“Are you joking? After the way you wrecked your carriage the other night?”
He laughed. Even if they did end up in the ditch, it would be well worth it. Merissa’s excitement intoxicated him, reminding him of the first time he handled a rig and pair by himself. He had felt so free and full of life.
Ah, he thought, nothing could be finer than to race down a country lane with the wind whipping through his hair and a beautiful, wild-haired maiden beside him. His usual bored, cynical mood had completely vanished.
But when the grays showed signs of tiring, he pulled up. Giving in to the madness of the moment was one thing, but he wasn’t about to risk damaging such exquisite horseflesh for a few seconds of excitement.
He glanced at Merissa, and she beamed back at him. The picture she made took his breath away. Riotous curls, luminous skin, lush lips... She aroused the image of a wood nymph. He wanted to carry her off to the nearest copse and make love to her. Surely if he did, the woodlands surrounding them would turn to spring, the brown pastureland bursting into bloom with fragrant flowers and grasses.
“Persephone,” he whispered, “where you are, it is always summer.”
She gazed at him breathlessly, blue eyes wide behind her spectacles. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He laughed and reached out and gently removed her silver spectacles. Her eyes were even larger and more magical than he had imagined. A shimmering, almost silver blue. “My God, you’re lovely,” he said.
She stared at him as if she were as mesmerized by him as he was by her. With the faintest of sighs, he leaned forward, and allowed his lips to lightly touch hers.
So sweet. A flower opening itself to the sun.
He raised his hands to the sides of her face and cupped her delicate chin, deepening the kiss. She trembled slightly and then parted her lips to his probing tongue. He drowned, reveling in the taste and feel of her. His fingers tangled in her billowing curls, releasing the crisp scent of lavender and the headier fragrance of Merissa herself.
She smelled as a wood nymph should, fresh and wild, intangible. His breathing came fast. He struggled to keep his desire in check. His burgeoning erection pressed painfully against his breeches, and he felt the controlled, detached part of himself being wrenched away, leaving a seeking, helpless hunger. His fingers fell away from her hair and trailed’ down the smooth column of her neck, then fumbled with the fastening of her heavy cloak. He longed to discover the beguiling promise of her lithe, graceful body.
The cloak came open. Stout fabric still muffled his caress, but he could feel the contours of her breasts. Soft and rounded with high nipples which peaked against his searching fingers. She moaned into his mouth, and he moved closer to her, molding her slender form against his heated, eager body. She arched to meet him, as instinctively hungry as he was.
As his mouth tasted and his fingers reveled, in the part of his brain still capable of rational thought, Christian could not help but consider the awkwardness of their situation. They were in an open carriage, and as isolated as this place seemed to be, it was very indelicate to handle a lady in plain view of any passerby.
And she was a lady, he reminded himself. And, moreover, a virgin. And a clergyman’s daughter.
Gads, he was doing exactly what he’d sworn he would not do!
He disengaged himself and pulled away. As she stared at him, eyes still dreamy and unfocused, he arranged her cloak over her shoulders and attempted with shaking fingers to fasten the frog. “Merissa,” he said, “we must not.”
The spell shattered. Her plump mouth, still wet from his kisses, shaped a startled “o”, then let loose with an angry torrent. “You beast! You disgusting lecher! How dare you try to kiss me! How dare, you!”
Her body trembled with the force of her outrage and her blue eyes flashed fire. Christian released a sigh of regret. What a woman she was. And how delightful it would be to experience her passionate nature in a different way.
“You bastard!” she cried. “You’re smiling! You’re laughing at me!”
“No, no, never that.” He wanted to comfort her; reassure her. But he dare not. If he touched her now, he would truly be lost. He would not stop until he made her his—and the rest of the world be damned!
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Frighten! You think I was frightened? Why, you conceited, arrogant swine!” Her slender hand landed a slap on his cheek, punctuating her furious words.
