Only a Duke Will Do by Tamara Gill
Chapter 16
Aknock sounded at the door, and Isolde turned to see a footman enter with the silver salver. “My lady. A missive just arrived for you.”
She took the note. “Thank you.” Breaking the seal, she recognized the writing immediately, and anticipation skittered across her skin.
Lady Isolde,
I need to see you. When can we meet?
Regards Moore
She frowned down at the note, wondering when, in fact, she could do as he asked. Over the last few days her family had cosseted her to the point that Isolde had had to lock her bedroom door just to gain some peace and quiet.
Out of love they doted on her, out of the fear that she had been injured more than she was, but it still made the attention, which was beyond suffocating, unbearable.
The clock on the mantle chimed eight, and she threw the note into the fire before heading upstairs.
“My dear, you’re not ready! We’re to attend Almack’s tonight. Did you not receive my note?”
Isolde stared at her sisters as they waltzed down the stairs; Alice’s and Victoria’s gowns were the epitome of beauty and youth. “I’m sorry, Mama, I did not.” Not that a night at Almack’s was something she wished to attend, in any case.
Not now that Merrick wished to see her. Needed to see her… “You go and have fun without me. If I should change now, I would only hold you up, and I must admit, I have a slight headache, still.” The reminder of her ordeal worked as she wished, and her mother strode over to her, feeling her forehead.
“Straight to bed, my dear. We’ll not be home until late, so do call a servant should you need a tisane. And if it worsens, please have a servant fetch us from the ball. I will return home immediately.”
“Why so late? I did not think you liked to stay overly long at Almack’s.”
Her mother adjusted her silk gloves, walking over and checking her hair in the foyer mirror. “We’ve been invited to the Marquess of Booth’s ball afterward, which I hoped to attend. Do you think you shall be well here on your own? You know I would stay if you wished it.”
“I will be well.” Isolde smiled, in part as the idea of what her night would entail popped into her mind. To be alone with Merrick once more filled her with such tumbling emotions to make her dizzy. Would they talk as they once had, long into the night and about all things that interested them? Would he look at her with such longing that she would be hard-pressed to deny him his every wish? Isolde ushered her mama toward the door. “There is no need for you to look in on me when you return. I shall be asleep, and no doubt the headache will have passed by then.”
“If you’re certain, my dear,” her mama said, a slight frown marring her normally perfect brow. Again she reached out and touched Isolde’s forehead. “You do feel a little warm…” Victoria came over and kissed Isolde’s cheek. “We shall miss you tonight, but please get some rest. We have a new wardrobe to purchase tomorrow from Madame Glasse.”
Alice squealed at the mention of the famous French dressmaker, her sister clapping her hands in excitement. Isolde inwardly cringed. The last thing on her mind was shopping, for the whole purpose was to complete her trousseau.
Unfortunately, the morning after her travels to an opium den had left her with a very vague memory and, for the life of her, she had not been able to recall what had occurred. Her brother Josh had been persistent with his questioning, as if he knew a little of what had happened but wouldn’t elaborate, wanting her to remember and fill in the gaps herself.
And it was only this morning that it had come back in full clarity. All day the thought of what she’d seen Wardoor do with the whore and the other gentleman had haunted her. Shame had washed over her that she was betrothed to such a man. That the life he currently lived was the one he would still live when married to her.
Thankfully, her brother was away from home this day and she’d not been questioned, but come the morning she would have to inform them all that the wedding would never take place and that Wardoor could go to the devil, if he wasn’t there already.
“I look forward to it,” she said, bidding them good night. Isolde waited for the front door to close before heading back to her room to change. She dressed quickly into a light muslin blue gown and black cloak, pulling the hood over her head to disguise herself.
Isolde snuck down the servants’ stairs, and not seeing anyone about, slipped through the front door and started down the street. It was only a short stroll to Merrick’s townhouse, and at this time, no one was about to see her, most of the ton already out at the many balls and parties London hosted nightly.
She came around a corner, and a slight breeze ruffled her cloak and she shivered, pulling it closer about her body for warmth. A light drizzle of rain started to fall from the moonless sky, and only the few lights off the grand homes of Mayfair lit her way.
