Elena seduced him, touched every part of him with her hands and her mouth.

  Meryon loved the feel of her against him. Like her singing, her lovemaking unleashed emotions that were beyond any of his experience, from an overpowering lust, to love, to a fury of need frightening in intensity.

  Wave upon wave drove him until he could wait no longer. Once the two of them were joined by the act of his entering her, of making them one, Meryon gave in to the physical need that took control and drove them together to completion.

  Each knew what the other needed, wanted, and each gave as completely as mind, body, and heart would allow. That overwhelming hunger obscured the fear that Meryon needed her more than was wise.

  He fell asleep again, sated and now wanting another kind of intimacy. He had never fallen asleep next to a woman before.

  Unease crept back while his eyes were closed.

  25

  ELENA WAS DETERMINED not to be annoyed by Meryon’s snores. Not snores, but the kind of breathing that meant the man needed rest. She lay next to him awhile, feeling used in the most delicious way. Obviously he felt the same.

  Had anyone ever written a poem to a sleeping lover? Elena liked to think of sleeping with another as the dearest sign of trust a couple could share. Meryon was not pushing her away.

  As if he heard her, Meryon moved in his sleep, reaching out so that his hand touched hers. The little bit of physical contact was enough reassurance to send him deeper into sleep again.

  Elena supposed one little touch was one more way that men and women were different. Just that bit of contact was enough for Meryon.

  Physical closeness made her want even more of him. Elena wanted to know everything, from what he thought about the way the Regent treated his wife to how often he had been to Gunter’s.

  Elena turned her hand so that their palms touched and she could feel his pulse, the smoothness of his fingers despite fencing and his time at Jackson’s. Clearly the need to use their hands and fists was another way that men were different from women.

  There was no saying which was better or if either truly worked. At least she was generou
s enough to allow that.

  As Elena moved to hold his hand, Meryon pulled his hand from under hers and tucked it beneath the bed pillow. His gesture left her feeling dismissed.

  Don’t be so missish. This is hardly the place for such airs, she chided herself. Leave him alone. He is every inch a man and sleeping like this proves it. Resisting the urge to smooth the hair back from Meryon’s brow, Elena slid from under the covers and out of bed, gathered her clothes, and went into the dressing room.

  Tugging the bellpull, Elena tried to ignore a feeling of awkwardness. Her shift was wrinkled and damp but she had no other with her. Who would have known that it would be a casualty of their lovemaking?

  The maid came quickly and helped her dress without comment, managing to convey a sympathy that was as nurturing as it was pragmatic. The woman was comfortable to be with.

  “Madame, the duke asked me earlier to have wine and cakes in the salon. He will meet you there at his convenience.”

  The word “convenience” rankled, almost enough that Elena considered going back into the bedroom and making sure that the duke’s convenience and hers were the same. Instead Elena took her vague sense of irritation with her to the salon, sipped the wine, and picked up one of the volumes that sat on the table next to the tray.

  MERYON REACHED OUT to her and found cold linen. He wanted Elena to be here, next to him. Disappointed, he rubbed the fatigue from his face, sat up. No sounds came from the dressing room. That meant Elena was downstairs drinking wine and eating cakes, waiting. Meryon took his pillow and threw it across the room, and then was embarrassed as it reminded him of Rexton when the boy did not have his way. Well, that was the truth of it. Meryon wanted her here and now so that he could play some more.

  He ignored the banyan that lay on the chair and dressed as he picked up his clothes. His breeches fit tightly and he patted the fall as if consoling himself. His shirt and cravat made him feel more gentlemanly, but he could not put his closely tailored coat on without help.

  If he asked her to help him, it was possible that they could put the chaise in the parlor to good use. To that end he left his cravat loosely tied and imagined using it to pull her to him. He checked the clock and decided that he had all the time he needed.

  That might work today, but what about tonight, tomorrow morning, after dinner? The one thing he had not counted on was that having a lover would not be at all convenient.

  As he pulled on his boots, an impulse struck him with such force that he almost raced down the stairs with one foot bare. If Elena Verano became his mistress, she could live in this house and be available whenever he needed her. He squelched the thought that he might as well move in here with her as he seemed to want her every minute of every day.

  She had a staff that would be too big for this place, but he shoved all the practicalities aside as he pulled open the drawers of his chest and hunted for some bauble to give her that would show her how serious he was, how much she meant to him.

  Damnation. There wasn’t much and nothing good enough for her. A book! Perfect. He spent more minutes than he wanted to trying to decide whether to give her the one with erotic sketches or the exquisite leather-bound copy of the Kama Sutra that had been on this shelf from the first day of his ownership.

  The Kama Sutra, he decided. They could read it aloud to each other. Something they could share in more ways than one.

  He found paper and, by some miracle, a pen and ink that were still usable. He wrote a note. The words came easily since they came from his heart. There, he thought. The time from impulse to action had been less than five minutes. He still had to put on his other boot, so he rang for the maid.

  “Take this to Signora Verano,” he said, handing her the slim volume, “and tell her that I will join her in less than two minutes.”

  He pulled on his boot and using the glass, combed his hair and retied his cravat in a traditional knot. He would have plenty of time with her now.

