Patricia Rice (8 page)

“There has been a misunderstanding, Lady Matilda. Cassandra
is fine. The key seems to have fallen into the bushes. I trust the butler keeps
an extra set.” Merrick turned his glare on Cassandra, who responded woodenly to
his unspoken demand.

“I am fine, Aunt Matilda. The wind blew the door shut, that
is all. Merrick has been everything that is proper.”

That was a bouncer that wouldn’t pass the first inspection,
but for quick thinking, it would have to do. Merrick took a deep breath and
walked to the open window. His loins still ached, but he tried not to think. He
had been successfully using that ploy since he was a youth and the victim of
his mother’s scathing tongue. It was remarkable how many situations one could survive
without thinking.

“You had better do something with your hair,” he warned
without turning to look at the forlorn creature in the bed. He knew the
abandoned disarray of red-gold hair falling in wanton tendrils that would meet
the gaze of the curiosity-seekers outside the door.

Cassandra obediently began stabbing pins through thick
curls. She had, after all, promised him obedience.

When the key finally scraped in the lock, Merrick almost had
himself in control. He reluctantly turned to face the condemnation of his
peers. Too late, he discovered Cassandra’s mermaid stance in the middle of the
bed, her arms raised to her lovely tresses, her satin robe sliding loose to
reveal the bodice of her thin gown. He groaned and felt the surge of heat in
his loins return as the door flew open.

Tiny, stooped, gray-haired Aunt Matilda entered first. No
emotion was visible from behind her thick spectacles, but Merrick rather
expected they concealed resignation. Cassandra was, after all, a Howard, and
Lady Matilda had no very high opinion of her niece’s family.

Her gaze swerved to him, and Wyatt impassively bore her
regard. Behind her peered all the guests that he had once considered friends.

“Wyatt!” His fiancée’s shriek cut the silence, followed by a
low moan as Catherine discovered Cassandra’s scandalous position.

Her moan was followed by the inevitable faint. Wyatt watched
callously as one of the other male guests caught her up in his arms and carried
her off. Randolph had need of a rich heiress. They would suit each other fine.

Their host pushed his way through the crowd, gave Merrick a
shocked look, then, murmuring something about “simple explanations,” ushered
the sightseers away, leaving Lady Matilda to hear their story alone.

Wyatt made a polite bow. “My apologies, my lady. This was
all a simple misunderstanding, but of course I am sensible of the damage done
to your great-niece’s reputation. I will repair at once to London to seek Lady
Cassandra’s hand from Lord Eddings. I trust you will find it in your heart to
forgive what must appear to be an unseemly situation.”

Matilda sniffed, lifting her haughty nose in the air to
shift her spectacles up. Merrick was aware that his cravat was mussed and his
hair disheveled, and her knowing look almost caused him shame. Almost.

“Balderdash, Merrick. I know an unseemly situation when I
see one, and this one is beyond unseemly. As much as I hate to admit it, I must
assume you are the injured party, however.”

She cast a look to Cassandra, who—now that the guests had
departed—had finally returned her feet to the floor. Matilda sniffed at
Cassandra’s still-stunned expression, then returned her gaze to the earl. “However,
you are old enough to know better, Merrick. I suggest you leave tonight, before
that shrewish fiancée of yours decides hysterics are in order.”

“That would be cowardly, my lady,” Wyatt murmured, although
he heartily wished he could take the coward’s way out. He knew Catherine of
old. One of her temper tantrums was not a pretty sight. “I must apologize and
make my explanations to the lady. I think it would be best if I escorted you
and Lady Cassandra back to London in the morning.”

Matilda snorted. “Let Cassandra pay the price of this
escapade. She has been given entirely too much freedom in the past. It is time
she faces the consequences of her rash actions. She will apologize to
Catherine. You will write her a brief note of explanation and tell her you will
understand if she calls the engagement off. You will be in a ticklish situation
until she does, but it’s no matter. She’ll come around. Just don’t let that
young Howard wastrel rob you of more than is proper. He will only gamble it
away.”

