Love's Patient Fury (The Deverell Series Book 3) (8 page)

To say Kate was distraught would be to understate the case grossly.
Poor Kate. It would have been better to stay meek.
It took all of thrice for Varian to realize Kate wasn’t going to find her voice any time soon, and to pick up his own question.

The outer curve of his finger lifted to Merry’s cheek. “Don’t look so dismayed, Little One, I daresay the two of us will manage something without Kate’s advice. We always manage something.”

Somehow she managed calm as she met Varian stare for stare, following him with her eyes as he moved around the low stone wall and settled in a lazy dissent of long limbs too close to her on the quilt. The sight of him sprawled on the deep bed of grass, surrounded by kittens and blackberry tarts, fallen flower petals, Kate and Philip, was preposterous. It seemed to underscore the absurdity of their marriage.

“How dare you spy on me. Wouldn’t there be more amusement off with Camden instead of prowling the grounds so you can intrude on my private conversations? Or has the Earl already run off to London and left you so in search of amusement that you are reduced to settling for the meager entertainment of embarrassing my cousin with your eavesdropping?”

Varian’s answering smile was soft and amused. “I would never consider you a meager entertainment, Merry.”

His lips were very close to hers, the slightest move, and he might have kissed her. Merry hoped against hope that his proximity was only an accident. It had been an imprudent hope.  She noted his easy move, the feel of his breath on her chin as his kiss missed her lips and settled on the flesh beneath it. She felt his quiet laugh. “Blackberry,” he breathed against her skin. “I have wanted to do that since I spied you from across the road. Scented of roses and tasting of blackberry. Even dusted with kitten fur, you are irresistibly beautiful today.  It is a good thing you are capably guarded by Kate and Philip. Imagine the danger if I had found you alone. How the devil did you get blackberry on your chin?”

His question had been spoken in a silly tone, and his manner carried a tolerant affection. What was he about now, Merry wondered. She should leave him as his mood warned, but she feared he would follow her and trap her alone and knew this argument would be more vicious than the prior night’s and harder to protect herself in.

Arching a brow coolly, she said, “It’s a tart. If I give you one will you go away?”

“I am not in the mood for a tart. I am in the mood for my wife. What are the odds of you offering me that today?”

Her cheeks were undisciplined enough to burn, but her eyes narrowed. “You are despicable.”

He shook his head in dramatic sympathy. “If I promise to behave do you think you could suffer a moment or two alone with me? Come walk with me, Merry. Show me your Cornwall. I am in the mood to experience the beauty of nature today.”

“Experience nature by yourself. It’s bad enough I have been forced to suffer you intruding upon my private amusements.”

Varian causally reclined on his side. “You have been hiding from me since breakfast.  I suggest you walk with me, Little One. We have much we must discuss today. I doubt Kate is up to the rigors of what I want to discuss with you.”

Struggling to hold her temper in check, Merry stated primly, “There is nothing I wish to discuss with you, in private or otherwise. I want to spend the afternoon with Philip and Kate. I would appreciate your indulgence and your absence.”

Merry sat perfectly still as Varian reached out to thread one of her long black curls through his fingers. “Do you really want to force Kate through the issues we have unresolved?”

He touched the curl to his lips. Both his words and his gesture were a warning, no matter what pretty gloss he covered them in.

She slowly lifted a brow. “I see no benefit to discussing anything with you. I remember too well our last discussion. I told you I didn’t want to marry you. But the deed is done and it pleasures me not at all to be your wife. Now go away.”

There was a moment of tense silence when all the sounds around them became unnaturally loud. The hiss of wind through the grass, the jingling of harnesses in the fields, hooves against cobbles, distant mirth and chatter.  Then Varian began to laugh and his black eyes softened.

Merry’s eyes narrowed into slits of rage. “Damn you. You know your laughter annoys me and that is why you do it. How is it possible never to lose your temper.”

