“How long were you in France for, Mervin?” Dolores asked, as they reached the outer gates that led to the stretch of grassy land, which itself led onward to a copse of trees and then the ruined wall. “You don’t seem old. You could not have been there long.”
“It felt longer than it was,” Mervin said. “Two and a half years. Napoleon really put us through our paces. It’s strange – you’ll think I’m mad, I bet – but when I was over there I found myself thinking of you quite a lot.”
“Of me?” Dolores said in disbelief.
“Yes,” Mervin said, smiling sheepishly. He shrugged. “I remembered your face remarkably well from your sister’s wedding. The smooth, soft skin.The sky-blue eyes.The spark of intellect and life behind them.It brought me comfort, to think you your countenance, when I was near death, when there was death around me. You were a reminder of what life could be.”
Spoken by another man, this could have been sentimental and mawkish, but Mervin said it matter-of-factly, like a man discussing the weather. There was no pleading in his voice at all, not exaggerated or poetic dramatism. There were just the words, spoken in his smooth voice, said rather shyly, and with downcast eyes. Dolores found herself trusting him more by the moment. He risked a look at her, saw that she was looking at him, and then looked away.
“I have embarrassed you,” she said.
They were walking across the grasslands now toward the copse of trees in which squirrels and birds would sometimes hide. Dolores had no idea why they came all the way up here. As far as she could tell, there was nothing up here but isolation. Mervin didn’t reply immediately. Finally, he bowed his head. “I have embarrassed myself,” he said.
“I cannot believe that you are here to ruin me,” Dolores said.
“I am not.”
“Hmm, but you were. And you still might be. This could all be a ploy.”
“It is not,” Mervin said. “I wrote to God.”
“Many men have sworn to God,” Dolores said. “More serious oaths have been taken for less serious matters.”
“I am not a liar.”
“That is exactly what a liar would like me to believe.”
Mervin laughed aloud.
“Do I amuse you?” she said.
They stopped when they reached the trees. He turned and faced her. A playful smile lifted his lips. Dolores found herself wonder what it would feel like to brush her thumb along one of those lips. She pushed the thought away, buried it.
Mervin held his hands up, as though in defense. “I was just thinking,” he said, “how I have endured countless horrors at the hands of the French in the war. Fire, gunpowder, steel.Hoof, even. But never have I truly known what it is to be assailed by an opponent until now. You, Dolores, are a fierce lady. We should have sent you to France; Napoleon would have bowed immediately.”
“Do you mock me?” Dolores said.
Mervin shook his head swiftly. “No,” he said. “I do not wish to mock. I was trying to be funny. Am I to assume that I failed?”
Dolores smiled, couldn’t help but smile. “Let us say that that has not been decided yet,” she said.
“As you say,” Mervin said. “Dolores, may I take your hand?”
What? No! How dare he ask a question such as that! Push him away! Cast him out!
“If it would please you,” she replied, offering her gloved hand.
*****
Impure thoughts assailed Dolores’ mind. She knew that it was a mess and that she was getting herself into something dreadful, but she couldn’t help it. She remembered her hand in Mervin’s, and felt a warm glow in her belly. It was the first moment of kindness she’d experienced in years, and it had affected her profoundly. She lay awake at night, reliving the moment, remembering how it had felt to be escorted by him through the grounds. It was almost as though she was allowed to be young, and a handsome young suitor was courting her. Almost, but her parents had married her to a pig of a man. And Mervin was his nephew. And might well be plotting to take her home from her.
Despite this, she found herself wanting to be with him more and more. She would wait for him before she broke her fast, and intentionally leave the drawing-room door open when she was reading, so that he might see her in there and join her. She wouldn’t think about this. She would just do it. It came from somewhere deep inside of her, somewhere she hadn’t heard anything from for years. It came from the hopeful, fun-loving part of her. The part of her she’d thought Thornton had killed.