Christian drew back, feeling a twinge of irritation. Why did he always end up in the wrong in these things? Merissa was not the first woman to punish him for her own lapse of control, nor even the most violent. But, frankly, he was a bit tired of the scapegoat role, and he could not resist fighting back a bit. “Hear now. It’s not as if I ravished you. Indeed, I don’t recall any resistance on your part.”
Her eyes narrowed, and Christian immediately regretted his words. It would have been wiser to endure her abuse and let her wear out her anger.
She drew back, so white with rage that her freckles stood out in sharp relief. “A true gentleman would never have tried to take such liberties,” she spat. “I can only presume that you are an unprincipled rogue who sees fit to prey on naive country girls who scarcely know what you’re about.”
Christian hesitated, then decided to fall back on his usual jaded pose. He shrugged carelessly. “That’s probably true. Which is why you should not go gallivanting about without an escort. I’m appalled that your father does not see fit to better guard your reputation.”
She blinked in surprise. “Then you admit it? You admit that you are an unprincipled rogue?”
He shrugged once more. “Since you are not the first person to make that observation, I must concede there is some validity to it.”
“You admit you are a devil, and show no remorse! Why, that is worse!”
Christian fought the tweak of his conscience, which reminded him that he’d vowed to leave the selfish, careless life behind. But he’d groveled enough before this difficult woman. Why should he care a fig what she thought of him?
He raised his hands in a show of nonchalance. “Fair warning to you, Miss Cassell. I fear I’m as much a scoundrel as you think.”
A stricken look crossed her lovely face, and Christian immediately regretted his cynical words. He should tell her the truth, that he had not planned to seduce her, but her pristine, magical beauty had made him lose his head.
“Perhaps we should start back now, sir,” she told him in a cold, even voice. “Surely it is unseemly for us to be alone together this long.” She replaced her spectacles, then faced straight ahead.
He nodded and took the reins. Gone was the mood of enchantment that had made him imagine the woman beside him as a goddess of summer. The promise of warmth and magic had vanished with Merissa’s exuberant excitement, and he felt the loss like a cold weight on his heart.
Damn, but he needed a brandy! For that matter, he longed for all the comforts of civilized life. He smothered a groan, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merissa give him a curious look.
Baggage! It was her fault that he had strayed so far from his element. Now he was doomed to a polite, boring dinner in the company of her saintly sister and absentminded father. And all the while, he’d remembered the feel of her breasts beneath the sensible serge gown, the delectable taste of her mouth, the perfume of her skin...
Lud! It was too much! He couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t.
They pulled into the yard, and Christian brought the curricle to a halt by the barn. Neither of them spoke as he helped Merissa down.
“Well, I think I’ll find William and be off then,” he said. “Give my regards to Elizabeth. And to your father, of course.”
Merissa looked startled. “What about dinner? Elizabeth invited you.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” He smiled tightly. “I must be getting back. I’m sure it will be a relief for you to be relieved of my noxious presence
.”
Her face fell, and she suddenly looked more like a lost little girl than the furious harridan who had challenged him earlier.
Christian winced at his own coldness. Poor little chit. Now that her passionate temper was spent, she was clearly feeling blue-deviled. He could read the emotions on her face like a book.
He repressed a sigh. How he would miss her charming naiveté. Not to mention her radiant smile. Her shocking language. And even her shrewish temper.
Fact was, everything about Merissa Cassell fascinated him. A pity he had decided to decline the dinner invitation.
But it was better this way, he thought as he went off seeking William. Less torture for both of them.
Given that a future together was impossible, it really was nobler of him to end things now.
Noble? Christian Faraday? Not a role he usually assumed. He left great and generous acts for men like Devon Langley. It was completely out of character for him. But wasn’t that what he was trying to do—become a better person? To pursue a more admirable existence?
A black cloud seemed to descend on him as he entered the stables. Even when he tried to do the right thing, it brought him little satisfaction or happiness. Was this a sign that it was too late for him? That he had spent too many years as a heartless, callous sort to ever reform?
