The Earl's Desire (10 page)

Christine and Betty looked at each other, smiling. They knew this was their chance for a meeting. They picked up the bags and staggered toward the woman as she opened the door wider.

“
Here, you two can set them over there.” She pointed in the direction of the bed. They followed her instruction and placed the bags near the bed in the center of the room. Christine was about to walk to the door when she heard a sharp voice behind her.

“
Claire! Do come help me with this stupid gown. It’s too tight on me. Oh God, I can’t breathe! This corset is killing me. Damn it, Claire, hurry up. Can’t you see I’m suffocating?”

Christine eyed the beautiful woman. She was at a loss for words as she stared at the angelic form. The woman had golden-blond hair that was formed into ringlets high on her head with some curls dropping down that rested about at her breasts. Her skin was petal white and smooth like ivory. She was slender and tall. Suddenly, Christine felt like she was dirt next to a diamond.

“
Aye, my lady, I’m so sorry.” Claire, the lady’s maid, scurried to help the woman with her dress.

“
You two,” the woman turned her eyes on them, “Don’t just stand there. Leave at once. You should know your duties. Have you no manners? Leave, I say!” She shouted at the two of them, pointing a delicate, slender finger at them.

Christine felt a pang of shock. She and Betty glanced at each other and quickly left.

“
Servants these days have no manners,” Anne muttered as though there was poison in her mouth.

Christine and Betty went down, got more bags, and came back up. Claire quickly helped them put the bags down and checked both bags for something. “It’s not here,” she murmured to herself.

“
Found it yet?” Anne asked.

“
Nay, my lady. I’ll go down myself and find it,” the maid said and rushed to the door.

“
Wait!” Anne snapped. “Come back and undo my corset.”

“
What about the perfume?” Claire asked.

Christine’s and Betty’s eyes met.

“
I want that, too,” Anne snapped.

“
But—”

Anne sighed and looked heavenward. “Those two can find it for you. Come and undo this corset for me. Hurry!” she said through gritted teeth.

Claire nodded nervously and rushed to Christine and Betty. “Please, find a bag for me. It’s green with red strips. Please hurry. You don’t want Lady Anne to, err, get annoyed.”

Christine looked at the maid and saw the frightened look in her eyes. She herself had worn that look before, when Mr. Brad had been around, watching her and trying to find faults in her work. Then he had whipped her even though she hadn’t made any mistake at all. It was fear, that look the maid was wearing. Would Lady Anne whip Claire if she did something wrong? The very thought brought forward a lump in her throat, and she pitied the maid. To ease the maid’s mind, she nodded her head firmly, and she and Betty rushed out.

“
Good Lord, did you see her, Master Chris? Just look at the way she speaks to us, as though we are nothing but rubbish, and we’re not even her servants. I feel sorry for that maid,” Betty muttered as they descended the stairs.

“
She is very pretty though, isn’t she, Betty?” Christine said.

“
What? Don’t say you’re one of them, too? Falling head over heels in love with that witch,” Betty said disgustedly and sniffed noisily.

“
Well, she is pretty,” Christine put in firmly.

“
Huh, come on, Master Chris. If you listen to me, I advise you to pay no heed to that witch and stay away from her. She’s bad, I tell you.”

Christine found herself trying to keep up with the maid’s hurrying steps. They were only two steps away from ground floor when she lost her footing and crashed into Betty. They tumbled down the last couple of steps and landed flat on their faces on the polished marble floor.

She was sore all over. Christine was sure she was going to get bruises from this. She touched her elbow and found that it was tender. Another one to add to her collection, she thought, and pushed herself up. Instantly, the pain shot through from her ankle to the core of her heart. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to suppress the scream she was about to make. She turned her face heavenward. A moment later, when the pain subsided, she opened her eyes and saw in shock the angry face of Merrick.

The black look he wore on his face as he scowled down at them scared her so much that the pain in her sprained ankle paled in comparison. She didn’t know what to do, so she just sat there and stared up him.

Betty almost fainted when she saw the angry face of her master. However, she gathered all her courage, and with legs that wobbled—which, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to keep under control—she stood up.

“
What do you think you are doing?” Merrick asked, looking at Christine.

“
It was an accident. We fell down the stairs. Oh, my lord, I promise that it won’t happen again. I promise,” Betty cried, tears misting her eyes.

Merrick’s question wasn’t intended for the maid; it was for Christine. However, Christine wasn’t paying any attention.

He turned to look at Betty and then back at Christine. She was still staring up at him from her sitting position, both her legs under her bottom, both her palms on the floor, and her head tilted right back, staring up at him.

He bent down, roughly seized her arm, and swung her up to a standing position. She whimpered at the sheer pain as he yanked her up and tried very hard not to cry in front of him.

“
Stop playing foolish games,” he scolded and shoved her away from him.

She nearly collided with Betty. The other girl held on to her so they wouldn’t fall back onto their backsides again.

“
It was an accident,” Christine said quietly, and without looking at him, she limped toward the piles of bags near the door and grabbed the one with green and red strips.

He watched her as she was doing this, and his eyes narrowed.

