Face to Face (The Deverell Series Book 2) (33 page)

Merry had learned with Varian that truth was at times a merciless thing. Yes, she had gone to his bed willing. Yes, this was the result. Yes, she was as much to blame as he was. Hitting him had done nothing to change that. Still, how could she explain to him what this meant to her, without explaining who she was?

“I don’t expect you to understand what this means to me,” she whispered miserably. “I am forever complete in my ruin. I am carrying your child. I can’t go home. Not ever. I will never see my family again. That door is barred. Do you think I could bring this shame to them? They might have forgiven me your bed, they won’t forgive me the disgrace of your bastard child.”

They.
Would she ever tell him who they were? Somehow Varian had failed to note until this moment she still had never fully let go of the belief that someday she would return to Falmouth. It had not occurred to her that her family was lost until the child, when they had been lost to her the first night she had taken him into her heart.

Sighing, Varian also realized the convenient workings of his internal composition spared him from troubling overly much about who Merry had been before her advent on his ship. Was he so greedy, so self-absorbed and selfish in all she brought to him, he was unwilling to acknowledge their happiness came at a loss to her; a loss she might still feel and be hurt by?

Varian said, “I happen to like children, Merry. I am selfish enough to feel vain pleasure from the thought of you carrying mine. If you are hiding under the blankets out of fear of what you think this means to me, that I will put you ashore in Falmouth and leave you to your plight, you can stop that nonsense now. It is an insult to you. It is an insult to me. I am pleased about the child. You may not have them, Little One. I think you are pretty safe in assuming, if I have not already proven my devotion to you, that you are stuck with me if you want me. Both of you are stuck with me. As always I get the better trade.”

It was not until Varian spoke the words that he realized how deeply true they were. What surged upward inside him shocked the hell out of him. He was not a man who anticipated being shocked by himself, not any more, not after all the changes of his life, not at his age. Having brought it to the surface between them, he was happy about the child. That was what he was feeling; happy because he wanted this child with Merry.

Merry pulled free of the pillows to look at him then. What Varian found on her tear stained face shamed him. It was clear she had been frightened over his reaction and what it would mean to her.

Merry swept his face with her eyes, then frowned. “I am sorry I behaved childishly. I didn’t want to have to cope at present with seeing your reaction if it were bad. This reaction I did not anticipate. Why are you happy?”

Varian smoothed the gossamer curls from Merry’s face. “In case you have forgotten, I adore you, Merry. I adore the thought of us having a child. We can raise the child in Virginia if you wish, Little One. The only place I can’t live is England. Too much risk, too much unpleasant history for me, and too much burden for you and our child. That is the cost of this child, never returning to England. And of course, there is the cost of being stuck with me.”

Merry slowly eased upward into a sitting position beside him. “What about the ship? What about Morgan? Me in Virginia or us in Virginia?”

Varian knew her well, and could read every subtle nuisance of change on Merry’s face. Worry, fear, uncertainty, curiosity, and, yes, there was even pleasure there, as if the idea of a child was beginning to form some small appeal for her.

“We would live in Virginia, Merry. I have lived ten years in Virginia as Varian Devereaux during my years as Morgan. I have returned there throughout the decade with none the wiser. I am confident of our safety under that alias. I have business in London with Camden, but when I am through with that, I can leave the ship and be with you as long as you want me. I just can’t be with you in England. Too much risk and too much unpleasantness, for us both.”

“You are such an insufferable man at times,” Merry exclaimed in frustration. “I know the worst of you, Varian. I know Morgan. What possible legacy could there be in England you would be reluctant to share with me?” She pushed her curls from her face and hugged her legs with her arms. Laying her cheek on her knees, she was silent for a long time, and then shifted her eyes to his. “The thought of Virginia is pleasing, even tolerable with the thought of being stuck with you.”