Three days after the walk, she and Mervin were sitting in the drawing-room. They were a strange match, the nephew of her husband, and a widow, in mourning attire. Legally, Mervin was her nephew-in-law, but he was older than her and she knew that neither of them felt that way. She was just a lord and she was just a lady. That was all. He was telling her about a day in France when he had awoken to a charging attack, and had had to scrabble through dirt and bury himself in leaves to stop from being murdered. Dolores listened eagerly. She was fascinated that this man before her had so recently experienced horrors like that, and yet he was able to sit perfectly normally and discuss it. She would never discuss her time with Thornton. It was too horrid.
“Shall we go outside?” Mervin said. “We could take another walk, take some air.”
Midday sun slanted through the windows, beckoning them.
“Okay,” Dolores said simply, and then rose to her feet.
She and Mervin walked toward the edge of the hill, where they could look down upon Wells. “I wish to apologize, Dolores,” Mervin said. “I was a brute to you when I first arrived here. I keep remembering how offhand I was with you – not even granting you your proper title – and it makes me ashamed. I do not know how I could be like that with you. It was horrible of me.”
“And yet this could all be a ploy,” Dolores said. She said it half-playfully, as she had been wont to of late. Mervin was dissembling the walls she’d built around herself, the walls that had been necessary when Thornton was alive. “You could have planned the entire thing, from your rudeness to your apology.”
“I did not,” Mervin said.
They stopped at the edge of the hill and looked down. The sun lit the landscape so that it appeared on the verge of catching fire. Mervin moved closed to her and touched her arm. She allowed him. She did not pull away. Though she knew it was wrong. It was all wrong. And yet it all felt right. He moved his hand down from her elbow to her hand and then interlocked his fingers with hers.
“Do you mind?” he said.
Her breath was coming fast. Mervin was different to Thornton in every way. He was young and strong and handsome and kind. But Dolores could not shake the idea that it may be a trick. If it was, it was the most beautiful and the cruelest trick that had ever been played.
“No,” she said, sighing out a breath of pleasure and suspense. “Your hands feels nice in mine, Mervin.”
“Perhaps—” He cleared his throat. When she looked at him, she saw that his cheeks were glowing red. “Perhaps we could remove our gloves?”
A thrill ran through Dolores. She watched him for a moment. He bit his lip, without realizing it, Dolores thought. He held her gaze, his earth-brown eyes unsure. But void of any malice, any hatred, void of his Uncle’s spirit.Dolores pulled her hand away. Mervin’s dropped, but then lit up again when he saw that she was taking off her glove. Hastily, he took off his glove, too.
They held their bare hands inches from each other. Dolores felt like a little girl again, doing something naughty. She reached out, and Mervin reached out. And their bare hands touched. Mervin’s eyes went wide when he felt her flesh. Dolores interlocked her fingers with his, and squeezed his hand. He squeezed her hand in return, and they stood like that for a long time, staring at each other in disbelief and mutual pleasure.
Then they turned to the hillside, and regarded Wells: the homes, the church’s spire, the fields. “I have not stopped to appreciate the beauty of this place for a long time,” Dolores said. “When Thornton was
alive, it was difficult to appreciate beauty. Now he is gone, I . . .” She stopped herself. “But I shouldn’t speak of such things.”
“I am not your enemy, sweet Dolores,” Mervin said.
Sweet Dolores.Her palms pricked with sweat. Something totally disconnected from high society and hits etiquette rose within her. Something animalistic, atavistic.Something from her as a woman and not a lady.She forced it down. A lady did not listen to urges like that.
“I am beginning to believe you, Mervin,” she said. “But you must know that I cannot know for sure. How can I? Short from seeing within your mind, I will not know.”
Mervin sighed. “I understand,” he said. “Your hand is so small.”
“And yours is so large.”
He turned and faced her, their hands still interlaced between them. She faced him, looking into his face, into the strength of his jaw, the softness of his eyes, the emotion underlying it all. He closed his eyes for a few moments, and then opened them again. “Impure thoughts attack me,” he said, his voice weak. “You would blush if I shared them.”
