Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03] (28 page)

Meryon jumped down from the carriage without waiting for the steps to be lowered. He gave his attention to the tiger, and in the golden light of the time after noon, the
duke was cast in a light that made Elena as hungry for his touch as she was for tea after a difficult day. This hunger was arousing, not comforting, responding to nothing more than the sight of him.

Elena was flustered for a minute, not sure whether to greet Meryon with the decorum of a guest or run to the door and throw herself into his arms. Laughing a little, she waited until the duke came into the room before greeting him with a curtsy and then a kiss.

The lovers acted as though they had been separated for months instead of hours. The kiss fueled the hunger. Elena could feel Meryon’s arousal and surely he could feel her eagerness.

Elena grabbed Meryon’s hand and they ran up the stairs together. At the top she turned and kissed him again. “I have not felt this abandoned ever, never. We haven’t even said hello.”

“I will tell you about my day and you can tell me about yours.” Meryon pushed open the door to the bedchamber. “Later.”

In less than a minute, the dress, so carefully chosen earlier, fell to the floor along with the petticoats and stays until Elena wore nothing but a shift. With a haste equaling Meryon’s, Elena yanked his coat off, not caring if a seam ripped.

Meryon pulled off his boots. Elena unbuttoned his pants and raised her shift so that she could mount him where he sat on the edge of the bed. She controlled the movement, and the first time Elena raised her hips and felt him inside her she forgot the awkwardness of their position.

Neither one of them had more than two minutes to enjoy the tension. When Meryon’s seed spilled into her, Elena arched her back, holding onto his shoulders with both hands, and felt him as deep in her as it was possible to be. They collapsed beside each other on the bed.

“Who ever thought watching you climb from the coach would be all the seduction I needed?”

Meryon kissed her temple. “Or that your eager kiss would erase any doubts I had.”

“Doubts?”

“Yes, I’m sure I had some but, as I said, they were all erased by that perfect, welcoming kiss.”

“If it was perfect, Meryon, then we never have to kiss again, do we?”

“Nonsense. We must try and try and try to capture the same magic again.”

“Oh, I see.” Elena gave him a quick kiss that was not close to perfection but quite delicious, tasting of him as it did. Elena fell onto her back. Their legs were hanging off the bed but neither made an effort to use the mattress more conventionally, as though movement would break the spell.

“Do you think it will always be like this?”

“God, I hope not, what will I tell my tailor?”

“That you are supporting the economy in your own selfish way.”

“If I told him that, then there is no doubt we would both be in a Rowlandson cartoon.”

Elena scrambled up, still wearing her very wrinkled shift. “You will become chilled if we do not cover ourselves.”

Meryon shucked off the rest of his clothes as Elena pulled the shift over her head. Then they both slid under the covers.

The shadows were deep in the bedroom even though the sun would not set for several more hours. Meryon and Elena settled themselves, her head on his chest, Meryon’s arm around her.

“We are in some netherworld, between life and heaven.” Elena drew a deep breath and was sure she could smell spring. “Tell me about your day, Meryon.”

“Ooof,” Meryon said. “I am very much back down to earth.”

“Yes, my day was like that too, but now the worries seem a hundred miles away instead of just a few.” Elena watched his chest rise and fall and tried to match her breathing to his.

E
LENA COULD TELL
the moment Meryon fell asleep, and her eyes drifted closed too. The time that passed could have been five minutes or an hour.

Shifting in the bed to ease a pleasurable stiffness, Elena stilled instantly when Meryon made a sound that was almost a moan. “Have I hurt you?”

“No, no, sweet.” Meryon kissed her hand. “There is too much shadow in here to see the bruises, but my brother, Gabriel, fair marked me all over at Jackson’s today. He was in a foul mood at breakfast and some time in the ring seemed the best way to erase the ill humor.”

“So you are starting at the end of your less than perfect day?”

“Yes, I suppose I am. Mind you, I did not intend to be the loser. The man’s in fine form; keeping up with all those children must be the key.”

She loved listening to him talk like this. It reminded her of their first meeting and wished it would always be so.

“Gabriel is so impatient. He wants me to solve all the problems of hunger and unemployment right now and in my spare time find out why he and Lynette are not allowed to show their work at the Academy of Science.”

Meryon might be more patient but he was not any less caring because of that. She raised her head and pressed a kiss on his chin. “Hunger and the need for more work have been with us as long as we have had cities, and even before that when crops failed.”

“Precisely, and will take almost as long to cure. As for the Academy of Science, I have no cachet there. None at all. The academy is a group of men who are not anxious to see change despite their interest in science. A new bug or a fancy clock is all the group wants to read about.”

“Perhaps Lord and Lady Gabriel should start another society to which the Duke of Meryon could lend his name and support. One that welcomes papers by anyone no matter what their gender or even their religion.”

“That’s a wonderfully egalitarian idea, Elena, but not likely to be taken seriously.”

“Don’t be patronizing, Meryon.” She tried to look him in the eye, but could see no more than his chin. “In France, men regard women as having a value beyond the bedroom. Why can’t the English be so bold?”

“I have no idea, but something the French do will not
win you support among the men of science. They are still annoyed by all the work Napoleon’s men did during the war.”

“Which makes my point, as I am sure some of those men were women.” That reminded her of her evening. “Which brings me handily to my day, which began last night the moment I walked in the door.”

Meryon listened to her account of Mia and William’s misadventure with satisfying interest.

“That led to an absolutely awful morning. When I told Mia that her behavior meant a postponement of her first ton event, the girl had a tantrum that makes my temper look controlled. By the time Mia was done crying and screaming she had thrown a vase at the window and broken both.”

