Mistress of Merrivale

by Shelley Munro

  “Not necessary,” he said, stalking her.

  “What are you doing?” Alarm flickered across her face before most of it smoothed away. A small crease remained between her brows.

  He checked himself, coming to a halt on seeing the fear she tried to hide. He forced a rueful smile. “I’m not doing a very good job of seducing you.”

  “I…sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  “No! No, of course not.”

  “Come, let us go and eat.” He took care to move slowly, so as not to alarm her, and offered her his arm. He escorted her to her bed, a smile tugging at his lips because he was naked and she wore a thin chemise. “I’m sure we appear very dignified.”

  She dimpled, and he relaxed a fraction.

  He seated her on the edge of the bed and stepped away, casting a rueful glance at his erection. Likely, she had no doubts regarding the direction of his thoughts. He picked up a plate bearing a large slice of meat pie. “This will do nicely.”

  Leo took the plate back to the bed and fed her morsels of food. Under his attentions, she unwound. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

  “Mother scared Cassie half to death,” Jocelyn said. “I need to find someone to look after Cassie. The baker’s daughter was recommended to me, but her mother flatly refused to allow her to work at the manor.”

  “Because of me?”

  She avoided his gaze, the action answer enough.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You said you didn’t murder those women, and I believe you.”

  “Thank you.” Leo set the plate aside. “I’m going to kiss you now. I’m telling you so I don’t frighten you again.”

  “Why don’t I kiss you? That way you can be sure it’s what I want.”

  Leo couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of her freckled nose. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

  The brush of her lips against his was almost innocent, yet it propelled hunger through him. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and he gently pushed her down on the mattress. This time he kissed her, taking tiny bites from her mouth, her neck and the creamy curves of her upper breasts. Moving down her body, he kissed the fragrant skin of one inner thigh, tracing his tongue over a small cluster of freckles. “What is that scent?” He breathed deeply, catching the note of lavender and something else. Citrus, maybe?

  “Lavender, orange and a hint of cloves.”

  “I like it, especially on you.” His lips moved closer to her feminine flesh. Her hips jerked. He smiled against her skin, breathing in her scent. Already her folds glistened, beckoning him to taste. As always he was torn between haste and a leisurely loving. This time speed won out. He buried his tongue in her hot center, feathered his thumb over her nub, delicately teasing while he consumed her. Each moan and twitch he drew from her pushed him harder. He coaxed out another groan and licked her swollen flesh.

  “Leo,” she whispered, her hands tugging his wet hair in a silent urge to make her come. “Please.”

  Carefully, he closed his mouth around her and sucked. She let out a low moan, her body arching upward and into him. He felt the tiny pulses against his tongue, and before she’d fully relaxed into the mattress, Leo moved and guided his cock into her. He pushed deep and savored her flesh caressing his length. Damn, he liked this part of their marriage. He plunged into her time and again while she held him, murmuring encouragement. A shudder passed through her, and her silken sheath tightened around him. Pleasure grew to a hot, almost painful ache. He kissed her roughly and powered into her with a decisive shove. His muscles locked and he spilled his seed, groaning at the soft, yielding whispers against his ear. For a time, he lost himself in the sensual haze, floating on a cloud of satisfaction.

  Finally, he shifted his weight, separating their bodies. He grinned at her. “That was much better than sleeping in my cell.”

  “How long is Captain Cartwright intending to keep you locked up?”

  “Not for much longer, I hope.”

  “I see.” She sat up. “Would you like something else to eat?”

  “You don’t usually eat in your room.” Frowning, he pondered her reply as he stood to grab some bread and meat. What did she see? He had a feeling it wasn’t his innocence.

  “It’s a special occasion.”

  Something in her voice grabbed his attention, warmed him through. “Why?”

  “It’s not every day a woman learns she’s going to have a child.”

  Leo stared, her words not registering at first. He replayed them in his head. “What did you say?”

  “I’m expecting our child.” She grinned at him, clearly delighted. “Are you pleased?”

