“I beg your pardon?”
Her eyes grew to slits. “I thought you claimed to be an experienced rider?”
“And if I did?”
“Then how is it you came to fall from your horse?”
Merry’s jaw muscles worked. The nerve of this woman! “Not that it’s any of your concern, but my horse unexpectedly reared and threw me.”
“Right into His Grace’s arms?”
Stunned into speechlessness, Merry didn’t move a muscle as the governess hissed.
“You can forget what you’re thinking. The Duke of Penrose will never stoop so low as to marry a foreigner. And from America, no less,” she sneered. Pacing in front of the bed, she slapped a fist into her hand. “If he were to select a wife not a member of the haut ton, he would surely choose me. I’m English. My father was a member of the gentry.”
Recovering her voice, Merry said, “How exceedingly pleasant for you.”
“Don’t condescend to me. I see the way you look at His Grace, and he may be attracted to you. But be assured, a quick tumble in his bed is all he is interested in.”
Merry drew in a sharp breath at the woman’s crudeness. “From what I understand, His Grace is not in the market for a wife. In fact, if you are wishing to secure a husband, I advise you to look to his brother. Lord Brandon has been named the duke’s heir.”
“Nonsense. No duke would ignore his duty. And Lord Brandon is sorely wanting in so many ways.”
Merry thought of the young man with the sparkling wit and charming ways. The man who befriended her from the first. “Miss Jennings, you are unpleasant and rude. Please leave me.”
“I will. As soon as I finish.” She came to stand directly over Merry, her face in a vicious snarl. “You may have cajoled Her Grace into hiring you as a companion so you don’t have to leave, but you’ll never get your hands on her son. He is a duke, and you are a nobody.”
Quelling the unladylike desire to rip out the governess’s hair, she gave a tight smile. “Thank you for your kind words. Now please leave me in peace.”
Miss Jennings patted her hair, and tugged on the sleeves of her gown. Turning on her heel, she headed to the door. She gripped the door latch and viewed Merry over her shoulder. “Just remember what I said. I can assure you if anyone in this house is to be the next Duchess of Penrose, it will be me.”
Merry blew out the breath she held. Miss Jennings was more than welcome to the duke. His arrogance was something she would never put up with.
Then she touched her lips with her fingertips. Remembering…
Chapter 7
Penrose blew on his hands, bitingly cold, even though he wore gloves. He glanced out the window at the darkening sky. Definitely snow in the air.
The crested coach stopped in front of the Hall, and the butler had the front door open before Penrose alighted from the conveyance. He gathered up his satchel, full of papers he’d acquired on his five day trip to Lord Smithfield’s estate.
Twice a year he and Lords Smithfield and Eastlake met at one of their homes to discuss bills they wished to sponsor in the Lords, and to compare notes on estate matters. When the duchy had been unexpectedly thrust upon him at a young age, the lords, who had been his father’s peers and close friends, had provided him with a steady hand in the old duke’s place. After years of running his own estate, Penrose now made as many helpful suggestions as the others.
As he strode to the front door, his thoughts, as had many times during his time away, drifted toward Merry. He chuckled when he remembered the morning he’d left, and how enraged she’d become when he’d sent word that she had his permission to leave her bed after her injury. She’d tore down the stairs and let him know she had every intention of being up and about and certainly did not need his permission to do so. With all that fire and wrath, he wanted nothing more than to drag her to him and conquer her mouth as he wished to conquer her body.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” His butler, Jones, bowed. “It looks like we’re in for a bit of nasty weather.” He helped Penrose off with his greatcoat.
“Yes it does. Where is my mother?” The woman he really wanted to see would most likely be with her.
“I believe she and Miss Chambers are working in the dining room.”
Already an air of festivity surrounded him. Girls from the village, who only came during the holidays to help out, were busy decorating the Hall. Someone had gathered greens, and their scent brought him to where his mother and Merry−sitting on the floor at his mother’s feet−chatted and laughed.
