How to Disgrace a Lady Page 13

  Merrick was the life of the table, engaging the quiet cousin, and ribbing Riordan when his manners flagged. My word, he is truly the sun they all revolve around, Alixe thought. He really was remarkable.

  After cheese and summer fruit had been served, Jamie rose and took his leave. Fireworks would be starting and he had hosting duties that required him to circulate among the tables. Soon, candles would be doused to make the most of the summer darkness. In anticipation of that, couples were making their way to viewing locations around the lawn.

  ‘Come with me,’ Merrick said in hushed tones. ‘I have it on good authority from Jamie that the best viewing will be on the rise over there.’

  Discreetly, he led her apart from the larger group. He’d planned well. A blanket awaited them, already laid out, pinned to the ground with a small woven basket. The location was indeed ideal. It put them at the back of the crowd. Everyone else would be facing away from them when the fireworks went off and it was just dark enough to not be noticed.

  Alixe seated herself on the blanket and opened her fan, still touched by the unexpected gift. ‘It is very pretty.’

  ‘Not nearly as pretty as the one who holds it.’ Merrick smiled. ‘How do you like your wardrobe now that you’ve had time to become accustomed to it? You’ve chosen well tonight—the gold silk de Chine is deeper than a yellow, it sets off your hair wonderfully.’

  ‘It’s magnificent. You chose well.’

  ‘I chose for you. Enjoy it even if you cannot bring yourself to enjoy the reasons for it. I liked thinking of all the money your father was spending. It served him right for putting you in this position,’ Merrick said slyly with a wink that made her laugh. He reached over and captured her hand where it held the fan, his voice dropping. ‘But this was not something your father paid for.’

  A true souvenir, then. More complications. What did it mean that he’d chosen this token of his own accord? Jamie had insinuated Merrick’s pockets were thinly lined and yet he’d spent his limited funds on a trinket for her. Was it merely his custom to give ladies presents? Did it mean anything? She wanted it to mean everything, that he’d fallen for the fantasy, too. A dangerous truth began to take root in her mind: after fighting it for so long, she might be falling in love.

  A hushed pop and the soft hiss of liquid being poured into a glass called her back to reality. ‘Champagne, Alixe?’ Merrick passed her a flute.

  ‘So that’s what was in the basket!’ Alixe took the glass. ‘This is a rare treat indeed.’

  Merrick clinked his glass against hers, his eyes on her, burning with their intensity. ‘A toast, Alixe, to all a man can ask for: a beautiful woman to himself on a lovely summer night.’

  Alixe sipped the cool liquid to dissipate the lump that welled in her throat. If the afternoon had been magical, the evening had quickly become astonishing. She had not missed the import of the fan, and now the champagne and—oh, my, was that a bowl of strawberries he was laying out? All for her. He was making it so easy to believe.

  ‘Open, Alixe,’ he commanded huskily, popping a juicy berry in her mouth. She could feel the berry dribble on her lip and flicked out her tongue to catch the droplets.

  ‘Allow me.’ Merrick leaned forwards, taking her mouth in a kiss.

  ‘No, allow me,’ Alixe said, seized with a sudden daring. She offered him a strawberry and he took it in his mouth, teeth bared, and bit, his eyes never leaving hers. She drew a sharp breath, struck by the sensuality of it.

  ‘I could do that to you, too, Alixe.’ He gave a wicked smile. ‘My mouth at your breast, suckling and perhaps the tiniest of nips to heighten the sensation.’

  The mere suggestion sent a thrumming heat to the core of her and she felt herself rouse as she had that afternoon. Madness surged.

  ‘And you? What could I do for you? Can I pleasure you the way you have pleasured me?’ A dangerous wildness edged her voice. He was holding her with his eyes and she could not look away. The future could be damned in exchange for this moment, this adventure.

  ‘You can, if you’re willing. You could take me in your hand.’

  His hand covered hers, guiding it to where his length pressed against the fall of his trousers. He was fully aroused beneath the fabric and Alixe knew to touch him this way was not enough.