“Share them!” Dolores said, on impulse. She bit her lip. “I apologize. That was--”
But she didn’t finish her sentence. Mervin leaned in and laid his lips upon hers. He kissed her deeply, as she had never been kissed before. Not greedily or selfishly, not stealing the kiss, but inviting her into it, coaxing her. After a moment, she kissed him back, their bare hands touching. Their teeth clicked together, and their tongues touched. Nerves sprung up all over Dolores body, nerves she hadn’t known existed, all of them beaming pleasure through her. A hunger rose in her, and with her free hand she touched Mervin’s face. He moaned, and she moaned with him.
Then she broke it off, panting.
“I am sorry,” Mervin breathed, standing away from her. “I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I am—Oh, what a brute! What a fool!”
Dolores faced away from him, feelings roiling within her. She wanted him to kiss her again, and yet she knew it was wrong. She wanted to at least place her hand in his, but she knew it could lead to other things. She wanted to hold him, but it was improper. She wanted so many things, but none of them would do. They had crossed a line, a line that should never be crossed.
“Perhaps we should return to the house,” she said softly, still unable to look at him. Not because she was angry. But because if she looked at him again, her feelings might take control.She would lose herself to him, and they would cross the forbidden line once more.
“Yes,” Mervin said, “perhaps we should.”
They stood apart as they walked back toward the manor. Dolores held her head high, the picture of unimpeachable honor. Mervin walked with his shoulders wide, clearly furious with himself. She could tell that he thought he’d ruined things. She wanted to scream at him. That was the most pleasure I have ever had, sweet Mervin. That was everything to me. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper. She was not ready to utterly cast aside propriety. Not yet, anyway.
And there was the fear that he had kissed her as a ploy of some kind, to muddy his reputation, and steal the manor.
As though reading her thoughts, he whispered: “That was truth, Dolores. What just happened—I know it was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened. But it did. And it was true.”
Dolores nodded, saying nothing, and then walked ever faster. Soon, they were at the manor. They said nothing. Dolores almost ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She slammed the door shut behind her.
In a moment, she heard the slam of the guest bedroom door.
*****
One week passed like a play. Dolores and Mervin, when they ran into each other, pretended as though nothing had happened. It was like there were two versions of them. There were the outward versions, which were the picture of propriety and could not be accused of any dishonorable conduct, and then there were the true versions, which peered at each other through their hidden eyes, begging to be set free.
But Dolores would never make the first move in that direction. She had not cast her honor aside to do that. So she found herself waiting for him to do something. Just waiting for him to once again break the rules, to ignore etiquette, to resume their relationship.He had done enough now to ruin her. If he wanted to, he could leave and report what had happened, and begin a case against her. But he didn’t leave. He stayed.
She was in the drawing-room late one night. The summer sun had long since set, and she was gazing out of the window at the blackness. A solitary candle burnt upon the table. She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were consumed with Mervin, with the pleasure his lips had revealed, with his strong face, with his muscular body, with his stoic heart which had come through the war unscathed. With the man who was not at all like his evil uncle.
There was a slight rasping at the door. She turned, and there he was, stepping into the room. The façade has started to slip, she could see. His clothes were no at immaculate as they had been, and when he looked at her, he could not keep a smile off his face.
“If you keep smiling at me, my lord,” Dolores said, “I will not be able to stop myself from joining you.”
“That would please me, my lady,” Mervin said, stepping into the light. “May I sit?”
She nodded, and he sat close to her, so close that she could feel the heat from his body. The naughty part of her urge her to reach forward and touch his face, to feel his warm skin against her palm. She sat straighter, and smiled at Mervin as though she was just his uncle’s widow and he was just a troubled nephew.
“Is something the matter, my lord?” she said.
“You know there is,” Mervin muttered. “Dolores. Let’s not pretend we are not on first-name terms, now, sweet Dolores.”
Dolores nodded shortly. “Mervin.” It felt good to say his name aloud. “What troubles you?”
