The Outcast Earl (20 page)

“It’s all right then, my dear.” Betsy patted her knee, much as she had done when Abigail was a mere slip of a girl. “There was no one to see but me and that man who’s claiming the relationship of husband soon enough. To be frank, holding a woman as she cries is one of the few things a husband is useful for. Grady could clearly hear you sobbing, but there had hardly been time for the two of you to have had some sort of altercation in the few seconds you must have been behind us. It was perfectly proper for Meriden to pause and tend to you, and just as well as the doors were open.”

Meriden approached on silent feet and took his own cup of tea. Abigail ignored his brooding and watched Betsy sip her brew, then murmured, “I can hardly believe anyone here at Meriden Park would even bother to lift an eyebrow, even if we’d been private. It’s not like London, Aunt Betsy. The groom who accompanied me this afternoon on my ride is already calling me ‘yr ladyship’.”

“They’ve been waiting for years for someone to smile upon them with the graciousness of a queen,” Meriden grumbled. “And they take their cue from both Grady and Mrs Carlton, who have quite properly treated Abigail as if she were mistress here from the first day.”

Abigail gave a small smile, wondering if Meriden was perhaps jealous of her reception, or resenting the upcoming loss of some aspect of household management.

But it was Betsy who said decidedly what Abigail was thinking. “They are taking their cue from you, Meriden. The housekeeper even said to me this morning, ‘Now, my lady, his lordship says I am to make everything just how you and his ladyship want it next week, and it only seems sensible to start out as I mean to go on.’”

“We have not actually discussed what aspects of the house and the estate Meriden desires me to oversee,” Abigail said more cautiously. “Meriden, I suppose that we ought to sit down soon and you can share with me your wishes and expectations.”

“An excellent plan, my dear.” Meriden met her glance for a half a second, then set aside his glass even as Betsy put aside her own and gathered herself. “Do you wish to go up, ma’am?” he inquired kindly.

“I think so. It’s best not to overtire myself,” Betsy said bravely, but Abigail could see she was nearly exhausted. Hurrying to the fireplace, Abigail pulled the bell. Meriden did not wait. He simply went and lifted the elderly lady into his arms. As he turned, Abigail went herself to the doors and flung them open, even as Grady hurried towards them.

Meriden carried Aunt Betsy upstairs immediately, as Abigail asked for Mary to be sent up to help the exhausted lady. And then she remembered, and added, “I am going up too, but I’ll call for Annie when I want her.”

“Of course, my lady,” Grady bowed. With her mind on their conversation, Abigail saw at once that his bow was of the absolutely correct form for a countess already wed, and not for an earl’s daughter. Her lips quirked. She supposed he had been doing it all along, but so often in the train of her mother and sisters when out of their own house, and bowed to in conjunction with her mother, she had not noticed.

“I’m just an earl’s daughter,” she chided softly, then smiled as Grady looked at her, startled. “Even if I was already married to your master, Grady, there is no need to be any more formal with me than there is with him,” she went on briskly, turning to start up the stairs. “I daresay I hope that I’m young and foolish enough that you’ll feel obliged to warn me when Meriden is in a terrible temper, or if I’m about to engage upon something of which he would most sincerely disapprove, much as you would reprove him when he’s not up to snuff. You will, won’t you, knowing I’ll take it as the kind advice it’s meant to be, and consider myself warned even if I don’t follow it?”

Grady’s face, while still perfectly poised, nonetheless changed. “As you wish, madam.”

“Thank you, Grady. I knew I could count on your support.”

“Without hesitation, madam.”

Abigail left him then, pondering over what she might say to set Mrs Carlton at ease as well.

She was unsurprised to find Meriden lurking in the shadows at the top of the stairs.

“What took you so long?” he grumped brusquely, stepping into the lamplight and taking both her hands in his.

Abigail flushed and shook her head. “I should stay with Betsy until Mary comes—”

“She’s already there.”

“I should—”

“I should
think
,” Meriden broke in fiercely, “that you realise any expectation you might have of going blithely off to your room until joining me for breakfast is hardly worth the imagination required to concoct it.”

