Capturing the Earl

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Capturing the Earl Page 16

by A. S. Fenichel

Head in her hands, she tilted to look at him. “I am ruined. You do realize that, don’t you?”

  He would never allow such a fate to befall her. “Perhaps I will have more success at finding a way out of here.”

  Turning back into her hands, she sighed. “Be my guest.”

  Wesley spent the next hour searching every wall in the perfectly square room. He found several sources of ventilation that ingeniously brought fresh air into the underground room. He found a box of candles, so at least they would not be left in total darkness, but he did not find a way to open the door.

  Mercy had curled up in the corner of the sofa with her arms wrapped around her knees and her head buried.

  Resigned to their fate, he joined her. Leaning in, he kissed her knuckles. “Mercy?”

  “Yes, Wesley?” She peaked up, allowing him to see her vibrant green eyes.

  His name from her lips was like a balm to his soul. “I will find a way to make this turn out well. I promise.”

  A sad smile pulled at her mouth. “That is kind of you to say.”

  He wanted to yell to the rafters that he meant every word and ease her worry. He wanted to make her happy, but since they’d met, he had never done so. “I am sorry our relationship has been less than ideal.”

  The low round chuckle that shook her curls and drew her head up. “That is very gently put, Wesley. Since the moment we met, it has been rather a disaster.”

  He took one of her hands in his and slid his thumb across her soft palm before feeling the pad of each callused finger.

  She drew a long shaking breath and watched their hands intertwine.

  “Not a disaster.” He couldn’t help laughing at the memory of her spectacles being smashed on the dance floor. He loved that she was wearing the replacements now. “Why did you want to put those spectacles on when we danced so long ago?”

  Pulling her hand back, she let her legs fall over the edge of the sofa, pressed her hands with stiff arms on either side of her thighs, and faced forward. “I’m rarely asked to dance and certainly not by an earl. It was so lovely, I wanted to see you better. For the memory of the moment. I think the crushed spectacles was my penance. Perhaps we should have heeded the sign.”

  “I felt a very strong connection to you from the moment I saw you and wanted very much to know you better.” Nerves tightened his throat, but it was only the two of them and it was unlikely they’d be rescued before morning. It might be his only chance to tell her these things.

  “No. You thought me ridiculous. How could you not? You felt sorry for me and to ease that discomfort, you purchased these spectacles, though how you obtained the right lenses, I do not know.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “I asked Nick if he knew what doctor you used and he gave me several possibilities. The morning after the ball, I sent my valet around to those physicians and obtained the information.” It hadn’t been very difficult or a secret as to how he’d replaced her property.

  “Very clever.” She shivered.

  It was cool in the room in the ground. He had no jacket to offer her as he’d left his room in only his breeches and blouse. Opening his arms, he said, “May I keep you warm?”

  Those expressive eyes stared at him a long moment before she gave the slightest nod that accompanied a shrug as she leaned toward him.

  The moment was meant to be savored, as he wrapped his arms around Mercy Heath. She didn’t push him away or worry about a crowd of people spotting them. She sank into his embrace, as if it were where she’d always been meant to rest. Her silken hair slid along his jaw where her head tucked against his shoulder.

  A low contented sigh pushed from her sweet lips. “Why must this feel so right?”

  He’d wondered the same thing about her a hundred times. “Perhaps it is right, Mercy.”

  “You want to marry Aurora and get your land.” Her voice was flat but there was no accusation, just facts.

  “Yes. I had a very well laid out plan.” He spoke mostly to himself

  “Do you think we might not speak? Could you just hold me and forget about good plans and the inevitable morning mess I will be in? For these next few hours might we pretend this is right and good?” Her voice broke just enough for the emotions of her plea to pierce his heart.

  “I will do whatever you wish, Mercy.” Easing back against the cushioned arm of the sofa, he pulled her with him. Her nightgown was the only thing between his hands and her flesh. The effect made his head spin and other parts of him suffered from heightened awareness as well.

  She lay half on top of him, her knee slid along his thigh.

  Bringing his legs up, he entwined his bare feet with hers. “Mercy?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you more than I ever wanted anything in my life. You must know that. I want to see you cry when you play music. I want to rescue you with a handkerchief. When you feel ill, I want to be the one to see you well again. I want to make love to you and show you all the wonders of what can exist between a man and a woman.” He closed his eyes and waited for her to slap him.

  She pressed her hands against his chest, and he looked into her curious gaze. “You want to do all of those things while you are married to Aurora and in possession of her lands in Cheshire?”

  “I do not want to marry Aurora. She is lovely and bright and she owns the land I need.” His heart pounded as he watched his legacy float away.

  “Aurora would make a wonderful wife for any man.” Mercy continued to watch him. “You would be lucky to have her.”

  “I am aware of that.” His jaw hurt from the strain of clenching his teeth.

  “If I made love to you, Wesley, I would have to walk away from my friend. How could I look your wife in the eye after we’d been intimate? Don’t you see, as much as I desire you, it cannot happen. I’m not cut from the kind of cloth that makes a good mistress, with secrets and assignations.” She drew in a shuddered breath. Her hair fell across her eye.

