Blood pounding in his ears, Penrose sprinted up the stairs. He made short work of the distance to Merry’s room. He shifted her in his arms to open the door, then closed it with a swift kick of his foot. Thank God his mother slept like the dead and wouldn’t hear them.
Merry slid down his body, every delectable inch of where their bodies touched setting him on fire. He was drunk on her nearness, scent, and warmth, overwhelming him like no other woman in his life. She shuddered, reminding him he held an innocent in his arms.
He kissed her first with his eyes, then slowly with his mouth, nibbling at her lips. Her slight moan sent all his blood to the one place in his body he wanted to join with hers.
Merry slid her palms up his chest and held onto his shoulders as if anchoring herself. He prodded her lips with his tongue, and she opened, allowing him to sweep her sherry-flavored mouth. He leaned back. “I want to see you.”
She drew in a breath, drawing his glance to her full breasts, the nipples prominent against her gown. Quickly his nimble fingers untied the back of the garment, drawing it down her shoulders. Two perfect orbs, their surging peaks barely hidden behind a linen chemise, dried up all the moisture in his mouth.
“You don’t wear stays?”
She shook her head slightly, a slight smile gracing her lips. “No.”
“What am I to do with you, Miss Chambers?” he murmured against her forehead.
She drew back and regarded him with half closed eyelids, her voice deepened with desire. “Take me to bed?”
With no idea how sensuous she sounded, she’d almost brought him to his knees. He released the grip he had on her gown and it hit the floor in a rustle of fabric. A flick of his fingers, and the straps of her chemise slid down her arms. He sucked in a breath at the creaminess of her skin, the pouting of her rose-colored nipples.
Gently he eased her onto the bed, stretching out alongside her. He fondled one generous breast, its nipple marble hard. When she arched her back in response to his touch, his tongue licked a path from her neck to nip at the rosy peak. She drew in a sharp breath as he suckled.
He shifted his head to nuzzle and kiss her other breast. “I love your response to me.” He eased up on his elbow and tucked a loose tendril behind her ear. “I don’t want to frighten you, sweetheart. Do you know what will happen?”
“I think so. Will it…will it hurt?”
Penrose ran his fingertips over her forehead, down her cheek to her chin. “Since you are an innocent, it will hurt a bit at first. But then I assure you, the pleasure that awaits you will more than make up for it.”
“Why am I the only one with no clothes on?” The mirth in her eyes eased his concern about her fears.
“I’ll correct that situation right now.” He stood and tugged his shirt from his breeches.
Merry’s eyes widened at the sight of the bulge in the front of Penrose’s trousers. Then her gaze drifted up to his chest where he’d unbuttoned his white linen shirt and pulled it off. Her breath hitched and her stomach slid to her feet. All that golden skin, with lightly feathered dark hair down the center, leading to a place below his waist. She didn’t realize she’d licked her lips until she heard his groan.
“Don’t do that, or this will be over before it starts.” His voice sounded strained.
Her eyelids snapped open and she stared at his flushed face. A sense of power rushed through her to know she could wring such a response from this confident, arrogant man.
He stared at her for a moment before shoving his breeches down.
Oh my God. That will never fit!
“Yes it will.”
She felt the heat rise to her face, not realizing she’d spoken aloud.
Penrose climbed on the bed and ran his hand down her cheek. “Don’t think so hard. Let me be concerned about how this will happen.” He gathered her into his arms, once more kissing her with enough passion to turn her brain into mush and force any thoughts about size and fitting, to flee from her brain.
His strong hands skimmed up the sensitized skin of her back to grasp her shoulders, bringing their bodies together to rub her soft breasts against his hair-roughened chest. He nuzzled her neck, and she could feel his uneven breathing as he held her close to whisper into her ear. “You set me on fire, my beautiful vixen.”
In a feathered touch, his fingers drifted over her ribs from under her arm to her hip, where he kneaded the globes of her bottom. No longer able to deny herself, she slid her hand to Penrose’s waist, her hand wandering below until she reached that part of him that throbbed, almost as if had a life of its own.
She gasped at the feel of silk over steel. Her eyes met his as he groaned.
“Do you see what I mean? This is what you do to me.”
His hand caressed the silky skin of her thigh, moving slowly up until he covered her mons. His thumb circled her most private place, and her legs fell open almost of their own accord, wanting more of the delicious feelings he evoked. He slid his finger into her body. “You’re so tight.”
“I told you it wouldn’t fit.” Would they have to stop? Maybe Penrose could think of something to make it work, for she didn’t want this to end yet.
He added another finger, stretching her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
Her body seemed to be melting down there. The sound of his fingers working her opening brought a moan from deep inside her.
“Stop thinking,” he whispered before taking possession of her mouth again. Passion pounded the blood through her heart, chest and head. And where his fingers worked their magic, something began to build.
He pulled back and regarded her from under heavy-lidded eyes. Her fingers traced the beauty of his face. Scratchy along his jaw, smooth over his cheeks, and strong everywhere. When she reached his silky hair, she ran her fingers through it, urging his head back to her mouth.
“I’m sorry, love, but I need you now.” He spoke against her lips.