He found William in a cozy backroom of the barn with Bob, the two discussing horse-training methods. Bob smoked a pipe, while William drank from a silver flask. The groom looked up guiltily when Christian cleared his throat. “My lord, I was just having a nip to keep warm.”
Christian nodded. “You might as well enjoy your comforts while you can. We’re leaving now.”
“But, I thought the Cassells had asked us—that is, you, sir—to dinner.”
“We don’t want to impose. Given the condition of the roads, I thought it best that we set off.”
William nodded obediently, and after stuffing the flask back into his coat pocket, hurried out.
William and Bob hitched the Northrup team behind the grays and Christian climbed up and took the reins, while William rode in the tiger’s seat at the back. Although Christian had hoped that Merissa would come to see them off—and give him one last fond memory of her beguiling face—it was Elizabeth who hurried across the yard as they were about to set off.
“My lord,” she cried. “You’re certain that you won’t honor us by joining us for dinner?”
Christian bowed. “The honor would be all mine, but I’m afraid I can’t.” Elizabeth moved nearer, her smooth brow creased with concern. “Pardon me, sir, for intruding, but did something happen between you and Merissa? She came into the house looking so out-of-sorts.”
“No, nothing happened.”
Elizabeth exhaled a sigh. “I’m so relieved. She’s so poor at guarding her tongue. People who don’t understand her forthright nature are sometimes prone to take offense.”
Christian smiled, thinking of just how “forthright” Merissa was. Poor Elizabeth would be even more distressed if she knew the cause of her sister’s moodiness. Christian abruptly decided that he was doing the right thing. He would not for the world destroy Elizabeth’s trust in him. Nor did he want to hurt Merissa, whose impetuous nature drew him like a moth to a flame.
He bowed again to Elizabeth. “Your servant, Miss Cassell. I’m deeply indebted to you for your kind hospitality. I pray that our paths will cross again someday.”
Elizabeth gave him a blindingly lovely smile; then he clicked to the horses and the curricle set off. As they turned onto the lane, Christian allowed himself one backwards glance at the neat farmhouse. He could swear he saw Merissa’s face at one of the parlor windows. The sight aroused an ache in his chest. As he turned onto the road leading to Derlingham, a gust of cold wind caught the curricle, and Christian had the strange sense that he had left the warmth and beauty of summer behind.
Six
“Devon.” Christian advanced quickly into the drawing room and shook his host’s hand. “I say, you’re back earlier than expected.”
“I told you that we don’t like to stay in London any longer than necessary. Caroline was miserable with missing the boys.”
“Ma’am.” Christian bowed to the elegant blonde beauty holding a chubby-cheeked baby in her arms. A small red-haired boy stood beside her. “Delighted to see you again, Lady Caroline. You’re looking as lovely as ever.”
“Bosh! Don’t be so formal, Christian. Come over and give me a kiss.”
Christian went and pressed his lips to Caroline’s cheek, then gravely shook hands with young Rafe.
“And kiss Michael, too,” Caroline insisted, holding out the baby. “You’re his godfather, after all. You should get to know each other.”
Christian bent to kiss the infant’s downy cheek. To his surprise, the child didn’t smell of dirty nappies but had a clean, sweet scent.
As his lips brushed the child’s forehead, the baby reached out and grabbed a handful of Christian’s hair. “There now.” Christian disengaged himself. “If you want to spar, you’ll have to grow a bit. I believe I outclass you in weight altogether.”
Rafe giggled. The baby burbled and gave him a toothless grin. “See, he likes you,” Caroline said.
“Nonsense, he’s merely jealous of my full head of hair. Poor little mite is nearly bald.”
Caroline laughed. “I think it means that he will be fair like me. My mother said that she despaired of my getting any hair. Then it grew in as masses of curls. A pity actually, I was hoping Michael would have his father’s coloring.”
Christian gave a mock shudder. “Better he should look like Caroline, don’t you think, Devon?”
