She reached for the brass knocker. Before she could even use it, the cadaverous butler opened the door. “Miss Cassell,” he said in his cool elegant tones as he let her in and took her wrap. “How delightful to see you again. Come into the sitting room, and I’ll tell Madam that you have come calling.”
“No! I mean, please don’t. You see...” Her voice diminished to a breathy whisper. “I’ve... I’ve actually come to see Chri... Lord Bedlington.
The butler’s brows rose. “Indeed. I’ll endeavor to fetch him. However, it might take awhile. I suspect he is... rather indisposed at the moment.”
He left the room, leaving Merissa to lurid speculation about what Christian had done to render himself “indisposed” at one o’clock in the afternoon. She could imagine Christian and Lady Diana together, Christian doing to that painted strumpet the very things he had done to her.
Jealousy rose hot and angry inside her. She jerked around, prepared to abandon her plan and flee back to Whytcliff. Then she took a deep breath. No, she could not think of her own feelings in this circumstance. She had to remember her purpose. All the people she loved whose futures hung in the balance.
She walked to one of the exquisitely made chairs grouped by the fireplace and sat down. Her fingers clutched nervously at the flowered muslin of her gown. She’d considered wearing the pink silk that had so inspired Christian’s interest the night before but decided it would be too brazen. Her second best gown would have to do, although it was high-necked and prim by comparison. But, then, Christian already had a fair idea of what womanly charms she had hidden beneath her clothing. A very fair idea.
Heat rose to her face and she began to fidget. Could she be certain that she wasn’t doing this at least partly for herself? So she might wallow in the mindless bliss Christian’s skilled mouth and fingers had already offered? One night of heaven before she began her lifetime of penance?
Oh, she was disgraceful. No matter how she pretended she was making a supreme sacrifice, the truth was, part of her would enjoy her debauchery.
She jumped up as someone cleared their throat. “Lord Bedlington will be down shortly,” the butler announced. “He did ask me to inquire if you’d received his note.”
“Note? What note?” Merissa furrowed her brow. “I passed a groom on the road here, and I thought I recognized him as one of the Northrup servants. But I was in a hurry and did not stop to speak to him.”
The butler nodded. “I see. I’ll tell the earl as much.”
~ ~ ~
“Miss Cassell never received your letter, sir,” Ginter said. “Nor did she give indication why she is here. If I had to conjecture on her mood, I would say that she was nervous. Quite unsettled about something.”
Christian jerked the hot towel off his face and motioned away the valet who was preparing to shave him. “Nervous? You’re certain you don’t mean angry? You’re certain she doesn’t look as if she means to bite my head off?”
“No, sir. That would not be my interpretation of her mood at all.”
Christian leaned back in the armchair and indicated that the servant should continue his ministrations. A groan escaped his lips. By God, he wasn’t really up to this. He knew how he felt about her. His body still throbbed with the memory of the intimacy they’d shared. His body wanted more, much more, and it was not happy about the unexpected denial.
The note he’d finally written last night was a mistake. It was just well she had not received it. He needed to speak to her in person, to explain that he was actually doing her a favor by refusing to continue their acquaintance. That he was being uncharacteristically noble about the whole thing.
He didn’t expect her to like it. But breaking things off now was the proper course of action. His conscience, long unused though it might be, had made that quite clear.
Unfortunate she wasn’t angry. Regrettable she hadn’t come here with her blue eyes flashing and her delicate face flushed with fury. He wished she would slap him and put him down properly. Tell him that he was a cad and a knave and that she never wanted to see him again. That’s what he deserved, and it would make it so much easier for him to remain strong in his resolve.
Of course, Merissa angry was still a provocative, enchanting sight. Even if she raged at him and called him every vile name she could think of, he would continue to desire her passionately. Her spirited nature was part of what drew him, excited him...
“Do try to hold still, my lord,” the young man shaving him cautioned. “I’m almost finished.”
Christian endured the rest of his toilette as stoically as he could. Then, freshly groomed and his cravat perfectly arranged, he went down to the sitting room.
He took a deep breath and went in. Merissa was seated by the fire. She jumped up when he entered, and something inside Christian gave a helpless sigh. She was so affecting. Simply being in the same room with her made his heart race and his thoughts dissolve.
He forced himself to walk casually towards her, to smile and bow with polite formality. “Miss Cassell, what a pleasure to see you again.”
She hardly seemed to take notice of his stilted speech. Her slim, gloved hands clutched tightly together and she regarded him with a strange, almost stricken expression. “My lord,” she said. “I have a proposition for you.”
Proposition? What the devil? “Would you... er... perhaps we should sit down.”
She nodded and returned to her chair. Christian sat across from her. Her tense mood seemed to be contagious. His body felt as tight as a bow string.
“I... I need money,” she said. “Quite a great deal of money. It may be very presumptuous of me, but I thought... after last night...” Her gaze, which had heretofore focused on her lap, jerked up to meet his. “I thought you might be willing to pay me for... for...” Her voice, already reduced to a frail whisper, failed completely. Her pale countenance suffused with color.
