by Claire Cray
The rippled muscles of his abdomen?!
“You are not seventy-seven,” I blurted.
“No,” he murmured, and let go of my hand. I heard a soft whish of fabric and then he brought my fingers to his smooth, firm face, trailing them from his sculpted cheekbone to the sharp line of his jaw.
“You are…you must not be a day over twenty-five,” I stammered, astonished, as my fingertips were drawn along the silky skin.
“I am much older than that.”
His lips moved against my fingertips when he spoke, and I felt his breath. A shiver ran through me before I could stop it, and warmth rose in my cheeks. The way he was leaning over me…
Christ’s sake.
Not again.
What in God’s name was wrong with me?
“Are you afraid of me, William?”
At least the room was dark. “No, sir.”
He slowly let go of my hand. “Can I trust you with this secret?”
I nodded, then remembered the darkness and managed to reply, “You can.”
“Good.” He trailed the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, sending another shiver through me. This one shot straight between my legs.
My heart was pounding as he returned to his side of the bed.
I could hardly think of what I’d just learned. All I felt was dismay at the throbbing stiffness between my legs and what it meant about me.
Think of Molly, I told myself. Or Susan. Or Chalice. Or Eva. Think of anyone. You just miss women. That’s all. In the dark, you get confused. That’s all there is to it!
Chapter 5
The next day, I couldn’t focus on a damn thing.
As always, Merrick sent me out on a morning expedition. As always, he explained the handful of plants I brought back. As always, I prepared my lunch and ate it quietly. As always, he turned to his books and mixtures while I did my chores.
But this time he kept his gloves off. I could not stop sneaking glances at those smooth porcelain hands or remembering how they had held mine against his body the night before. I couldn’t stop imagining that same body beneath the somber robe. I couldn’t stop thinking of the face hidden behind that hood, wondering if it looked as fine as it had felt.
I couldn’t forget the way my body had reacted, twice now, to Merrick’s touch.
And all of this was on top of my tangled thoughts about Merrick’s supposed age, his unnatural healing skills, and the enigmatic hints of more secrets.
I was exhausted by evening from worrying about it all. Merrick had me grinding an herb I’d already forgotten the name of, and I suppose I was working out my frustrations through the pestle with a bit too much fervor – for I kept having to stop and rub my aching wrist.
“Is your wrist ailing you, William?” Merrick asked from the table.
“Just not used to grinding, I suppose, sir.” I adjusted my grip and continued.
Merrick rose from the table behind me. I heard him cross the wooden floor, and I slowly stopped moving the pestle when his arms came around me on either side. He laid his hand over mine on the pestle, nudging my fingers slightly.
“Turn your wrist like this.” He swiveled the pestle around once. “Don’t press so hard. There’s enough energy in the right movement.”
“I see,” I said, blushing as his hips brushed against me. His hand on mine was cool and firm, its grip deft and sure.
“Finish this batch and leave it,” he said, and stepped away to go back to his work.
I did as he said, then put everything in its place and turned back to the table. “Is there anything else for me to do, Master Merrick?”
“No, William. Go and bathe.”
I took my night shirt and did as I was told, sighing in the lean-to as I scrubbed my body with the soft-smelling soap. Another day, no mysteries solved, and it was back to bed.
Merrick was absent when I went back into the cottage, and a small lamp was burning in the cavern along with a resin I had not smelled before. I breathed in the pleasant, musky scent and sat on the edge of the bed, brushing my damp hair from my eyes.
Behind the hide hanging in the rear corner of the cavern, a dim light flickered. It became brighter by the moment until the hide was pushed aside and Merrick emerged carrying a lamp.
“What’s down there, sir?” I asked. As soon as I said it, I felt a little surprised I’d been bold enough to ask. I supposed the oddness of the day before hadn’t stopped me from feeling strangely comfortable around the man.
“Perhaps I’ll show you sometime.” Merrick set the lamp on the stone shelf at the rear of the room and went to the resin, leaning over the smoke for a moment and then wafting it with his sleeve. The scent was hard to place, but it was very welcoming. “Was your mother much connected to her people, William?”
“My mother? To the Indians? Not as much as I guess she wished. She lived all her life in the city. She never saw her mother’s home. They often talked about it. She always wanted to get out of the city. Said she was a child of nature. But, she didn’t know anyone from my grandmother’s home country. That always made her sad. I guess she knows some things, though. Some chants and charms, even herbs, funny as it is, though she’s always afraid of being called a witch…” I left off, frowning a bit. Why was I talking so much?
Merrick had moved to stand before me now in his dark hooded robe, near the smoking resin. “And your father? What kind of a man is he?”
“He’s been dead for ages,” I said. “Since I was seven. He drowned at the docks – I don’t know how or why. He drank a bit, though, as I recall.”
Merrick’s hooded head dipped in acknowledgement.
I breathed in. “What’s that scent, Master Merrick?”
“What do you think of me, William?”