  Joy burst through his chest, broadened his smile. “God, yes!” Leo crossed to her side with three giant steps. He plucked her off the bed to hug her tight. “Are you happy?”

  “Oh, yes. I couldn’t be happier. I never thought…I’m very happy, Leo.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leo couldn’t stop smiling the next morning. Not even another day spent with the blacksmith who’d gone on another drunken binge when he’d learned his wife had run off with a travelling salesman could dim his mood. A child. Now if only he and Cartwright could catch the murderer.

  “Leo!”

  He turned at the hail, his good humor faltering when he saw Hannah enter, Cartwright locking the door after her.

  She gave a delicate sniff, her nostrils flaring. He didn’t blame her—the drunken blacksmith smelled of vomit and stale alcohol. The stench clawed the back of his throat every time he returned to the cell.

  “How are you?” She set down the basket she carried and looked both left and right. Neither of the battered chairs appeared to pass her scrutiny. Her nose wrinkled and she remained standing.

  The blacksmith plunged into another chorus of his song about a limber barmaid named Nelly.

  Hannah scowled. “How can you stand this?”

  “I have no choice. It’s good of you to visit.”

  “I notice your wife doesn’t.”

  Leo didn’t bother to reply. In truth he was glad Jocelyn kept her distance. He didn’t want his wife to see him here.

  “You’re up early.” He didn’t want to deal with Hannah this morning. Her flirtations were uncomfortable, and she was much like her sister, thinking only of herself, which made her regular visits out of character.

  She shrugged. “We have visitors down from London. With their drunken revels I can scarcely hear myself think. I needed a ride to clear my head.”

  “Ah, something to distract me. Tell me about your visitors. Anything to take my mind from my present situation.” Leo spoke loudly so Hannah could hear him above the blacksmith. The man halted his singing mid-verse, his head dipping toward his homespun linen shirt. His eyes closed and he snorted, a string of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Leo’s voice rang out above the partial snores. “It’s better when he’s asleep.”

  “Disgusting! It’s no wonder that man’s wife ran off.”

  “Is it certain she left with a man?”

  “Vicar Allenby saw her leave on a cart packed with possessions. The gossips say the vicar tried to talk her out of leaving. Think positively, Leo. At least no one can blame you should they find her body on the moor.”

  Leo snorted, aiming a careful smile in her direction. “Divert me.”

  Hannah dimpled at him. “I could do this task much better if we were alone in a more romantic place.”

  “I’m married,” Leo snapped, cursing inwardly when she grimaced. Damn, farming sheep was easier than questioning people about possible crimes.

  Hannah rallied. “Pooh, she’s a poor wife to you. I hear she’s going mad like her mother.”

  Anger gripped Leo. His fists tightened at his sides, but he ruthlessly suppressed his natural inclination to snap at her again. “Who told you that?”

  “I heard she’s seeing faces in windows and wandering from
the house in the middle of the night. Everyone knows it’s dangerous to navigate the moor. Only an imbecile would attempt Dartmoor at night.”

  “I’m sure these are merely rumors.” Leo wanted to say more. Jocelyn was no more mad than he was a murderer.

  She shrugged. “Rumors always bear an element of truth.”

  The smug laughter in her eyes poked his temper. He fought it, not wanting to upset Hannah when he needed her to speak of their visitors. “That is true. Come, I don’t wish to discuss my wife.” He thought of the way Jocelyn had curled in his arms the previous night. She didn’t exhibit any of her mother’s symptoms, and he refused to listen to Hannah’s viperous tongue.

  “Several of the usual crowd have come down from London. Peregrine’s friends mostly.” A malicious gleam sparkled in her eyes, and Leo tensed as he wondered the cause. “A few people I hadn’t met before. Peregrine is taking them grouse shooting later today. Sir James is coming for dinner tonight and bringing his house guests with him. I believe we shall be quite a party. I’m sorry you can’t come.” She glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer. “We could always arrange to break you out of jail.”

  The blacksmith snored on, undisturbed by their conversation.