Christian found himself stunned speechless. Of all the conversations he had imagined since the announcement of her arrival, this remarkable “proposition” was outside the realm of his wildest musings. Merissa Cassell, sweet, naive, very proper Miss Cassell, wanted him to take her to bed for money?
She rose. “You don’t have to answer right away. It is a great sum of money, even for someone like you.” She went to the escritoire and began to fidget with the parchment he’d left laying there.
“How much money?” he finally managed to ask. “You haven’t said.”
She jerked around to face him. “Twenty thousand pounds.”
He wanted to laugh. The only reason he restrained himself was that she looked so deadly serious. Her eyes were huge behind her spectacles. Her mouth was drawn into a grim line.
“What do you need the money for?”
“It’s really none of your affair, is it?” she snapped, then flushed again.
Christian felt a flood of relief. Merissa snarling and hissing he could manage. It was seeing her act like a mouse offering itself up to a cat that unnerved him.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll set that matter aside for a moment. But I would need to know what you are... er... offering in exchange.”
“One night.” Her voice was clipped. “I won’t be your mistress. I won’t humiliate my family by carrying on a long-term arrangement.”
“And during that one night, you would... ?” It was cruel, but he couldn’t help himself. The titillating images that filled his mind overwhelmed him.
“I would do whatever... whatever you wished.”
Oh, he could well imagine she would. Merissa Cassell was an extraordinarily passionate and responsive woman. She would melt like wax in his arms.
Except of course he couldn’t accept her offer. It was too crude and indecent an arrangement. She really had no idea what she was about, what it did to a woman to trade her body for money. Even if he gave her the most splendid night of lovemaking a man could offer a woman, some part of her would be damaged by the experience. She would end up feeling cheap and tawdry,
used. She would never again be his bold, beautiful, wonderful Merissa.
He rose and paced across the room, trying to think of a graceful way out of this, for both of them. “Obviously, you are desperate,” he said. “Obviously, you feel you have no other choice.”
“Yes.”
Her frankness was a bit off-putting. If he refused her, was there some other man she would go to with the same offer? Was she really that frantic for money?
“If I refuse, what will you do?”
“Are you refusing me?”
She looked so devastated, he immediately said, “No, no, I’m not refusing you. I’m merely trying to discover...” What was it he wanted to know? If she cared for him at all? If part of the reason for her offer was that she wanted him to make love with her? “I have to know,” he continued. “I have to know that you would truly enjoy it—the one night, I mean. I am not the sort of man who takes women to bed who aren’t willing, completely willing. I’m not aroused by... coercion. If you did not enjoy the experience, I would not get pleasure from it either.”
This seemed to startle her. She blushed furiously. “All right.” Her voice was almost inaudible. “If you insist I say it, then I will. I’m certain I will enjoy it.”
He brutally repressed the grin that threatened. So, he was correct. She did perceive that a night together would not be such onerous duty after all.
Suddenly, he made up his mind. He would give her the money. He would prove that he really wasn’t simply a selfish, cold-hearted blackguard out for his own pleasure. But first, he wanted to know a little more about what sort of trouble she was in.
“You know,” he said, “twenty thousand pounds... Even for me, it’s a substantial sum.”
“You don’t have it?” She frowned. “I thought certain you did.”
“Oh, I have it. But despite what you might think, I’m really not given to throwing money around imprudently. I like to know where it’s going, if I’m making a sound investment. That’s why I really do need to know what you intend to do with it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too distressing. But I can tell you that it’s not for me. I need the money to help someone else.”
Ah. He might have known that the mysterious absent brother was behind this. The poor fellow was probably badly dipped. Christian had seen this sort of thing all too often. Green country boys went to London and got a taste for the gambling life. Before they knew it, they’d lost everything they owned and were in debt for sums they could never possibly repay. There were all sorts of pitiless monsters in London who made their living taking advantage of poor devils like Charles Cassell.
His attention returned to Merissa. She was trembling now, no doubt fearing he really would refuse to help her. He took her hand and led her back to her chair by the fire. “Sit down. We’ll work this out somehow, I promise you.”
She nodded, looking vastly relieved.
“I’m willing to give you the money,” he said, “but not under the terms you’ve stated. I want it to be a gift. I will help you... as a friend.”
He wanted to give her the money. The notion amazed Merissa but filled her with unease. If she accepted his offer, she would be forever beholden to him. Could she live with that sort of debt hanging over her? “No,” she said, “I couldn’t possibly accept it as a gift.”
“Why not?” He looked puzzled.
“Because...” She stood once more. Didn’t he want to spend a night with her? Had she been wrong to think he found her attractive? “Because... it wouldn’t be...” She struggled for words, trying to sort out her tangled emotions “... appropriate,” she finally managed.
She closed her eyes. It was all becoming clear now. Very clear. He felt guilty for what he’d done to her the night before. And so, he was offering her a gift of money to cancel his debt. But he obviously did not want to continue the relationship. He was trying, tactfully of course, to decline that which he no longer desired.