Penrose shifted and covered her body, settling between her legs. Rising on his elbows, he brushed the damp hair from her forehead, and brought his head down in another soul-searing kiss.
She ran her hands over the sleek, smooth skin of his back. His muscles rippled under her palms as he moved. He was all hardness where she was soft. A lithe and powerful animal.
His engorged flesh prodded the area where his fingers had just been. She tensed as he edged into her channel. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt, only gave her a sense of fullness.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it won’t hurt for long.”
Not sure what he meant, she jerked as he thrust into her body, burying himself deep inside her. Two tears leaked from the corners of her eyes at the intense sting.
“Shh, love. I hate causing you pain. Lie still for a moment and it will ease.” He fingered the tears away.
As the tenderness eased, she drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said in wonder.
Penrose withdrew his shaft almost all the way out, and then pushed back in again. He quickly set up a rhythm she picked up, meeting him thrust for thrust, flesh to flesh.
Merry moaned and licked her dry lips, unable to control her body’s reaction to the wonder of their joining. Yet again the area between her legs tightened, and the sense of something wonderful awaiting her swept from her pounding heart to her very core.
He grasped her right hand with his left, keeping his weight off her with one elbow.
She tossed her heard back and forth, straining, whimpering.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know. I feel strange, as if I need something. Something that’s out there that I can’t reach. Please, help me.”
Penrose released her hand and reached between them to once again fondle the part of her that brought a sigh to her lips. “Yes.” Her labored breathing matched his as he worked his fingers and pounded into her.
All of a sudden Merry exploded into a thousand pieces, a downpour of fiery sensations. Her entire body throbbed as pl
easure washed over her with each and every wave. Surely these feelings were not human, but mystical.
Within seconds, Penrose gave one final thrust and threw his head back with a groan, his magnificent body trembling before he collapsed over her.
They both panted as if they’d run for miles. She took in deep gulps of air and licked her dry lips. The intimate feeling of him lying on top of her as their hearts beat in rhythm lulled her into a sense of comfort and peace. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, reluctant to let him go. She savored the feeling of satisfaction, of having the weight of his body pressing hers into the mattress. Too quickly, he kissed her cheek, shifted his body, and then drew her into the pocket of his shoulder.
She closed her eyes, her breathing beginning to return to normal as a disturbing thought flitted through her mind like an epiphany.
Dear God, I’m in love with him.
Chapter 9
“Miss Merry, are you even listening to me?” Charlotte huffed, with arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. Merry smiled. Her former charge was growing into a young lady, with all the foils and foibles of that tumultuous age. In a few short years she would make her debut and be cast upon the Marriage Mart.
“I’m sorry, dear, I was woolgathering.” Merry ran her fingers down the girl’s smooth cheek. “What did you say?”
“I asked if you thought His Grace would permit me to attend the Christmas Eve ball?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t believe so. You are much too young.”
“Could you ask him? He likes you.”
Merry felt the heat spread from her middle to her face. All morning she hadn’t stopped thinking about last night, and what they’d done. After a brief kiss on her forehead, Penrose had crept from her bed in the middle of the night, leaving her bereft and hugging the pillow that still held his scent.
She had no idea how she would face him today. Would he regard her as a wanton who gave her favors freely? Nonsense. He’d been fully aware of her innocent state. She sighed. So many feelings and thoughts kept her tied in knots. As much as she wished to see him to assure herself he didn’t hold her in contempt, the fear of seeing derision on his face ate at her.
Fortunately she’d been granted a reprieve since he had not appeared at breakfast. Lord Brandon informed her Penrose had left early to settle a dispute at one of his tenant’s homes that had turned dangerous.
“I will ask him, darling, but don’t count on it. I’m sure he will agree you are much too young for such activities.”
Charlotte’s face fell.
“Come, let’s enjoy the freedom from your studies, and help with decorating the ballroom.”
Miss Jennings had allowed both girls the afternoon off to join in the preparations for the ball and Christmas Day. Despite Merry’s invitation to the governess to join them, she’d declined and murmured something about servants being available to do that type of work.
“It looks like Christmas in here.” The duke’s rumbling voice, along with a gust of cold air, carried from the front door, to where Merry stood in the ballroom. She immediately lost interest in directing the placement of greenery and other festive decorations.
Her stomach clenched and her heart sped up. With shaky hands, she smoothed her skirts and took a deep breath.
“So here is where you’ve all gathered.” Penrose entered the room in a whirlwind. He kissed his mother on her cheek and glanced over at Merry, his face impassive. “Miss Chambers.” He nodded.
The clenching in her stomach grew into slight nausea. Where was the warm and tender lover from last night? The man who whispered to her in the dark, who brought her to heights she’d never imagined? Sadly, the stiff and formal duke had taken his place. Then she chided herself. What did she expect him to do? Rush across the room and sweep her into his arms in front of everyone?
Yes.
“Ladies, you are doing a wonderful job. The ball tomorrow night will be a huge success thanks to all your efforts.” He smiled broadly at Charlotte and Clare who tied ribbons onto greenery.
