Earl of Scandal (London Lords) (12 page)

But what if he sent Merissa down now and then made his own appearance later?

One look at her disordered hair and flushed cheeks, and he realized that such a plan would not serve. Merissa looked like a woman who had been tumbled, lovingly and well. Some of the more obtuse guests might not discern it, but a catty bitch like Diana surely would. And knowing that Merissa had gotten exactly what she’d unsuccessfully begged for would only sharpen Lady Fortescue’s tongue.

He tucked a tendril of hair behind Merissa’s ear, wishing for a moment that she did not have a face like a book. “I’m thinking, darling,” he reassured her. “I’ll come up with something.”

She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “How can I face them?” she whispered. “Especially Elizabeth?”

“Hush, you did nothing wrong. You were sweet. Delightful.”

“But I let you...”

“Well, I admit we came just short of consummation, but you are still a virgin. No one need ever know that I did more than kiss you.”

“Kiss?” she seemed to choke on the word. As her face flamed, he knew she was thinking of exactly how and where he had bestowed his kisses.

“I’m not sorry, Merissa. I’ve had few experiences in life as wonderful as that. It was very special. You are very special.”

She stared at him. So innocent. So trusting. It made his heart feel like a weight inside him. He could not let her bear the censure for his lack of restraint.

Briefly, he considered trying to sneak her out of the mansion. He could take her to her carriage, then come back in and get Elizabeth. Concoct a story of Merissa taking ill.

Yes, that might do. Verily, she did look fevered. Her eyes almost glazed. Her complexion heated. And he did not think even the local wags would be malicious enough to suggest improprieties of someone who had taken ill.

“I have a plan,” he announced. “But it will mean cutting short the evening. You’ll not be too disappointed, will you?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You do not think it has been memorable enough?”

He smiled at her. “I know it will long linger in my thoughts.”

A wariness appeared behind her eyes. It made his chest pain him. He wanted to pull her to his breast, to kiss and hold her and to tell her that if he were capable of love, she would be the woman he would give his to for all time.

But he did not. There was no point raising false hopes. They came from different worlds. The chasm between them was much too great. Impossible.

“I want you to pretend to be ill,” he said. “I’ll carry you downstairs and out to your coach. If anyone stops us, I’ll say you ate something that upset you.”

She frowned. “I have a very strong stomach. Elizabeth will never believe you. Besides, it seems unkind to falsely disparage the Northrups’ delicious food.”

“What do you suggest, then?” He felt rather irritated. For a while, he had forgotten how combative she could be. “We must find some excuse for you to leave early.”

“The idea of illness has possibilities, but a fever or chill would be more plausible. Elizabeth is convinced I have bad lungs.”

“A chill, then. Although, why you should come down with one in a well-heated house like this may take some explaining.”

“I caught it outside, of course,” she said. “If not on the way here; then when I went out to get some air. The butler tried to press a wrap on me, but I refused to take one.”

He nodded. “That will be our plan. I’m certain that Devon’s butler will be glad to aid us.”

“So?” she whispered breathily. “Aren’t you going to pick me up and carry me out?”

Eight

Merissa closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Christian’s strong arms supporting her. She would not think. She would not. If she did, the mood would shatter. She would shatter.

She sighed and inhaled the scent of him so close. Maleness, but mingled with another, sharper odor. Lust.

It all blurred in her mind. The moment when he seemed almost a part of her, so well did he know her desire.

The ecstasy. Welling up inside her. Roaring in her ears.

Even now she felt weak and lethargic. Easy to feign illness. She was herself no longer. Decisive, sensible Merissa—where had she gone?

That woman would never have let a man corner her in a bedchamber, raise her skirts to her waist and ravish her with his lips and tongue. The thought of it made her breathing falter and her skin catch fire. An appalling, perverse act. At least as bad as what Lady Diana had attempted to incite.

Ruined? Of course she was ruined. No man wanted an unchaste woman. The memory of her loss of innocence burned terribly in her mind.

Powerless against the strength of passion, she had not resisted. Not one tiny bit. She was weak. As lost and disgraced as Charles.

Poor Charles. Had it been like this for him? The same swift, violent descent into depravity and despair?