“No doubt of it,” Devon responded emphatically.
“Well, I guess I’ll take Rafe back to the nursery and then see to dinner.” Caroline started to hand the baby to Devon and then said, “Would you like to hold him, Christian? He’s really quite well-behaved for nine months.”
Christian drew back and gave her an aghast look. “Good God, no. Just because I’ve consented to rot in the country for a few months doesn’t mean I’ll willingly sink into the appalling state of domesticity that Devon has. I have my reputation to uphold, you know, ma’am.”
Caroline laughed and transferred the baby to his father’s arms, then came and kissed Christian’s cheek. “We really are delighted to have you, Christian. I promise I will try to see that things aren’t too tedious. In fact, before we left London, we asked a few people up for a house party. Sort of a spring thaw assemblage.”
Christian brightened. “Truly? Whom did you invite?”
“The Norwoods and Lady Hanscum, Lord Weston and his new wife, the Beeches and the Archfields. Let me know if there is anyone else you would like me to ask. We’ll be having a few of the local gentry, of course. Not your usual set, but very nice people. I’m certain there will be some young ladies amongst them who would very much enjoy getting to know you.” She winked.
“I say, Caroline. Don’t be pushing any coy country misses my way. I have no intention of getting myself leg-shackled.”
“Married life is really not so bad,” Devon put in. “Especially if you find the right woman.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “I might have known you’d try to convert me to the virtues of matrimony now that you have me trapped here in Derlingham.”
“Really, Christian,” Caroline laughed. “You act as if we were holding you prisoner.”
Christian looked to Devon. “You haven’t told her about the wager?”
“I thought you might prefer to have Caroline believe you were drawn here by the prospect of spending time in the company of your friends rather than the opportunity to best me in a gambling venture.”
Christian’s mouth twitched. No matter what Devon said, he knew Caroline was in on the project of reforming Christian Faraday. He could well imagine the two of them on the way from London, trying to decide what dull, respectable miss they would pair him with.
“It wo
n’t work,” he told them. “If I ever fall in love, I’m certain it would be with some utterly unacceptable wench. An orange girl or an actress, perhaps. Or maybe a comely chambermaid.” He challenged them with a grin. “Face it. I’m incorrigible. I’ll never wed, and you don’t want me breaking some sweet thing’s heart, especially while she’s a guest of yours. If you insist on finding me female companionship, I can think of some delectable matrons whose taste runs to the same sort of liaison as mine.”
“Actually an orange girl or chambermaid would be perfectly fine,” Caroline said. “If someone like that could get you to care for them, I’d welcome her into our house and insist that everyone treat her like a duchess.”
“Indeed. Well, I know a certain young lady who might change your mind.” Christian smiled, thinking of the willful Merissa Cassell tangling with elegant Caroline Langley. “She has a tongue as tart as vinegar and scorns our whole class as a bunch of despicable libertines.”
“Really, Christian. She sounds very interesting. Where did you make her acquaintance?”
“On a desolate roadway a dozen or so miles away. It was quite dark, and she refused to yield to my vehicle. Her stubbornness resulted in my curricle ending up in the ditch. Had to have the rig towed to Derlingham for repairs.”
“Ginter mentioned you had a carriage accident,” Devon said. “He also remarked that you spent the night at the woman’s house and...” he paused for emphasis, “that you seemed quite taken with her.”
Caroline’s brows rose, and a merry smile danced on her lips. “Ginter said that? How astonishing. Is it true, Christian?”
“What? That I spent the night at her house? Yes, of course it is. But mind you, if the little baggage had her way, I would have rotted there in the ditch. It was her older sister who offered me hospitality.”
“Well perhaps we should invite both of them to our little soiree,” Caroline said. “The older sister deserves our thanks for rescuing you. And the younger one —I must say that anyone who can so nimbly manage to put Christian in his place would certainly prove an entertaining guest. Don’t you agree, Devon?”
Earl of Scandal (London Lords) Page 6