  Wesley tucked it behind her ear. “I will not marry Aurora, Mercy. I told you, I will make this right and I meant it. When we are discovered in the morning, I will tell your aunt of my intentions to marry you.”

  “Marry me!” She pushed away from him.

  The squeal was so out of character, Wesley flinched. He recovered quickly enough to take hold of her wrists and keep her from moving off. “Of course, I will marry you. Do you think I would allow you to be ruined? I may have wished to wed to better my family’s position, but I am a gentleman, Mercy.”

  The expressions in her eyes changed so quickly, he didn’t know what he’d seen. Was it fear, worry, anger, or had he imagined an instant of joy? When she spoke, there was something resolute in her voice. “I don’t know what to say.”

  A knot tightened within him. “Say you want to marry me too.”

  She disengaged her wrists from his hold and sat up. “It doesn’t matter what I want. To marry because you are forced into it by an accidental circumstance cannot make for a happy marriage. You would come to resent me for what I’d cost you.”

  Cost him? Was she mad? He stood. “Mercy, I want you. This…” He waved a hand at the room. “Is just the means of getting me what I want.”

  Standing, she faced him. “I will not marry because of this odd circumstance, but if you promise not to marry Aurora, we might have this one night together. Anyone else, but not Aurora.”

  Of all the possible things he’d thought she’d say, that was not even on the list. Never in his life did he expect Mercy to refuse his proposal and offer her body all in one breath. Caught between elation and heartbreak, what did one say? “You do not owe me anything, Mercy. I have realized in the last few days that I can never marry Aurora and see you regularly without touching you. There could be no happiness in that ending.”

  She moved closer until her body pressed to his ever so lightly. “It is
not a matter of debt but a matter of need, Wesley.”

  The tips of her pert breast touched his chest and her abdomen pressed to his. He longed to grip her bottom and pull her close. “You are killing me. Please, Mercy, do not offer me half of what I want. I am not man enough to resist.”

  Delicate as a flower, she raised her hand and cupped his cheek. “Why should you resist? I’m not a girl of sixteen who doesn’t know what she offers. I may be untried in the bedroom, but I’m old enough to know what happens there. I understand desire far better than I ever have before.”

  “Mercy.” The plea in his voice was unmistakable. He needed her, wanted her physically, but so much more.

  Drawing a deep breath, she lifted on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “There are two possible ends for me, Wesley. I shall either die a spinster, or I shall marry a man whom I can never love. Personally, I prefer the first. But, tonight, here and now, I can know what it is to be loved entirely. In this room I am the only woman in your world and for a time, I can pretend this is reality.”

  “Tomorrow, when we are found, I will offer for you. Why can you not see that option?” He slid his hands from her shoulders to her elbows and drew her in until only their lips did not touch.

  “There is no tomorrow.” She closed her eyes and lifted her chin. Her lips parted just enough for him to glimpse the tip of her pink tongue.

  Helpless, he dove in and devoured her willing mouth. Sweet and warm, she was a confection he couldn’t get enough of.

  A soft moan escaped as she toyed with the hair at the back of his neck.

  Rigid with desire, he let his imagination meet reality and gripped her bottom, pulling her hard against him.

  She issued a sharp gasp as his shaft pressed against her center. He couldn’t blame her; he wanted to call out a hooray at how perfect she felt.

  The silken strands of her hair slid over his hand and even that was erotic. He tasted each lip separately then both together. Diving his tongue between her lips, he sipped her essence and the addiction was true and heady. Her tongue touched his with sparks of even finer things to come.

  Kissing her and holding her should have been enough, but the promise of more was too great a gift for any man to resist. He gripped her hair and pressed desperate kisses along her jaw and throat. Her pulse ticked against his lips fast and hard. His body thrummed as desperately. “Mercy, tell me to leave you alone. Tell me this is wrong.”

  Gasping for breath, she said, “I don’t want to stop.” Those deft hands that breezed so effortlessly against the strings of a harp or the keys of the pianoforte slid down and unbuttoned the fall of his breeches before he could think to stop her.

  “Mercy.” He didn’t know what else to say. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, unpracticed but sweet and deviously delicious.

  She wrapped one leg around his, pressing her core to where her hand held him. Her groan vibrated inside him.

  Grabbing handfuls of cotton, he worked her gown up until it forced her to release him. She lifted her arms, and he pulled the gown over her head. Her hair fell wildly in her face, and he brushed it back, cupping her sweet face in both of his hands. He kissed those full lips gently. She was his. Let the world and his family be dammed.

  He stepped out of his breeches and pulled his blouse over his head. All their clothes lay in a heap on the floor as he wrapped his arms around her back and lifted her.

  She wrapped her long legs around his hips and the way their bodies nearly joined made him lose a step. “You are more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.”

  He eased her onto the sofa and kissed his way down her elegant neck to her chest. Making a pass over one nipple, she arched into his mouth and called his name. Unable to resist, he sought out the other and gave it equal pleasure.