Her fast pleasure stung him. Even in his greedy pleasure of this he couldn’t escape the truth he was taking more from her by having this child. Nor could he quiet the voice that had been taunting him for days he had done this deliberately, subconsciously chaining her to him in his fear of losing her. A bastard child was an entirely different fate for her and made the necessity of him absolute. Even now he did not know if his acts in creating this child had been calculated.

Was it fair to burden her this way? He studied her young face, guilt sharply jabbing him. Her youth gave him the likelier advantage of having things his way, and he wondered if Merry even knew the child was not an inescapable destiny.

Was she too young to understand she didn’t have to have his child, that the child wasn’t a decided fate? Was that possibility something she even knew of?

“There is another possibility for you to consider if you don’t want the door locked permanently against you returning to Falmouth to your family someday,” Varian said calmly into her still uncertain gaze. “It is not exactly a decided fate that you have my child. There are things women can do not to have a child. We will reach port within a fortnight. I can make arrangements in London if that is what you decide you want to have me do.”

It took her an agonizingly long time for Merry to attach meaning to his words. The emotions on her face were flashing so rapidly he couldn’t catch any of them. Finally, he didn’t have to.

“How can you be so vile as to even suggest such a thing?” she screamed, at a level surely heard all through the decks. Merry hit him again. This time twice as hard. Again he let her, this time with deep relief, knowing on the other side of his chin would be a twin bruise. “You odious, insufferable man, do you believe me capable of that? Are you such a demon you could suggest to rid us our child before it is born?”

“I never suggested you do it, Little One,” he said on a ragged whisper, taking her in a protective circle of his arms. “I only wanted you aware of the option. Aware, and I am relieved you rejected it. That decision was not one that would have pleased me if that were what you decided, Merry.”

Indignantly, Merry hissed, “I did not reject it. I refuse to consider it.”

Varian lay back on the bed with her in his arms, until she was draped on his chest, her beautiful face above him. “Why not? Why would you not rid yourself of my child and perhaps me after the process? It’s not too late for you to go home, Little One, no matter what you may think will happen because you’ve been with me. It’s not such a sin they would not want you back with them.”

Frustrated, Merry exclaimed, “You are not that easy to get rid of, you insufferable man. If I could rid myself of you I would run to the first ship I could find in Bermuda and begged passage back to Falmouth. I am stuck with you it seems until I tire of you or reason out a way to stop loving you.”

He smoothed the curls from her face and placed the lightest of kisses on her mouth. “I hope you don’t tire of me soon, Merry. I can’t image a time when I will ever tire of you. Just when I think I have seen all your facets, you create a new one. You are going to make a beautiful, but very amusing mother. I love the thought of watching you run through meadows and playing with dirt, making our child smell and touch things. No stuffy attic bedrooms and governesses. Just touch of Merry.”

Varian’s laughter came in such pleasant waves the last of Merry’s temper melted. She made a playful face at him as her soft arms slipped around his neck. She kissed each one of the surely to form bruises. Then on a heavy sigh, half-delighted, half-exasperated, she said, “I don’t even want to imagine what manner of father you will make. Mr. Craven is right. I am a lunatic for wanting to see that.” She kissed his chest and when her face lifted there was a subtle change to her expression. “Why do you want to see that, you insufferable man? I make your existence preposterous at times.”

Brushing the dark curls back from her face, he whispered, “You make me happy. Touch of Merry. Touch of happiness. I want to share every breath of my life with you.”

 “Will you still want to watch me run through meadows when I am fat and unsightly and preposterous?” she murmured breathlessly, her lips trailing across his face.

He caught her lips as they sailed passed his mouth. In between lingering touches, he whispered huskily, “You will never be fat. Never be unsightly. You have never been preposterous. You will always be beautiful. I can’t wait to see the beauty of you round with my child.”

Varian eased her back against the pillows and he wanted her with an intensity that was glorious. Merry’s eyes beneath him told she wanted him as well. It seemed right he should touch his lips first on the soft flesh covering their child and he did. His arms around her slim hips, he sent his mouth to explore the smooth surface of her womb.