  THE BOOK HAD the most beautiful binding Elena had ever seen. There was no title on the front or the spine and she admired the elaborate gilt scrollwork that filled the cover. Studying it more carefully, Elena realized the scrollwork was a vine of some exotic flower, which entwined a man and a woman in the most erotic way.

  She set the book aside, curbing one curiosity for another more compelling. The note read: For you, Elena, with thanks and appreciation for your generous spirit and in anticipation of the next weeks and months.

  The note was not signed, though there was no doubt from whom it came. Elena had never seen Meryon’s handwriting before and distracted herself for a minute as she tried to see some of him in the bold black ink and the disciplined lines.

  Bold and disciplined. And very much in control.

  Weeks and months. That should have pleased her. Protestations of undying love would have not been the truth. She knew that, but “I love you” would have been a lovely lie.

  Elena took the book up and opened it, not at all surprised by the title page. Kama Sutra. She snapped the book shut. How clichéd. How like a man.

  Meryon found her with the book in her lap.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Elena began without preamble. “Words of affection would have been enough of a gift from you.”

  She watched the duke for his reaction. He was a little surprised but not embarrassed, which was a relief. Or was it? No, it was not.

  Elena wanted Meryon to grab the book, proclaim himself a thousand kinds of fool for thinking that something so carnal could express his true feelings, and promise to show her a dozen times a day what she meant to him.

  “I’m sorry. Truly I am.” Meryon took her hand, kissed it, and then gathered her into his arms. “I should have waited and we could have gone to the jeweler together. That way you could choose something yourself, but I wanted to give you something right away, something that would show you what you mean to me.”

  Meryon kissed her, that tender kiss Elena recognized from their first meeting. It eased the frustration with his reticence, but not the discomfort with his gift. Why could he not express his feelings, even if he felt no more than gratitude?

  “Elena, there is something more. I want to give you this house. It may not be styled to your liking, but you may redecorate it any way you wish.” His expectant smile confused her.

  “But I have a home, Meryon. In Bloomsbury.”

  Elena made to step out of the embrace. Before he let go of her, the duke kissed her on one cheek and then the other. “My dear, I want you closer. I want to be able to see you whenever I am free.”

  Elena froze, quite literally, froze. Then her whole being shivered as if waking from a fantasy. Meryon took up his glass of wine and drank as though what he wanted was as conventional as singing Messiah at Easter.

  The explanation that came to her mind, the words, might be too direct, even crude, but Elena asked and hoped she was wrong. “You want to set me up as your mistress?”

  “Yes, yes.” He smiled again, not the true from-the-heart smile. This one was almost patronizing, as though she had not understood her lesson on the first telling.

  She gave him an answer. It might not have been the one Meryon was looking for but there was no other response that could fully express her thoughts.

  Elena slapped him.

  It was not the most destructive blow in the world, but from the duke’s shocked expression Elena knew he understood the message. And was surprised by it.

  She found her voice. “You are telling me you want me to be your mistress? Not even asking. Telling me.” She made fists with both of her hands to keep from slapping him again. “I wish a woman could challenge a man to a duel.”

  Meryon’s confusion was insultingly real. The duke was shaking his head. He looked puzzled, his mouth slightly open, though not a word or sound came from him.

  “Your Grace, you are the stupidest man I have ever met. A fool. An idiot.” Turning from him, Elena marched toward the door. “Take me home now.” She waited there,
her back to him. She could feel the duke’s eyes on her and gave him his answer on the chance he had misunderstood her anger. “No, I will not be your mistress. What’s more, I will have nothing more to do with you. Not after that insult.”

  Still the duke did not move to open the door for her. Elena would not raise a hand to open it herself, but waited for him to act as a gentleman should.

  “Elena, what on earth.” Meryon tried again. “Listen to me.”

  “Are you so used to having everyone do your bidding that you do not even understand the word no?” Elena made the mistake of turning back to look at him as she spoke.

  The duke was composed now, except for his eyes. There she saw anger and embarrassment. Good, Elena thought; that made two of them.

  “I am sorry if I misunderstood your interest.” His stiff words made his discomfort clear.

  “Who do you think I am? What do you think I am?” Elena knew she was shouting and wanted to do more. She wanted to shake some sense into him. Instead she closed her eyes and prayed for self-control. It came to her, some small, angel-given gift that helped her behave as the lady she was born and raised to be, not the screaming witch he had unleashed with his vile suggestion.

  “Meryon, you are the second person I have been with. I have had no other lovers.” Elena stepped away from the door. “For me, making love is a special connection, a giving and sharing. What does it mean to you, if not that?” Elena did not wait for the duke to answer, but spoke for him. “Is it no more than physical need?”

  “Yes, it’s physical need, but more than that. I thought that having you in residence here would make our lives simpler.”

  “My living here would make your life simpler. Mine would be in a ruin. Did you not even think of Mia and what it would do to her debut? Have you become so used to everyone deferring to you that you have lost all understanding of true feeling?”

  Elena knew that was not so. Their first meeting had shown her that Meryon was capable of deep emotion and compassion. She had seen it again when the carriage wheel had come off.