Earl of Scandal (London Lords) (21 page)

The presumption of the knave! He hadn’t even asked her! And besides, if he wanted to marry her, he would have to take her as she was, plain, no-nonsense Merissa!

But then she recalled the beautiful blue-gray silk, and the way it had felt against her skin. If she refused this opportunity, she would be cutting off her nose to spite her face.

Madam Dubonet patted her arm. “Don’t fret,
ma belle
. You will look exquisite. The rest of the ladies will be beside themselves with envy, I assure you.”

“But I don’t want...” Merissa gave the modiste a doubtful look. “I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not.”

“Demoiselle, it is not the gown they will envy, but your fresh charming innocence. That is something no amount of money can purchase. And I believe it is the very quality that has stolen His Lordship’s heart.”

... the sharp-tongued hussy... who has stolen my heart.
Christian’s playful words came back to her. But was it only play, or was he trying to tell her that he cared for her?

Merissa swallowed hard. She’d never been so terrified in her life. To think that Christian might want her, love her. What if she were getting her hopes up for nothing? How would she deal with the pain if he rejected her a second time?

The tinkle of the bell over the shop door jarred Merissa from her thoughts. Suddenly Christian was standing before her, looking much too big and male for the small salon. His wavy brown hair was ruffled from the breeze, his cheeks flushed, his smile dazzling. “Ready, Miss Cassell?”

Merissa nodded and took his arm.

Fourteen

Hours later, Merissa hurried down the hall from the bedchamber, and then slowed to a staid walk as she neared the stairs. She must remember to act the lady, but it was difficult to restrain her exuberance. The new gown she wore felt as light as a feather and her laced “Corinthian” sandals were nearly like going barefoot.

Then she saw Christian standing at the bottom of the stairs and all her inhibitions returned. He looked dashing in a deep blue tailcoat with gray trousers and a pale blue waistcoat—the immaculate elegant earl. His gaze roamed over her. Merissa was acutely aware of the thinness of her garments, the sheer netting that only barely concealed the swell of her breasts. She might as well have been naked from the way Christian regarded her.

He bowed as she approached him, then reached to take her hand and kiss her fingers. Through the silver net gloves she wore to match her gown, she could feel the warmth of his lips. “You look magnificent. Whatever Madam Dubonet charged me, I vow it was worth twice the amount.”

Merissa shivered as she withdrew her hand. His bantering words were edged with an intensity that unnerved her.

“Cold?” he asked solicitously. “Let me fetch your mantle.” He wrapped her in the velvet pelisse and took her hand. “Come, the coach is waiting.”

As they stepped outside the town house, Merissa stared in surprise. She’d expected they’d ride in the phaeton Christian usually drove, or perhaps a covered barouche in deference to the cool nighttime air. The opulent blue and black coach waiting at the curb was beyond anything in her experience. A raised crest of gold emblazoned the door of the vehicle and two liveried footmen waited beside it.

“It’s the official Bedlington coach,” Christian explained. “I always feel a little foolish riding in it, but I thought tonight you would be grateful for the warmth.”

Merissa nodded dumbly. As they reached the vehicle, one of the footmen started to help her in. “That won’t be necessary, Philip,” Christian said. Merissa flushed as Christian himself lifted her into the coach, letting his hands linger on her waist much longer than necessary. At least there was no one to see. The footmen had immediately assumed their places to the front and back of the vehicle.

Christian seated himself beside her on the blue velvet squabs and once more took her hand. His gloved fingers gently squeezed. “I miss driving, but there are other advantages to traveling this way.” In the dim interior, she could not make out his expression, but his voice was husky and beguiling. Before she could think how to answer, he leaned over and kissed her, a slow lingering kiss that left her breathless and trembling.

“You see,” he said. “We have complete privacy this way.” He nuzzled her neck. His warm breath made her shiver as his lips grazed her earlobe. She felt his teeth nip lightly, then the tantalizing feel of his tongue as he traced the whorl of her ear. Her body was flooded with thick, sweet pleasure. She moaned softly and then gasped at the startling sensation of his tongue in her ear.

“Do you like that?” he whispered.