Abigail could not think of what to say.

“All in all, it’s been a most enlightening day,” Meriden went on, drawing her out of the corridor and into the dimly lit sitting area. The drapes were again pulled back from the great bay of windows that overlooked the forecourt, and, in the clear night, both moon and stars penetrated the panes and cast a glow over Meriden and the room around him.

“Has it?” Abigail asked, faintly.

“Hm. I didn’t expect it to be, though, and not all of my discoveries were to my liking. First off, I discovered in the middle of the night that my bed is warmer and more comfortable when you share it. A most unnerving discovery, as it happens, since you were already asleep. And overdressed. And elsewhere.”

Abigail blushed so vividly that she was certain he could see it, even in the dim light.

“Some hours later, I discover my bride on a horse that is clearly too big for her, despite its amiable temperament. Sadly, it’s my own damn fault for not having a proper horse on hand for her, thus forcing my head stableman to make a most difficult decision on the matter while I was not at hand. Biting my tongue and refraining from doing what I most wished to do to resolve the matter required more restraint than has been required of me since I left Spain.”

A long pause ensued, but eventually Abigail asked breathlessly, staring at his cravat, “Wh-what did you wish to do?”

“I should have plucked you right off that saddle and put you in front of me where I could keep my eyes and hands on you,” Meriden answered promptly, then leant forwards so that their foreheads touched. “Instead, in a desperate attempt to distract myself, I foolishly spoke without thinking, and on a topic that we had no need to broach now or in the foreseeable future.”

Startled by that assessment, Abigail looked up. “No,” she said, “I disagree. We most certainly did need to talk of it.” She frowned at him. “Just not then or there.”

“Precisely. But being in a temper, I’ve discovered today, means I do not always behave or speak as I ought. For, despite my pledge not to humiliate you or our children by the same means that Patrick’s former earl did, I chose to pursue a different, but no less foolhardy, exhibition in full view of any servant who might have happened by. For that, I unequivocally apologise.”

Abigail nodded, and Meriden kissed her forehead.

“The next enlightening moment came when I realised I will happily spend my evenings very privately, with just you. I have determined that I no longer desire a dinner tray alone in the library, nor a dining room full of chattering souls. When we dine alone, and I mean for it to be frequently, I shall want you very close by, not at the other end of a great room, and I shall definitely wish for Grady and the others to remove themselves and not be whisking in and out.”

Shy pleasure caused Abigail to smile a bit, but Meriden barely paused for breath.

“And then you dared to tease me, knowing the time and place prevented me from reacting. I won’t forget that anytime soon, you know. And then, in the drawing room,” he continued, looking quite solemn, “you cried. I have never held a woman as she cried before, and I cannot see myself repeating the experience with anyone other than you, unless our daughters are in distress. I alternated between an awful rage that I hadn’t protected you from all of your worry and hurt, and an equally horrifying delight that you trusted me to comfort you.”

Abigail bit her lip and chewed on it a bit, while Meriden watched her, then cleared his throat. “And you, Abby-heart, learnt that I can be as unintelligent as an ass.”

She couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s my girl.” The quiet words were accompanied by the brush of his lips against her brow.

“I didn’t know men could be so articulate,” she said, as the quiet of the house began to stretch around them into silence. “You’re setting yourself up as too good an example. Should you revert to being one of those brooding, impolite, possibly dangerously violent men—you know, the ones of which you’re supposedly an archetype—I’m likely to get frustrated and do something provoking.”

“Never fear, I know just how to manage your charming provocations, sweet,” he promised. “Don’t underestimate me. I am quite dangerous, and there are reasons for that reputation. Still, even at my most dangerous, you have nothing to fear from me, Abby-heart.”

“No one has ever called me Abby before.” Abigail looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dim light of the room.

She watched something twitch in his face as Meriden’s entire body stiffened. “Not even as a child?” he asked softly.

“No, not then. I was always
Lady Abigail
, even as young as I can remember. It was the same with my sisters. We did not know that we could name each other something else. I had Lady Fiona and Lady Gloria as my playmates. We took Latin in the mornings, walked in Hyde Park with our nurses after lunch and had our tea parties in the afternoon.”

