“Shh.” His head descended and she closed her eyes. Before she could process what was happening, he slid his warm palm against her cheek and cupped her chin, stroking her jaw with his thumb. Tugging her lightly, he pulled her closer and took possession of her mouth. Sparks exploded behind her eyelids. Heat rushed from her belly up to her face, stopping along the way to set her heart to thundering. She slid her palms up Penrose’s chest, resting her hands on his shoulders. Firm and warm.
In a quick move, he crushed her breasts against his hard chest, shifting his head, allowing him better access to slip his tongue into her mouth as she gasped. Had she not been holding firm to him, she would, indeed, have melted to the floor in a puddle of hot liquid.
After plundering her mouth, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, his fingers playing with the soft skin behind her ears. “As a gentleman, I should apologize, but I hope I haven’t frightened you.”
Merry drew her head back. “I don’t frighten easily.”
His hands dropped to his side. “I’m sure you don’t, but perhaps in this instance you should.”
She turned and fled the room, her emotions in a turmoil.
What have I just done?
Penrose slumped in his seat, his member rock hard from the kiss he’d shared with Merry. She was everything he was afraid she’d be. Warm, soft, and passionate. Her huge blue eyes, darkened by desire, stared into his before she’d run from him. Despite her enthusiastic response to his touch, she was an innocent. And not someone he should be trifling with.
I will not marry without love.
Too bad she wasn’t suitable, she would make a wonderful duchess. Proud, courageous, and graceful. He grinned. As long as she kept her mouth closed in public. But, oh, how he’d like to rile her in private, and watch all that anger turn into passion.
For him.
He stretched his long legs out and crossed his arms. Her comments about his duty stung. If he truly intended to never marry, he needed to take his brother in hand and prepare him for his role as duke should something happen to him. Brandon also needed to be encouraged to marry and fill the nursery, as Miss Chambers had so untactfully noted.
If he’d thought it a mistake to rely on Brandon when he’d first approached him about his decision not to marry, over time his brother’s lack of interest in the estate confirmed his suspicions. Perhaps he should reconsider, and find a wife for himself. Someone befitting the title duchess, who already had a place in Society.
He groaned at the idea of presenting himself in London, and making the rounds of balls, musicals, and routs next Season to find a suitable bride. Giggling girls just out of the schoolroom would be dragged across the floor by their determined mamas once he appeared. Could he subject himself to several months of that?
Once more, Miss Chambers invaded his thoughts. She of the beautiful face, fine figure, and outspoken manner. He sighed and picked up the candle next to him for his trek upstairs to bed. It was best to forget about the woman. She was not the mistress type, and he would never consider marriage to someone as audacious as the former governess.
But with the state she’d left him in, perhaps it was time to make a visit to his widow friend sometime soon.
Chapter 6
Early the next morning, Merry hurried to the stables to meet Lord Brandon for their outing. Having practically been raised on a horse, she was thrilled to have the chance to ride once again. Bedford Hall had an impressive stable, and she often rode when she had the chance. But amid all the upheaval with Lord and Lady Bedford’s deaths, and preparations for the move to Penrose, she’d hadn’t ridden in weeks.
Ballard led a dark grey mare from the stable as Lord Brandon joined her.
“Oh, what a beauty!” Merry ran her gloved hand over the magnificent horse’s velvet nose. “What is her name?”
“Aphrodite, miss.”
She beamed. “A perfect dub.”
“Good morning, Merry. I must admit this is not my favorite time of day.” Lord Brandon’s drawn face and bloodshot eyes confirmed his words.
“I could ride by myself. I’m an experienced horsewoman.” Her gaze roamed his face. “You do look as though you could use more sleep.”
“No. It would not be a good idea for you to ride alone. You’re not familiar with the land, and I would hate for something to happen to you.”
“Don’t concern yourself, brother, I will be more than happy to escort Miss Chambers on her ride.” Dressed in the height-of-fashion riding clothes, Penrose strode toward them, pulling on tan leather gloves.
Merry’s stomach clenched. The light of day only intensified his good looks. Had those full lips actually ravished hers last night? His glance at her was warm, without the hint of disapproval she’d always seen before.
Be careful. He is a duke, and you can’t afford to allow your thoughts to wander in that direction.
“Miss Chambers would you mind terribly if I excuse myself?” Lord Brandon’s eyes pleaded with her.
“Of course she doesn’t mind. You best search out Cook for one of her tonics.” The duke turned to Ballard. “Is Tafoya ready?”
Merry stood, her mouth agape, as Lord Brandon gave her a short two-finger salute and hurried to the house.
“Excuse me, Your Grace, but I would prefer to answer for myself.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t even know, do you?” She shook her head. “Lord Brandon just asked me if I minded him not riding with me, and you answered.”
“Do you mind him not accompanying you?” He looked genuinely confused.
“That is not the point.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “What is the point?”
“Never mind. This conversation is a waste of words.” Before he could assist her, she stepped on the block and settled on the sidesaddle, adjusting the deep blue skirts of her riding habit over her legs.
