Chapter Ten
Merritt awoke, and his first thoughts were of the lovely, flame-haired Iris Bennington. They had succeeded last night. She had been perfect, in the theater and in the carriage afterward. He’d had to put a stop to the kissing because he’d wanted more. Craved more. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted a woman more.
His second thoughts were that today Lady X’s story would run in his paper. He was thankful that Iris did not read his newspaper. That alone should concern him, that he’d even care if she saw it or not. That was his business, his duty to report on stories that would capture the attention of London’s elite.
He made his way down to the smaller dining room they used for breakfast. The room already smelled of eggs and butter and warm bread. His stomach rumbled in response. He idly made himself a plate and poured a cup of tea, then sat at the table.
Iris was out of his class, if you measured merely by birth. But he was an earl now, which meant that in the eyes of Society, they could be a match. Marriage? Was that what he was truly thinking about? Lucy had mentioned it, but he doubted very much that Iris would say yes to a proposal from him. But there were worst things he could think of than waking up to find Iris pressed against him every morning.
Lucy walked in and smiled brightly at him. “Good morning, brother.”
“Lucy,” he said with a nod.
She fixed her plate, and Merritt couldn’t help but notice her transformation. She was more poised, more confident, yet she was still his bright and happy sister. Iris had certainly followed through on her end of the bargain.
Granted, now that the wager had been completed, where did that leave them? She might well choose to end their alliance now that she’d gotten from him what she wanted. The thought of not seeing Iris, not spending time with her, left him feeling incomplete, as if he’d forgotten to put on all his clothes.
“How was the theater?” Lucy asked as she took her seat.
“It was as good as could be expected.” He took a sip of tea. “You went out as well, did you not?”
“Yes, I attended the Barker’s soiree with Ladies Harriet and Agnes. We had a delightful time. I danced with Lord Hendricks again.” A blush stained her cheeks at the mention of his name.
Hopefully, this Lord Hendricks would pay Merritt a visit soon, else he’d have to stop dancing with Lucy.
Merritt had barely finished his first cup of tea when a footman came in with a message. Merritt lifted the envelope off the tray and dismissed the servant. The penmanship was unfamiliar, as was the nondescript wax seal.
He lifted the blue wax and popped the envelope open, unfolding the note inside.
Lord Ashby,
It would seem you have a secret. I saw you last night at the theater with your special guest. A young man new to the city, perhaps? Some might have believed that, but I know the truth. That “young man” was none other than the proper Lady Iris Bennington in disguise. Her reputation is teetering on the edge of ruin. In order to protect your secret, you must pay me fifty pounds by midnight two nights hence. I look forward to hearing back from you. Please send all correspondence to the address below.
Yours,
Secret Keeper
Merritt swore. Someone had recognized her. But how?
“Whatever is the matter?” Lucy asked.
Merritt offered Lucy a smile. “’Tis newspaper business, my dear. Nothing you need worry about.”
Something had to be done. He couldn’t stand by and allow Iris’s reputation to be destroyed, especially with all the assistance she’d provided his sister. He needed to find out the identity of this secret keeper and put a stop to this. But that might not guarantee Iris’s reputation would remain intact. She had no father or uncles to offer her protection, and he knew her brother couldn’t accomplish anything. He could, though, protect her with his name.
He’d have to marry her. Though he’d sworn he’d never marry a woman from Society, he’d have to make an exception for Iris because he’d ruined her. Somehow, though, he knew she wouldn’t agree to marriage for such a reason.
He’d have to give her no choice in the matter. He would seduce her. Then she’d have to agree to marry him. If all went well, she might never have to know about this blackmail ordeal.
…
This entire ordeal had been pointless.
That she’d successfully proven she could pose as a gentleman only supported Merritt’s argument, not her own. Even with him putting a stop to the articles, it seemed the damage had been done, since her brother was still staying out too late and drinking too much. Merritt had told her that it had little to do with the words from the articles and everything to do with Jasper’s character, but she refused to believe that. She knew Jasper, the little boy who’d clung so tightly to her when their mother had died.
In the carriage ride home, she’d made an absolute fool of herself with Merritt. Her brazen attempt to persuade him to kiss her had been transparent and humiliating. He’d told her during the play that affection had nothing to do with physical pleasures. He’d been unwilling to give her either, as he’d quickly pushed her aside once the carriage stopped.
Had all his flirtation and kindness been nothing but an act to win the wager? He’d needed her assistance with his sister, and so he’d played a ruse to get her to help Lucy. She’d done that, and she’d been played the fool.
And the worst of it was Agnes had been right—Iris was losing her heart to Merritt. It was time for her to fiercely protect herself so that she would not be permanently broken. Which meant that now that their wager had concluded, she needed to not see him again. It shouldn’t be too challenging, as their paths hadn’t crossed until she’d forced them to.