“Penrose, you’re home!” Mother rose from her chair alongside Merry and embraced him. He returned her hug, glancing over her shoulder at the vixen sitting in a most unladylike manner on the floor. His eyebrows rose.
Merry regarded him, a slight smile on her lips, her head tilted.
A challenge?
Her slender fingers brushed back the wisps of blond hair that had fallen on her forehead. A smudge of dirt dusted her cheek, and she wore an old gown with a soiled apron over it. She never looked more beautiful to him. His groin tightened, and the sight of her pitched him into the whirlwind of emotions brought on by the minx.
“Miss Chambers.” He released his mother and nodded in Merry’s direction.
“Your Grace.” She moved to rise, and he extended his hand to help her. Despite his cool and logical mind, the jolt he felt was real. Merry jerked her hand back as if she felt it, too.
Penrose’s gaze roamed the women’s work area. Stacks of linens sat alongside plates, cups, saucers and chests of silver. He directed his attention to his mother. “What are you doing? It looks to me like you’re preparing for a feast.”
The dowager smiled brightly. “Exactly, my dear. Since you’ve been gone, Miss Chambers and I have been busy getting ready for the Christmas Eve ball. And the rest of the holidays, of course.” She took him by the arm and headed toward the doorway. “Perhaps we could all use a respite. I’ll send for refreshments.”
He turned. “Will you join us, Miss Chambers?”
“Yes, thank you, Your Grace. Please excuse me while I freshen up.”
His mother smiled fondly at Merry’s back. “Miss Chamber has been working very hard. We’ve just about finished the counting of linens and dinnerware. Merry also supervised the young girls from the village since Mrs. Bond was busy with her housekeeping duties.” She squeezed his arm. “Oh I do love the holidays, Penrose. We should entertain more often.”
Her excitement was contagious. He found himself smiling along with her. “Would you really wish to take on all this extra work several times a year?”
She waved her hand in dismissal as they entered the drawing room. “Miss Chambers is such a help, I feel as though I’m doing nothing at all.”
“But Miss Chambers may not be with us forever. Some young man may catch her fancy and she’ll be off planning her own parties.” His gut clenched at his own words.
His mother glanced at him, a mysterious smile on her face. “Yes. Perhaps Miss Chambers will catch the eye of a young man. Or, maybe she already has.”
Penrose’s heart sped up, but he kept his voice cool. “What do you mean? Have there been callers in my absence?”
The dowager sighed. “Sometimes I do wonder at your intelligence, my son.” She turned to the maid she’d summoned and instructed her to fetch tea and sandwiches.
They moved further into the room, settling on the settee near the warming fireplace.
“You still have not answered my question. Has Miss Chambers been receiving callers?”
“No, my dear. No one outside the family has been to see her.”
“Brandon?” He would never allow Merry to seriously consider his brother. As much as he loved the younger man, he had quite a bit of growing up to do before he took on a wife. Although, as the heir apparent to the dukedom, he should be encouraging Brandon to marry. Just not Miss Chambers. He pushed the why not question from his mind.
She shook her head. “Tell me abou
t your trip. Did you, Smithfield, and Eastlake come up with new ways to torture Parliament?”
Not satisfied with his mother’s evasive tactics, but acknowledging her wish to change the subject, he went into more detail about his meetings with the lords.
Tea arrived at the same time as Miss Chambers. She’d changed into another gown, and had fixed her hair. The smudge of dirt was also gone. Too bad, he would have liked to use his thumb to run over her soft cheek to erase it.
Merry sat across from them and poured. He leaned back and watched her graceful hands as she performed the duty. When she wasn’t spewing forth outlandish opinions, she was really quite charming and sophisticated. She glanced up as she handed him a cup, and her smile warmed him for more reasons than where his thoughts normally wandered.
Miss Chambers was kind, intelligent, and from all indications, loved fiercely and protectively. She would be a stalwart wife, and a wonderful mother.