  ‘I want to feel you against my hand, not the cloth,’ she murmured. She could be astonished by her own audacity later, but not now. She did not want to think here in the summer night. She fumbled with the buttons and sought him in the darkness. Her hand closed over the length of him, hot and hard within the circle of her fist.

  Merrick gave a small moan as her hand clasped him and began to move over the thick extent of him. Above them the first fireworks fractured the sky with their colours. She experimentally stroked the wide tender head of his manhood, eliciting a gratified exhalation from Merrick. This was glorious power indeed to know she could excite him so thoroughly. Merrick wrapped his hand about hers once more, settling her into a rhythm as her hand moved up and down his shaft. Then he leaned back, giving himself over to her ministrations while fireworks sprayed their colours across the night’s dark canvas.

  Alixe felt him surge once more against her hand, spending himself in warm release, and she knew she would not forget this, no matter what happened in London, no matter what happened for the rest of her life. She would not forget the evening she pleasured him beneath a summer sky with champagne and fireworks.

  She could not expect to hold him beyond the few days that remained, but she could make the most of what time she had. There would be plenty of time later to sort through the foolishness of falling for Merrick St Magnus.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Ashe threw back the curtains, letting sunlight splinter mercilessly against Merrick’s eyes.

  Merrick threw up a hand to ward off the bright glare with a groan. ‘More to the point, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Merrick opened one eye a crack. Ashe was dressed for riding, a fact worth noting given Ashe’s penchant for late nights and later mornings. By the look of things from the one eye he’d managed to open, the morning was not far advanced.

  ‘I am leaving, something I’d advise you to consider as well. Toss your necessities into a valise and we can be on the road before breakfast.’

  Ashe was already tearing through the wardrobe on the hunt for his travelling valise.

  ‘Whatever are you talking about?’ Merrick groused.

  ‘I’m talking about last night. You’re damned lucky I was the only one who saw you up on the hill last night with your champagne seduction and Lady Alixe’s hand on your cock.’

  Merrick sat up, instantly awake. It was funny how shocking news could do that to a body. Merrick’s mind raced even as his words fumbled. His first instinct was to protect Alixe. ‘I can explain.’ The words sounded ridiculous. He couldn’t come up with a plausible alternative for Alixe’s hand between his legs.

  Ashe laughed outright at his poor effort. ‘Explain? I assure you, I don’t need an explanation for what I saw. There was no mistaking it.’

  Another panicked thought swept him. ‘Did anyone else?’ He’d been fairly sure the location would not draw attention.

  ‘No, I told you already I was the only one out that way. You weren’t the only one with seduction on your mind.’ Ashe was impatient. ‘Now, let’s get you packed and be off.’

  ‘I can’t leave. I’ve got to take Alixe to the fair and there’s the masquerade ball tomorrow night—’

  Ashe cut him off in mid-list, disgusted. ‘All of which are reasons you should be leaving today. Listen to yourself, Merrick.’

  ‘Why are you leaving?’ Merrick opted for a different tack. ‘There’s only two days to go and there’s entertainment aplenty.’ He eyed Ashe with a speculative gaze. ‘Is it Mrs Whitely?’

  Ashe was not forthcoming. ‘I prefer to leave before things sour,’ he offered, purposely obtuse. ‘You ought to prefer it, too. You’
ve done your job for Folkestone. The party is winding down, no one has exposed Alixe for being discovered in the library with you and she’s ready to lay siege to London. You can meet up with her there, dance a few times and call it square with Folkestone. Whatever you still need to do for her relies on being in town. There’s nothing more that requires you here. Tell Folkestone you want to go on ahead and prepare the way with a well-placed comment here and there.’ Ashe paused, carefully considering his next words. ‘Leaving now will make it clear your time with Alixe is nothing more than discharging a gentleman’s agreement. Even I can see things are starting to get “confused” if last night was any indicator.’

  Merrick shook his head. ‘Alixe is counting on me today.’ Alixe would be devastated to wake and find him gone. She would think his departure had to do with last night. He could not bear for her to think he’d fled because of that.