The following afternoon, her plan to never again see Merritt came to an ignominious end when he arrived at her doorstep, refused to be turned away by her butler, swept into her sitting room, and kissed her soundly.
Naturally, it took her several—quite enjoyable—moments to recover her senses enough to push him away.
“What—” She was breathing rather hard, as was only natural under the circumstances. “What do you think you’re doing?”
…
“I want you. It is that simple,” he said.
Her eyes rounded. “Well, you cannot have me. It wouldn’t be proper.”
He closed the distance again between them. “Not one moment we’ve spent together, since we met, has been proper. You cannot cry propriety only when it serves your purpose.”
“I most certainly can!”
“You crawled into my lap in the carriage last night.”
“Shh!” She glanced at the closed door to her parlor. “Someone might hear you.”
He stepped over to the door and turned the lock. “Now then, no one will hear us. Or stumble inside.”
“But—”
“Iris.” He trailed a finger down the bare part of her arm. “Have I ever told you that I always get what I want?”
Her green eyes met his. She shook her head but said nothing.
“Oh yes, it is true.”
“And you want—”
“You.” He looked directly into her gaze. “I want you.”
She swallowed visibly. “I don’t understand. Last night when we kissed, you pushed me away.”
“That is not why I stopped. I stopped you because I want you so badly, I’m not certain I can control myself when you’re around. You drive me to near madness.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Try me,” he said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Kiss me again.”
She eyed him for a moment. Her tongue moistened her bottom lip, and then she leaned forward and kissed him. He pulled her the rest of the way to him, holding her tightly against his chest. And he kissed her back with all the passion he’d withheld from her in his attempt to rein in his desire. He walked her backward until her knees bumped against the settee, then he lowered them down atop it. Still, he kissed her.
She held nothing back, either; she moaned into his mouth and threaded her fingers through his hair. His hand found her breast. He was thankful that today she was dressed as a lady and her breasts were not bound and flattened against her chest. Instead he felt the delicious curve against his palm, and he wanted to explore every inch of her body.
He desperately wanted to see her, wanted to see the flush of desire spread across her lovely creamy skin, the pink at the center of her breasts, the length of her shapely legs.
“I want you now,” he groaned.
“Upstairs. My bedchamber.”
“Lead the way.”
They quickly made their way up to her room, and again Merritt locked the door behind them. He pressed her against the closed door and kissed her hard.
Her tongue darted out and rubbed against his own, and lust surged hot and wild through him. He spun her around and walked them over to her bed. He shifted their position enough so that he could work the buttons at the back of her dress. Thankfully there weren’t as many as there had been that day in his study. Soon he was able to loosen the gown and pull it off her shoulders and down the front of her body.
“I want to see you,” he said. “All of you.”
She nodded. “Draw the curtains closed.”
He did as she bade, then returned to her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, but she made no move to stop him as he removed her dress then took his time undressing the rest of her, sliding off each of her slippers then rolling down first one stocking, then the next. Her legs were long and shapely, just as he’d imagined them to be from watching her walk in the trousers. With every touch, she squirmed with pleasure, emitting small noises of bliss.
But he needed to see the rest of her. He methodically removed all of her undergarments, then set her on the bed. She lay before him like the perfect gift. The curls at the apex of her thighs weren’t as bright as the ones on her head, but they were red and drew his attention away from her ivory skin. And then there were her breasts. Perfectly sized and pouty, with pert pink tips that beckoned his lips. But he wanted to take his time and touch her everywhere. He cupped both of her breasts gently, and she arched against his hands, pressing her hardened nipples into his palms.
She was the most alluring and beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
He leaned forward and kissed her throat, then down to her collarbone, then to the rise of her breasts. He kept a hand on one while he tasted the other. She was so sweet.
His hands continued to explore her breasts while he kissed her thoroughly. He reached down and moved a hand up her leg, her skin smooth and soft beneath his palm. His fingers traced behind her knee to the sensitive flesh of her thighs. When he brushed across the juncture of her legs, she released a seductive sound of desire. His own need poured through his veins and settled heavily in his groin.
He moved through her nether curls and found her flesh hot and slick with her need. She trembled when his fingers moved against her. She whimpered softly. He continued his exploration.
He slipped one finger inside her, and slowly he began his rhythm. He found the nub beneath her folds and stroked across it. Her pleas became erratic. She arched toward him. She was intoxicating—her body, her touch, her smell. All of her surrounded him, and he wanted this moment, this night, to last forever.
Closer and closer he brought her to the edge, then he would pull back. He loved watching the pleasure play out on her expressive face. She was, undoubtedly, the most passionate woman he’d ever touched. He needed to be inside her. His own desire was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, so he kissed her deeply.
His finger dipped in again as he flicked across her folds. She tightened around his finger with the rhythm of her release. “Yes, Merritt,” she whispered. Her head pressed into the pillow behind her. “Yes.”
