My Merry Marquess (Wallflowers Christmas Wish Book 3)

by Annabelle Anders

  Eve arranged herself into as much as a lounging position as was possible. “Faster, driver! Faster!” And then nearly flew off the back again when he ran faster than he had before.

  This is fun!

  By the time he’d drawn the sleigh up to the bakery, snow was falling again, and heavy clouds hung in the sky. Her feet and fingers were cold through and through, but she was so very happy they had gone.

  Taking hold of both her hands, he tugged her to stand beside him. When he drew her closer than was necessarily proper, she didn’t care the slightest.

  “I’m not ready to send you back to your aunt’s yet.” He flicked his gaze toward the inn. “But I don’t suppose it’s proper for me to take you back to my chamber unchaperoned.”

  Eve touched a fingertip to her lips. Her reputation would be in tatters if anyone had witnessed her visit yesterday. And today, she assumed that her aunt would be expecting her back shortly.

  Drawing on courage she hadn’t thought she’d need, she took a deep breath. “Would you care to join us for tea? I can’t guarantee Cook will provide us with anything edible, but as you well know, we have plenty of pie.”

  He readily agreed and then placed the sleigh up against the building that housed the bakery. He’d met her aunt in the square yesterday, but Eve hadn’t admitted to their prior acquaintance. And there was no chance in Hades that Noelle and Holly wouldn’t demand some sort of explanation.

  Eve straightened her back.

  There was nothing wrong with him meeting her family. He was merely a former acquaintance. Her sisters and aunt need never know about her past and how she’d humiliated herself over him.

  She watched Nicholas and admitted to herself that she wasn’t prepared to part with him for the day either. Warmth filled her heart the moment before a bitterly cold wind blew right through her coat and dress. It was almost as though the winter weather was warning her not to get used to his affection.

  She was being quite fanciful now.

  But the unsettled feeling refused to be shaken. A very wise voice inside of her, reminiscent of her mother’s, taunted that shouldn’t get used to this feeling. Being happy was an illusion—a trap.

  Thinking any of it was real would only make everything that much worse when bad things happened again.

  Chapter 7

  “I’m here, Eve!” a voice cried from across from the square just as Nick turned to escort Eve back to her aunt’s for tea.

  Eve stopped and waved at the approaching horse and sleigh just as Dash pulled the reins to bring the festive contraption to a halt.

  “Did Aunt send you looking for me? She ought to realize by now that I am quite safe with Dash,” a dark-haired young lady said to Eve.

  “Of course, you were, Noelle. Good day, Lord Blitzencreek.” Eve stiffened and dropped Nick’s arm abruptly as she greeted the arriving couple. Nick wondered at her change in demeanor as he stepped forward to assist Eve’s sister down to the snow-covered road.

  “There’s no need for you to escort my sister home after all, my lord. Brr! I’m positively freezing! And starving! What have you done to your hand, Eve?”

  Shiny droplets of blood were dripping from Eve’s mitten.

  “I cut it in the kitchen, earlier. I must have reopened it when I fell.” She made an introductory gesture, but Nick noticed that she was slightly paler than she’d been a moment before. “Lord Merriweather, have you met my sister Noelle?”

  “Lady Noelle.” Nick bowed.

  “Thank you for your assistance, My Lord.” But all of the girl’s attention was on Eve. “You poor thing. Oooh. Let’s get you back to Aunt’s house. Surely, Mr. Clark will have a salve to put on it.” She took a moment to send a vibrant smile in Dash’s direction. “Thank you for the lovely day, My Lord.”

  Nick willed Eve to meet his eyes, but she was staring at the drops of blood that had fallen on the snow. She did not correct her sister’s assumption and explain that she’d invited him for tea. With the arrival of her sister, it seemed, his invitation was to be revoked.

  Was she embarrassed by him, or was it something else? Or was it simply the sight of her own blood?

  It was his own fault. He berated himself for not checking her hand after she’d fallen.

