He began circling and searching with his tongue now. Merrie's eyes flew open wide. She began feeling things her body had never before felt; first, a stirring of unfamiliar yearning, growing ever stronger as he began using his tongue more insistently, gently bringing her legs further apart. She arched her back and began to moan softly.
It was when he put one finger inside her, that she opened her eyes wide and came apart, her small body convulsing and her back arching. She gasped, suddenly, as she met his eyes.
She lay in his arms, her breathing still ragged, for a long time.
"Sir?" she whispered, an eternity later.
"Yes, my innocent?"
"What…was that?"
He chuckled softly. "Did you like it?"
"Was…I supposed to…sir?"
"Oh yes, my little innocent. Would you like to do it again?"
She gulped. "Yes?"
He began again. The slow nipping, the kissing, the caressing, the circling... But when he put two fingers inside, her response was even more convulsive.
Francis grinned, as he began once again to work his way down her adorable little body. But when he reached her folds once more, she had already begun to writhe.
"Merrie? Innocence? What is it that you want?"
Her eyes flew open, in agitation. "You, sir! I want you…inside me!"
"And how do you ask, my adorable little girl?"
"Please? Sir?"
"Please, what, Merriweather Lynne? I want you to ask. Nicely."
"Please! Francis! Please—be inside me—now? Sir?"
"Hold still, little love. I shall."
For the first time, she looked down, realizing he was naked; then, bringing her eyes up to meet his, she gasped as he paused, just inside her folds, as she tried to reach for him with her body. "Merrie? This will hurt, little sweetheart. Are you ready?"
"Yes!" She was nearly crying now with want.
Francis held her fast and plunged inside her. She cried out. But at the same time, she came immediately.
"Now, Merrie Lynne, I am going to move inside you..."
"Please." Her need was building once again; he could feel it.
Slowly, he began thrusting, but his own need was building, as well, and it was overpowering his determination to go slow. A moment later, he lost control and thrust with all his might.
Merrie had wound her arms around his neck, tightly, and had cried out his name as they had come, together. Now, as he raised his head and looked down into her eyes, he frowned.
"Merrie? You are crying, my darling. Are you all right? Have I hurt you?"
She shook her head and looked up. The tears were flowing, but she had a smile on her face. "I never..." she whispered. "Francis, I never thought…it would be so…"
He kissed her forehead and then moved to her mouth. "So what, my darling girl?"
"So…beautiful," she said, just before falling asleep in his arms.
When she awakened, Merrie found herself staring across the room Never… she thought, as she remembered the way he had drawn out her submission, had she ever imagined…it could be like this..
"You are blushing, Merriweather. What are you thinking, my little innocent?" Francis' voice whispered, in her ear.
She looked up. "How long have you been watching me?" She giggled.
"Long enough, brat. Oh no—come back here, little girl." He put an arm around her and pulled her back down onto the pillows.
"But—is not there something that needs to be done today?"
He leaned up on one elbow, and his brows rose. "Such as?"
Merrie met his gaze. "We cannot sit around all day and do nothing, sir."
He grinned. "I see. So you wish to go to check on the schools with me?"
"If that is what you do. Yes."
He looked down at her, frowning.
"Francis." She kissed the tip of her finger and drew a line down his chiseled jaw with it. "Lottie is gone; I cannot take off and go to town, because you will not let me. What shall I do, if you will not let me help you?"
Francis leaned down, kissing her forehead, her dimples, her nose, eyes, and, finally, her mouth. "This, my innocent. This."
She giggled as he began working his way down the side of her neck and then lower, feeling need building once again.
AN HOUR LATER, she lay exhausted in his arms and turned over on her side to face him.
"There will be a bath prepared for us within an hour, Merrie, my girl," he said softly. "But right now, you are to rest. If you indeed are determined to help me, you must first sleep. I kept you awake entirely too much, last night."
She giggled again, and he raised a brow at her. "And what, pray tell, are you giggling about?"
"All the times you awakened me last night. Shame on you, sir." Her eyes were twinkling.
He looked down with mock severity. "Shame? On me?"
She giggled once again and squealed when he popped her bottom soundly.
"Francis! Ow!"
"We shall see who scolds who, little girl." He grinned.
"Oh. Shall we?" she challenged.
"Yes. Sleep, brat." He turned her to face him and she wrapped her arms around his neck, thinking, as she closed her eyes, that she had never been so happy.
A knock three times on the door made Francis open his eyes. He glanced at the clock.
Seven-thirty.
"Wake up, little love. Three taps on the door means the bath is ready. I thought you might benefit from a good soak. I shall bathe you."
Merrie's eyes popped open.
"Sir?"
"You heard me, brat. Up you go." He tried to toss the sheet and coverlet off, but she caught it. Gasping, she pulled it back to her, holding on. A brow rose. "Merrie? You will have a difficult time letting me bathe you with a sheet wrapped around you."
"But.." She licked her lips, and he traced her lower lip with a finger. When she smiled up at him, he grabbed the sheet from her and threw it back to the foot of the bed.
"Francis!" She was squealing. Laughing, he threw her up over his shoulder, naked, and carried her into the bath that adjoined the bedroom. It was quite masculine, she thought, held upside down.