She moaned again in response. She felt as if she were melting, her whole body dissolving. Her nipples were hard, tingling points. Her lower body trembled with weak, helpless longing.

He kissed her neck again, then gently drew away. Merissa felt the loss profoundly. “If only we had a bit more time,” he said.

“How far to the party?” she sighed.

“Not far enough. But perhaps I could have the driver circle the block a few hundred times.”

Merissa closed her eyes as a hot quivering longing spread down her body. Did he mean to seduce her here in the coach? Heaven help her, but she wanted him to. It would take nothing to strip the sheer silk dress from her body. She wanted to feel his hungry mouth on her breasts, her thighs, on her most intimate flesh.

“But it would be most ungentlemanly of me to muss your gown.” His voice was tinged with deep regret as he smoothed the front of her pelisse. She could feel the faint pressure of his fingers as they glided over the peaks of her breasts. “I wouldn’t want you to arrive at your first London party looking disheveled and flushed.”

She inhaled sharply, so aroused she feared she would explode. Curse Christian for his teasing! He knew exactly what he was doing, how to dissolve her will. And he was the one exercising restraint, he—the licentious lord she’d once scorned as depraved. How did he endure it? Her whole body ached with repressed desire.

She took a deep breath as he rubbed her fingers between his warm hands. “Relax, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

Darling.
His voice was full of promise, hinting at all the carnal delights he could offer her. But it was also touched with an unexpected tenderness. For the first time, Melissa allowed herself to wonder if there might be some truth to Madam Dubonet’s conjectures. Was it possible Christian meant to propose to her?

Even as socially backwards as she was, she could guess that arriving at a social function alone with Christian would provoke outrageous gossip. Knowing that, she’d half-heartedly asked Charles to come along. He’d expressed dismay at the prospect, assuring her that he found such format events “dashedly dull.” She hadn’t pressed the issue, knowing that if Charles didn’t come, she’d have much more time alone with Christian. And that—disgraceful wanton that she was—was precisely what she yearned for.

Now, she also considered that Christian’s actions might very well be deliberate. Had he planned this evening out with her in order to announce to the world that he meant to make her his wife?

The idea thrilled and terrified her. She half wanted to jump out of the coach and run back to her safe, boring life at Whytcliff. But it was already too late. The coach had come to a halt in front of a huge mansion with candles and lamps gleaming in every window.

~ ~ ~

“Lord Bedlington, sir, how delightful to see you again.” The WentfieId butler bowed low as Christian and Merissa entered the classically decorated foyer, complete with huge marble columns and statues of Greek gods. “And you have a young lady with you.”

“Yes, Hinton. She’s a friend of mine from the country. I would prefer you didn’t announce us. I’d like to slip in quietly if possible.”

“Of course, my lord. If you’ll come this way.”

Christian glanced at Merissa as they followed the butler. She looked very ill-at-ease. He didn’t want to put her through the ordeal of being formally announced and having everyone stare as they entered.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have teased her in the coach. But it had been impossible not to indulge in a bit of love play. She looked so tempting this night, everything he’d imagined since the first time he’d contemplated her done up as a fashionable lady of the ton. She’d put the rest of the women to shame with her freshness, her wood nymph prettiness.

Yes, everything was going exactly as planned. He’d make certain she had a marvelous time. Tempt her with fabulous delicacies from the Wentfield kitchens, dance every dance with her if she wished, never stray from her side for a moment. Observing his obvious devotion, his friends and acquaintances would treat her with respect and courtesy. She’d realize all he could offer her. Then, at the end of the evening, alone in the coach, he’d propose. Her prickly pride softened and her passionate nature aroused by his kisses, she would say ‘yes.’

“Christian, dear, how good of you to come.” Lady Wentfield approached, her plump person aglitter with diamonds and egret feathers. She held her hand out for him to kiss. Then her glacial blue eyes focused on Merissa. “And you’ve brought someone. How extraordinary.”

“Yes. Lady Wentfield, may I make known to you, Miss Merissa Cassell. She is my... ah...  friend from the country.”

Merissa dipped into a graceful curtsy. “A pleasure, madam.”