Penrose gracefully mounted his horse and took up the reins. “Are you ready? I wouldn’t want to start off without asking.”
Merry smirked. “Yes. I’m ready.”
They rode side-by-side down the path leading from the house, neither one aware of the narrowed eyes watching them from the schoolroom window.
Despite the cold, late fall air, the sun shone in the rarely clear sky, reaffirming Penrose’s decision to begin taking morning rides. Lord, he missed this. For a while he could forget his duties and just enjoy a ride with a beautiful woman at his side.
And beautiful she was. Her velvet riding habit hugged her curves delightfully. The deep blue brought out the color of her eyes, which sparkled with pleasure as she inhaled deeply, causing his attention to shift to her breasts. Just the right size for his hands, he imagined their silky softness.
“Do you ride every day, Your Grace?”
Her question drew him from his reverie. “No. In fact this is the first time I’ve ridden for pleasure in a while.” He slanted a look at her. “I thought we agreed last night to dispense with ‘Your Grace’?”
“’Tis not proper. You are my employer.”
“Not so. You are employed by my mother who, as I’m sure she’s told you with a great deal of satisfaction, has her own funds to do with as she wishes.”
“True. But I am not of your world.”
He grinned. “You sound like Miss Jennings.”
“The perfect governess?” Her eyebrows rose, one side of her mouth tilted.
Ready to take umbrage at her remark, instead he threw his head back and laughed. “Miss Jennings may be aware of your position in life, but I believe you are not.”
She bristled. “I understand your class structure, I’m no fool. However, as I was not raised with all the nuances your way clings to, and being from America where one is judged by what one does, not by one’s birth, I find it hard to swallow.”
“Ah yes, the American method. Anyone of ability may rise to the top.”
Merry drew her shoulders back. “And a fine system it is
.”
He grinned. “As you say.”
God, how he loved baiting her. She was all spit and fire. Right now her eyes flashed and two bright red spots appeared on her cheeks. Her chest heaved, bringing his attention once again to those delectable breasts. If he didn’t get himself under control soon, the ride would be a tad uncomfortable.
All the women of his acquaintance, including the young misses of the Marriage Mart he stopped visiting a few years ago, fell at his feet and agreed with everything he said. He was used to tittering, flirting, adoration, and admiring glances cast above silk fans. Merry Chambers did none of that, and he found the change refreshing. Frustrating as the devil, though. The woman did not know her place.
“Shall we give the horses their head?” Merry asked, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
He swept his arm out. “Lead on.”
Merry took off at a gallop, almost leaving him behind. He squeezed his knees and Tafoya burst forth, soon overtaking the mare. Merry grinned as he passed her, and then urged her mount to catch up. He held Tafoya back so they could race alongside each other. The bracing air rushing past his face invigorated him, producing a sense of rightness and peace he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Eventually, they slowed and brought the horses to a canter, then a trot. “That was wonderful!” Merry exclaimed.
He agreed for an entirely different reason. Her topknot had come loose, with tendrils of curls surrounding her face. The exertion of running in the cold air had put color into her face. She licked her lips and he groaned under his breath, once more wanting to cover those luscious lips with his own.
Suddenly, Aphrodite reared. Merry yelped and attempted to control the beast, but the horse bucked again, throwing her to the ground. Within seconds, the mare turned and raced back toward the stables.
Penrose jumped from his horse and hurried to where Merry sat on the ground. “Are you all right?” He squatted and studied her face.
“I think so.” Merry took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what happened.” She shifted to rise.
“No, don’t move just yet. You’ve had quite a fall, and you need to be sure you didn’t break anything.”
She extended her arms and legs. “I don’t think so. I’m actually sorer on my…. Never mind.”
Penrose helped her gain her feet. When she stumbled against him, he scooped her into his arms.
She gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk.” He strode to his horse and lifted her to the saddle. With one quick motion he mounted behind her.
“This is most improper.” She attempted to cover herself with her skirts, but they’d been twisted underneath her, exposing the bottom half of her legs.
“Don’t concern yourself. We need to get you home and send for the doctor.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“That’s my decision to make.” Urging his horse, they cantered forward.
Penrose tried desperately to ignore the soft body resting on his. Her lemon scent drifted to him, tempting him further. His arm burned where it wrapped around her middle, his fingers itching to ease upward and embrace a warm breast. Thankfully, the ride didn’t take too long, since he feared she could feel his throbbing desire pressing against her bottom.
They entered the stable yard. Aphrodite stood panting, her mouth wet with white foam. Ballard ran his hands over her. “What happened, Your Grace?”
“Something hurt or spooked her, and she threw Miss Chambers. See if you can figure out what caused her to bolt like that. I’m taking Miss Chambers to the house.”
Penrose slid off the horse and reached for her.
“I can walk.”
“Not until the doctor has seen you.” He settled her in his arms.
“You are being ridiculous. I know I’m not injured.”
His lips tightened. “You are my responsibility. You will see the doctor.”
“I am not your responsibility. Furthermore, I know if I can walk or not.” She raised her voice.