She had half-hated him for his failure, his moral shortcoming. Now, she discovered she was every bit as pathetic.

How could she fail to feel convulsed with shame at her actions? Surely a decent woman must be horrified by such throbbing, lurid memories.

Instead, she clung to that moment of blinding rapture, reliving it. Even now, with the arms of her seducer tight around her, she prayed that he would never let her go. She could not face that emptiness, that loss.

“Madam. Lady Caroline.” Christian spoke in a fervent whisper. “I wanted to let you know Miss Cassell has taken ill. I am conveying her to her carriage. If you would be so good as to inform her sister. “

“Good God, Christian! What have you done to her?” Her Ladyship responded in hushed, emphatic tones.

“I’m sure I don’t...”

“Nonsense, Christian. I know exactly what you’re about. You’ve seduced the poor dear and now you’re trying to cover up!”

“Well, I shall never succeed if you don’t aid me!” Christian hissed.

“Of course I’ll aid you. But tell me, what do you mean to do about this?”

“Do?”

“Really, Christian, you can’t daily with innocents and expect there to be no repercussions. What are your intentions regarding Miss Cassell?”

Merissa held her breath. It was too much to hope for. Too much...

Lady Northrup broke the endless silence. “Damn you, Christian. You’re a fool!”

A third voice intervened: “Good heavens! What’s happened?”

“Nothing so awful, Lady Wentfield.” The hostess resumed her normal gracious composure. “One of the guests has taken ill, and Lord Bedlington has offered to carry her out to the waiting chaise.”

“Dear me! Who is it?”

“Miss Cassell. Her father is rector at a nearby church. I fear it must be a fainting spell.”

“No, she’s caught a chill,” Christian announced.

“Oh, it’s one of those quaint little gapeseeds you invited.” Lady Wentfield’s voice fairly sang with relief. “I shouldn’t imagine she’ll be missed.”

Lady Northrup cleared her throat. “Really, Hortense. That remark was most ungracious. I’ll pretend I did not hear it.”

There was a choked sound, and Merissa had the satisfaction of knowing that Lady Wentfield perceived she had made a significant social blunder.

A door opened and the air felt cool on Merissa’s skin. “Cover her with a cloak, Christian!” Lady Northrup exhorted. “You’re really quite cow-handed with ladies, aren’t you?”

“Cow-handed!” Merissa’s rescuer fairly sputtered with indignation. “I’ll have you know that my favors are besought by many a maiden.”

“Maidens, Christian? I think not. It’s strumpets and actresses who desire your skills. Speaking of which, has that awful Lady Fortescue left yet? I have no recollection of inviting her. Indeed, I do not think I could have done so. She’s a dreadful bore, as well as being lewd and obnoxious.”

Merissa sought to repress a giggle. Whatever else could be said for this assemblage, she heartily liked the hostess!

“I’ll manage nicely without your help.” Christian spoke through gritted teeth.

Merissa felt herself being lifted into a carriage, propped against the plush squabs, and carefully wrapped in a carriage robe.

“I’ll get Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Northrup said. The carriage door closed. Merissa leaned back and sighed.

“Merissa?” A short while later, she heard Elizabeth’s timid voice.  Merissa blinked against the brightness of a carriage lantern. “Oh, my poor dear.” Elizabeth climbed into the vehicle and slid next to her. Before Merissa could explain that she was not really ill, her sister leaned close and said, “I can hardly blame you for finding a means to leave. The gossip was quite cruel. I tried to shut my ears, but I, too, overheard some of the remarks.”

“Remarks?” Merissa asked in a panic. “What were they saying?” If innuendoes about her and Christian were already circulating, there could be no hope of forestalling a scandal.

“It was exactly as you warned me,” Elizabeth said indignantly. “Because we’re poor nobodies, they see fit to laugh at us and criticize our clothing. So, we’re not in first stare of fashion. I thought we both looked very nice. And Lord Northrup said as much to me. What a charming gentleman! And his wife—have you ever met anyone with such elegant manners? She was the model of graciousness. She actually apologized to me as I went out.

“Can you imagine it?” Elizabeth continued. “A countess! And she begged my pardon for not offering more convivial company! I can scarce credit her consideration of our feelings.”