Their young faces flushed in pleasure. Did he have that effect on every female−young and old?
“My, Penrose, you are certainly in high spirits today.” Kitty regarded him with amusement.
“I’m afraid I’ve caught your enthusiasm.”
A footman entered the ballroom. “Your Grace, Miss Jennings awaits you in the library as you requested.”
“Ah, yes. Miss Jennings. Thank you.” He turned to the women. “I will see you all at dinner. I have several things to catch up on this afternoon.” Bowing slightly, he left the room, his departure leaving her bereft.
Why would he request to see Miss Jennings?
The relief she’d hoped to feel at confronting Penrose fled. He’d treated her with the same reserve he had when she’d first arrived. Instead of the warmth from a lover, it was as if he hadn’t even remembered their time together.
The beginnings of a major headache tickled the back of her neck. As soon as the work in the ballroom was finished, she’d lie down with a lavender cloth for her head.
Several hours later, Penrose strode into the drawing room as Brandon poured himself a brandy. He glanced at Penrose over his shoulder. “Care to join me, brother?”
“Yes. Please.” Penrose walked further into the room and took the glass. “I’m glad you are the only one here. I wanted to speak with you before dinner.”
His brother raised his eyebrows. “Sounds serious.”
Penrose drank from his glass and motioned to the two chairs in front of the fireplace. He settled into one, and leaned forward, his elbows braced on his legs, the glass dangling from his fingers. He studied his brother. “I have decided to take a wife.”
Brandon made a choking sound, then coughed and wheezed for a few minutes. Once he had himself under control, he put his glass down, and took in a deep breath. “You said you would never marry.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“So it seems.” Brandon shifted in chair. “Miss Chambers?”
Penrose smiled. “Is it so obvious?”
“Only to everyone who has observed the two of you pretending to ignore each other.”
“Ah, yes. Well, you may chide me now. To your way of thinking the giant has fallen.”
“I knew it would happen one day. You never meant for me to be the heir. It was only a matter of time before you came to your senses. I am not, and never will be, fit to be the duke. I’m just surprised it has taken you this long.” He raised his glass in a salute. “And may I say I congratulate you on your choice. Had you not spoken up, I would have paid my own addresses to the woman.”
“Hands off, brother.” Penrose narrowed his eyes.
Brandon threw up both hands, palms face out. “I would never tread on your territory.”
They grinned at each other.
Merry closed the door to her bedroom and headed to the stairs. Her headache had diminished somewhat, but she’d spent the time lying in the darkened room, remembering. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so easy to do if Penrose’s scent still didn’t linger on the pillow where he’d slept. She had quickly changed her own sheet that the morning, horrified to see the smear of blood. The evidence of her indiscretion staring her in the face.
Her confusion at his reaction this afternoon remained. Hopefully sometime tonight they would have a few minutes alone, and she could talk to him, determine his feelings.
What feelings? You allowed him to take you to bed. You are certainly old enough to know what men think of those kinds of women.
She reached the partially open drawing room door to hear Penrose and Lord Brandon speaking. Knowing she shouldn’t, nevertheless she halted and listened.
“I will announce our betrothal at the ball tomorrow night.” Penrose’s voice reached her ears, causing her to take in a sharp breath.
Betrothal?
“Well done for my future sister-in-law. From governess to duchess,” Brandon said.
Miss Jennings? Every
thing inside Merry dissolved into pain. The woman had been right. With her English background, the duke would select Miss Jennings if he ever decided to marry. Apparently his meeting with her in the library was to propose a business arrangement.
Oh, how stupid she’d been. She’d given herself to a man who had no regard for her, who probably thought since she was an American, she had no morals. Is he right?
Merry’s knees went weak. He hadn’t lied. Marriage was merely a way to gain the perfect duchess, with no consideration of love. She shook her head and fought down the bile that rose to the back of her throat.
“What about the other one?”
“I have plans for her. I don’t want any complications her presence would cause in my marriage. I’ll see she is well taken care of and settled elsewhere.”
“Won’t she expect more than that? I’ve always felt the woman was smitten with you.”
“No matter. Her false assumptions will be dealt with.”
Smitten? Had the entire household noticed her attraction to the despicable man? Oh, if only the floor could open and she could drop through.
Merry stumbled backward until her heels hit the bottom stair and she fell on her bottom. She scrambled to her feet and raced up the stairs to reach her bedroom before she shattered into a million pieces.
“Obviously this will not be the typical ton marriage you had anticipated. Mother and I have been aware that your feelings for the girl are beyond the affection stage.” He sobered and swirled the brandy in his glass. “Keep in mind, Penrose, you will hear comments from some members of the ton about Miss Chamber’s background. Don’t forget, you are considered quite the catch. I would not see her subjected to derision and heartache. I am quite fond of my future sister.”
“No one will cut my duchess.”
“See that they don’t.”
Penrose nodded as his mother and Miss Jennings entered the room.
He glanced behind them. “Where is Miss Chambers?”
“We saw her at the top of the stairs, about to return to her bedroom. Apparently she has a headache, and won’t be joining us.”
Merry Christmas, My Love Page 29