Tears threatened, but she choked them back. “No,” she repeated. “I couldn’t take your money under such circumstances. I simply couldn’t.”
She rushed from the room and hurried down the hall. Encountering the butler, she implored him to bring her pelisse. He retrieved it from a closet and helped her into it. “Please,” she said, “if you could have my rig brought around as soon as possible.”
While the butler went to fetch a footman, Christian appeared in the hallway. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said. “I was trying to help.”
She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she feared she would begin to cry. She felt so strange, so flustered, so ashamed.
The reappearance of the butler made her almost sick with relief. “Your vehicle should arrive soon, Miss Cassell. Can I have a man help you out, or perhaps His Lordship wishes to...”
“No!” She darted to the door. Jerking it open, she rushed pell-mell down the steps.
Ginter regarded Christian gravely. “Should I have one of the grooms follow her? I’m not certain it’s safe for the young lady to be driving in such a state.”
“No. I mean, perhaps someone should follow her, but at a discreet distance.”
Ginter nodded and went out. Christian remained in the foyer, too stunned and unsettled to know what to do. He felt as if he’d made a major social blunder, one that was going to haunt him for some time to come. But how was he to know that Merissa would spurn his generous offer so vehemently?
He puzzled over the matter, trying to figure out the reason for her abrupt departure. What had he done to offend her? He’d thought he was being noble, a true gentleman. Why did she appear so appalled? How could she think it was appropriate to go to bed with him for money, but refuse the same sum when offered as a gift?
As he racked his brain, Caroline came into the hallway, the bib-clad, messy-faced toddler in her arms making her current preoccupation clear. “Isn’t that Merissa Cassell driving off in such a tear?” she asked. “I saw her through the breakfast room windows, urging those old nags on as if the hounds of hell were after her. What’s happened, Christian? What have you done to upset her this time?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “In all honesty, I really don’t know.”
“Well, don’t you think you should go after her?”
Christian thought a moment then shook his head. “If I followed her now, I fear she’d take her riding crop to my face. I think it might be better to wait until she cools down.”
“What was she doing here?” Caroline asked. “Did she receive your note and come to take you to task for your poor treatment of her last night.”
“Not precisely.”
Caroline raised her brows. “What, then? What’s transpired between the two of you?”
Christian looked at the squirming child she carried. “Perhaps you should carry on with giving Michael his breakfast while I explain. It’s not a simple tale, I’ll warn you.”
In the cheery breakfast room, Christian watched Caroline’s expression turn to amazement as he regaled her with the details of Merissa’s purpose in coming to Darton Park.
“She offered to... ?” Caroline put down the spoon of mashed orangish substance she’d been attempting to insert into little Michael’s uncooperative mouth. “My, my. She must be utterly desperate. What in the world do you think she needs that sort of money for?”
“I’d wager anything that she needs it for her brother, Charles. Although she and her sister are absolutely hush-hush about his circumstances, it’s clear he’s in some sort of trouble. The money’s probably meant to settle his gambling debts.”
Caroline clucked sympathetically. “He wouldn’t be the first young fool to get himself in such a scrape.” She attempted another spoonful, then added, “So, what did you do, Christian? Embarrass her by pointing out the impropriety of her proposal? Or, worse yet, did you accept her offer and send her into a vapors now that she realizes what she’s done?”
“Neither. I offered to simply give her th
e money. That’s when she turned three shades of scarlet and ran off.”
“Mmmm. Well, it’s a trifle unexpected that she would act that way, but not altogether unreasonable. I suppose she thought your making her a gift of the money was insulting.”
“Insulting?” Christian felt himself grow angry. “Why is it insulting? I’m offering to save her virtue and her brother—and at no little expense to myself. I know you and Devon are very well off, but you must admit that twenty thousand quid is a substantial bit of blunt!”
Caroline shrugged. “In some perverse way, your suggestion could be seen as a rejection. If you didn’t say otherwise, it’s as if you’re implying that you don’t think a night with her would be worth such a sum.”
“That’s not it at all! Gads, I would probably spend twice that if I could take her to bed under circumstances where my conscience could be clear! But I knew that wasn’t the case. I knew she’d end up hurt and humiliated if I accepted! I was trying to spare her!”
“Did you tell her that?”
“No, of course not!”
“No, of course not? Really, Christian, sometimes you just don’t think.”
“Thinking doesn’t help, believe me.” Despite his aggravation over being so grossly misunderstood, Christian was beginning to comprehend Caroline’s point. He’d played with Merissa, forcing her to admit that she desired him, then abruptly offered the money as a gift. She must think him a callously manipulative bastard.
“Damn! I’ve done it now,” he said glumly. “I’ve backed her into a corner. She can’t take the money without sacrificing her pride. I wonder where she’ll turn, now that I’ve failed her? What will she do?”
“I don’t know,” Caroline said. “But I suggest you waste no further time in going after her.”
Christian put down his lukewarm tea and got to his feet. “But what will I say? How will I convince Merissa that I truly want to help her?”
Earl of Scandal (London Lords) Page 11