"This is beautiful," she said softly. "I love it!"
"Hmm. Not a word about the bedroom. Not a word about my lovemaking. But she loves the bath. Why am I not surprised?"
With a firm smack to her bottom, he set her down into the tub of hot water. Her hands immediately moved to cover her breasts, and he took hold of her wrists, moving her hands to her side and shaking his head.
"Oh no. No covering allowed, my lovely little brat. I demand to look at you."
"But—Francis?" She looked up. He stopped, kissing her forehead, and waited.
"I am waiting, brat."
"Your lovemaking was nice, sir."
"Just nice?"
"Well…very nice."
"Hmm."
She closed her eyes, as he sponged down circles on her body.
"It was wonderful…sir."
"I see. I am going to have to improve my skills then."
She scowled. "Francis!"
"Temper, temper," his voice warned. "Now. Stand."
Her eyes flew to his, uncertainly. He took hold of her, raising her to her feet and then began to do the same, bringing her hair around to the front, sponging gentle circles from her neck downward. "Now. Sit."
Her eyes widened, but she obeyed, Francis moved her forward and sat down behind her in the tub, pulling her back against his chest. Expecting her to jolt away, he grinned when she leaned back against him and looked backward, over her shoulder, into his eyes.
"This is nice," she whispered.
"Ahem."
She grinned. "Very nice?"
"Merriweather Lynne?"
"All right. It is—oh!" Her eyes widened as his hands worked their way around her and moved downward. "Oh… sir!"
"And how is that?" he said in her ear, as his hands began to find her sensitive spots and she began to
writhe. Her breathing became ragged, her back arched.
"Oh! Oh—Francis!" She gasped as two fingers entered her, and her body began to convulse around them. She cried out. A moment later, she collapsed back against him.
"And, my little innocent. How is that for a start to your day?"
She breathed hard, for a moment, and then finally whispered, softly, "That, sir…" She closed her eyes. "Was magnificent!"
CHAPTER 5
T he water had begun to cool when Francis leaned forward and awakened her.
"Up, little innocent. They will have to hold breakfast for us if we do not hurry. Behind her, he rose and tugged her to her feet, wrapping her in a large towel.
Shyly, she smiled, turning. "Francis? Where—shall I find my clothes?"
"Liliana has probably hung them in your wardrobe, little missy. In your room."
"Oh?" She looked slightly disappointed.
"Oh no. You shall not be sleeping in there. I shall never have you sleeping away from me. But your rooms are necessary. Your study is in there. And a reading room and a sewing room. And a room for your maid. The bedroom is where Liliana will help you dress."
"Oh."
He scrubbed her skin down with the dry towel and tried to take it from her, but she grasped it tightly.
"All right. You may keep it. But you will have to become accustomed to your maid seeing you naked." He leaned down, kissing her bare shoulder. "And to me, as well. I quite enjoy seeing you naked, and I shall have my fill of you. Do not doubt that. You may go."
Merrie stood, uncertain which direction to go, and he grinned, lifting her off her feet.
"My apologies, my little darling. I have forgotten you are unfamiliar with the house." He took her back through the bedroom and across it to another door, opening it and stepping inside. "These are your rooms, innocent. Liliana?"
"Yes, sir." Liliana appeared at once, curtsying.
"Here is my bride. Can you make her look even more beautiful than she already is?"
She smiled, and Francis set Merrie down on the bench facing her vanity. She looked around the room, still holding her towel, as he kissed the top of her head and left. "Good morning, Liliana." Merrie grinned. "I need help. I have no idea what I should be wearing."
"Do you wish me to make a suggestion, milady?"
"Please? And I do not know if any of my things will be appropriate. My gowns were left at home, and it burned while I was away at school. I think we are visiting schools today."
"I heard about the fire, milady. I am sorry." But already she had two gowns pulled out. "Either of these would work today."
"This one?" Merrie chose a dark royal blue with matching cloak. "And please? Could you tell me about the schools?"
"What I know, yes, milady. There are three of them. Lord Wellington and Sir Francis share the responsibility for many things at Strasburg. Each of them take care of their tenants, but Lord Wellington oversees the clinic, and Sir Francis oversees the schools; Most of parents of the children who go there are tenants on their estate properties. But some are children of Strasburg's citizens, too. Sir Francis is working on another school just for the town."
Merrie stared at her. "I never knew that, Liliana. Francis has never told me that. Oh my."
MERRIE TURNED TOWARD HIM, in the coach. "And why did I not know that you are the overseer of the schools in the area?"
He frowned down at her. "That sounds like an accusation."
"No! No, sir. It is not meant to be. I just never knew it. I am amazed, sir. That is such a noble thing to do."
He shrugged. "My father did it before me. He and Geoffrey's father were very close friends. He needed help, and we do not have as many families as Geoffrey does. So it seemed the natural thing to do. There is nothing noble about it."
"What exactly shall we be doing today, then?"
"The baskets Miss Constance brought in as we left have lunches in them, for children who arrived at school without them. And treats for all the children. I only see each school once a week, that means three visits a week. If the parents need help, I see what I can do."