  “Thank you, Lord Merriweather.” Eve finally glanced up and sent him a half-smile as her sister dragged her away. The level of disappointment he felt at being denied more time with her startled him. “The skating was most enjoyable.”

  “I’ll take this around to the stable lads and meet you inside.” Dash spoke for the first time since returning from his drive.

  “I can hardly wait.” Nick twisted his mouth into a cynical smile. “I’m quite looking forward to making the acquaintance of the Baron of Blitzencreek.”

  Dash glanced nervously toward the ladies who were halfway across the square and then back at Nick with a scowl. “On second thought,” Dash waved over one of the inn servants and handed the contraption over, “I’ll meet you inside now.”

  Twenty minutes later, Nick could only shake his head at the muddle his friend was in.

  “Keep this to yourself, though, won’t you?”

  Nick had never expected to see such a rogue as Dash tied up over a woman. “What, do you think that I’ll spread it through the village like some gossiping hen?”

  Dash shrugged at the same time Jack arrived looking every bit as scrambled as Nick felt.

  “Scotch. Now,” he announced. “With a side of dinner.”

  “Why the hell not?” Nick grumbled.

  He’d drunk his fill the night before. Why was he reluctant to do so again? Surely not because Eve had mentioned her worry over her father.

  He frowned, somewhat perplexed. Eve had seemed almost relieved that she wouldn’t be introducing him to her family.

  Almost as though he’d been listening at the door, Mr. Rudolph stepped inside and announced that he would return shortly with some hearty stew and ale.

  It went without saying that if they wanted quality Scotch, Dash was going to have to dip into the personal stockpile locked up in his chamber.

  An hour later, the three of them had emptied one bottle and were halfway through a second one.

  “Why are you so sour this evening?” Dash eyed Nick.

  “I believe that our Merry Marquess is having women trouble. And I’d be willing to wager she’s the pretty little miss who delivered pie yesterday.” Jack laughed.

  “How many blasted women live in this town?” Dash scowled.

  “None of this would be so difficult if women played by some sort of rules,” Nick commented. “You know, like in poker.”

  “They do have rules,” Dash commented. “Trouble is, they’re playing for a completely different prize than we are. Even worse, they refuse to tell us the rules.”

  “How so?” This was a novel concept to Nick.

  “We’re playing rationally—logically—placing bets based on the odds. Changing out cards. Folding when the stakes are too high.” Dash seemed quite pleased with his explanation.

  “And women,” Jack added, “hold their cards, smiling for all the world as though they’ve got a full house. Trouble is. They do. Even when they’re bluffing. But what if I’m not willing to go all in?”

  “Who wants you to go all in?” Dash pinned his gaze on Jack. “And if they’re holding a full house, then how can they be bluffing?”

  “Because she’s a damn woman,” Jack answered, looking unusually petulant.

  Nick nodded. Jack’s assessment made perfect sense.

  “Would be nice if we could read them.” Nick lifted his glass. “Same as you can read your horse. If their head is down, they’re content.”

  “Nostrils flaring, be wary,” Dash added before throwing back a generous swallow.

  “Only one thing you need to know and that’s if they’re willing.” Of course, that would be Jack’s take on all of this.

  “They seem willing enough when they get what they want.” Dash twiste
d his mouth cynically.

  “It’s never what they actually say that matters. It’s the things they don’t say.” Jack uttered almost to himself.

  Nick considered his favorite mare. Clarice rarely gave him any trouble. And when she had, she’d given him warning. Her head had been high, her eyes flashed, and she’d danced skittishly. Clarice never spooked without a good reason. The one time she’d bolted with him, they’d nearly stumbled across a boar.

  It reminded him of Eve’s posture when she’d allowed her sister to lead her away…

  “Speaking of cards…” Jack pulled out a deck of cards. “I say we forget our troubles in favor of a manly pursuit.”

  Nick and Dash both agreed at the same moment a stir at the end of the room had Nick pushing back his chair eagerly.