“Well,” I replied easily, “I have to say you’re a fine gentleman, sir, a master of your trade and a generous one, taking me in and treating me as kindly as you have. Though the oddities are hard to ignore, I find myself more at ease than I guess I ought to be…” Good God! My tongue was loose! Before I could think on it, I was talking again. “I don’t believe you’re seventy-seven, that is, or if you are, you must be a witch or a devil – I don’t know what other explanation there could be. Or can an herb be so powerful? Maybe you’ve found the secret to eternal youth? I wouldn’t press the matter, sir. I’m very pleased to be your apprentice.”
“Does it not bother you, the thought of living with a devil?”
“Well, I never thought much on that. I don’t think I ever believed in witches or devils. But there is something afoot here, isn’t there? There’s no herb can heal like you healed my hand, that is. And no old man as fair and fit as you.” Christ, was I still talking? “Still, it’s clear you’re more a gentleman than any man I ever have known before, and if I had to choose between you and any judge or constable or blacksmith, I’d pick you right away even if you were a devil.” Was I lightheaded? My nose was tingling, and I looked at the resin. “Master Merrick…”
“And if witchcraft were afoot? That would not give you cause to flee?”
“Flee?” I exclaimed, forgetting the resin for a moment. “Flee? I don’t know what you could do now to make me flee, sir, but…well, for me to run off and damn my own mum to prison, or put myself back in prison with the rats and rapists, sir, it would take a good deal more than witchcraft. Christ, it’d take more than anything I can come up with! You’d have to chase me out yourself.”
Merrick laughed under his breath.
That was strange. But I was more concerned with my own loose tongue. “What’s in that resin, sir?”
“A special blend to induce honesty,” Merrick said, and covered the stone dish with its lid to extinguish it.
I stared dumbly at the dissipating smoke. “Well, that’s a mite underhanded.” When he said nothing, I asked, “What did you intend to find out?”
“Whether you are sincere, and how far I can trust you.” Merrick picked up the lamp. “Goodnight, William.”<
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I watched him leave for the cellar, feeling tricked. After a minute or so, I lay back in the darkness, frowning intently at nothing.
No.
That wasn’t fair.
I got up out of bed and pushed back the hide in the doorway to the main room to let in some of the lamplight, and reached over to the stone dish to lift the lid. As I anticipated, there was still a good deal of resin inside.
Quickly, I ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a few matches from the tin near the stove, then returned to the bed and tucked them under my pillow. Then I lay on my back as always. When Merrick returned, I feigned sleep.
I lie there for a long while, unsure of how long I should wait to be sure he was asleep.
It was impossible to tell with him. His breathing was imperceptible, and he always lay still. I nearly lost my nerve. A couple of hours must have passed before I finally, with painstakingly slow movements, rose from the bed with the matches in my hand.
It only took one strike to light the resin. I cast an anxious glance back to the bed, the match still in my hand, and froze.
In the dim, flickering light, I could see that Merrick had removed his hood.
He was on his back, his face turned to the wall, his ebony hair gleaming more brightly than it seemed the feeble light should allow.
The match burned down to my fingers, and I jumped, waving it out. The heady scent of the smoke was filling my room, and I swallowed hard in anticipation of the moment I would call his name and cause his head to turn towards me.
The thought, combined with the smoke, made me lightheaded. All at once I realized what a stupid plan this was. Clearly, I had conceived it on impulse while still under the influence of this damned herb!
What the Hell was I thinking? Wake up Merrick and interrogate him? Give him a reason to throw me out after he’d been so kind? For God’s sake!
I was still holding the stone lid in my hand, and quickly replaced it on the dish to cut off the smoke. Standing so close over it, I felt a little woozy.
“What are you doing, William?”
I jumped, nearly dropping the matches as I whirled back around to face the bed. “M-master Merrick,” I stammered. “Forgive me.”
“Am I imagining that scent?”
My blood ran cold as the bed creaked. He was getting up. “No, sir. But I’ve extinguished it. Forgive me, sir. I don’t know what came over me. I had a plan to wake…to ask…” Oh, God help me. I was running my mouth again. I’d really done it this time. And how could I make excuses with the smoke still in my nose?
“I’m afraid I have become an idiot,” I blurted. Yes. That was certainly the truth. Another point for botany.
Merrick’s soft laugh was not far from me. A moment later, I felt his hand on my waist. “What were you going to ask, William?”
My mouth felt dry. “Well, if you’re practicing witchcraft. If you’re really as old as you say you are. What’s down in that other room, maybe. Why you requested an apprentice…” I was silenced by his fingers. They were pressed softly to my lips.
“It’s a shame your plan didn’t work,” he replied in his low, velvety voice.
Damn me. Damn it. I felt it again. Damn this darkness! It confounded my senses! Desperate to quell my body’s strange reactions, I struck one of the matches against the stone shelf.