For a time, Isolde stood a little way up the street and stared at Merrick’s Hanover Square residence, hoping to summon enough courage to visit him. She was an unmarried woman, after all, and should she be caught doing such a scandalous thing, nothing would save her reputation. A smile lifted her lips at the thought. She no longer saw such a scenario as a bad thing, but possibly her own chance for a happily ever after. After all, Merrick had invited her, stated he needed to see her, and with that thought, she took a step toward his home.
Since her adventure, she’d been lightheaded and nauseous, enough so that the family had stopped their at-homes over the last few days. Moore had sent missives requesting to see her, and she’d refused them. Not that she didn’t want to see him, for she did, but she’d simply not been well enough to see anyone.
Isolde frowned, not liking that he could’ve seen such a request as a rebuff, for it was the last of those things. That he’d helped her escape that dreadful opium den, had taken action as soon as her sister begged him to, was something for which she’d never be able to thank him enough.
Noting a couple walking toward her, Isolde turned and strode with purpose down the darkened alley that ran down the side of the home. She slipped in through a side gate and walked toward the terrace and the library doors that led out onto the flagstones.
A small glow of a candle flickered through the curtains, and light shone from the upstairs rooms. Isolde snuck up to the door and peeked in through the small gap that she found. Merrick sat at his desk, his hand busy scrawling words across parchment, and she smiled at the vision he made.
She knocked, the sound so minute that she doubted he heard it, until he paused, looking around the room. Moore turned back to his documents, seemingly dismissing the noise, and then resumed his work. Isolde knocked harder still, and this time he stood, frowning in her direction, although she doubted he could see exactly who it was disturbing his night.
Her mouth dried at the sight he made as he strolled toward the terrace doors. His shirt front hung open, showing off the hint of a formidable chest that she remembered well, his hair was down and disheveled and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a little damp. Had Merrick bathed in the last hour or so? The thought of water cascading over his body made her envious of the soap that would’ve lathered his skin, left it smelling clean and delicious…
Isolde stepped back as he made the threshold and swallowed her nerves as he pulled the curtain aside and stared at her. Shock registered on his face, then a hint of pleasure, before he opened the door, looked about outside, and quickly pulled her inside.
“What are you doing here, Isolde? I thought—are you well? I’ve been worried, having not seen you since I left you with your family.”
She smiled, shutting the door and closing the curtains to ensure privacy. “Everything is fine, I assure you.” Now that she was here. Was she brave enough to tell him she sought his company? That she wanted to come alone and thank him for what he’d done for her? Taking a deep breath, she fortified herself to be strong, to speak to him as they once had—openly and confidently. “Truth is, when I received your missive I knew I needed to see you, as well. To personally thank you for your assistance the other night. I don’t ever wish to think about what could’ve happened had you not arrived.”
“Well,” he said, “you should probably thank your sister. For had she not the inclination to find me, I don’t wish to think about what would’ve happened, either.”
His lips lifted in a teasing grin, and her stomach fluttered. “Well, sincerely, I thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome, but I must admit to being a little curious as to why you would seek out Wardoor at such a venue. Why not just confront the man about your concerns?”
She walked farther into the room and could feel him following close on her slippered heels. Her stomach was tied up in knots, and her mind raced with what to say. They had been friends once, and after all that had passed between them, it was the one thing she missed most. And now, even though he’d recently buried Leonora, had become a father again, he’d taken the time out of his busy life to save a woman with whom he was no longer affiliated.
Isolde sat and met his steady gaze. “I feel I owe you a great debt, and apology, and thanks all at the one time. Even with all the pain your family has suffered these past weeks, you rescued me from myself. For it was my fault, and I take full responsibility for my actions that night. I allowed gossip to cloud my judgment, when I simply should have asked the questions I needed answers to. I should never have gone down to the docks to find them.”
He sat beside her, and Isolde became aware of just how much Merrick was lacking in clothing and how very close he was. Her mouth dried and she fought to keep her eyes above the line of his shoulders and not devour his chest and bare lower arms.
“Above all else, there is one thing that I wish to know.” Isolde turned a little to face him.
“What? I’ll answer anything,” she said.
“Of what did you suspect Wardoor?”
