Earl of Scandal (London Lords) (7 page)

“I’m not a saint,” he answered, “but it does not necessarily have anything to do with my being a lord. I think all men struggle to live worthy lives.”

“And noblemen struggle hardest of all!”

He was silent, and she wondered if he agreed with her. The thought that he might unsettled her. She wanted to hate him, not have him appear contrite!

They moved through the darkened stables, finally coming to the stalls where the mares were. Merissa approached eagerly. She’d visited the beautiful animals several times a day since Mr. Faraday left. Who could resist such magnificent horseflesh?

Jezebel nickered and turned her head as Merissa entered the stall. “Sorry, love, but I don’t have apples this time,” Merissa whispered as she stroked the mare’s silky neck.

“Did anyone give you leave to offer my horses treats, Miss Cassell?”

Merissa whirled. “I’m sorry. That is, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Mr. Faraday chuckled. “Of course, I don’t mind. Actually, I’m pleased that you took the time to pamper them. In my stables, they have been quite spoiled.”

A soft mew sounded. Merissa looked down to see Blackie rubbing contentedly against Mr. Faraday’s legs. “This subornation of affections appears to go both ways,” she said. “I’ve never seen Blackie appear so fond of a stranger.”

“Actually, we’re not strangers at all. The little beast attempted to sleep with me the night I stayed here.”

“I daresay he was simply drawn to the warmth of your body.”

“I daresay. Or, it could be that he is used to sleeping with someone else in that room, the mysterious Charles perhaps?”

Faraday’s light words made Merissa’s throat constrict. Blackie had originally been her brother’s cat, and the animal had habitually shared his bed. The reminder brought on a sharp, aching emptiness. She closed her eyes, fighting tears.

When she opened them, Christian watched her with concern. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s obvious that the mention of Charles distresses both you and your sister. I won’t bring up the matter again.”

Merissa quickly turned her attention back to the horses. “They truly are beautiful creatures. And so spirited. I imagine they must be as fast as the wind.”

“They’re real goers, they are. Would you like to take a whirl and see for yourself?”

Merissa turned to face him. “Oh, could I?”

“I don’t see why not. I have to hitch them up to take them back to Darton Park anyway. I’ll go find William, the groom who accompanied me here, and set him to the task.”

Five

Merissa waited as Christian found the servant who led the mares outside. Bob joined them in the task of hitching them to the phaeton. In a short while, Merissa found herself bundled in a carriage robe as she and Christian traveled down the lane, the carriage drawn by the silky-gaited grays.

“We have to go easy at first, until they warm up a bit,” Christian said. “I paid five hundred pounds for each of them, and I wouldn’t want to ruin my investment with imprudent driving.’

“Five hundred pounds!” Merissa gasped. “But that’s a fortune.”

Faraday gave her a smug look. “But well worth it, as you’ll see when we get going. With this team, I’ll wager I could beat near anyone, at least in a short race.”

“Is that how you spend your idle time, Mr. Faraday? Horse racing?”

“And wagering,” he answered. “I’ll win a fair sum with this team.”

“That’s appalling!”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no purpose to it. It accomplishes nothing worthwhile.”

“It passes the time. And amuses me.”

“Exactly what I said! It’s a waste of money and horseflesh. To think such a large sum should he squandered for the sake of your pleasure. Why, there are many people who do not get enough to eat or who toil in factories under hopeless conditions. It’s disgraceful!”

He shrugged. “I never said that life was fair. Why should I deny myself because misfortune and suffering exist in the world?”

Merissa bit her lip. How could she explain the falsity of his outlook? Most people would agree with his reasoning, and consider her ideas provincial and uninformed.

But the memory of Charles’ circumstances forced her to respond. “It seems to me that the true satisfactions in life do not come from hedonistic pursuits. Do you truly want it said when you’ve died that ‘here lies a man who spent his life pursuing amusement’?”

That was exactly the sort of end he feared, Christian thought uneasily. But he didn’t want to admit it aloud, especially to this sharp-tongued miss. “There is something to be said for enjoying yourself,” he argued. “Here, let me show you.”

