Elena screamed.
The crowd surged forward, and for a moment Meryon thought Elena had fainted. But no, she was kneeling, laying fingers that trembled on the ruined instrument.
Bendas laughed.
As Elena began to gather the pieces and put them in the case, she spoke loud enough for Bendas to hear. As the room was dead silent that meant it was loud enough for everyone in attendance to hear as well.
“I am ashamed to be your daughter. I renounce you once and for all and will never, ever acknowledge you again.”
Bendas grunted a dismissal.
Meryon bent to help Elena, his temper on the breaking point. His own hands were shaking with rage and he could not handle the pieces as carefully as Elena, so he held the case as she continued to fill it. It took all the control he had to ignore Bendas. Elena was far more important. He would attend to Bendas later.
Whether or not Meryon had ruined Elena’s chance at reconciliation with her father, Garrett was right. His fight for justice was too much like revenge. It had cost too much.
He heard Bendas spit and felt the spittle land on his shoulder. It was such a vulgar insult that Meryon was sure the people watching would realize that the man was insane.
Meryon stiffened and cast Bendas a withering glance. He latched the case, gave Elena his hand, and helped her to stand again.
Then he took out his handkerchief to wipe the spittle from his shoulder.
“So it comes to a duel,” Meryon said, as though it were hardly worth noting. He turned to Elena. “My lady, I love and respect everything about you and will do as you wish in this.”
She was shocked. He could tell she could barely take in what was happening. Courage, he said with his eyes. You have only one more decision to make.
“My lady, I ask you as your servant, do you want me to kill this man in a duel?”
“No, no,” she said, finding her voice. Her white face was now flushed. She raised a hand to her heart.
“And so it will be, my lady.” Meryon turned back to Bendas, who looked disgusted by Meryon’s consideration. “He is no longer a gentleman and not worthy of a challenge.”
Meryon offered Elena his arm and escorted her from the salon, the crowd making room for them, most of them edging away from the corner where Rogers was Bendas’s only support.
As they left, Meryon saw William and the trustees talking together with Wilson nearby, ready to tell his story. Bendas was at the end of his road to ruin, at the gate of Hell.
37
ELENA SAT CURLED UP against Meryon in his carriage, her brain unable to take in the enormity of what had happened.
Her father’s behavior had shocked her. Meryon’s behavior had too. Elena really was not sure which of the two surprised her more.
She did know that next to Meryon was exactly where she wanted to be.
He hugged her to his side. “We will be in Bloomsbury soon,” he whispered against her hair.
She could not face Tinotti and Tina. Mia would cry even more than she already had at not being able to attend.
“I will never be your mistress, Meryon. There is no room for discussion on that.”
She could feel him straighten a little and draw in a breath to answer her. Elena went on in a rush. “If you accept that, then I would like to go to the little house on St. German Street.” She sat up and hoped she did not look as bad as she felt.
“I cannot take you to St. German Street.”
“All right.” Elena looked out the window, too drained to cry, though her heart ached at the rejection.
“Elena, darling, you misunderstand. You are better off without me. Please listen. I am the reason Bendas treated you so badly. If I had not pursued him for my version of justice, he would have, at the very least, left you alone and, at the most, welcomed you as his daughter again. I saw Rogers whisper to him that there was going to be trouble. Bendas saw what I had put in play and he thought to escape it through you. When that did not work, he tried to hurt you as a revenge on me.”
“You take too much responsibility, Lyn.” She was not going to argue with him about this.
“That could be.”
Was that agreement she heard from him? She must look awful.
“Elena, no one knows when the man’s mind first began to fail. It could have started when you were fourteen. We would have to be as mad as he is to understand why he has acted this way.”
“Then we cannot let him win. Please, Meryon, take me to the little house.”
“Of course I will.” His voice registered his surprise. “If you are sure. It is not the seat of our happiest memories.”
“It was the place of our greatest intimacy and our first truly awful misunderstanding. That makes it as much a home as any other place where we have kissed and argued.”
“Then you will have to find a Canaletto when I redo the small salon.” He raised a finger and pressed it against her lips even though she had made no move to speak. “In this case I am not going to ask what you wish, but hope that I can read your mind. I will happily take you to the little house, but you must rest. I can see you are still very shaken.”
“Yes.” She could agree to that. “If you will rest with me.” Meryon smiled and kissed her forehead, which was almost annoying. She was not an invalid.
He more than made up for it later when they were in the great lake of a bed. Elena had indeed slept for almost two hours and when she woke up, Meryon was beside her reading by the light of one weak candle.
He smiled at her, but kept reading. She decided that he needed a distraction but made a mental note that when she was ill he would take very good care of her. Whether she needed it or not.
Elena rested her palm on the curve of his hip. She loved the feel of that spot, the warmth of it and the way she could feel his body react to her touch.
She wrapped her fingers around his arousal and Meryon could ignore her no longer.
“Do you feel well enough for this?” He showed her an illustration in a book of erotic drawings.
“Not today,” she said with a laugh, “but do mark the spot.”