Isolde looked over his shoulder, not really focusing on anything other than the hazy memories of her night of regret. What a silly little fool she’d acted and in a way that could’ve cost her life. “Before Leonora passed away, she hinted that I didn’t know Wardoor as well as I thought I did. She never mentioned anything in particular, but it was enough to make me doubt him.”
Merrick’s troubled gaze made her stomach churn. “Please tell me what you know of his life,” she asked.
He ran a hand through his hair. “It is as you feared when you went looking for him. He’s afflicted with the same demons that Leonora was.”
Isolde had seen it for herself, but hearing it spoken out loud made it real. And because of Wardoor’s affliction, she would call off another understanding. Again she would be cast into a scandal not of her making. She bit her lip to stem the threatening tears. “I’m a good person, Merrick. Why do bad things keep happening to me?”
He sighed. “I do not know. You do not deserve it.”
Isolde was quiet a moment as she fought to find the words to speak as she must. “His Lordship kissed a man and not just on his lips, but elsewhere. A place that I never imagined proper between two people. And all the while, a woman was busy with his person, too.” That Merrick didn’t seem shocked told her he’d seen it, too. “Leonora had hinted I should not worry about him having a mistress. At least I know now what she meant by that.” She paused. “What are male mistresses called, do you know?”
Merrick shut his eyes, shaking his head. “It is true what she said, but until I witnessed it for myself the other evening, I had refused to believe it.” He took her hand, and she welcomed the comfort. “I’m so sorry, Isolde.”
She shrugged, swallowing hard at his heartfelt words. Tears blurred her vision, and she fought to keep her emotions under control. “It seems I’m doomed when it comes to marriage. I feel I cannot trust anyone and have no talent for reading someone’s true nature. And on top of it all, I’m going to be crucified by the ton for breaking off another betrothal. No gentleman will think I’m capable of marriage.”
“You can trust me,” he stated, forcefully. “And I will not allow anyone to speak ill of you. This is not your fault.”
Isolde met his gaze and read the sincerity in his eyes. She wanted to believe it to her very core. She wished he stated the truth. And perhaps he did. Maybe it was a simple case that she’d been born under an unlucky star, forever doomed when it came to romance. “Can I trust you? Really?”
“Yes, you can.” His thumb rubbed against her palm, sending delightful tremors to travel up her arm. The air thickened with long-denied need. “I never meant to betray you. As for Wardoor, I’ll ensure he makes no trouble for you when word breaks of your separation.”
“Thank you, Merrick.” The sound of a servant in the foyer caught Isolde’s attention, and she remembered her other reason for calling this evening. “I know you’re in mourning and not about Town at the moment, but I came here also to see if you’re all right. Is there anything you need or that I can help you with? It’s the least I can offer, after what you did for me.”
Merrick pulled away and sat back, and the moment their contact was lost, she missed him.
“I’m hoping to close up the London home and go back to Mountshaw for the foreseeable future. The children will be better out of the city, and there is nothing to keep me here. As I’m in mourning, I cannot attend any entertainments, and I’m tired. Tired of everything, I suppose.”
She pushed away the pang of sadness that assailed her, knowing Merrick wouldn’t be at the balls and parties she would attend once the trouble with Wardoor was settled.
How she would miss him. A knock at the door made her tense, and Merrick stood, walking over to answer it. He spoke quietly to a woman before coming to sit back down.
Isolde fiddled with her cloak. “I apologize for not letting you know of my visit. I had the opportunity to slip away unnoticed and well…” She shrugged. “I took it.”
“I’m glad you did.” He gestured to the foyer. “That was my daughter’s nursemaid. Lily is being a little terror tonight and isn’t settling. She wanted to know if I wanted to check in on her while she’s awake.”
Isolde sat forward, having not seen the baby yet. “May I meet her?” She blurted the question before she’d had a chance to really think about her request. Would Merrick want her to? And the fact that she was desperate to meet the little girl made her wonder why she was so interested.
“I would love you to. Follow me. I’ll take you to her now.”
Isolde walked along with Merrick up two flights of stairs before they headed toward a room on the second floor. A door stood ajar, and the flickering candlelight bathed the passage wall in a soft yellow glow.