Meryon’s amazed “Good heavens” was all the sympathy Elena could hope for.

“I feel guilty leaving Mia in the Tinottis’ hands but I have a very healthy selfish streak and wanted my time with you.”

Elena sat up now, pulling the sheet up to cover herself.

“I sent a message to William asking him to meet me at Hatchard’s. He was insistent that to restrain Mia any more was a mistake. I told him that they were too much alike for him to be any judge of what was the right action to take.” She was becoming annoyed all over again. “He said that was exactly why he knew it was the wrong thing to do.”

“Lord William is a force to be reckoned with.”
Meryon eased himself up so that he was resting against the headboard.

“Yes, but I have always been able to count on him to do right before. Mia’s influence is not for the best, I’m afraid.” She watched Meryon, hoping for some support.

“That is an understatement,” he said, folding his arms. “The viscount should have informed you right away and let you handle the situation.”

Elena laughed. “That’s what I said at first, but think about William. He is a man, not a governess, and besides that, a man who is inclined to share an adventure with any willing soul.”

Despite the fact that she and Meryon agreed with each other Elena could see that they were close to an argument, so she kept any further thoughts on the subject to herself. She was not going to ruin their lovely afternoon with a nonsense disagreement over something so domestic.

Meryon must have read her mind. “I know this a big bed but there is only room for two people, as far as I’m concerned. Unless you are inclined to a ménage à trois?”

“You are not serious.” She could not hide her dismay.

He shrugged. “I thought you might consider it an adventure.”

“I would not.” He seemed to accept her vehemence. “Would you, Meryon?”

“Not today.”

A
MéNAGE à TROIS
was not something he’d ever considered, even after viewing some of the vignettes at the
whorehouses in his youth. A threesome was too much like watching circus gymnasts, albeit naked. But letting Elena think he was intrigued by it did give him an advantage. If Elena had any idea how besotted he was, he would lose all control of the situation.

They made love again and this time the sex was as slow and languorous as it had been rushed before. Elena seduced him, touched every part of him with her hands and her mouth.

Meryon loved the feel of her against him. Like her singing, her lovemaking unleashed emotions that were beyond any of his experience, from an overpowering lust, to love, to a fury of need frightening in intensity.

Wave upon wave drove him until he could wait no longer. Once the two of them were joined by the act of his entering her, of making them one, Meryon gave in to the physical need that took control and drove them together to completion.

Each knew what the other needed, wanted, and each gave as completely as mind, body, and heart would allow. That overwhelming hunger obscured the fear that Meryon needed her more than was wise.

He fell asleep again, sated and now wanting another kind of intimacy. He had never fallen asleep next to a woman before.

Unease crept back while his eyes were closed.

E
LENA WAS DETERMINED
not to be annoyed by Meryon’s snores. Not snores, but the kind of breathing that meant the man needed rest. She lay next to him awhile, feeling used in the most delicious way. Obviously he felt the same.

Had anyone ever written a poem to a sleeping lover? Elena liked to think of sleeping with another as the dearest sign of trust a couple could share. Meryon was not pushing her away.

As if he heard her, Meryon moved in his sleep, reaching out so that his hand touched hers. The little bit of physical contact was enough reassurance to send him deeper into sleep again.

Elena supposed one little touch was one more way that men and women were different. Just that bit of contact was enough for Meryon.

Physical closeness made her want even more of him. Elena wanted to know everything, from what he thought about the way the Regent treated his wife to how often he had been to Gunter’s.

Elena turned her hand so that their palms touched and she could feel his pulse, the smoothness of his fingers despite fencing and his time at Jackson’s. Clearly the need to use their hands and fists was another way that men were different from women.

There was no saying which was better or if either truly worked. At least she was generous enough to allow that.

As Elena moved to hold his hand, Meryon pulled his hand from under hers and tucked it beneath the bed pillow. His gesture left her feeling dismissed.

Don’t be so missish. This is hardly the place for such airs
, she chided herself.
Leave him alone. He is every inch a man and sleeping like this proves it
. Resisting the urge to smooth the hair back from Meryon’s brow, Elena slid from under the covers and out of bed, gathered her clothes, and went into the dressing room.

Tugging the bellpull, Elena tried to ignore a feeling of awkwardness. Her shift was wrinkled and damp but she had no other with her. Who would have known that it would be a casualty of their lovemaking?

The maid came quickly and helped her dress without comment, managing to convey a sympathy that was as nurturing as it was pragmatic. The woman was comfortable to be with.

“Madame, the duke asked me earlier to have wine and cakes in the salon. He will meet you there at his convenience.”

The word “convenience” rankled, almost enough that Elena considered going back into the bedroom and making sure that the duke’s convenience and hers were the same. Instead Elena took her vague sense of irritation with her to the salon, sipped the wine, and picked up one of the volumes that sat on the table next to the tray.

M
ERYON REACHED OUT
to her and found cold linen. He wanted Elena to be here, next to him. Disappointed, he rubbed the fatigue from his face, sat up. No sounds came from the dressing room. That meant Elena was downstairs drinking wine and eating cakes, waiting. Meryon took his pillow and threw it across the room, and then was embarrassed as it reminded him of Rexton when the boy did not have his way. Well, that was the truth of it. Meryon wanted her here and now so that he could play some more.

He ignored the banyan that lay on the chair and dressed as he picked up his clothes. His breeches fit tightly and he patted the fall as if consoling himself. His shirt and cravat made him feel more gentlemanly, but he could not put his closely tailored coat on without help.