She arched against his mouth, the slow trek he made across her lower abdomen becoming more insistent. He felt joy, unmistakable joy from her exulted welcome of his kisses there, in the way her hands slipped to gently caress on each side of his face, and in her blissful acceptance of a child between them.

He had not wanted this. He had long since believed himself beyond this need; he could not imagine anything filling him more completely than knowing he was kissing his child nestled in the womb of this miraculous girl. His child. He had never wanted anything more. More than this child. More than Merry. More than the joy he felt at this moment, being with them both.

Later, as Merry slept, Varian moved down to enfold her hips in his arms, to lay his cheek carefully on the soft under curve of her full breasts. Through his bliss-numb senses drifted the ever present worry of Indy.

He was not a man given to surrender to futility, yet a steely coldness crept into his stomach as the truth came to him that he no longer had the luxury of not choosing between Merry and Indy. He wondered if he could live with the sacrifice of the boy.

Merry could not stay on his ship much longer. Once he concluded his business with Rensdale in London they would have to set sail for Virginia at once, leave the ship and by doing so leave the boy. Indy wasn’t ready for life on land. He didn’t believe in the possibility of that. Varian was worried about leaving him just yet, unsure if the lad would go with his new freedom to kill Rensdale. He knew the boy would carry a burden forever if he killed Rensdale.

As much as he wanted the new life nestled in her womb, his child with Merry changed everything. What it changed was the freedom not to let go of Indy.

~~~

Varian was as unabashedly natural about her pregnancy as he was in his lovemaking. At first it had embarrassed her. Merry thought she would die of humiliation those early days, though her condition was a private circumstance between them.

She was used to men who accept the role of impending fatherhood with proper reserve and a certain degree of self-consciousness. Varian was a man of fully expressed sensuality. The child, a natural bond of her to him, became a part of his intimacy and love play.

His hands moved freely in exploration of her slowly changing body. If he felt an impulse to kiss her there, he did. If she tried to revert to modesty in covering herself when she slept, he would not allow it. He wanted to see, to feel, to touch, and he did so with frequency.

Watching him, Merry blushed, wondering if anyone would have thought the world’s most villainous pirate would be so openly enraptured by impending fatherhood. Yet his displays only moved her deeper into her feelings for this man.

He never spoke of their future, was never willing to share his past so she might understand him better, but there was something about such total tenderness that made the absence of those things not matter. His love filled her with contentment for the life she had chosen with him.

Varian was so happy with this child, when logic told her he shouldn’t be. Merry had asked him to explain it to her.

He told her:
I have lived so long without hope, Little One, and now you carry it in your young flesh. How could I not be happy?

Merry didn’t understand his words, but he had made love to her so tenderly that night she’d weep afterwards in his arms.

Lying back against Varian’s bed, wrapped only in a towel, freshly bathed and slightly damp, one hand moved in soft patterns against her womb. Her eyes fixed at the vast endless horizon through the windows, and she thought,
I am floating through my life and I know not where I am going. I do not care because I love him.

~~~

Varian paused in the doorway, savoring the vision Merry made. She was naked, the towel draped low at her hips, her creamy flesh sparkling still lightly damp. Her tiny fingers delicately stroked her womb. Her beautiful lush breasts were half hidden by her web of dark curls, shimmering against her paleness. Her eyes were closed and every beautiful line of her face rich with animation. Somehow she managed the image of part Venus, part Madonna and part virginal innocent all at once.

There were times when what she stirred in him was so powerful it was frightening. Like it was now. Her thoughts had left traces of worry and sadness on her face, even in this absolutely erotic vision she made.

He closed the door and eased down close to her. Varian kissed her lightly on the lips. He smiled to hide his concern as her wide doe eyes of crystal blue fluttered open to him.

“What troubles you, Little One?” he asked her quietly, brushing wayward curls from her face.

Merry rolled onto her side toward him, bringing the towel into place to cover her. The gesture made him smile more. Her shyness with him seeing her nude was endearingly sweet.