  “If I escape it will look as if I’m guilty.”

  “My sister was no angel. I could understand someone murdering her,” Hannah said lightly.

  “Be that as it may, I didn’t kill your sister.”

  Hannah waved a gloved hand in dismissal. “Of course you didn’t, Leo. Peregrine and I still talk to you. My parents don’t speak badly of you. We know Ursula was difficult.”

  An understatement in Leo’s opinion. “You and your family are in the minority.”

  Despite Hannah’s many annoying qualities, she’d never snubbed him, even though the death of her sister must have come as a shock.

  Cartwright entered the jail, his keys rattling with each step. He unlocked the door and nudged the blacksmith in the ribs with his mud-splattered boot. “Oy, time for you to go home.”

  “I don’t suppose I could leave too?” Leo asked.

  Cartwright chuckled. “You could try.”

  “I’d better get back to our guests,” Hannah said. “I asked Cook to pack some treats for you.”

  “I’ll search the contents first,” Cartwright said in a stiff voice, playing the part of jailer to the hilt. He guided the blacksmith to the unlocked door. “You first, Miss Richards.”

  Leo listened to the murmur of voices, the loud protests of the blacksmith and the jangle of a horse’s harness. A cart rolled away with a squeak of wheels. Seconds later the gallop of hooves indicated Hannah’s usual reckless departure.

  Cartwright returned five minutes later.

  “Did you learn anything?”

  Cartwright shook his grizzled head. “Nothing of import. They do have visitors, but I couldn’t get close enough to identify any of them.”

  “Hannah said they’re friends from London. They’re going grouse shooting later this afternoon, so you might get luckier if you follow them. Sir James is going to the castle with his guests this evening.”

  A bark of rusty laughter emerged from Cartwright. “You’ve learned more than me, despite being locked up.”

  “Do you think they’ll visit the abbey tonight?”

  “We saw two men there last night, after seeing no one for weeks.”

  Leo nodded. “Will we watch again tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure the blacksmith’s wife left the town of her own free will?”

  “Aye, as sure as I can be.”

  Leo paced to the small, barred window and stood on tiptoe to peer outside. “I find it hard to believe Jaego is part of this. I don’t like the man, but he’s not capable of murder.”

  “People change. Some are masters at concealment. In this job I see the worst of people. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

  The week passed in a pleasant fashion. Jocelyn enjoyed Leo’s attentions, although he appeared distracted at times. Understandable since the next quarter session would take place soon. A tremor darted down her spine. What would she do if Leo was charged with murder? While there was no proof, everyone believed he’d committed the crime. Even she wasn’t sure some days and wondered if she lacked judgment.

  While Leo hadn’t told her he loved her, it was obvious he enjoyed her company. He was clearly pleased about the babe. Her hand crept down to cradle the swell of her abdomen. The mornings of sickness were worth it. Soon she would have a child of her own—another child. Cassie was currently in the kitchen with Cook, learning the intricacies of making gingerbread. For some reason Hannah and Peregrine hadn’t visited this week, and Cassie’s behavior was much improved.

  Jocelyn wandered past the rose gardens, enjoying the sunshine after an unexpected day of rain. The sweet perfume of the roses fought with the musty scent rising from the branches the gardeners had collected in preparation for a bonfire.

  On a whim, she turned toward the maze. After swearing her to secrecy, Leo had told her the trick of the maze, and now she was eager to try it out.

  The jumble of twists and turns and dead ends was easy to navigate if one knew the secret pattern. She stepped forward with confidence, passing through the opening. She strolled along, counting the turns. When she paused, all she could see were the towering hedges. Toward the middle of the maze, she could hear the clip-clip of shears and the low murmur of the under-gardeners trimming the hedges into submission in preparation for the festival.

  Jocelyn continued until she’d almost reached the center. Not wishing to disturb the gardeners at work, she retraced her steps and exited the maze without difficulty.