Abigail found herself suddenly, almost violently, dragged into his arms. He breathed heavily against the top of her head. “Children deserve more…more of a
childhood
than that. Even little girls.”

Abigail did not think it had been a bad childhood, but she said, “Someday, perhaps, we’ll have a reason to discuss that subject on a daily basis.”

Meriden digested the meaning of her words, and tension straightened his body. Abigail’s nerves tightened and she blew out a small breath as the evidence of his arousal brushed against her through their clothing. “I can hardly wait to see you with a little brown-headed moppet grasping onto your skirts and your stomach swollen with my child,” he said, the words almost harsh in the gloom. He lowered his voice even more when he went on. “For tonight, I’m going to take you back to
our
chamber and give you the proper spanking I should have two nights ago, then I’m going to pleasure you into oblivion again. Afterwards you’ll be too limp to walk, so I will put you in
our
bed and spend the rest of the night with you in my arms, where you damn well belong. And let us both pray to whatever god is listening that I am strong enough to keep out of your sweet heaven before your body is ready for it. I have no desire to damage the very precious gift I have in my arms, and I want you so much that I’m afraid it’s going to be hard for me to keep my baser needs at bay. I am afraid I can be a rough bastard.”

Abigail gasped—she couldn’t help it. But Meriden went on, ruthlessly now. He was holding her loosely against him, but Abigail knew that appearances were deceiving. If she tried to break away, he would simply pull her closer and tighter against him. “And you will stay there all night, Abby-heart, and not try to escape down the hall while you think I am sleeping. In the morning, you can slip on my dressing robe and call Annie and have her bring fresh clothes and hot water to your apartment, which is precisely its function anyway. There will be no more hiding from me. Do you understand?”

Abigail was shaking. What could she say to that declaration of intent? The angles of his face, limned in the moonlight, were frightening and stark, and the husky, rough edge to his voice had become lower and more predatory as he’d gone on.

She’d heard the words, of course, but she’d listened, too. She’d not said so, but her enlightenment that day had been more subtle than his litany of unexpected revelations. Abigail had learnt to look for the reasons behind his words, his temper and his unfortunate habit of ordering her around.

This time, Abigail heard the vulnerability laced beneath his arrogance, the clawing desire to have her within his purview that was driving his words. She heard that he was attempting not to crush her spirits or her body, but to treasure her in his own, admittedly unusual way. Charles was turning out to be a bewilderingly deep, complex man.

Her voice was warm and gentle when she answered, “You’re not
ever
a rough bastard, Charles. Don’t say it. A conquering warrior, yes, with a lust for victory and the spoils of war, and the cost of it seared into your body and soul. At times, a warlord set to defend your keep and clan no matter the cost. A princeling, too, in search of a kingdom to nurture and defend, and an orphan in need of a family that will nurture and defend you. Don’t ever belittle those things that make you so much of a man again. Please.”

With that, Abigail lifted her hands to his face and touched her lips to his, and gave herself up to the shocked, fierce embrace he returned.

When his mouth eventually left hers, it was to lift her into his arms. “I can walk,” Abigail murmured against his cheek. “I’m not injured, or running from you.”

His chest contracted where her breasts were tipped against it. “It’s my privilege to cart you off. The spoils of war, you see.”

“Oh, is that what this is, then?” She laughed huskily, her lips brushing his neck, the taste of his skin on her lips reassuring and arousing.

“Yes, and I know just what to do with the beautiful young princess I’ve captured,” he said after a moment, juggling her enough to kick open the doors at the end of the corridor. He carried her through the room, depositing her carefully in the large armchair by the fireplace. Abigail looked on, content to observe as Meriden lit the fire set in the grate. With a secret smile, she noted a wide chaise of dark green velvet now graced the space across from the chair, with an artful basket of blankets and shawls at its far end.

Abigail had no doubts how that had come to be.

Meriden stood and stepped back. His gaze fell to her, and her smile drained away as he gazed intently down her form. “Stay in that chair,” he ordered briefly, then turned away.