She turned back and was passing him toward the stairs when he caught her arms and roughly pulled her around to face him. It was so quick that she was out of breath when she stood before him, her eyes staring at the mass of his white shirt.

“
You’re limping,” he commented. “And where do you think you’re taking that bag?”

“’
Tis nothing,” she said with her head bowed and moved her arm in such a way that she was released from his grasp. She started to move toward the stairs. He caught her arm again and grabbed the bag from her hand.

“
Take this.” He handed the bag to Betty. The maid grabbed it, bobbed, and rushed up the stairs.

“
You’re hurt, Chris,” he said.

“
I’m not hurt,” she said, tugging her arm free.

“
You’ve sprained your ankle. Come, let me look.”

“
You don’t have to concern yourself with me. After all, you didn’t for the past eight months,” she said, ignoring him.

“
You’re very stubborn, Chris,” he said and then left her.

She turned to look at him as he entered the drawing room. He had changed, she thought. She was still hurt that he had left her without saying good-bye eight months ago. When he returned, he had changed toward her.
Why?

EIGHT

Christine gently touched her fingers to her tender ankle. She winced at the dull pain. The spot had turned dark purple, almost black. It’d be sore for a few days, she thought. She’d have to be careful with it. She quickly put her sock and shoe back on, careful so that they wouldn’t press too hard on the tender spot. She stretched her legs out.

“
How’s your ankle?”

She jerked, looked up, and saw Merrick. She quickly stood up and grimaced at the pain her sprained ankle caused.
When did he come in?
she thought miserably. The man’s feet were as quiet as a lion when it was hunting its prey.

“
It’s fine,” she said.

“
You sure you’re all right, Chris?” His fingers touched her shoulder.

“
I’m fine,” she said breathlessly, nodding her head.

“
That’s good to hear,” he commented as he touched her chin so that their eyes met.

Merrick felt his pulse quicken. He swiftly removed his hand from her chin, turned, strode to her bed, and sat down.

“
There’s no need for you to attend me this evening,” he began.

Nay, he could not allow the youth to attend him tonight, nor from tomorrow onward. It would be too hazardous. Being with the youth caused him to lose his sense of logic and order. Being with the youth increased his yearning to kiss those soft lips.

When he had first met Chris, he had pitied the boy. Because of that, his fondness for him had led him to take the youth in. Only doing so had led him to experience odd feelings that he shouldn’t have had because it was ungodly. He had thought that going to London, mixing himself in the social whirl, and courting young women would surely make him come to reason. After all, he had hardly seen pretty women in the country. It had worked—for the first few months anyway. But then, Lord, all he had done after that was eye every young buck, and well, he had often wondered what women would look like wearing breeches.

When he knew he couldn’t handle this cursed fantasy anymore, he had returned to Huntingdon Hall—only to see the youth had grown even more
appetizing
—
ripe for the plucking.

Before he had left, Chris had been thin, almost skin and bone, with pale skin and sunken eyes. When he had returned,
my God
, he had transformed. He now looked fit, healthy, and
beautiful
. His skin was glowing with health, his brown hair—my God, he actually noticed this—was shiny and had grown even darker than he had remembered. His eyes were bright, his cheeks were always a light rosy color, and his lips—he groaned inside—were always pink and luscious. Somehow, he expected the youth to gain a bit of muscle because he was so healthy, but he couldn’t see any sign of that. When he had touched the youth’s arm this morning, it had felt soft—too damn soft for a young man.

He had hoped his going to London
would
change his idiotic fancy, but he had been wrong there. Now, even more so than before, his
desire
mounted. Every time he looked at Chris he wanted to kiss the youth. It was wrong, and he realized that he craved to do much more. He began to doubt his sanity daily. Every time he saw the youth, his hands itched to touch, to hold, to caress. His mouth yearned to kiss, to explore that soft, delicate mouth. What would it be like inside that mouth? Aye, he yearned and craved and hungered from the very sight of it.

“
You will get changed and come down to dine with me and my guests,” he said abruptly and stood up.

“
You wish me to dine with your guests?” she asked. There was panic in her voice.

“
Yes,” he said and walked out the room.

Christine didn’t know what to do. She certainly didn’t want to dine with his guests. But then she couldn’t very well disobey him. It was his order, after all. And so reluctantly she had a bath after he had left her, and then Paris came in to see her final dressing. Tonight she wore dark wool breeches, a white shirt, and a navy blue cravat that took Paris a full half hour to arrange to perfection. Once all done, she nervously came down the grand stairs to the drawing room. She had never met high society guests before, and she had no idea how to behave. She just hoped that she wasn’t going to embarrass Merrick because she was ignorant. Ross smiled and nodded at her as she walked into the drawing room.

“
I hope you both had a good rest, Lady Queensbury, Lady Anne?” She heard Merrick say to the two ladies sitting on the settee near the empty hearth.

“
Indeed, my lord, may I compliment you on my bedroom and all the other rooms in this Hall. They are inviting and elegant indeed,” Lady Queensbury said, smiling at him.

“
I’m glad you liked them,” Merrick said, knowing that it was in fact his ward who had a hand in it.