  The gardens looked beautiful, a real credit to the gardeners. Everything would be perfect in time for the festivities in two weeks. Mrs. Allenby was starting to fuss and panic, but Jocelyn was pleased with their plans. The games for the children were organized, the games to entertain the adults were almost finalized, and the menu for the Harvest feast was complete. Jocelyn thought they’d planned for every contingency. As long as the weather cooperated, everyone should enjoy the event. Mrs. Allenby had little reason to worry.

  A ladybird landed on her hand, and Jocelyn watched the spotted insect before gently relocating it onto a leafy plant. She wandered past a lavender bush, running her hand over the flowers to release their pungent scent. Slowly, she made her way back to the house.

  “Jocelyn, there you are. I’ve been searching for you everywhere.” Hannah aimed her displeasure at Jocelyn, the whip she was holding tap-tap-tapping against her black skirts.

  “Hannah, you should have called for me. I told the servants I intended to walk in the garden. Did you want to visit with Cassie? She’s in the kitchen with Cook. If you want to take her riding, you’ll have to tear her away. Gingerbread is her favorite.”

  “No, I don’t wish to see Cassie. She’s an ungrateful brat.”

  Jocelyn blinked at Hannah’s sharp tone. She knew Cassie was sulky at times, but her behavior had improved recently, and she’d finally seemed to accept Jocelyn’s presence. “If Cassie is acting badly please let me know.”

  “All she wants to do is play with her dolls and dress and redress them countless times,” Hannah muttered.

  Jocelyn laughed. “No doubt she’ll be back to ponies next week.”

  “I don’t know if I want to look after her.”

  “Do you mean you don’t wish to visit her any longer?”

  Hannah lifted her shoulder in an irritable shrug. “I mean that Peregrine and I don’t know if we want her living with us when you have your baby. She’s disruptive.”

  Jocelyn stared at Hannah in shock. How did she know about the baby? “Why would you—nothing will change. Cassie is our daughter. Of course she’ll live with us.” As if they’d ever consider letting Hannah have sole charge of Cassie.

  “But you are having a baby?”

  “Yes, but…how did you know?”

  “Servan
ts talk. There are rumors going around the village.”

  Alarm surfaced in Jocelyn. Surely they didn’t know about Leo’s frequent absences from jail. He took such care to return before anyone noted his absence. “What rumors?” Jocelyn asked faintly.

  “Why, it’s very obvious to anyone who can count that this baby is not Leo’s. You’re having an affair with someone.”

  “That’s not true!” A sick feeling forced its way up her throat. St. Bridget’s nose. She couldn’t deny the rumors without placing Leo in danger. She swallowed, frantically searching for a way out of the moor-like bog that was her life.

  “Say what you like. It’s difficult to ignore the truth when it stares one in the face. How are the plans for the festival?” Hannah changed the subject abruptly.

  “Ah, very well, thank you.” The shift left her feeling like a passenger on a runaway carriage. Jocelyn groped to order her thoughts. “Um, the vicar and his wife seem happy.”

  “Interfering old busybody,” Hannah muttered, plucking haphazardly at lavender heads and tossing them on the ground. “She spoils anything remotely connected with fun. I wanted to invite a friend.”

  According to the vicar, the troublemakers were the strangers who’d attended the last festival, but there was no reason why Hannah and Peregrine couldn’t invite a couple of friends. “Is there someone special you’d like to invite?”

  Jocelyn walked farther down the path, intending to head back to the house. At the rate Hannah was going the plants would end up bare, stripped of flowers and foliage.

  The crunch of rapid footsteps on the gravel path told Jocelyn that Hannah was following. When they reached the end of the path, Jocelyn slowed for Hannah to catch up.

  “There is someone I would like to invite,” Hannah said. “Someone special.”

  “That’s fine,” Jocelyn said. “You’re welcome to bring him with you. Is there someone Peregrine would like to escort to the fair?”

  Hannah smiled suddenly, lighting up her entire face. She looked so angelic that Jocelyn blinked under her radiance. “Yes, I believe there is.”

  “That’s settled then,” Jocelyn said. “I’ll add two more people to my list.”