He urged the grays into a trot, then gave them their heads. The well-sprung vehicle swept forward, bearing them down the road as if the horses had wings.

“Oh, my!” Merissa cried as the wind caught her hat and nearly tore it off her head. At the last minute, the ribbons caught at her throat and prevented it from sailing away. She adjusted it more securely, then clutched tight to his coat sleeve. “We’re going too fast,” she gasped. “I don’t want to end up in the ditch!”

He glanced over at her flushed face and the wind-whipped curls tumbling over her shoulders. How lovely she was, like a beautiful thoroughbred. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Are you joking? After the way you wrecked your carriage the other night?”

He laughed. Even if they did end up in the ditch, it would be well worth it. Merissa’s excitement intoxicated him, reminding him of the first time he handled a rig and pair by himself. He had felt so free and full of life.

Ah, he thought, nothing could be finer than to race down a country lane with the wind whipping through his hair and a beautiful, wild-haired maiden beside him. His usual bored, cynical mood had completely vanished.

But when the grays showed signs of tiring, he pulled up. Giving in to the madness of the moment was one thing, but he wasn’t about to risk damaging such exquisite horseflesh for a few seconds of excitement.

He glanced at Merissa, and she beamed back at him. The picture she made took his breath away. Riotous curls, luminous skin, lush lips... She aroused the image of a wood nymph. He wanted to carry her off to the nearest copse and make love to her. Surely if he did, the woodlands surrounding them would turn to spring, the brown pastureland bursting into bloom with fragrant flowers and grasses.

“Persephone,” he whispered, “where you are, it is always summer.”

She gazed at him breathlessly, blue eyes wide behind her spectacles. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He laughed and reached out and gently removed her silver spectacles. Her eyes were even larger and more magical than he had imagined. A shimmering, almost silver blue. “My God, you’re lovely,” he said.

She stared at him as if she were as mesmerized by him as he was by her. With the faintest of sighs, he leaned forward, and allowed his lips to lightly touch hers.

So sweet. A flower opening itself to the sun.

He raised his hands to the sides of her face and cupped her delicate chin, deepening the kiss. She trembled slightly and then parted her lips to his probing tongue. He drowned, reveling in the taste and feel of her. His fingers tangled in her billowing curls, releasing the crisp scent of lavender and the headier fragrance of Merissa herself.

She smelled as a wood nymph should, fresh and wild, intangible. His breathing came fast. He struggled to keep his desire in check. His burgeoning erection pressed painfully against his breeches, and he felt the controlled, detached part of himself being wrenched away, leaving a seeking, helpless hunger. His fingers fell away from her hair and trailed’ down the smooth column of her neck, then fumbled with the fastening of her heavy cloak. He longed to discover the beguiling promise of her lithe, graceful body.

The cloak came open. Stout fabric still muffled his caress, but he could feel the contours of her breasts. Soft and rounded with high nipples which peaked against his searching fingers. She moaned into his mouth, and he moved closer to her, molding her slender form against his heated, eager body. She arched to meet him, as instinctively hungry as he was.

As his mouth tasted and his fingers reveled, in the part of his brain still capable of rational thought, Christian could not help but consider the awkwardness of their situation. They were in an open carriage, and as isolated as this place seemed to be, it was very indelicate to handle a lady in plain view of any passerby.

And she was a lady, he reminded himself. And, moreover, a virgin. And a clergyman’s daughter.

Gads, he was doing exactly what he’d sworn he would not do!

He disengaged himself and pulled away. As she stared at him, eyes still dreamy and unfocused, he arranged her cloak over her shoulders and attempted with shaking fingers to fasten the frog. “Merissa,” he said, “we must not.”

The spell shattered. Her plump mouth, still wet from his kisses, shaped a startled “o”, then let loose with an angry torrent. “You beast! You disgusting lecher! How dare you try to kiss me! How dare, you!”

Her body trembled with the force of her outrage and her blue eyes flashed fire. Christian released a sigh of regret. What a woman she was. And how delightful it would be to experience her passionate nature in a different way.

“You bastard!” she cried. “You’re smiling! You’re laughing at me!”