Quickly he guided himself into her before her climax subsided. Oh God, she felt good. Hot and tight and so slick. Her climax started again, and her walls squeezed around his shaft as he increased the depth of his thrusts. And then as his own release rocked through his body, he emitted a primal moan and collapsed atop her.
…
Iris listened to Merritt’s even breathing as he lay next to her in her bed. She could still feel the effects of their lovemaking on her body. Her flesh seemed to quiver every time she closed her eyes and remembered the sensations of their coupling.
She had wanted to say no to him today. More than that, though, she’d wanted him, craved the pleasure he could give her, despite knowing that indulging in her desires would likely lead only to hurt. Yet, when he’d told her how much he ached for her, how he’d only pushed her away in the past because of how much he desired her, she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her only coherent thought had been that he wanted her. And that had been enough.
She wasn’t so foolish to believe that after this she would be able to go back to her life as it was before she’d met him. But this… His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his warm breath on her bare neck. Lying here with him only made her think of what it would be like to live like this every day. To wake up in the arms of a man one loved.
It seemed ridiculous that she could already know she loved him. She barely knew him. Still, something powerful had happened between them these last few days. Something she’d never experienced before. So, she’d do her best to brace herself for the pain that was certain to come when he walked out of her life, leaving her with only the memories of their time together.
Iris must have dozed off because now that she opened her eyes she could see light peeping at the edges of the closed curtains. Merritt still lay behind her, and he snuggled closer, his warmth and strength molded to her back.
“I have thoroughly ruined you,” he said. His breath scorched her neck and filled her with desire.
“Yes, I am thoroughly ruined.” He’d most assuredly ruined her for any other men. No one would ever compare to Merritt.
“I shall, of course, do the right thing,” he said.
Her heart stuttered. But she said nothing, merely waited for him to ask the question she so hoped was coming next.
“Even though I wasn’t raised a titled gentleman,” he said, “I do know that if you steal a lady’s virtue, you offer her marriage.”
Still she said nothing.
“Iris?” he asked gently.
She wanted to get up, to leave the bed and run from the room, but she stayed motionless.
“Iris, I asked you a question.” He rolled her onto her back so they could see one another.
“You didn’t actually ask me anything. You simply made a statement,” she said.
“I took advantage of you,” he said. “We should marry.”
“For only that reason?” she asked, then regretted it the moment the question left her lips.
“No other reason would matter,” he said. “Your reputation has been tarnished, and I am a man of honor.”
She grabbed the coverlet and pulled it to her chest as she sat upright. “You are demanding that I marry you?”
“It is the sensible thing to do.”
“I care not if it is sensible. Those are not compelling reasons to marry.”
“You wish me to recite a love poem? I thought you more practical than this, Iris.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable,” she snapped.
He shook his head, confusion clear on his face. “I do not understand. I thought this was how it was done.”
“Marriage proposals? Perhaps for some, but it is not what I am looking for.”
“You cannot afford to be so selective.”
Anger surged through her, and she came to her feet, taking the coverlet with her as she went. “How dare you! Simply because I am unmarried with no prospects does not mean I cannot still say no to a proposal I deem unworthy.”
“That is not what I meant,” he said, his voice calm again. “Iris, someone recognized you the other night at the theater. I received a letter demanding funds or they will expose your secret.”
“What?”
“Marriage will protect you. Protect your reputation from any rumors or would-be scandals. I can protect you.”
“Wait.” She sorted through all his words and actions since he’d arrived that evening, and it was as if he’d pulled a chair out from under her. She grabbed the back of one now to steady herself. “You did this on purpose. You came here to seduce me so that you could compromise me and force me into marriage.”
“It is not force, my dear. Practicality, perhaps,” he said.
“Practical? Why not simply come here with the proposal in hand?”
“You would have said no had I come in and told you I was being blackmailed and should marry you to salvage your reputation. You cannot tell me that isn’t true,” he said. “Can you?” He rose from the bed and walked to her.
She refused to acknowledge his nakedness so she looked elsewhere. She exhaled slowly. “It matters not what I would have said, because you simply decided to come over here and deceive me.”
“Iris, you are being ridiculous. Would it be so bad to be married to me?” He pulled her to him. “We desire one another, last night proved that. And we are good together. Marriages have been built on far less.”
“Perhaps, but my marriage will not be.”
“You would risk ruination rather than marry someone who…”
“Doesn’t love me? Yes, I would.” Especially when it was so obvious that he didn’t. She’d been so afraid to love someone and then lose that person that she’d missed the real heartache—unrequited love. She’d never considered how much it could hurt to lose someone who hadn’t died. How devastating it would be to know that she simply wasn’t enough for him. She pulled free from his grip. “Now, if you will kindly dress and leave.”
“We are not finished with this discussion.”
“We are. I have said no, and I meant no.” With that, she left the room. She wrapped herself in the coverlet and closed herself in her dressing chamber. Then she slid down it onto the floor in a heap of tears, with his scent still wrapped around her.