“I see you’ve done quite a bit already to prepare for the Christmas season.” He took the cup from Merry’s hand.
“Yes. We’ve been very busy. I just love the holidays. All the preparations never seems like work to me.” Her eyes danced with glee.
“Did you and your father entertain a lot?”
Merry nodded. “We did. He oftentimes had students over for dinner, and we would all discuss politics or some other subject of interest.”
Penrose’s eyes widened. “You sat in on those discussions?”
Her eyes snapped. “Of course.” Then her defiant chin rose. “And why wouldn’t I?”
God, he loved how quickly she went from sweet little miss to a tigress. “I don’t mean to disparage you, or your father. I’m merely surprised a woman would be interested in such things.”
“Oh, I suppose it would make more sense to you if I preferred to merely discuss gowns, slippers, and gossip?”
He could no longer hold back his chuckle. She narrowed her eyes, and then her lips tilted, turned into a smile, and finally she laughed.
“Ah, see, Miss Chambers. We are able to laugh at ourselves, are we not?”
“And when will it be your turn?” She smiled sweetly and took a bite of a watercress sandwich, as the dowager duchess grinned behind her cup of tea.
Merry’s heart hadn’t gone back to its normal rhythm since Penrose first walked into the dining room. His presence had sucked out all the air. He’d towered over her, staring down with those riveting deep brown eyes that always caused her to feel as though she’d forgotten to put on her gown.
Now with him sitting across from her, his large frame dwarfing the settee, she had a strong desire to whip out a fan to cool her heated skin. With the blood pounding in her ears, she barely heard what he and Kitty discussed. This would not do. The entire time he was gone he’d invaded her thoughts, even while she’d slept.
But, oh, how he vexed her with that superior attitude. She studied him from beneath lowered lashes. His attraction lay not just in his good looks, but the way he held himself. The way he moved across a room like a panther seeking its prey. She shivered. Would that she were his prey.
“Are you cold, Miss Chambers?” Penrose regarded her.
Cold? She was ready to rip off her clothes. “No. I’m fine.”
Penrose stood. “Ladies, as much as I’ve enjoyed your company, there are things I must attend to before dinner.” He bowed to his mother and kissed her hand, then turned to Merry. With that predatory look in his eyes, he took her hand in his, and brought it slowly to his mouth, all the time staring in her eyes. Her breath caught. He rested his lips on her hand, casting a devilish smile he did so well. “Until later.”
Merry was both angry and about to self-combust. She did not want him to affect her in this manner. As he continually reminded her, he was a duke and she not even a member of the ton. But did he ever say that, or had she gotten that impression from Miss Jennings? She chided herself. No matter. The fact remained there could never be anything between them. And she didn’t need the governess to remind her of it.
The next afternoon Merry tapped on the library door.
“Enter.” The duke’s deep voice rolled over her.
He sat behind his massive desk, papers scattered about, a quill pen in his hand. He glanced up as she entered, a smile gracing his lips. “Good afternoon.”
“Your Grace,” she curtsied.
“Merry, please stop. You keep bobbing up and down every time you see me, and I’m becoming dizzy.” He grinned. “And I’m dismayed to find we’re back to ‘Your Grace,’ again.”
She felt the blush rise to her face. “I would ask a favor, Your…”
“Yes?”
“I seek permission to allow the girls to join me outside.”
“Outside? There must be a foot of snow out there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the window displaying a fairyland of white glistening on tree branches.
“That’s precisely why.” She swallowed a giggle at his puzzled expression.
“I’m afraid I’m confused. Why would you all go out into the snow?”
“To play.” She dragged out the last word.
“Play?” His puzzled expression made her laugh.
“Yes. Cavort. Have fun. Run around in the snow. Throw snowballs. Slide down the hill.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you’ve never played in the snow.”
He bristled. “Of course. When I was a boy.”