Merrick was unable to find a respectful manner in which to
argue with the elderly lady. He lifted his gaze to Cassandra’s bewildered
beauty, and felt a sharp ache of desire at the thought of possessing such a
fiery creature. He ought to be ashamed of himself, but he only felt triumph, as
if his life of respectability had finally been rewarded.

Approaching Cassandra, Wyatt took her cold hand and bowed
formally over it before gazing into the depths of her iridescent eyes. He had
thought them blue, but now he saw they contained all the aquas and greens and
midnight colors of the ocean.

“I will come to call as soon as you return to town, my lady.
There are a number of things we will need to discuss.”

“I’m sorry, Merrick,” she whispered brokenly.

“I’m not,” he heard himself saying, to his own horror. She
was a lying, conniving, scheming little witch who would make his life hell. And
the thought of her in his bed made his blood race. He had married for all the
right reasons the first time and found no happiness. Why not marry for all the
wrong reasons and at least obtain some small measure of pleasure?

Cassandra offered him a startled look before lowering her
lashes. Merrick imagined he’d given her something to think about in the days to
come. He had no idea if she was a virgin or not, and to his own surprise he
really did not care.

Feeling much as if he had just gained wings and been caught
in a hurricane wind, Merrick bowed and left the ladies alone. He needed time to
learn the vagaries of this wind that carried him. He suspected Cassandra needed
time to acquaint herself with the ball and chain she had just acquired. He
envisioned troubled days ahead, but the nights...

Remembering those impassioned kisses, Merrick admitted the
nights would be worth every bit of trouble she had caused. If he could keep her
to himself.

Duncan Howard looked liked death warmed over, Merrick
observed as he entered the study of the marquess’s home the next afternoon.
Duncan was a year or two younger than himself. They had more or less grown up together
until Merrick had inherited his estate at the age of twelve.

Duncan had gone the idle way of his titled peers who had
naught to do but wait for their fathers to pass on. Merrick had taken up the
reins of an estate so large he had not known the boundaries or extent of it
until he was nearly twenty.

Not that the difference in their paths hadn’t been a
foregone conclusion from the first, Merrick wryly admitted. His rigid,
religious antecedents were exact opposites of the wayward Howard ancestors, as
if living next to each other through the centuries had driven neighbors to
opposite extremes.

Duncan scowled and offered no hand in greeting as Merrick
approached. “What is your complaint today that you must hunt me down in town?
Has another damned tree fallen on your turnip crop? Surely I have no tenants
left to poach your land?”

“I am not here to discuss our estates, Eddings, not in the
matter of land, leastways. Am I allowed to sit or must I stand on formality?”

Not looking completely mollified, Duncan took a seat behind
his desk and indicated a chair. Merrick noted the new marquess did not look
entirely comfortable in this position of authority, as if he had tried on his
father’s shoes and found they did not quite fit. He had the puffy eyes of a
confirmed roué and the sulky mouth of a spoiled child. Beyond that, he was as
handsome as his sister was lovely.

Wyatt took a seat and looked for a place to begin. “I have
come about Lady Cassandra.”

Duncan grunted and relaxed. Reaching for the decanter of
brandy, he admitted, “She’s a rare handful. I expected her to be sent packing
well before this. Well, you need not worry. I’ve ordered her home. She should
be out of your hair shortly.”

“That’s not precisely what I had in mind.” At the moment,
Merrick wished it was. He disliked being put in the position of admitting a
moral failing. “I have come to ask you for Lady Cassandra’s hand in marriage.”

Duncan choked and spewed a mouthful of brandy across the
desk. He gaped as if Merrick had just taken leave of his senses. “Cass? You
want to marry Cass? Why? Is she blackmailing you?”

Duncan knew his sister well. Merrick grimaced and crossed
his arms over his chest. “There was a minor incident at the country party. I
feel obligated to make reparations. I’ll take care of her, you can be sure of
that. I’m prepared to make a handsome settlement. I think it best if we wed
quickly and remove to the country. I don’t believe city life suits her.”

Duncan grinned. “You sound as if you’re about to buy a pound
of conscience. What would you want with the little hellion? She ain’t your sort
by far.”