When he leaned over to place the book on the night-stand and blow out the candle, Elena wiggled closer to him, annoyed that she was still wearing her shift.
He must have read her mind because he pushed back the covers on his side of the bed and began kissing her ankle, then her calf, then her knee, raising the shift with each kiss.
When he reached her waist he slid his hand under her back and raised her a little. Pressing his mouth to her he kissed and licked until she was writhing.
“Hold still or I will leave you frustrated quite unintentionally.”
“Holding still,” she gasped, “is not what I want to do at all.”
“All right, then.” He looked up and smiled. “Let us move together, shall we?”
They found a rhythm and Elena was lost in the rocking, rhythmic, fiery orgasm too soon and not soon enough. Before she was fully aware, Meryon moved atop her, sliding his manhood into her, rubbing against the already sensitive parts of her. The orgasm did not end until his seed came into her. They stayed joined until the last of the pleasure faded.
Finally, he helped her out of another ruined shift. This time she was the one who pulled the sheet up over their shoulders. There were no fires today and, as the night shadows deepened, the room took on a chill.
“Do you want to sleep more?” he asked.
Since she knew that was what he needed, Elena agreed and, tucked together, she closed her eyes. His even breathing soon followed, and then the longer breaths that she already recognized as deep sleep.
They were lovers. They would be lovers for as long as she wanted. Elena drifted into a light doze as she calculated that forever would be just long enough.
ELENA LOOKED AROUND the salon for a place to put a Canaletto and wondered if Meryon realized that arguments would be a way of life for them.
As the maid set a tray with tea and biscuits on a table, Meryo
n came into the room. The maid curtsied to them and disappeared.
He watched the maid leave and nodded when Elena raised the teapot. “I took a few minutes to speak to the maid. Her name is Marcella and she says that this house belongs to her more than any of its other occupants. She is forever grateful to have been offered the post and hopes she can stay on forever.”
“She does talk then?”
“Only when spoken to.” He took a healthy sip of the tea that Elena poured for him. “Our conversation made me realize the difference between lonely and alone. Another bit of wisdom gained by talking to servants. Talking to them may become a habit.”
“Hmm, beware awakening a beast. I love the Tinottis, I truly do, but it is rather nice to have a servant who does not want to discuss every domestic detail with you.”
“That’s when the ducal stare can be useful.”
“Keep thinking that, Your Grace.” She laughed at his expression. “Perhaps you are right. It is a way of telling them that they have encroached, but I do not see it nearly as often as I used to.”
He tried to use it on her and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. In the end he was laughing too.
“Oh, Elena, you are such a joy. Marry me. Please say you will marry me.” He must have seen her shock because he quickly amended his proposal. “Say you will at least consider it. Someday.”
“Marriage.” She walked to the window that overlooked the back garden and noticed that the pink and red flowers blooming matched the ones on the wall in the salon. It was easier to think about that than to consider all that Meryon’s suggestion implied.
“Only consider it, Elena. I love you. More than I ever thought possible. I hope that you love me. My cowardice is in the past and you need to know what I feel. Being your lover is not all that I long for. I want you to be a part of my life in every way, not just in bed.”
He kissed her. Not a seductive kiss, but one that felt to her like an apology.
“I am sorry if this upsets you, and I leave the decision completely in your hands.”
I am already tired of all this obsequiousness, she thought, but was wise enough not to say it aloud. He was a man who, once he was aware and committed, did nothing by halves.
“Very well. Then I will be as honest with you.” As she took a breath, she wondered if he would invite someone to Jackson’s when she was done. “I do not ever want to marry again. My independence is too precious. As a widow, my world runs as I wish, and I see no reason to change that. To marry again means too big a leap of faith. Could what we have survive the change? Can we not keep our lives as they are?”
“Coward.” He made the word sound like a term of endearment. “I will agree to your terms now, my darling, and save the argument for sometime when we need one. For now contentment is too fine a comfort to tamper with.”
THE NEXT WEEKS were much as he hoped. Near perfect, with just enough difference of opinion to give them a fine excuse to make up.
They met at St. German Street and once or twice spent the entire night there. By June, when the session ended, they were recognized as “very close friends,” and when Mia announced her engagement to William several people congratulated Meryon as though he were Mia’s father.
The subject of marriage never actually came up, or not very often. Rexton had asked if she was going to become his mama and Blix had suggested Meryon consider redoing the duchess’s suite.
Mia and William were, fortunately, too caught up in their own plans to nag them, but the thought of marriage came back to Meryon every time he and Elena had to say good night and go to their separate homes. He wished that she had the same feelings, but she seemed so perfectly and utterly pleased with herself, with him, with life, that he knew that was not the case.
38
LYNETTE AND GABRIEL RETURNED to town to discuss their project with their patron, Dr. Schotzko. This time they had brought all the children as far as the house in Richmond, where Lynette’s mother was supervising the servants for now.
This morning Elena had come early to join Lynette, Gabriel, and Meryon for breakfast. Afterward the four adults, with Rexton and Alicia, were going to Richmond for a small family house party. Though as Lynette said, “It is doubtful that any house party with this many children can be called small.”