  Eve stood in the doorway with her head up and her back straight. “I’ve brought your pie.”

  Nick met her at the doorway, and as the foyer was empty, steered her toward the stairs. “I was already missing you.” He was feeling rather bold from the drink and now that she was here, he wasn’t willing to let her get away again so quickly.

  “You don’t wish to share my pie with your friends?” Eve glanced up at him with what he immediately realized was a not-so-innocent glance.

  Hell, no, he wasn’t going to share her pie.

  He all but dragged her into his chamber, careful not to spill the pie, and closed and locked the door behind him.

  Nick took the plate from her, set it on the counterpane of the bed, and then turned around and caught her staring up at him with eyes as hungry as his own.

  She stepped into his arms, and he wasted no time in claiming her lips.

  This. This was what he’d been waiting for, what he’d lacked, and had been impossible to feel with anyone else.

  “I can’t stay long,” she gasped against his mouth. Her hands were in his hair, clutching and tugging. Any reluctance he’d imagined he’d seen in her earlier had all but evaporated. She sucked his tongue into her sweet mouth and pressed her soft curves against him.

  One kiss that was meant to be enough for now turned to two, and then three. And then Nick stopped counting as neither of them seemed willing to walk away. She tasted him; she nipped at him. She explored his mouth with her tongue and his chest and shoulders with her hands.

  They had nearly two years to make up for and damned if Nick was going to do anything to stop her. Her need overflowed with all the desperation he’d felt himself. It conveyed more than words ever could.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d become so lost in a kiss. Time stood still—or it went on without him. He didn’t care which.

  A tremble ran through her but not from fear, from desire.

  He wanted her. He wanted all of her. As he thrust his cock against her belly, he knew that he didn’t want to take her hastily. He wanted to savor her. He wanted to claim her over and over again.

  Holy hell, he wanted to marry her.

  She broke their kiss for the fraction of an instant when he dropped his arm beneath her knees and carried her to the bed. She strained against him, increasing the tension mounting between his body and his mind. He’d told her he loved her once before. He vividly remembered how she’d touched his face and kissed his lips in response. She’d not said the words herself. “Eve. I lo—”

  “I missed you so much.” Her hands were stroking the sides of his face while she frantically pressed kisses along his chin and jaw.

  He climbed onto the bed and lowered some of his weight atop her. Excited, she panted, laboring to catch her breath. No need to hurry. Nick determined to take his time with her. They would have a lifetime together.

  The scent of apples and cinnamon teased his nostrils as he trailed his mouth down her chin to the delicate spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. “My Eve.” He lowered her bodice and captured one perfect bud between his lips.

  “Nicholas,” she whispered, arching her back.

  “So perfect, Eve. So beautiful.”

  She cried out when he clamped on and drew her deeper into his mouth.

  Her knees parted, and she cradled him with her legs. Home. He was home at last.

  The soft flesh of her thighs beckoned him to seek the pleasures between them and he moved his hips, rubbing himself against her.

  He ached to experience the warm wet heat that beckoned. Denying himself might prove more than a little painful.

  She whimpered when he claimed her other breast. “I need you, oh, Nicholas.”

  Locking his gaze with hers, he slowly crawled backward and then, inch by revealing inch, pushed her gown up her legs.

  Eyes overflowing with passion, she stared at him with uninhibited want, with unbridled need.

  Did she love him?

  What the hell was wrong with him? He loved her. If he made love to her right now, neither of them would have a choice.

  And yet he wanted her love. He wanted all of her.

  “Trust me, Eve?” The question surprised even him.

  She blinked and tilted her head as his words penetrated her fog of desire. “I think so.”

  He swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready for this. But if he took her tonight, he would never let her go.

  He owned her body but was less certain of her heart.

  And yet her knees trembled beneath his hands.

  He lifted her gown up and past her hips and then lowered his mouth to the taut skin low on her belly. He would love her this way for now.