Merrick’s amber eyes gazed at me with the same patient amusement I heard in his voice. His smooth face was as handsome as a Greek sculpture. His nose was straight and fine, his jawline strong and sharp, and his lips were more soft and sensual than any lips I had ever seen. His black hair fell in waves about his ears, brushing his forehead and partially covering his fine arched brows. I was gripped by an incredible urge to reach up and brush those shining locks aside, to run my fingers through them.
Oh, no. If I’d meant to calm my traitorous body, well, no plan had ever backfired as badly as this one had. “You look scarcely older than me,” I whispered stupidly.
“Yes,” he murmured, and pursed his beautiful lips to blow out the match just as it was about to burn my fingers. “And you have an interesting reaction to my proximity.”
I drew a breath as he pressed against me, against the hardness growing between my legs. “Forgive me, sir. I do not know…”
I couldn’t speak another word. He had gripped my hips in both hands and pulled me hard against him.
“Is this what you want?” He was close enough that I felt his breath on my lips.
“God forgive me,” I whispered weakly, my head falling back in a moment of dizzy despair. I felt his fingers graze my neck, tracing a path down my throat to where my nightshirt parted at the neck. My sex was as hard as stone between us, and it took all my will power not to move against him. What is wrong with me?
“Have you been with a man before?”
I stiffened, startled out of my daze by the suggestion. “No, sir,” I said unsteadily, and put my hands against his broad chest, ready to push him away and argue my case. “On my mother’s name, I never even thought…”
He released me slowly and stepped back. His hand smoothed my hair gently. A moment later he said, “Rest, William.”
I stood frozen as he returned to the bed, my entire body burning with humiliation. Not only with humiliation…but it was too humiliating to think about what else had me burning. That he had been kind enough to forgive my childish attempt to trick him, and to humor my deviance, to gently decline my body’s wanton invitation, only added to my mortification. “Forgive me, Master Merrick,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes.
“Rest, William,” he said again. “And never again toy with such concoctions without my guidance.”
“I understand, sir. It will never happen again.” So he blamed my misuse of the resin. That was some small relief. I wished I could do the same. I lay down stiffly, miserably praying for my body to settle down.
How I wished I could confidently blame the resin, or the darkness, or circulation, or any other factor for the stirrings I kept feeling when he touched me. How I wished!
Chapter 6
The next morning, I half-expected to find Merrick in the kitchen without his hood. But there he was in his chair as usual, concealed from head to toe beneath that robe, flipping slowly through an almanac. I greeted him humbly and sat at the table with some breakfast, trying to look unbothered. At least I never had to worry about meeting his gaze. With his face covered, it felt okay not to look in that specific direction.
“It’s a good day for dandelions, William,” Merrick said as he turned the page. “Do you recall how dandelions may be used in poultices?”
“Yes, sir. Along with yellow dock, it can be used to soothe dry, cracked skin and other aggravations.”
He nodded. “The weather will cool soon, and many will begin to suffer from such ailments. I’ll be needing them in some quantity. There’s a pasture I’m sure you’ve seen between the curve and the creek where you should find a large number of them, and a damp day like today is ideal for digging.”
“Yes, sir.”
I set out after breakfast with a large basket and a long tool for digging roots. It was a relief to get out of the cottage for awhile, and as soon as it was out of sight I sat down on big log by the side of the path where I sometimes took a rest.
I let my head flop back, exhaling.
Never in my life had I reacted to a man the way I reacted to Merrick. Even before he removed his hood and showed me his face – there was a strange flutter in my chest at the thought – something about the man got me…
Got me…
It was too terrible to think about. I leaned forward and dropped my face into my hands.
What the Devil was the matter with me? I’d never been like this. In fact, having always been called a rather handsome child, I’d been taught by my mum early on how to dodge the kind of lustful men who always seemed to be lurking around waiting to take advantage of a lone boy. Personally, I’d never understood the impulse. I knew a couple of lads who
dallied occasionally, and I’d perceived a few propositions myself, but I had never been the least bit curious. Another man? Why? I was never short on women to enjoy, and the thought of doing with a man what I did with them had always seemed ludicrously unappealing.
What did Merrick think? Did he really still think me innocent? God, I could only hope.
I couldn’t help remembering the way he’d gripped me close the night before. What did he mean by that? I was sure he had no designs on me. Certainly, if my young body was what he was after, he would have taken it by now. I didn’t know a man alive who’d back off at that point if he really wanted it.
No, it seemed clear that Merrick had simply been measuring my reaction – and perhaps scolding me a little for my silly tricks.
I got up slowly and continued up the path. Perhaps a long morning collecting dandelions would help me to clear my head. How absurd life had become! Back in the city, I would have been rummaging through a book shop, looking for rarities of value, breathing in the scent of old leather tomes as the dust glowed in the rays of morning sunlight that came softly through the dingy windows, while outside the noise and chatter of the city filled the air with a busy cheer. Right then, Jeremy was probably still sprawled out in one of the rooms above his father’s tavern, snoring in the arms of a naked girl or two.
And yet here I was, out on a dandelion expedition…