Mia, William, and the Tinottis were to meet them there as well. Meryon thought it had the makings of a riot but found he was looking forward to the chaos.
They were lingering over the last bit of tea and toast when the majordomo came to him. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace. This is highly unusual but Wilson insists on speaking with you before you leave for Richmond. The dog, Magda, is with him.”
“Oh, show him in,” Gabriel called from his end of the table. “The duke is still breakfasting and we should all like to see Magda.”
“Yes, tell Wilson I will see him here,” Meryon told the majordomo, and returned to his last bit of toast.
The butler was not as good as Blix at keeping his expression bland. He did answer “Yes, Your Grace,” but his expression conveyed horror at the idea of a stable servant being welcomed into the private part of the house.
Alan Wilson walked into the room with a straight back and Magda under his arm. He was a little taken aback when he saw that the party was larger than just him and the duke, but he recovered quickly and gave a jerky bow.
“Good morning to you, Mr. Wilson.”
“Good morning, sir, Your Grace.” The boy answered with more formality than he usually showed.
“Put Magda down.”
When Wilson hesitated, Meryon explained, “She knows this room well and exactly who will give her food from the table.”
With a nod, Wilson set Magda down and the dog trotted to Gabriel.
“Now tell me what is so important that you must speak to me at breakfast.”
“It’s Magda, sir, Your Grace. If I am to go in the cabriolet I want to know who she’s traveling with.”
“I thought she would stay here.”
Meryon heard Gabe choke back a laugh.
“She can’t,” the boy said firmly. “She is part of the family too. Sir, Your Grace, I came to see if she could ride with Rexton and Alicia, or even up in the box with John Coachman.”
“Brilliant, my boy,” Gabriel called out. “You have marshaled an excellent argument with Lord Rexton on your side.”
Wilson bowed his head but did not look away from the duke.
“Yes, Wilson. I understand your concern, and Magda will certainly be included in the family outing.”
“Thank you, sir, Your Grace,” the boy said with a smile that was a reward all its own.
“Wilson. Could I have your attention for a moment?” Gabriel called out.
“Yes, sir.” The boy walked down to the end of the table.
“Please tell me who you are.”
“I am Alan Wilson, the duke’s tiger, and I walk Magda and work in the stables and ride with John Coachman so I can learn to handle the reins of a coach and four.”
“I am Gabriel Pennistan, the duke’s youngest brother. I live in Sussex with my wife and children. I am a man of science and study the human body and spend all the rest of the time doing whatever my wife tells me.”
Wilson bowed.
“You have met our sons before, have you not?”
“Some of them, my lord.”
Gabe looked at Meryon and he nodded. He knew what was coming and thought it an excellent idea—which he hoped Gabriel appreciated as a hugely unselfish gesture, since Wilson was the best groom on staff. Of course that only proved he had a future beyond the stable.
“Wilson, I would like to invite you to join us in Sussex. I think the duke would be willing to let Magda come too, and you could learn a skill of your choosing.”
Wilson looked puzzled and then his face cleared. “You want me to become a part of your family.”
“Yes, in essence.”
“Thank you, my lord, but no.” Wilson answered
without a moment’s hesitation.
They wrangled on for another five minutes, but Meryon could see that Wilson’s mind was set.
Finally, Meryon interrupted. “Wilson has made his choice, Gabriel. He wants life in Penn Square and to be head groom one day.” To Wilson he added, “You can always change your mind.”
The boy bowed his head, obviously relieved that the discussion was over.
“I think you have chores to do before we leave. Would you like a muffin?” The last was an impulse and he held the basket out.
“No, thank you, sir, Your Grace. It would not be seemly.” He bowed to all of them, and with impressive dignity he left the room, Magda trotting behind him.
They all sat in silence. Elena was the first to speak.
“Why did he not accept the offer?” Elena’s puzzlement was thorough. She searched all their faces.
Gabriel shrugged. “He is comfortable here. He likes his work.”
Lynette tried. “He does not know us well enough to trust us with his life.”
“Why Wilson did not take the muffin is the bigger question,” Gabriel said, only half joking.
“That I have the answer to,” Meryon said, thinking of his conversations with Blix. “Wilson refused it for much the same reason he refused to go to Sussex.
“Servants are as aware of their place as their betters are and will hold on to it with a death grip, because it is what they know.”
The three nodded and Meryon went on. “Elena.” He waited until she was looking at him. “Sussex, if not the muffin, required too big a leap of faith.”
MERYON, ELENA, GABE, AND LYNETTE traveled to Richmond in the same carriage. Rexton and Alicia had left earlier so the trip would not interfere with the toddler’s nap.
As a gesture of goodwill to Lord William, Meryon had allowed Mia and William to take the cabriolet, and all the way down the road he was afraid he would find them in the ditch or worse.
When they arrived at the house Meryon saw that they were safe and had already organized the amazing number of children into two teams for a game of hide-and-seek.
Gabriel, never content with contentment, had some idea that this was the time to play cricket. Meryon informed him that a duke did not play cricket after the age of thirty and that he was going to show Elena the house and then the grounds.
Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03] Page 30