Merissa could stand it no longer. “It was not because my feelings were hurt that I found a means to leave. I don’t care a fig for what they say about me—those puffed up tabbies!”

“Then, what is it? I thought you were having fun?”

The wistfulness in Elizabeth’s voice tweaked Merissa’s guilt. If not for her, Elizabeth would have been able to spend more time with Richard. “It’s because... that is...”

No, she could not even hint to Elizabeth what had happened with Christian. Her sister would be shocked to the core. “The fact is, actually, I am feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Oh, poor thing!” Elizabeth reached over and felt Merissa’s forehead. “I thought certain when Lady Northrup told me not to worry, she meant that you were not ill at all, but simply using it as an excuse to leave. Goodness, you do feel hot! What could it be, I wonder? I hope not a fever. They can be so difficult to recover from, especially in the spring when it’s cold and damp. Why, Mrs. Hammond was just telling me about the Wilson girls—their coughs have hung on for months.” She tugged the lap robe up to Merissa’s chin.

Merissa sighed. Now Elizabeth was going to coddle and smother her for weeks. Was that not punishment enough for what she had done?

Hardly. Her face began to burn as the coach drove away and her thoughts returned to the scene in the bedroom. What Christian had done to her was obscene, depraved, and yet, she had enjoyed every delicious moment!

Charles’ disgrace again came to mind. Was there some taint of moral corruption in the Cassell blood? But, no, Elizabeth and her father did not suffer from such base weakness. It was only Charles and she who possessed the affliction.

Merissa’s tears pricked her closed eyelids. All this time, she’d blamed Charles for being weak, but she was every bit as sinful and wicked as he. Why, if anyone had discovered Christian and her in the bedroom, her reputation would have been ruined, and along with it, her sister’s and father’s good names. How could she have been so selfish?

“There, there.” Elizabeth patted her arm. “We’ll be home soon, and you can climb into a nice warm bed and rest.”

Merissa swallowed a sob. Elizabeth was right. She must learn not to be so impulsive. From now on, she would be a model of restraint and decorum. What had happened with Christian could never happen again. She would not allow it. Indeed, she must refuse to ever be alone with him in the future.

What makes you think you’ll ever see him again anyway? He’s had his pleasure, won his conquest. Why should he bother with a “little countrified nobody” now that he’s had his fun?

The ugly, mocking thoughts echoed in Merissa’s head, and she gritted her teeth to keep from moaning aloud. Oh, fie, fie on her! Bad enough that she gave in to temptation, but it had to be with a man like Christian Faraday. A man who could charm the very angels out of heaven if he wished it. A man who could have any woman he wanted.

She was nothing to him. A few days’ diversion. Soon, he would go back to his glittering life in London. It was doubtful he would give her another thought after this night.

When the coach stopped and the burly Northrup footman reached in to help her out, Merissa did not demur when Elizabeth insisted that the servant carry her into the house. A broken heart could be as prostrating as any fever.

~ ~ ~

“Christian Faraday, what have you done?” Caroline closed the drawing room door and approached Christian, her green eyes narrowed like a cat’s. “You promised you wouldn’t take advantage of Merissa Cassell. You said you were trying to reform!”

“I am trying!” Christian put down his brandy and rose to his feet. “The fact is, I didn’t deflower her. And I took great pains to see that no one knew we were alone together. Her reputation is intact.”

“But what of her heart, Christian? Are you going to tell me that you did not lead her to believe you cared more for her than you do?”

“Yes... I mean, no... I mean... I do care for her. She’s a beautiful, sweet young woman and I would never want to hurt her.” Christian ran his hand through his hair and glanced imploringly at Devon. His friend raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“It’s not as simple as that,” Caroline continued angrily. “You can’t dance and flirt and take liberties with an innocent, and not think about the consequences. Merissa Cassell is not some jaded London miss who’s used to being fussed over. If you’ve done anything more than kiss her, she’s probably expecting you to propose marriage. And, by rights, you probably should.”

“Gads, no!” Christian exclaimed. “I mean, I’m certain Merissa would make a lovely wife, but I’ve vowed never to marry. It wouldn’t be fair to the woman—I’d make a terrible husband.” He looked to Devon for confirmation. Devon raised his brows again.