Varian silenced her by placing a finger across her lips. “I let my temper slip with you in London. I will regret it as long as I live,” he told her softly.  He had surprised Merry with that, but she disbelieved him and it sat in her eyes. He didn’t want to open that discussion, not now when they weren’t alone. So, instead he said, “It’s better we fight the way we usually do. With you in a temper and me charmed from beginning to end.”

She sighed heavily in frustration. “You should return to London. There is not a single reason for you to stay here.”

“I should settle one misunderstanding at the present, since it is tame enough to mention with company. I am not going to London. Not any time soon.  Stop trying to send me there unless it is your wish for us to go there together.”

“I have no intention of going anywhere with you. I will not be played with for your amusements.”

He leaned a breath into her and his fingers slowly slid through her curls to play at the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. Quietly, on a whisper that brushed her cheeks like a caress, he said, “You are a very stubborn girl, Merry, that you can think you have a choice in this. I am willing to give you time until you are ready to listen to reason. I am not willing to allow matters between to continue as they stand.”

She pulled back from his hold. “If that is all you want, Your Grace, I would like to return to the house since you seem not inclined to allow me even the enjoyment of an afternoon with my family.”

She sprang to her feet, kittens scattering. Philip’s gaze followed the quickly retreating form of his sister. He was about to push up to his feet when those black eyes stopped him with a lightly held command.

Varian arched his brow. “Whatever is running through your head, lad, let it alone and you would do us all well not to take it to your father,” he said in measured tones, full of meaning. Philip flushed. “I am sure you’ve heard a thing or two about me, and it is understandable you should be protective of your sister, but I would never do anything to harm her and I didn’t today. My conduct was merely improper. She didn’t hit me over the head with the basket. That should tell you everything you need to know not to call me out for my behavior.  Or do you think I forced your sister into whatever it is you’re imagining. It’s a complicated problem, but it’s not your problem. Don’t put your oar in it.”

Philip was unused to people reading him so easily, but then Varian Deverell was unlike any man he’d ever known. There was not a thing about Windmere that did not warn caution.

Still, Merry was his sister. “I don’t believe you’ve harmed my sister and I don’t believe you ever will. But I won’t tolerate you brow beating her, no matter how suavely you do it, into doing anything she doesn’t want to do. And I would ask that the next time you want to prove a point to my sister via flirtation, it would be advisable not to do it in front of Kate. These last months have burned Kate to cinders from the heat of her worry, guilt, and fear.”

Varian liked Philip. The boy was cautious but he spoke his mind. The boy would act wisely.

“If I hope to get past Merry’s current fury toward me in this century, I will have to settle for adding fuel to the fire any time I can find her without your father near. She’s angry with me and has good reason to be. It would be less complicated all around if Lucien would permit me to leave Bramble Hill with her or at least to share a bedroom so we could fight this out in privacy, but we don’t.”

“My father is far from giving his blessing. A dangerous condition for you. My father will not support any change in Merry’s circumstance unless she wishes it.  You wouldn’t be able to take her on as much as a day trip to Falmouth if she were unwilling, let alone get her in a bedchamber to earn her forgiveness.”

Philip had said
forgiveness
with just the right amount of disdain. Varian grinned in spite of himself.

Kate, who had sat frozen and silent, said, “I for one am glad Merry is being cautious with you.”

Much to Kate’s chagrin, Windmere laughed and playfully tugged her chin before he rose to his full height. In alarm she realized she had been left alone with this terrifying man and somehow Philip had gone after Merry without Kate being aware of this dangerous change.

Reading Kate’s thoughts to precision, Varian reassured her with a laugh, “There is no need to fear, flower. At thirty-nine I can manage only one debauchery a day. You are very safe. After all I am ancient and...” arching a brow as the pause developed playfully. “...  as pretty as you are, I am  married to Merry.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Merry came awake with a start. She had lay across her bed covered only in her shift, but somehow a quilt had been spread high over her body. As she rubbed her cheek against her pillow she wondered what had startled her from sleep. Wondered at the strange changes in her body which now pulled her into deep sleep at mercilessly frequent whim. Wondered who had come and put a blanket on her, and wondered what they had thought of finding her sprawled across her bed in mid-afternoon. Wondered what her family was making of all this, when all of a sudden a scent stopped her wondering.