"Francis, that is so sweet."
He looked outside, as the carriage began to slow. "No. Just needed. We are close, little innocent. Be quiet."
He took her hand, leading her to the top of the steps at the one room schoolhouse, and waited a moment. Merrie looked up at her husband, waiting.
Francis opened the door, nodding toward the teacher, who smiled and nodded in return, and then gave a slight bow to Merrie, grinning. Her dimples were showing. He continued teaching for a few moments and then, finally, stood up and put his hands together.
"Line up at the door by row, children. You may go outside. But stay together, and if you see the boar, come back inside. Francis walked to the doorway, giving Merrie a wink.
Some of the children had small towels, with their lunches wrapped inside. Some did not. For the ones without anything, Francis reached into the basket he held and pulled out a small wrapped towel, handing it to them. There were only three who did not have anything with them, and they looked up, surprised and grateful. They murmured a quiet, "Thank you," and filed outside.
As they finished and the last student was gone, Merrie turned and ran over to their teacher, throwing her arms around him.
"Oh, Mr. Styles! It is so good to see you!"
He laughed and nodded toward Francis. "Merrie was my student, before going off to school, Francis, do you remember that? And a handful." He chuckled at her rueful expression. "And, Merriweather—or should I say, Mrs. Adams, how are you?"
"Wonderful, sir! How is the school going?"
"Wonderful as well." He turned to Francis. "I am glad you brought lunches today. My wife has been sending extras for the children who are without, but three new students came in today from Strasburg. We were not prepared for them."
Francis nodded. "I shall send extra provisions for your expenses on those, sir. What is this about a boar?"
"A black boar. He seems to know when the children eat and has been chasing them to get their lunches. It started when one of the children felt sorry for him and fed him. Little ungrateful wretch grew to expect it. Now he demands it."
"I shall send Elias over to take care of him when the children are not here." He turned toward Merrie. "Would you like to pass out the treats Miss Constance sent, my little innocent?"
"Yes!" Merrie grinned, dimples showing. She took the basket and went toward the front door. But as she opened it, children came flying in from the outside.
"The boar!" one of the little girls screamed, as she ran toward her desk and climbed up into the seat, lifting her skirts as if it were coming after her. Pandemonium reigned in the classroom as Mr. Styles attempted to calm them.
But Francis began looking immediately for Merrie, alarmed when he did not see her. He ran outside, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Merrie! Merriweather!"
For a moment, he did not see her. A cacophony of sound met his ears as he began sprinting toward it. It was not a scream for help. It was fury. "Merriweather?"
His beautiful bride was up in an apple tree, throwing rotten apples down at the black boar, who was screaming at her whenever one made contact. She was throwing available ones with regularity, screaming back.
"Go! Go away! How dare you scare our children! Get! Now!"
Francis began chasing the boar, which began to run now. But he was laughing so hard that it was difficult to sound menacing. A moment later, the animal's short legs had taken it several hundred feet from the school. With one last look, it trotted off into the woods.
Merrie was glaring at her husband, now. "And just what are you laughing at, Francis Adams?"
He reached upward, trying to control his mirth. "Come down, my little hellion. You have entertained the children enough for one day."
Merrie turned, trying to back down the tree, and Francis reached up, grasping her by the waist when she was low enough and throwing her over his shoulder.<
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"Francis! What do you mean, entertained—Oh!" But as she looked up, she gasped.
Inside the window, the children were clapping, laughing and pointing at her. Even the little girl on top of her desk had come down to watch. Mr. Styles stood behind them, arms crossed, grinning.
Francis set her down on her feet outside the front door, opening it for her. Suddenly, she looked up, horrified.
"Wait, sir—the treats! I left them in the apple tree!" She took off running before he could grab her, and he caught up with her at the base of the tree, trying to jump high enough so she could reach the basket to get it down. Francis picked her up, moved her out of the way and then moved in and simply reached up, plucking it from the limb that held it.
The children were delighted and began to clap once again.
But as Merrie entered the class again, she looked toward Mr. Styles, mouthing an apology. Even he was grinning. Francis watched as he moved forward, leaning over to ask her a question. She looked puzzled for a moment, and then nodded, smiling.
"All right, class. Take your seats. Mrs. Adams is going to pass out the treats that Miss Constance sent you. And then, if you are quiet—and only then, I shall tell you a Merrie story, before we begin class for the afternoon."
The children began to make their way back to their seats as Francis watched, amazed. But just as Merrie finished, Mr. Styles leaned toward him, grinning. "I think you have christened her the wrong epithet, Sir Francis. Innocent is hardly what I would have called her."
FRANCIS GLANCED down at Merrie that afternoon, sitting at the window and leaning on a small hand.
"And what are you thinking about, my little miscreant?"
"Miscreant?"
He grinned. "You would prefer I called you a hellion, as I did earlier today?"
"No." She scowled. She shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking of two things. My letter from Lottie—"
"Ah. And what did Miss Lottie have to say?"
"Mrs. Lottie misses us, and they are planning to come during the holidays at Christmas. She seems very happy. I was hoping to invite them to dinner while they are home."
"Done. But you said two things, little brat. What was the other?"
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