A maid sat on a chair, slowly rocking the crib in which the child lay. Through an adjoining door, she could see William asleep, a toy soldier clasped tight in his fisted hand. A small fire burned in the grate, and the room was filled with pretty white furniture. The windows faced west and ran almost the length of the room, making the space feel large, but homey. Isolde walked up to the crib and gazed down at a little girl who fussed with her blankets, kicking her little legs as if she were annoyed with her whereabouts. “She is beautiful, Your Grace.” Isolde ran her finger across her chubby pink cheek.
“May I hold her?”
Merrick cleared his throat. “Of course. Her name is Lily.” He picked up the baby and handed her over. Lily was the most adorable little cherub Isolde had ever met. She took in all her features, noting her perfect little eyelashes and sweet nose. “Oh Merrick. She’s just too sweet.” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them back quickly. She chuckled to hide her embarrassment. “You know I’m absurdly jealous of you. How lucky you are.”
He rubbed a hand over his daughter’s head, pushing back the little bit of hair she sported. “I know I am.” Merrick sighed, sitting down on a nearby chair. “You’re a natural with children. I always thought you would be.”
She smiled, laughing when little Lily clasped her finger and wouldn’t let go. “Well, I am the second oldest in the family, so I’ve been around a few babies in my time.” Isolde sat, holding Lily on her lap. “I cannot believe the miracle of life. How wondrous to make something so amazing.”
“She’s a good baby, considering her rough start. I did not think she would be.”
“You mean Leonora’s addiction to opium and such. Has it affected Lily at all, do you think?” The baby yawned and Isolde kissed her little cheeks, nuzzling her a little.
“I do not think so, but she can be a little unsettled some days. We’ve consulted the doctor, and he’s assured us that she’ll grow normally with a proper diet and care.”
Isolde hoped so. “She’s lucky to have you as a father.” Isolde inwardly cringed at her words, forgetting for a moment that Merrick was, in fact, not the father of this precious little girl.
He smiled, nodding. “She has my name and my love. Nothing will ever harm hers or William’s future. Nothing.”
“I’m glad for it.” The wet nurse returned, and Isolde handed the baby back before watching Merrick wish the little girl pleasant dreams. They walked back downstairs in silence before entering the library once again.
With the click of the door closing, the air in the room thickened and charged. Alone, Isolde fought the urge to go to him, wrap her arms about his neck, and kiss him to distraction. Desperately, she wanted to taste him again, to feel the hunger that fired her blood each and every time they touched. To be alive in his arms and take what she wanted, instead of waiting for things to happen, to behave and always act as a lady ought. “I should return home. I want to ensure I’m back before Mama returns from her entertainments.”
He smiled, walking toward her. “Will you come again?” His words were laced with need, and his eyes darkened with desire.
Isolde bit her lip as she thought over his question. Would she visit him again, alone? At night? Should she be caught, her reputation would be ruined, for sure. Especially, since she was about to cry off a second marriage. The prospect was more appealing than ever, but then reason pulled her back toward proper decorum.
About to tell him no, she met his intense gaze, and the words fell away unsaid. What was right, what Society expected, could go hang. “I will,” she said, unable to force her feet to move, to leave. She was playing with fire, going against the rules, and it was madness and marvelous all at the same time.
With each step that Merrick took, Isolde shuffled back. For so long he’d allowed her to slip through his fingers, to be always at arm’s length, but no longer. Under her own volition she’d come to him, not during a chance meeting at a ball or a stroll in the park, but alone, at night, and in his home. It had to mean something.
Another step, another shuffle.
“What are you doing, Merrick?”
His name on her lips was an elixir that he longed to taste. She came up against the settee, and she clasped its back, stopping herself from going over the seat. Her emerald eyes blazed with wariness, but beneath their vigilance was a weakness that he, too, fought to deny. To give in to. “Do you have any notion how much I want to kiss you?” He touched her wrist, running his finger along her cloaked arm. “Show you how much I’ve missed every ounce of your being?”
A shiver rocked her body, and he breathed deeply, not wanting to alarm her as to how close he was to madness. In time, he would win her again, but tonight wasn’t the night. They had spoken for the first time in years as friends, allowed each other back into their lives, and it was just as precious as his children who lay sleeping abovestairs.