“Dreams,” he said. “Dreams of your lips. Dreams of your body pressed against mine. Dreams of the passion and heat between us.Every night for the past week, these dreams have disturbed my nights.And yet perhaps disturb is the wrong word, for I would not banish them for the world.”
Dolores let the words wash over her, into her, around her. The words enveloped her. Passion rose within her and when she looked at him she felt something strong and impossible to ignore in her chest. Something that was not quite love, not quite lust, but somewhere between the two. He was leaning forward. She leant forward so they were sitting very close.
“I, too, have had these dreams,” she said. “I have had them more times than I can count. They have taken home in my mind. I can hardly close my eyes without thinking of the kiss, of the heat. I know it is monstrously unladylike to say aloud, but I enjoyed our time together immensely. Truly, I did. It was wonderful. The heat, the passion . . .” She shook her head in disbelief. “I hardly knew these things existed before I met you. They are otherworldly and sensational, Mervin.”
He watched her with a serious expression upon his face. Then he leaned even further and brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead with his finger. His finger lingered on her skin, and then moved down her face, past her nose, to her lips. He rubbed her bottom lip, and then moved his head close. Dolores closed her eyes as they kissed, as the passion erupted between them. Every fiber of her being stirred. Lust moved through her. Her womanhood ached for the first time since she was a young, naïve girl. Her womanhood ached and she was not ashamed of it.
“Come with me?” Mervin said, as the kiss stopped. “Come with me, Dolores?”
“Where?” She could hardly speak; her breath was coming so fast.
“Upstairs,” Mervin said. “I don’t want to fight this anymore. I came here to ruin you. Yes, that is the truth. I monstrous truth. A truth I am ashamed of. But now that I know you, I could never ruin you. Not if a thousand Frenchman holding muskets stood at my back. I would rather die. I love you, Dolores. I hardly knew what the word meant until I came here.”
“You love me,” Dolores whispered, savoring the words.
“I feel like I’ve known you for far longer than these shorts weeks,” he went on. “I feel like I’ve known you for a very long time indeed. Perhaps it is because I often thought of you in France. Or perhaps it is because of your beauty, or your quiet strength. I hardly know how it has happened. But I happy about it. And I wouldn’t change it. It is immutable. My love for you will never waver. Even if you push me away now, and shun me for the rest of your life, I will keep on loving you.”
Dolores sighed with relief. “I love you, too,” she said, and knew it to be true.
Blast the etiquette. Blast the uncertainty. She loved him. She loved him for all he was, and all he wasn’t. She loved him imperfectly. If love existed, if it was anything, then it was this. It was how she felt about Mervin. She knew it in her bones.
“I will come with you,” she said.
Together, they rose to their feet, unmarried man and unmarried woman, about to commit a wonderful, euphoric sin.
*****
He laid her upon her back and leaned over her. His breath was hot upon her body as he undressed her, slowly removing each garment until she was stark naked. The room was warm, and yet her nipples were hard. He looked down at her naked body with wide eyes and then fell to his knees. Baring his lips, he suckled her nipple and rubbed her breasts, palming the flesh, squeezing it. Dolores moaned in pleasure, biting her lip to stop from screaming.
He kept suckling her nipple, and then moved his hand down her body to her womanhood. Pressing his finger upon her lips, he began to rub. There was a spot on her mound that produced a wonderful amount of pleasure. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, hanging in the pleasure, basking in it as though it was sunlight. He rubbed her harder, faster. She heard her moans as though from a long distance. A wave was building within her, a wave of pleasure. She had never felt pleasure like this. It seized her entire body. She saw red, nothing else. The red of pleasure.
And then it all released, his fingers prompting a thousand spasms in her muscles as she gyrated upon the bed. She wriggled here and there, catching the pleasure, stopping it, making it stay. Her womanhood was wetter than it had ever been now. When the massive pleasure has passed, she opened her eyes. They felt foggy, as they did after a long sleep. She was lightheaded and a rictus smile captured her lips.
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