“As long as you reside under my roof, you will abide by my wishes.”
“You mean orders. You, sir, are an impossible man.”
“I agree.”
The footman opened the door at their approach, his eyebrows raised at Penrose carrying Merry, with both of them snarling at each other.
“I’m taking Miss Chambers to her room. Please send for the doctor, she’s had a spill from her horse.”
Merry crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not need a doctor.”
“Nevertheless, he will be sent for.” He started up the stairs.
“I protest.”
“Excellent. You may protest in bed while you wait for the doctor.”
“You may not carry me into my bedroom.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Says who?”
Merry lowered her voice. “Miss Jennings.”
“She is the governess. I, on the other hand, am the duke.”
As they reached the top of the stairs, his mother came from her sitting room. “What in heaven’s name is going on? My poor ears have been tortured with bickering from all the way outside.”
“Miss Chambers took a fall from her horse. I’m taking her to her room while we wait for the doctor.”
“Oh my goodness. Is she badly hurt?” The dowager hurried behind them.
“I’m not hurt at all,” Merry called over his shoulder. “But His Grace is too stubborn to listen to me.”
As his mother stepped in front of them to open the door, she covered her mouth with her hand, looking suspiciously as if she tried to hold back a laugh.
“The doctor will determine if you are injured or not,” Penrose growled. He swung past the dowager and strode to Merry’s bed where he deposited her gently.
“Dear, you must leave us now.” His mother looked from him to Merry.
“Fine. Stay with her Mother, and make sure she doesn’t move until the doctor sees her.”
She smirked. “Yes, dear.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” Merry called to Penrose’s retreating back. He slammed her door.
Much to Merry’s disgust, and even though he’d found no injuries, the doctor ordered her to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Nonsense. She felt fine, and had been thrown from a horse more than once. That arrogant, stubborn man who insisted on sending for the doctor annoyed her to no end. Why she ever thought him attractive remained a mystery.
Shortly after noontime, Kitty entered the chamber, followed by a young maid carrying a tray containing soup and bread. “I brought you the lovely soup Cook fixed for luncheon.”
“You should not be waiting on me. For goodness sake everyone is acting like I’m some sort of invalid.”
Kitty directed the maid to set the tray on the table next to the bed. “I’m afraid when Penrose gets something into his mind, it doesn’t leave easily.” She snapped open the snowy white serviette and handed it to Merry. “And I have an ulterior motive. I want to begin making the plans for the Christmas Eve ball.”
“Of course. I’ll be happy to take notes.” Merry shifted to lean against the pillows.
“Eat your meal first, and then we can work.”
The duchess talked as Merry ate the delicious thick soup and fresh bread.
“The Penrose Christmas Eve Ball has been a tradition for generations. In fact, the original ball was held the Christmas after the first King George had assumed the throne. The story is passed down that he actually attended, but there has never been anything written to prove that.”
Merry laid her spoon alongside her bowl. “I am looking forward to it. Lord and Lady Bedford hosted a very small gathering on Christmas Eve each year, because they included the girls. They also had what they called a “Christmas Tree,” a tradition they learned from their German cook. Several footmen cut down a pine, and they set it up in the house. They the girls would make paper dolls, stars, and such, to hang on
the tree. It was quite entertaining, and brought a wonderful smell to the drawing room.”
“I have heard of that. Maybe we should do the same here. I’m sure the girls will love it.”
“I agree. That activity might bring a little bit of their parents back.” She wiped her mouth and placed the tray away from her. “I’m finished with my soup, and ready to plan the ball.”
Merry’s eyes shot open at the sound of young voices. “Miss Merry! We’ve come to visit with you.”
Apparently her sore body had needed the rest, for she had fallen asleep. Lady Charlotte and Lady Clare raced into her room, with Miss Jennings following behind. “Ladies always walk,” she scolded.
“His Grace wished for the girls to call since you won’t be able to join them for afternoon tea.” Miss Jennings’s lip curled and she looked so far down her nose, Merry thought the governess would become permanently cross-eyed.
“Thank you very much for bringing them.”
“It was His Grace’s wishes.” She sniffed, all her displeasure in the sound.
“What happened, Miss Merry? The duke told us you were injured in a spill from your horse.”
Merry sighed. “No, pet. I was not injured. I did fall from my horse, but aside from a few aches and−mostly in the area where I sit down−I’m fine.”
At Miss Jennings’ sharp inhale, Merry glanced at her.
“This is not proper conversation for young girls.”
Merry raised her eyebrows. “What did I say?”
Miss Jennings drew herself up. “A properly brought up lady never mentions any part of her body.”
Biting back a retort, Merry returned her attention to the girls, encouraging them to tell her all about their lessons.
After about fifteen minutes of visiting, Miss Jennings reminded the girls the time drew near for their tea. Hugging Merry fiercely, they left to return to the nursery. Their governess remained behind.
Once the latch on the door caught, Miss Jennings moved closer to Merry’s bed. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
Merry Christmas, My Love Page 26