“I know your struggles, Merrick, for they are mine, too.” Their eyes met, and he stepped against her, but there was no leaning away, no shuffling to the side. Isolde stood her ground and raised her chin, taunting him, if anything, to do as he willed.
He pushed the cloak from her shoulders, absently hearing the thump as it pooled at their feet. Her dark locks were in disarray from the cloak, and he pushed away a tendril of hair that fell over her eye. “I’ve longed for this for so long.”
She licked her lips, and need roared through him, hot and consuming. “Let me kiss you. Please,” he begged when she watched him, as calm and poised as ever. A front, for there was no doubt Isolde wanted him, just as much as he yearned for her.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he swooped down and kissed her. Hard. The long years apart, the denied thirst, crumbled any decorum, and the kiss was beyond tame. As if they had never been separated, Isolde kissed him with an intensity that left him reeling and grappling for purchase.
Time ticked by as the glide of her tongue sent his blood thrumming and met with sweet sighs and gasps. Merrick threaded his fingers through her hair, feeling it fall over his hands and against her back. He broke the kiss, taking in her disarrayed beauty that was for him only. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve missed you so much.”
She pulled him back to kiss him again, and he groaned, his hand sliding down her back to settle on her derriere, yanking her against him. He kissed away her shocked gasp, undulating against her, pushing them both toward a conflagration of pleasure. He pushed her on, teasing and tempting her to be with him like this forever.
“Merrick,” she sighed. “Stop. We have to stop.” She pushed against his chest, and, reluctantly, he stepped back, his breathing ragged as if he’d run a mile.
“I should go.” Isolde picked up her cloak and strode toward the library doors, pausing at its threshold to look at him. “I missed you as well,” she said, leaving him without another word.
A smile lifted his lips as elation bloomed through his soul for the first time in five years. Where there was passion, there was hope, and he would do anything, be anyone she wished, if it meant she was his and he was hers once more.
Forever.
It took Isolde almost a week before she was able to sneak away to see Merrick again. Her family had traveled to the theater, a play which Isolde hadn’t wanted to see, so it wasn’t hard to evade the outing.
Her sister Alice had lingered longer in the foyer, looking at her as if she suspected something, but, pulling on her gloves, had left with all the others, and Isolde walked to the mews and had their groom summon her a hackney cab.
London this evening was shrouded in rain, a relentless torrent that Isolde had thought would stop her mother from attending the theater, but the lure was too much to be foregone because of a little dampness.
The cab was summoned quickly, and it wasn’t long before the familiar streets of Mayfair passed as she made her way to Merrick’s home. She told the driver to drop her off on the side street and walked the short distance to the alley from which she entered Merrick’s yard.
Pulling her cloak close, she pushed the small metal gate open and walked toward the terrace and library doors. She stood on the flagstones, unable to knock on the door, torn between what she wanted to do and what she ought to do.
What am I doing here? Although she knew very well what she was doing. Where was the shame she ought to feel at such an escapade? That there was none was telling indeed. She had always played by the rules, but that had always ended with heartache and despair. Maybe she ought to try another way and see if the outcome would be more favorable.
The library was darker than the previous time she’d been here, and for a moment she wondered if Merrick was out, or abed already, before movement near the fire caught her attention and she spied him seated before it.
Isolde knocked, and he looked at the door, his face one of expectation. He smiled when he observed her, and all misgivings vanished into the cold night air.
Although the moment she stepped into the room she was not the least chilled; if anything, heat bloomed across her skin and sizzled with a longing she’d denied herself for too long. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
He laughed, and her stomach tightened. “My lady. You come again.”
She followed him toward the fire and sat on the little footstool he pulled out for her, one that matched his own. Only a few candles burned in the room, giving the space a seductive, romantic air. “I have.” She frowned. “But I shouldn’t have. I’m not acting as a lady should.”
He watched her, his fingers idly running across his lips. The action pulled her gaze to that part of his body, and heat pooled at her core and with it the realization that she wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to feel the passion and fire he’d wrought in her last week.
She looked back to the fire and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call sooner. It’s been a busy week. I hope William and Lily are doing well.”