“Ah. Maybe it’s time to put all those papers aside and become a boy again.”
Penrose shook his head. “Nonsense. I haven’t time for that.”
“In any event, may I invite the girls to go outdoors with me?”
He leaned back in his chair, eying her carefully. “That is Miss Jenning’s territory. You should be asking her permission.”
Merry’s shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid Miss Jennings is not too receptive to my requests. Things would fare better if you gave permission. I would hate to see the girls excited and then have their hopes dashed if she says no.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Come. We’ll go to the nursery and fetch the girls. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”
The sound of young voices repeating multiplication tables greeted them as they opened the school room door.
“Your Grace,” Miss Jennings tittered, smoothing back her hair. Her cheeks flushed as she curtsied. “What a pleasure to have you join us.” She turned to Charlotte and Clare. “Ladies, please, remember your manners. Stand and curtsy to the duke.”
Both girls curtsied gracefully and wished Penrose a good day. Merry was impressed. Perhaps Miss Jennings was better for the girls. Merry always had too soft of a heart to discipline them.
“Miss Jennings, Miss Chambers would like to have the girls join her outside to play.”
“Play?” Miss Jennings glanced at Merry, her eyes wide.
“Yes. In the snow.”
Both girls jumped up and down and clapped. “Oh, please, we haven’t played in the snow in ever so long,” Charlotte said.
“If that is your wish, Your Grace. I don’t like having their routine interrupted, but of course, I bow to your wishes.” The governess’s pinched face and tightened smile communicated her disapproval.
“Wonderful.” He faced Merry. “They are free to join you in the snow.”
“Thank you.” She turned to the girls. “Come, get dressed in your warm clothes, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
They quickly curtsied once again and raced from the room.
“Your Grace, if you have a moment?” Miss Jennings stopped him as he meant to leave with Merry.
“Certainly.”
Merry hurried to her own chamber to put on her outdoor clothes. One of her favorite things to do was frolic in the snow. Perhaps it was a bit undignified and unladylike, but nevertheless, she indulged whenever she had the opportunity.
Still tugging on woolen gloves, she descended the stairs and greeted the girls as they hopped from one foot to the other
at the front door. Even the footman’s lips inched up slightly at their exuberance.
“Look what I found in the attic.” Penrose walked up to them, holding two wooden sleds.
“Oh, Your Grace, thank you so much,” Charlotte cried.
Each girl took a sled and disappeared through the door. Merry tightened the scarf around her neck.
“You are really going to play in the snow?” Penrose regarded her, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes I am, and if you had anything left of the child inside you, you would join us.”
“Madam, I am a duke, not a school boy. I plan to stay right here where it is dry and warm.”
“Coward.”
He merely responded with raised eyebrows.
The sounds of the girls yelping and racing around in the snow as children had done for ages, greeted her as she stepped through the door.
Merry stood and breathed deeply of the bracing cold air. Everything always seemed magical when it snowed. Lights burning within the house, with snow decorating the roof and windowsills, soothed her with a sense of peace. The dreariness of winter would vanished and turn into a sparkling white play land.
The first order of business was building a snowman. Charlotte requested a hat, scarf, carrot, and two pieces of coal from the footman, who supplied them with a full grin on his face this time.
They all diligently rolled three different sized balls and stacked them, then decorated their effort with the supplies. The exercise warmed her, as did the lighthearted expressions on the girls’ faces. Children needed to young and carefree, even when they were ladies.
Once the snowman stood proud in front of the manor, Charlotte and Clare spent time on the sleds, whooping with laughter when Merry took a turn and tumbled into a snow pile.
“Bravo, Miss Chambers.” Penrose leaned against the front door, dressed in his greatcoat, scarf and hat. He crossed his arms and grinned as she stood and swiped snow from her pelisse.
“Have you decided to join us?” She dragged the sled toward where he stood.
Merry Christmas, My Love Page 27