  ‘Dear lord, I have a fool in love on my hands.’ Ashe faced him, hands on hips, a challenge to deny his claim. ‘You’ve gone and fallen for your own creation.’ Ashe shook his head. ‘It’s impossible, you know. For one thing, Jamie will kill you. For another, his father will kill you. Either way, you’ll end up dead. You weren’t meant for her.’

  Ashe gave a scornful laugh. ‘Men like you and me aren’t supposed to marry the virgin daughters of earls. There’s only marriage if you continue down this road, Merrick. Surely you know that? You cannot expect to dally with her and play at love simply to walk away when you get tired of this little fantasy. You will get tired. You’re not made for monogamy and you know it.’

  Merrick shoved back the bedcovers and rolled out of bed. ‘Thank you for the sermon, Vicar.’ He was cross with Ashe and with himself. He hardly knew what the truth was any more when it came to his feelings for Alixe Burke. He had gone far beyond being sympathetic for her. Sympathy had long ago morphed into admiration and admiration had turned into something much more powerful. He had only a few days left with Alixe and it would be a hardship to say goodbye. He would prolong it if he could.

  ‘You’re upset because I speak of reality,’ Ashe said from the bank of windows. ‘A gentleman knows when to make his exit.’

  Merrick snorted at that. ‘You and I have never pretended to be gentlemen.’

  Ashe relented, his tone softening. ‘Stay if you must, but see things as they are, not as you wish them to be. I am off and I am taking Riordan with me.’

  Merrick gave a rueful smile at the notion of Ashe playing nursemaid to Riordan. Ashe was hardly the tolerant nurturing sort. ‘Try to sober him up. He’s been drinking too much.’

  ‘I will. London has its distractions, if nothing else.’ Ashe was all seriousness. His tone provoked Merrick’s curiosity, but there was no time for that conversation at present.

  ‘Godspeed, then, Ashe.’ For a moment Merrick prevaricated. Perhaps he should go. If Riordan was in true need, he should be there for him. But Alixe needed him, too. There were things that needed sorting out between them for his own peace of mind and Riordan might simply be being Riordan.

  ‘I will see you in London.’ Ashe saluted with the riding crop and exited the room, leaving Merrick with the chaos of his thoughts.

  Merrick dressed himself with care, gingerly testing the seams of his second-best day shirt in case Alixe had tampered with more than one set of clothes. He let out a sigh of relief when the sleeves held.

  Ashe was right. Things had gone far off course where Alixe was concerned. He was no longer a social tutor to her. In all honesty, that role hadn’t lasted much beyond the outing to the Roman ruins. He’d kissed her that day for himself because beautiful things should be kissed. She’d been uncertain and trusting in his arms, but not naïve. Even then, she’d questioned his motives as he should have done. It had been too easy to explain his actions to himself as an act of good will, part of some secret curriculum to turn Alixe Burke into a social sensation.

  He knew now that she didn’t need to be turned into anything. Ashe had called her his creation. But he had not created Alixe Burke, he had not even refashioned her. All she’d become had already been there. He’d merely uncovered what she’d chosen to hide and now he was about to turn all that over to another man.

  The very thought made him sick.

  He did not want to turn Alixe Burke over to another. But any other answer was impossible as Ashe had so adroitly argued. To not turn her over to London’s fine young men meant marrying her himself, a prospect he was not fit to fulfil. He had secrets. She didn’t really know who he truly was. If she did, she would despise him. She would demand faithfulness, something he wasn’t sure he was equipped to give. Even if he could give her that, he had no means of supporting her.

  He’d be completely reliant on her dowry and whatever her father saw fit to endow them with. Those were invisible chains that would chafe him every day. He would have become a kept man in every sense of the concept. There would be no wagers to hide behind, all disguises for what he was would be stripped away. Society would whisper behind their hands that he was Alixe Burke’s pet. He would not bear the brunt of society’s scorn alone. Alixe would share it. Society would say Folkestone had bought his daughter a husband. He and Alixe would live in a kind of cruel exile without ever leaving town.