He smiled at the mention of the children, and the pulsating tension between them eased a little. “They’re very well. William is looking forward to getting back to Mountshaw. Lily is putting on weight and is settling better this week.”
“I’m so glad,” she said, truly thankful the little girl hadn’t suffered for her mother’s addiction. And that William was going forward, continuing to be a happy, polite child, was a welcome reprieve. “We will miss you when you leave. I hope you’ll allow me to visit you.”
Merrick met her gaze. “I think we both know that will be impossible. You will, after all, marry one day. I hesitate to believe your new husband would wish to stay at a house where your ex-betrothed lives.”
“And if I don’t marry but visit you anyway, will you allow me to stay?” The question was more forward and telling than anything Isolde had said in years. A muscle worked on his jaw, and he looked pained. She took a fortifying breath, sick of being the perfect duke’s daughter. Always doing right by the expectations of others. She’d had her fill of it. “Merrick?” she asked when he didn’t answer.
“I don’t believe that would be wise.”
She chuckled. It wasn’t wise, and for once that’s exactly what she wanted. “Do you not want me to stay?” Disappointment stabbed sharply that he’d distance himself after their kiss. What was wrong with the man? She was all but throwing herself at his head.
He turned to her, taking her hands in his. His thumb ran over her skin, sending shivers down her spine. “May I ask you something, Isolde?”
A small frown line marred his brow, and she wanted to wipe away his concern, not let him worry about things as much as he did. “By all means. Anything.”
“Is it true that you’re willing to enter the marriage state without love or affection? That a marriage solely for the procurement of children is all you wish?”
Embarrassment washed through her that she’d wanted a marriage such as Merrick had explained. To hear the truth of her wishes out loud made them sound heartless and cold. Which, in fact, they were, but nothing out of the ordinary for others of their set. “I thought I did. Certainly, I would not be the first woman to do so.”
He cringed, and she gazed back at the fire, hating the guilt that entered his eyes. “Promise me that you’ll marry for love, Isolde. You deserve better than mediocre.”
“I…” Isolde bit her lip, unsure if she could keep such a promise. To love again meant to risk her heart. After the painful years of separation from Merrick, she wasn’t sure if she could put herself through such emotions again. “I couldn’t risk loving and losing another as much as I loved and lost you. People marry all the time for no other reason than to achieve position, beget funds, or heirs. I did not love Wardoor, and should his lifestyle have been less risqué, I would’ve married him.”
Merrick’s mouth turned up in distaste. “You would’ve allowed Wardoor to have a mistress? That once married, as long as you had children and a secure future, you would’ve given him free rein to do as he pleased?”
Anger spiked through her that Merrick would chastise her so, when her options, no matter how wealthy she was, were still confined. “What do you suggest I do, Moore? Marry for love and be heartbroken when he sleeps with someone else? When I marry, I would rather keep my heart
locked away and free from that kind of pain.”
“You cannot make all men pay for my actions. Your father made me marry Leonora for the very reasons you were willing to accept Wardoor. Let me assure you, they do not make for a happy union.”
She gaped at his words. “You broke my heart. I do not have a whole one to give to someone else.” This conversation and night were not going where Isolde had wanted. She should leave.
“You must not hold yourself back from love, Isolde. A small part of you will not let go of the hurt I caused you and because of it, you will regret any marriage in which you enter. I do not want that for you.” He paused, softening his tone when he said, “You must learn to trust again. Without it you’ll have nothing.”
“There is no one whom I love, so the point is moot. Without love, I do not need to learn to rely on that emotion.” She stood, distancing herself from him.
“And if I asked you to marry me, would you learn to love and have faith in me again?”
This conversation was not happening, and Isolde’s mind whirred with thoughts as to how to escape. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Depends on your answer.”
Nerves assailed her at the thought of Merrick being her husband. The sensations he’d always been able to raise in her were unlike anything she’d ever known, but did he mean it? And more importantly, did she want him to mean it? “My family would never allow me to marry you. Not after everything that’s happened between us.”
“Blast your family and Society. What do you want? Think ahead to when you’re alone, married, years from now, and unhappy. With a husband who cares little for your feelings, or those of your children. Will you wish that you’d chosen differently?”