Wyatt stiffened. “She’s young and impressionable. We’ll grow
to suit. The main thing is to avoid the scandal.”

The marquess leaned back in his chair and suffered his discomfort
with apparent gladness. “The main thing, Merrick, is her settlement. The chit
has cost me an unholy fortune, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I am in need
of funds. She’s a lively little thing, and quite a few are taken with her. The
scandal won’t scare them away unless you’ve got her with child, and somehow, I
rather doubt that.”

Merrick felt his temper rise. Although he did not come to
town often, he was well aware of the gossip. The sobriquet “St. Wyatt” was as
nothing to the rumors of why his first wife had never produced children after
years of marriage. To have Eddings throw that up in his face added fuel to a
simmering fire. Only the memory of Cassandra’s stunned expression after he
kissed her kept him in his seat.

“You are speaking of your sister, not a prize horse,” he
informed Eddings coldly. “I have reason to believe she is not averse to my
attentions. While I am not prepared to ransom her for an unreasonable sum, I am
prepared to accept full financial responsibility for her from this day forward.
I will provide her with an annual income, and settle a fair sum on you and her
mother. And I will provide her with the home and security a lady should expect.
You will not need to worry about her ever again.”

“I never worried about her before, why should I start now?
Cass can take care of herself. Why the deuce she would choose you above the
others, I cannot fathom, but she’s free to make that choice, provided that you
can make the same settlement as her other suitors.” Duncan sat back in his
chair, smiled comfortably, and named a sum that would have bought and sold his
entire holdings twice over.

Merrick offered a cold smile. “I may be wealthy, Eddings,
but I am no love-bitten fool. Anyone willing to offer that sum is buying your
silence.” He leaned over and scribbled an amount on a piece of paper on the
desk. “I’ll not bargain for her. You’re the one who must live with your
conscience. You know she will be safe in my hands.”

Duncan glanced at the number and shrugged. “As I’ve told
you, Cass can take care of herself. You may be well off, Merrick, but Rupert
can dress her in diamonds, and offer her a trifle more pleasure than a country
parson. My conscience doesn’t nag me in the least by accepting his offer. She’s
whetted his appetite and he’s chewing at the bit. I daresay he’s more her type
than you. So I suppose we have nothing further to discuss.”

He rose from his chair and Merrick rose with him, his ire
seething. “Rupert is an unscrupulous rake with the morals of a degenerate
rabbit. If you can accept his suit over mine, the matter is on your conscience.
I wash my hands of it. Should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

~*~

Cassandra rode in silence as the carriage carried her and
her mother’s aunt back to London. The scene with Catherine had left a bitter
aftertaste in her mouth. Catherine had every right to be outraged, but she had
said unforgivable things about
Merrick
.

Cassandra was willing to admit that she was a wanton hoyden.
She didn’t think she was a whore, but she was willing to let the epithet slide by.
But to call Merrick a debauched old goat seeking filthy pleasures with children
was an unfeeling and irrational thing to say. Unfortunately, Cassandra realized
that Catherine might not be the only one saying them.

Wyatt was such a proud and proper man, she hated to be the
one to blacken his name. Why hadn’t she thought more about his feelings before
she landed them in this situation?

Because she had no choice. Lifting her chin, she stared out
the carriage window. Aunt Matilda had scarcely said two words to her since they
left. She would not be sympathetic to Cassandra’s plight. No one would. How
could she explain that Rupert made her skin crawl? It was her place to accept
her brother’s choice for her, they would say. Well, she wouldn’t. She had made
her choice and acted upon it. She would rather live with her own wrong
decisions than someone else’s.

By the time they arrived in London, Cassandra was prepared
to defy the world in defense of her decision to marry Wyatt. He must have
spoken to Duncan by now. He would come to see her in the morning. The earl
would be angry and coldly formal, but she would win him. She knew she could.

She might be wanton, but for a little while, Merrick had
been too.

Holding that thought as she marched into her mother’s
bedroom under Matilda’s command, Cassandra smiled blithely and rushed to her
mother’s bedside. Lady Howard appeared paler than usual, and Cassandra brushed
a strand of golden hair back her mother’s face as she perched at the edge of
the bed.