  Merrick reached inside the wardrobe for his boots. The travelling valise Ashe had sought tumbled out. He could still follow Ashe and Riordan. No. That was the coward’s way and it would serve no purpose. His feelings, his confusion, would still exist. It was best to stay here and wait them out. If this was infatuation, it would pass. He never stayed infatuated for long. If it was something more, that would have to be sorted out, too. Better to do it without the rosy glasses of distance to diffuse it.

  Alixe was waiting for him downstairs in the main hall among the other guests taking carriages over to the Leas. Merrick halted for a moment on the stairs to study her. The apple-green muslin walking dress she wore gave her the appearance of a summer goddess, the white-ribbon trim at the bodice adding a hint of virtue to the lush charms on display. A bonnet of matching green moire fashioned in the new French shape dangled by its ribbons from her hand. She looked up and her face lit with pleasure at the sight of him. It was a kind of genuine pleasure he was not used to seeing on a woman’s face. It had nothing to do with coy calculation about how to get him in to bed and how to exact the thrills he could coax once there.

  Yet he felt his arousal stir at the sight of her wanting him. He thought of her touch on his phallus, the otherworldly expression on her face when she’d come against his hand. And the burning started all over again. He highly suspected there wasn’t enough swimming in the world that would quench that particular fire. And yet he could not have her, not completely. That was one thing he could not take from her. He was not a rake who trifled with virgins.

  Merrick made his way to her side and swept her hand into the crook of his arm. She felt natural beside him, being with her an easy sort of companionship. It would take some getting used to being without her when the time came. But that day wasn’t today. He must not let the future ruin the present. She was his for today, and for tomorrow and a little time beyond, that was all that mattered. ‘What shall we do first?’ Merrick asked.

  ‘Let’s see the animals. The animal pens smell better in the morning.’ Alixe laughed and let him lead her to a waiting gig. He helped her up and they set out on the road to the Leas.

  The fairgrounds were bursting with people who’d come to enjoy the June treat. Excitement trembled on the light breeze and Merrick felt himself get caught up with it. Today was not a day to worry about what might come. Alixe felt it, too. Her smile was contagious and she squeezed his arm as they strode towards the animal pens to see who had the biggest pig or the fattest calf.

  He bought her a pasty and ducked her behind a tree to lick a juicy droplet off her lips with his tongue. She laughed and sank into him. ‘How is it that you always smell so good?’ she murmured, her eyes dancing up at him with mischief. ‘You smell like l
avender and oak and something else I can never quite name.’

  Merrick chuckled. ‘It’s the coumarin. I have a perfumer on Bond Street make it especially for me. It’s supposed to simulate hay after it has been cut.’ The cologne was one expense he hadn’t been able to force himself to forgo. It reminded him of innocent summer days before his life had become corrupted with all its various vices.

  ‘What’s it called?’ Alixe made a show of burrowing her nose into the collar of his shirt and breathing deeply.

  ‘The scent is fougère. Many perfumers can mix a fougère, but I have a place I prefer.’ Merrick winked. ‘Perhaps the fougère is part of my charm.’

  ‘I think your charm is more than that.’ Her eyes turned misty. ‘What are we doing, Merrick?’ Her arms were settled about his neck, his own hands were settled at her hips, resting as if they belonged there.

  ‘We’re doing the best we can, all we can.’ There was no sense pretending he didn’t understand what she was asking. It was the very same thing he’d been grappling with himself. He moved to kiss her again. She turned her head and evaded the gesture.

  ‘What sort of answer is that supposed to be?’ she challenged softly.

  ‘The only answer we can make. What do you want me to say, Alixe? Do you think I can save you?’ He dropped his voice to a husky growl. ‘Or do you think you can save me? I’ll tell you neither is possible. We have shared time. We have found pleasure together. We have come to care for one another beyond what we expected when we began this association. We are caught in the throes of those feelings, but that doesn’t mean we should marry.’ Merrick stroked the curve of her jaw with the back of his hand. ‘Marriage to me will not save you and it certainly won’t save me, my dear, although I do appreciate the thought.’