She paced before the fire, unable to think straight. What Merrick said was true. She would hate a marriage of convenience. But up until a few minutes ago, that was all she could see for herself. Merrick had not voiced his desire to marry her, and she’d not allowed herself to dream, to hope that one day they could have the future they both wanted. “You cannot speak to me in such a way.”
He rounded on her, towering over her like a bear before a large morsel of meat. The breath in her lungs expelled, and she fought hard to breathe evenly.
“I want you, Isolde. I’ve wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you at that country dance, and I will want you up to the day that I take my last breath.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked quickly. “Oh, Merrick…” Her mind raced along with her heart. This was too wonderful and dreadful at the same time. How many hours had she lain awake at night, wishing he would visit her? Wishing she had stayed and fought Leonora for his hand. Wishing she had listened to his excuse that she’d come to believe as truth.
“If you do not marry me, I want you to go into whatever alliance you choose with your eyes open, because once you’re married, it is forever, Isolde. As I had to face, and accept, only too well.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, hating that the man before her was the only one she’d ever met who could rile her up and bring forth any true emotion. “I will know my future husband well enough, but I’m a modern woman, not a simpleton. I know my husband will wish to be free and do as he pleases most nights. And I will not stop him from doing so, as long as he does not stop me from having the life that I want.”
“Really,” he said, stepping closer still. “And pray, what do you mean by that?”
“Only that…that is to say…”
“Does that mean you would have an affair with another man once a golden band sits about your finger and protects you from the Society you hold so dear?”
His breath was but a whisper away from her lips, and she wanted to lean closer still and touch them to hers. Desire smoldered, just waiting for a flame to bring it to life. “You’re reading more into my words than you ought.”
He scoffed. “Do not fool yourself that freedom beckons at the signing of a marriage register.” Merrick paused, his gaze dark with intent. “I will not allow you to marry for anything other than the purest love.” His touch skimmed along her arm, and a charge of desire spiraled deep in her belly.
“And you think you can stop me?”
He threw her an amused glance, nodding. “Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“Merrick,” she said, placing a finger against his lips, “shut up and kiss me.” Isolde wrapped her arms about his neck and took control, doing it herself when he stared at her, shocked. He gasped, whether to say something or to deepen the embrace she didn’t know, but what did it matter when she was kissing the man who’d haunted her dreams for the last five years.
A heady sense of power and desire coursed through her veins, and she opened to him, kissing him with a desperate, ravenous need. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. This close she could feel his desire, and the knowledge of it only increased her own. Delicious heat pooled between her legs, and the decision reverberated in her mind that this was right. And nothing and no one was going to stop her from getting what she wanted.
Not ever again.
It took Merrick a moment to catch his breath when the woman he’d longed to taste, to hold and love, kissed him without restraint. And yet, with every delicious moment, devouring her mouth wasn’t enough. He wanted more. So much more.
The smooth glide of her gown beneath his hands tempted and teased him. His arms slid lower to caress the most sensual, perfect bottom he’d ever known a woman to have.
She moaned her acquiescence, nibbling his bottom lip and making him as hard as the statue of David. Shivers stole over him, and he pulled back to collect some perspective. “You cannot kiss me like that and marry another. I’ll not allow it.”
She clasped his face, her emerald eyes sleepy with desire. “I don’t want to talk about my fictional future husband.”
Merrick couldn’t agree more. He pulled her closer still, allowed her to feel what she was doing to him, what she made him crave. Her. Only her.
He shuffled them toward the settee, hauling her down onto his lap as he sat, while never breaking the kiss. The slide of her tongue against his left his heart thrumming a beat of need he’d only ever had with Isolde. She was everything to him, and if she’d allow it, he’d take her. Have her and be dammed the consequence. Or thank God the consequence, for marriage is what he’d demand from the action.
“Touch me, Merrick.”
The need in her voice undid him, and he growled, only too happy to do as she bid. “Where would you like to be touched, my lady?”
Isolde bit her lip, moving so she straddled his legs, shuffling up her dress a little to allow her more movement against him. “Everywhere.” She clasped his hand, pushing it up against her breast. “And anywhere.”
The breath in his lungs expired. For a moment, Merrick was unable to speak or move. She wiggled, and the slight brush of her mons against his cock awakened him from a dream he’d never thought would come to reality.