  “Wider.” Her thighs opened for him. Nick inhaled her scent as he trailed his mouth lower. Intoxicating. So damn intoxicating. Using his tongue, he stroked just above her seam even as a wicked idea formed in his mind.

  He reached over and scooped his fingers into the pastry she’d cooked for him.

  “What are you—?”

  He spread the sweet filling along the inside of her thigh. Sweet heaven. All he needed now was to sip brandy from her lips.

  She moaned when he lapped at the sticky pastry. Loving her excitement, he did the same with the delicate skin inside her other thigh. He loved her gasps of satisfaction even more than her laughter.

  By the time he returned to her center, she was close to completion. He pinned her hips to the bed and buried his face between her legs.

  Nicholas ushered Eve down the stairs, out the back door, and insisted on escorting her across the square. She was glad for his arm as her legs felt decidedly weak.

  “I’m sticky,” she murmured into her coat, feeling incredibly naughty. She’d never be able to look at a pie again without remembering what he’d done.

  “Apple pie may not have been my favorite dessert before, but it certainly is now.”

  She glanced over and could barely make out his expression in the darkness. It was tender, teasing—affectionate.

  She’d felt horrible for leaving him standing in front of the inn earlier that afternoon. This time, it had been she who had panicked.

  She’d not corrected Noelle’s assumption that he was merely escorting her as a courtesy to his friend. As long as her sisters and her aunt didn’t know about him, it wasn’t quite real. And if it wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt her. None of which made rational sense.

  But she had hurt him.

  Was it possible that he’d suffered as much as she had in the months they’d been apart?

  After allowing Mr. Clark to rebandage the cut on her hand, she’d taken tea with her aunt and sisters but been unable to shake a strong regret.

  Which then quickly transformed into an urgent need.

  To apologize—to explain.

  Had she intended to make love with him when she took over the pie? She’d certainly been willing when he’d carried her to his bed.

  He’d asked her if she trusted him, and she’d struggled to give him an answer. Was that why he’d not made love to her, in truth? Oh, but how could she trust him when she had no idea when he was leaving? And why had she been willing to make love to him without any promises
?

  Because you never stopped loving him, her heart whispered.

  Starlight sparkled on crystals of snow. “The sky is clear tonight,” she ventured. “Do you think the roads will be clear tomorrow?”

  He pulled her close. “The condition of the roads won’t dictate the length of my stay in Maybridge Falls, Eve.” There was no hesitancy at all in his response.

  “What will dictate it then?” They’d arrived at the front walk leading up to her aunt’s home and both of them stopped.

  Nick raised her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of each. “You.”

  Eve’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

  “Because we deserve the chance that was stolen from us before.” His voice sounded gruff.

  Eve nodded and then raised herself to her toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Cool. Familiar. Wonderful.

  “We do, don’t we?” But could she ever trust in happiness again? Was that even possible? “Will you join me and my sisters and my aunt for dinner tomorrow evening?”

  Nicholas rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. “I’d be honored.”

  She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to break this spell.

  An owl howled in the distance and she jumped.

  “Goodnight, Nicholas.” She stepped backward.

  “Goodnight, Eve.”

  Chapter 8

  “She was going to try to salvage some of the meat, but it looks as though she’s thrown out the entire bird. “If this goes on much longer, we’ll be feeding the entire feline population in Maybridge Falls.” Holly widened her arms dramatically.

  “If we aren’t doing that already.” Eve followed her youngest sister into the kitchen, leaving the door to the back open to allow some of the leftover smoke to escape. Eve had truly hoped that Cook would serve up something edible that evening. Not that she was nervous about Nicholas’s visit. Why would she have cause to be nervous?

  Before walking her home the night before, Nicholas had told her he would spend the early part of today going through the correspondence he’d neglected. Eve had encouraged him to do so. What other news had he missed? Of his family, of his estates? He’d agreed that it was high time he lived up to his responsibilities.