Wintergreen.
Sitting up with a start, it was then she noticed the impression in the blankets next to her in the form of someone having sat with her while she slept.
Wintergreen. Touch of Varian.

Varian had been in her bedchamber. She had locked the door, but somehow he had gotten in. So the bolt on the door and the presence of her family would provide her no protection from him. He had come into her room, sat with her while she slept, and if there were a reason to it beyond him simply wanting to do so, she most probably would never discover it.

The delicate china clock beside her bed chimed eight and Merry was shocked by the lateness of the hour. It had been early afternoon when she had quarreled with Varian in the meadow. She had only meant to lay down a few moments, but her body had been exhausted by her meager activity of the day. Her slumber had slipped away into hours. Hours in a deep sleep, so deep Varian had been in the room with her, had sat close to her body, and she had not stirred.

Merry looked at the chair beside the bed and spied a delicate pale pink dressing gown draped over the back where she had carelessly tossed the mud and grass-stained poplin frock she had worn earlier. Netta had been in the room as well. Was her maid spying on her and running to babble tales to mother?

Reaching for the dressing gown, Merry realized raging hunger had replaced fatigue in her body. Nagging pangs chided her that she had missed supper.  She reached for the bell cord to summon Netta to bring her a tray. Two meals she had missed. She felt as though she had never known such hunger.

She froze, then sank down upon the chair and lightly traced across her womb. It was Varian’s child in her womb that made her so tired and hungry. Burning hot tears flooded her eyes.  It wouldn’t be long before it would be common knowledge she had a child in her belly. How ashamed her parents would be of her and how the scandalmongers would laugh at her, laugh in vicious gloating at them all. It was only a matter of time before everyone  knew the truth, knew that she’d been a willing fool in Varian’s bed before having spoken vows, and she had meant nothing to him. What would happen when they all learned she carried his child?

After she tugged the bell cord, she curled in a chair by a window and clapped her hands for pug. Lifting the dog’s face, she gave him a kiss and settled him on her lap. A night alone with only pug would do her well. Hopefully, it would clear away the unsettling feelings inside of her and grant her a moment’s piece from the endless abyss that was Varian.

Whatever else could be said about being the Duchess of Windmere it now brought immediate response when she called for the servants. A knock on the door was followed by an Abigail with a tray and two girls in tow. Thankfully, there was no Netta. Merry wasn’t in the mood to deal with sour-faced, suspicious Netta tonight. Curtsy and prompt ‘Your Grace’ proceeded an eager want of the servants to please her. Her tray was set on the table beside her, her pug collected, a fired stoked, and a lap blanket promptly laid to warm her.

Alone in her room and still enveloped in the heavy tension of the Merrick household, the night seemed endless. The walls of Merry’s bedroom closed in on her, closed in on her with flower and angel patterns.

In the pursuit of sleep she had tried everything. A warm bath, reading, hot milk, and later several hearty glasses of wine. The wine had done nothing. She was restless inside. Restless of mind. Restless of heart. Desperately restless of flesh.

Her anxiousness and discomfort beneath her blanket sent her to pace on the floor. An hour of pacing passed before she left her room. To her dismay she found herself at Varian’s door, her hair a wild cloud around her and a quilt draped over her shoulders to cover the provocative sleeping gown she had taken from the mountain of purchases Varian had made for her.

The gown was a necessity, she had told herself. It fitted her properly, as in perfection he had noted styles and subtle altering of her measurements because of his child growing within her. Delicately made it was fit for a virgin bride on her wedding night. Netta had glowered and been appalled by it.

Now at Varian’s door, she fought the urge to go in and cursed herself for her weakness. She felt a bruising need to open the door. Instead, she willed her slender feet to carry her away.

Before she knew it she was out-of-doors, the chilly night air rustling her hair and whipping against her cheeks, the stars brilliant and clear, twinkling from the velvet black of the sky and shinning her way.