Lady Wentfield’s brows rose and she rapped her fan against Christian’s chest. “You worried me for a moment, dear. For a second I thought you meant to introduce Miss Cassell as your fiancée. I vow if you had done so, I would have had to retire immediately, don myself with black crepe and prepare for the end of the world.”

Christian felt his face tighten. Damn his wretched reputation. It was not going to be easy to convince Merissa of his feelings if everyone kept reminding her of what a hardened rake he was. How should he respond? If he suggested there might be some truth to Lady Wentfield’s first assumption, the gossip would be all through the gathering in no time, He had no desire to force Merissa to endure ceaseless innuendoes about their impending engagement, especially when he hadn’t even proposed yet.

His difficulties worsened as he spied Diana Fortescue coming towards them. Her outrageousness appeared to have reached new heights. The gown she wore was cut so low her nipples were visible.

“Christian Faraday, you naughty boy,” she pouted. “You’ve come back to London and haven’t been to call on me once.”

“I’ve been busy, Diana,” Christian said. He bestowed a meaningful glance on Merissa.

It was the wrong thing to do. Diana abruptly recognized her competition. Her eyes narrowed and a cruel look came over her face. “What, still wasting your time with plain, stupid country misses. What’s her secret, Christian? Do family interests require you to endure her company for some reason?”

Christian felt Merissa stiffen beside him and his own anger flared. “You’ve appalling manners, Diana,” he snapped.

As he turned to guide Merissa away, he heard Diana’s gasp of outrage. She wasn’t used to being cut. A sense of foreboding came over Christian. Diana was a bad enemy to make. But what else could he do? It was either insult her or allow Merissa to be insulted.

He leaned close to whisper in Merissa’s ear. “They aren’t all like that, I assure you. Some ladies of the ton actually live up to the term.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Merissa sounded as if she were gritting her teeth. Good. The London crowd would respect her for her stubborn spirit.

“Let me get you some raffia,” he suggested. “And something to eat.”

They sampled the offerings on the buffet tables, and Christian enjoyed Merissa’s wide-eyed delight with the various delicacies. Then, as the orchestra began to warm up, he guided her toward the dance floor. Along the way, he met several acquaintances, and introduced Merissa simply as “Miss Cassell from Derbyshire.” There was no mistaking the assessing gazes the women gave Merissa, nor the astonished looks of his male friends. It had been so many years since he spent any time in one lady’s company that everyone guessed Merissa was someone special.

Then they waltzed together, gliding over the polished dance floor as the hundreds of candles in the huge chandelier above them surrounded them in twinkling, starry light. Christian knew a deep happiness. His beloved’s face was flushed with pleasure. Her body felt lithe and alive in his arms. The night seemed enchanted, and his heart swelled to bursting. Gone was the jaded cynical fellow he’d been only a few weeks before.

Good riddance, Christian thought. I’m a new man. A man with purpose and dreams. And he owed it all to Merissa.

As the strains of the waltz trailed off, he drew both of Melissa’s hands into his and gazed into her lovely blue-gray eyes.
Now
, a voice inside him whispered,
ask her now.

The moment shattered as someone came up behind him and touched his arm. He turned to see who had accosted him. Honoria Averill waited behind him, her expression unreadable. “Christian,” she said, “I must speak to you.”

His heart sinking, he nodded. “Give me a moment. I’ll meet you in the drawing room.”

He turned back to Merissa. “I’m sorry, but there is something I must do. Let me take you back to the refreshment table. I promise I won’t be long.”

He started to guide her out of the ballroom. On the way he spied his Aunt Agnes and her two daughters seated nearby. Phoebe and Felicity had just barely come out. Likely, this was their first ball. They would make very respectable company for Merissa.

“Auntie, dear.” Christian bowed low over his aunt’s beringed fingers. “What a delight to see you.” He smiled at his young cousins and kissed the hands of each of them in turn, making them giggle. “You’ve both grown up to be charming young ladies.” He turned back to Merissa and drew her forward. “Merissa, this is Lady Agnes, my aunt, and her daughters, Phoebe and Felicity. Auntie, girls, let me introduce you to my friend Merissa Cassell from Derlingham. This is her first visit to London. I know you’ll make her welcome.”

He gave Merissa a quick kiss on the cheek. “Trust me, darling. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”