Sliding his hands down her legs, he enjoyed the smoothness of the silk beneath his palms that was rivaled by her own skin. Soft and warm, he slowly slid the gown up her legs to pool about her waist.
“You undo me.” He licked his lips, noting Isolde wore no drawers. God damn it, he would be lucky to survive the night.
“Please.”
Her plea, another wiggle against him, could not be denied. He clasped her hip, running one finger across her lower abdomen and toward the dark thatch of curls between her thighs. How he wanted to free himself from his frontfalls and slip into her hot core, to embed her on him and bring them both to climax.
She shivered above him as his hand grazed her curls, sliding slowly over her flesh, teasing and stroking as he delved further. She was so wet, hot and ready for him, he could almost feel her aching need.
“Oh my, that’s…” She clasped his jaw, lifting him up to look at her. “That feels so wonderful, Merrick.”
He slid one finger into her. So sweet and tight. He stroked her slowly, watched as her eyes glazed over with lust, her head dropping back as she enjoyed the music he played against her flesh.
Her hands splayed into his hair as her movements became more frantic, her body undulating, mimicking an act that the pliant woman in his arms had never experienced. A blessing and curse, for who would not wish Isolde to be loved, to enjoy love such as they were now.
“I want you.” The words came out raspy and breathless. “Let me have you,” he begged, unable to hold back the desires he’d harbored for so long.
She looked at him, coming down to kiss him, her hands sliding down his chest to fumble with his pant buttons. “I want you as well. So much.”
Sanity prevailed for a moment, and Merrick understood that no matter how ready Isolde was for him, such a position would not be best for her first time. He clasped her ass and flipped her to lie on the settee, settling over her.
Her fingers resumed their frantic unbuttoning, and within moments his cock sprang free and into her eager hand. She looked up at him in shock. “Oh, it’s so soft.”
He laughed and groaned when she started to play with him.
“I have a notion that I’m going to enjoy what we’re about to do,” she said, grinning like a minx. And there she was, the teasing, laughing woman he’d fallen in love with at a country dance. How he’d missed that carefree smile.
“I aim to please,” he gasped, trying to hold himself together as her untutored hand slid about him, squeezing a little.
He supported himself on his arms, watching her watch him. Her legs open to him, her breasts rising against her gown with every frantic breath. He placed her hands above her head. “Hold the armrest,” he said.
Her green gaze widened, but she did as he asked. He glided his cock against her core, running it over her swollen nubbin and aching heat. She oohed beneath him and he couldn’t stop teasing them both for a moment longer. It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman. So long since he’d had Isolde in his arms that he never wished it to end. Desperate as he was, she lifted herself to place him at her core, pushing the head of his penis into her heat.
“I want to go slow for you. The first time often hurts,” he said, fighting for breath.
She clasped his arms, her nails biting into his flesh. “Merrick, my patience is starting to wane. I will flip you onto your back in a moment and do the deed myself, if you do not hurry up.”
He grinned. How remarkable she was, and how much he had missed her. All the years that they had been apart were too long. “I will be as gentle as I can,” he promised. Merrick slowly pushed against her just as a knock sounded at the door. Isolde stilled in his arms and he swore.
“Your Grace?” Another tap, louder this time. “Lord William is awake and asking for you. He’s…” His servant paused. “Had a nightmare and wishes to see you, Your Grace.”
His gaze caught Isolde’s. “I’ll be right there,” he replied, his voice strained and harsher than he wished. Merrick took a deep calming breath before pulling away from her.
She sat up, trying to right her clothing, her eyes tinged with disappointment.
“I’ll be back. Please do not leave.”
She caught his hand as he stood, tugging him back to sit beside her. “I must leave. It’s getting late, and William needs you. I don’t want you to rush with your boy just so you can come back to me.”
He frowned, hating the thought of her leaving after what they’d been about to do. “I wouldn’t do that to him, but I also do not wish for you to go.”
She didn’t reply, only leaned up and kissed him sweetly on the lips. Fear spiked through him at the finality of the gesture. “Go, Merrick. I will see you again. I promise.”
He stood, looking back at her at the door and knowing that when he returned to the room, he would find it empty.