“No, no, never that.” He wanted to comfort her; reassure her. But he dare not. If he touched her now, he would truly be lost. He would not stop until he made her his—and the rest of the world be damned!

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Frighten! You think I was frightened? Why, you conceited, arrogant swine!” Her slender hand landed a slap on his cheek, punctuating her furious words.

Christian drew back, feeling a twinge of irritation. Why did he always end up in the wrong in these things? Merissa was not the first woman to punish him for her own lapse of control, nor even the most violent. But, frankly, he was a bit tired of the scapegoat role, and he could not resist fighting back a bit. “Hear now. It’s not as if I ravished you. Indeed, I don’t recall any resistance on your part.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Christian immediately regretted his words. It would have been wiser to endure her abuse and let her wear out her anger.

She drew back, so white with rage that her freckles stood out in sharp relief. “A true gentleman would never have tried to take such liberties,” she spat. “I can only presume that you are an unprincipled rogue who sees fit to prey on naive country girls who scarcely know what you’re about.”

Christian hesitated, then decided to fall back on his usual jaded pose. He shrugged carelessly. “That’s probably true. Which is why you should not go gallivanting about without an escort. I’m appalled that your father does not see fit to better guard your reputation.”

She blinked in surprise. “Then you admit it? You admit that you are an unprincipled rogue?”

He shrugged once more. “Since you are not the first person to make that observation, I must concede there is some validity to it.”

“You admit you are a devil, and show no remorse! Why, that is worse!”

Christian fought the tweak of his conscience, which reminded him that he’d vowed to leave the selfish, careless life behind. But he’d groveled enough before this difficult woman. Why should he care a fig what she thought of him?

He raised his hands in a show of nonchalance. “Fair warning to you, Miss Cassell. I fear I’m as much a scoundrel as you think.”

A stricken look crossed her lovely face, and Christian immediately regretted his cynical words. He should tell her the truth, that he had not planned to seduce her, but her pristine, magical beauty had made him lose his head.

“Perhaps we should start back now, sir,” she told him in a cold, even voice. “Surely it is unseemly for us to be alone together this long.” She replaced her spectacles, then faced straight ahead.

He nodded and took the reins. Gone was the mood of enchantment that had made him imagine the woman beside him as a goddess of summer. The promise of warmth and magic had vanished with Merissa’s exuberant excitement, and he felt the loss like a cold weight on his heart.

Damn, but he needed a brandy! For that matter, he longed for all the comforts of civilized life. He smothered a groan, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merissa give him a curious look.

Baggage! It was her fault that he had strayed so far from his element. Now he was doomed to a polite, boring dinner in the company of her saintly sister and absentminded father. And all the while, he’d remembered the feel of her breasts beneath the sensible serge gown, the delectable taste of her mouth, the perfume of her skin...

Lud! It was too much! He couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t.

They pulled into the yard, and Christian brought the curricle to a halt by the barn. Neither of them spoke as he helped Merissa down.

“Well, I think I’ll find William and be off then,” he said. “Give my regards to Elizabeth. And to your father, of course.”

Merissa looked startled. “What about dinner? Elizabeth invited you.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” He smiled tightly. “I must be getting back. I’m sure it will be a relief for you to be relieved of my noxious presence.”

Her face fell, and she suddenly looked more like a lost little girl than the furious harridan who had challenged him earlier.

Christian winced at his own coldness. Poor little chit. Now that her passionate temper was spent, she was clearly feeling blue-deviled. He could read the emotions on her face like a book.

He repressed a sigh. How he would miss her charming naiveté. Not to mention her radiant smile. Her shocking language. And even her shrewish temper.

Fact was, everything about Merissa Cassell fascinated him. A pity he had decided to decline the dinner invitation.

But it was better this way, he thought as he went off seeking William. Less torture for both of them.

Given that a future together was impossible, it really was nobler of him to end things now.

Noble? Christian Faraday? Not a role he usually assumed. He left great and generous acts for men like Devon Langley. It was completely out of character for him. But wasn’t that what he was trying to do—become a better person? To pursue a more admirable existence?