  With another cry, Mercy gripped his hair, pressing him tighter to her flesh. He longed to taste every inch of her and continued down her slim waist and hips. He left a trail with his tongue down her inner thigh, bending the knee and kissing the sensitive skin at the back before making his way back up to her sweet center and slipping his tongue inside her.

  No honey had ever tasted sweeter. He might never get inside her; his body was near bursting at just the taste and feel of Mercy. It wouldn’t matter as long as she had her pleasure. He swirled his tongue around her folds and the sensitive bud above.

  Mercy let out the sweetest, softest keels as she pumped her hips against his mouth and found her release.

  Holding her close until the waves passed and her breathing softened, he kissed her between her breasts. “You are magnificent.”

  “I want to give you pleasure as you have given me,” she whispered.

  Perhaps if she had not offered more, he could have walked away, but he was not a saint. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he lifted her to straddle his lap then rose and carried her to the desk.

  Her sultry smile accompanied a raised brow. “Oh, this is wicked.” She took her hands from his neck and placed them flush on the desk behind her, leaving herself open to him.

  The door lock released.

  “Someone’s coming.” He moved to shield her from the door.

  “No. My hand pressed some kind of panel. I think that is what opened the door.” She picked up her right hand and after a long moment the door locked again.

  It was some kind of sign that he was wrong. He’d never believed in signs before, but all that searching for a way out and now they had found it. Wesley pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You should put your nightgown on and go back to bed. I will stay here and be found in the morning. I think Mr. Arafa would know someone was in here and it is better that they find me alone. Your reputation will remain safe.”

  Sitting up, she crossed her arms over her chest, hiding herself from him. “You…you want me to go?”

  He ran the back of his knuckles down her soft cheek. “I want you safe from any harm. Both the harm I might do and the harm of gossip. Mercy, do this for me. Go back to your room.”

  Rising to her feet, she went around him, careful not to touch him. She pulled her gown over her head and with a rigid back walked to the door, which had locked again.

  “Mercy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t think I am sending you away because I don’t care. I care very much.” The pain in the center of his chest was so acute, he wondered if he might be actually dying of a broken heart.

  She studied him from across the room. “I understand completely. I’m quite bright, you know.”

  “Brilliant actually.” He smiled and hoped she saw how much he regretted not having the entire night to love her.

  Running his hand along the top of the desk, he found the panel and pressed down.

  The lock snicked open, Mercy pushed passed it and disappeared down the hall.

  Wesley let the door lock, dressed, and sat on the sofa waiting for morning. If he was lucky, Geb or Kosey would find him before breakfast. If not, Mercy would leave him there to rot for all eternity. Who could blame her?

  Chapter 15

  Mortified by her own behavior and embarrassed that Wesley had sent her away rather than take her virginity, Mercy made sure the last of her things was packed in her trunk.

  She had always been told men valued virginity. At least he wouldn’t feel obligated to offer for her. No one need ever know what had transpired or what had been said. She would just forget the entire thing.

  Oh, but the way he’d touched her, how could anyone forget such pleasure?

  Wesley knew as well as she did that he was too far above her station for anything to come of one night of passion. He’d been kind when he’d said he wouldn’t let her be ruined, but he must feel the utmost relief that he had avoided being held to that fate.

  At least he’d been found late enough that she’d finished breaking her fast before he arrived in the d
ining room. She didn’t know how she would endure the trip to Cheshire. He would return to courting Aurora. There was nothing to stop him.

  Though, he had promised not to.

  Still, no one knew about the indiscretion and he would likely forget it soon enough. He needed the land to right a wrong done by his grandfather. She understood, but it made her want to cry when she thought of watching Aurora marry him.

  Shaking her head, she stood and pushed the lid of her trunk closed and scolded herself, “Aurora is not going to marry him. She doesn’t wish to marry again. Stop your nonsense.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Faith popped her head in the room.

  Mercy sighed. “Myself. Did you hear me?”

  “Just talking, not the content.” Faith put her hand out for Mercy to join her. “Shall we go down so the footmen can get our trunks loaded?”

  Taking her friend’s hand, she swallowed down her worries. “Yes. Let’s go. You have a long trip back to London and I’m off to Cheshire.”

  “Is something troubling you?” Faith stopped them just three steps down from the upper-floor landing.

  “No. I didn’t sleep well last night is all. I’m just tired.” It was a half-truth and she hated not sharing everything with her fellow Wallflowers, but some things had to remain secrets.

  Faith pulled her into a hug. “I suppose you’ll tell me the rest when you’re ready.”

  It was no surprise that Faith detected something was missing. They continued down the stairs. Mercy took Faith’s hand at the bottom. “I shall miss seeing you every day. It has been a treat for all four of us to be together like this.”

  Rumple barked and ran through the foyer with Jamie, the house boy, running after him. “Rumple!”

  Laughing, Faith smiled. “It was not quite like school or before Poppy married, but it was rather wonderful. Perhaps we shall make a new pact to spend some weeks away together annually until we are all too old to travel.”

  “That is a marvelous idea.” Aurora entered the foyer in her sky-blue travel dress and wrapped in a shawl.

 

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