He’d gained considerable weight, too, and could no longer be considered merely stocky; the Renbourne children had inherited their lean builds and athleticism from their mother. With the earl’s age and weight, this morning’s riding must have been very tiring. Yet just as he’d never spared his children, he’d never spared himself. He’d always taken his responsibilities as a landowner and a member of the House of Lords seriously, and had never indulged in the extravagance and debauchery common among men of his class.
Now fatigue and pain showed in the deep lines of his face. Though he had never been an easy man, he was worthy of respect. Is this how Kyle saw the earl, and the reason why he could be so patient?
Shaken by this insight, Dominic answered, “I shall tell Meriel that she is not to bite anyone again.” Then he departed before his face could color at the vivid thoughts Meriel’s name aroused in him.
As he was leaving the house, his sister caught up with him. “Will you show me around the gardens?” Though she didn’t use his real name, there was hidden meaning in her voice when she added, “It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.”
With a pang, he recognized how much he’d missed Lucia. He’d gone to her coming-out ball, of course, but their meetings since were chance encounters because he hadn’t wished to call at Wrexham House and risk running into his father and brother. He offered his arm. “It would be my pleasure to show you the gardens.”
As he guided her through the parterre, he said quietly, “I’m sorry I haven’t seen more of you, Lucia. I forgot how quickly little sisters grow up.”
She shrugged philosophically. “I understood why you weren’t comfortable at Dornleigh. It would have been like three stallions pawing and snorting under the same roof. It’s bad enough just with Kyle and Papa sometimes. But I’ve missed you.”
He picked a small blue flower and tucked it behind her ear. “By leaving the field to Kyle, I’ve assured that he has become your favorite brother.”
She halted and scowled at him. “Stop that! Why do you think there’s a competition? You’re twins, but you’re not the same. I know Kyle better because we’ve lived under the same roof most of our lives, but I love both of you equally.”
He was taken aback, never having been snapped at by his sister. He thought about what she was saying. “I’m sorry, Lucia. Even at the best of times, Kyle and I were always competing, with neither of us really winning. Our abilities were too similar. It might have been easier if one of us was clearly superior. Instead, we were always jostling for position. But it’s not fair of me to involve you in our private war, even as a joke.”
“No, it isn’t,” she said tartly. “I want you both at my wedding, and acting like gentlemen.”
“I’ll be there, and I promise to behave.” Although when he considered the explosive possibilities inherent in his feelings for Meriel, he knew that Kyle might not feel so amiable. His stomach twisted. Lord, would Meriel and Kyle be married by then?
Stopping himself before his thoughts could start circling again, he turned onto a path that led to Meriel’s tree house. Lucia gasped at the sight of the improbable structure perched in its oak tree. “How wonderful! Every child’s dream. Have you been up in it?”
“It’s Meriel’s private sanctuary, and I’ve never been invited.” As he scanned the tree, he had a mental image of Meriel playing the role of besieged castle owner and pouring boiling oil from the windows. He smiled at the thought. “Since the ladder isn’t down, she’s probably there now.”
He took Lucia under the tree house in the hopes that Meriel might appear. His sister peered upward, shading her eyes against the sun. “I see there’s a lock on the trapdoor. She’s serious about privacy, isn’t she?” Raising her voice, she called, “Meriel, are you there? Will you let us visit your tree house or join us for a walk?”
No answer. Dominic wasn’t surprised. “She’s probably still angry about what happened at breakfast.” He took Lucia’s arm and guided her across the clearing where he had lured Meriel from her tree to picnic.
“I don’t blame her. As I said this morning, I’ve often wished to bite someone myself.” Lucia grinned. “I’m glad she didn’t really hurt Papa, but I do envy her the freedom to bite. There is something to be said for being thought a little daft.”
A little daft. He liked the sound of that much better than “mad.” “You mentioned her henna painting. Did she show you the one on her wrist?”
Lucia nodded. “She brought me some flowers right after you left last night. We had a very nice visit. I told her all about Robin, and she drew a design on me.”
Since this was his little sister, he decided that he didn’t want to know where it had been placed. “I’ll show you the topiary now. Warfield has the finest I’ve ever seen.”
As he and Lucia strolled down the paths, he realized that the worst of his father’s visit was over, and he hadn’t been recognized yet. All he had to do was get through the evening. Since Meriel obviously didn’t like the earl, she would probably skip dinner, which would reduce the opportunities for trouble. He was safe.
Yet for a treacherous moment, he considered what might happen if his father recognized that the wrong twin was courting Meriel. Might that be enough to cause Wrexham to withdraw his support for the betrothal? Hard to say; certainly he was impressed with the estate and dearly wanted to bring it into the family. One thing was sure: exposing the deception would cause havoc, and a public scandal if word got beyond the families involved.
His churning thoughts slowly crystallized into an unwelcome realization. He could no longer remain at Warfield, wanting Meriel more every day. Amworth and Wrexham had both visited and given their tacit blessings to the courtship, and Meriel had become accustomed to his presence. He’d done what Kyle wanted.
Now it was time to leave. Distance and diversion might diminish the spell Meriel had cast over him. Of course he was entranced by her—she was lovely, and the most intriguing creature he’d ever met. That didn’t mean he was deeply in love with her. Separation would help him understand his feelings better.
He hated the thought so much that he knew it was the right decision.
Chapter 24
Dominic dressed for dinner with extra care, since it was to be more formal than usual in honor of the distinguished guests. He’d managed to escape detection so far. Just a few more hours, and he should be safe. He glanced over his shoulder at Morrison, who was collecting Dominic’s razor and other toiletry articles. “You’ve seen my father’s servants belowstairs. Have any suspicions been raised?”
Morrison shook his head. “None at all. You’ve done well, sir.”
A compliment from Morrison! Amazing. If Dominic wasn’t careful, his self-opinion would become quite overexalted.
As he headed downstairs to the salon, he planned his departure. Not tomorrow—it might seem odd if he left immediately after Wrexham and Lucia. But the next day, or the one after. Certainly by the end of the week.
Hell.
He was the last to reach the salon. After an afternoon of rest, his father was in good spirits, and all the ladies were looking their best. Lucia really was a remarkably fine-looking girl. And, blessedly, no Meriel. He regretted seeing so little of her today, but it was better that she didn’t appear again until Wrexham was gone.
But then, Dominic would soon be gone, too. Hell.
Donning a smile, he accepted a glass of sherry and joined in the casual talk until the dinner bell rang. Mrs. Marks said, “Shall we go in to dine? Cook has made special efforts tonight.”
Unhurriedly the guests prepared to move into the dining room. Then Meriel appeared in the hall doorway.
Dominic happened to be looking in that direction, so he was the first to notice her. He almost choked on his sherry. Lord, but the girl knew how to make an entrance!
Seeing his reaction, the others turned until all five sets of eyes were locked on Meriel. She was in costume again, her slim form swathed enticingly in translucent silk that s
himmered between moonstone white and a pale green that emphasized the color of her eyes. One shoulder was bared, revealing an intricate henna medallion, while her silks were secured on the other shoulder by a grand, barbaric gold ornament. A pair of gold combs swept her hair above her ears before releasing it to cascade down her back.
When she had everyone’s attention, she moved forward gracefully, her elegant bare feet visible below the swirl of silk. In fact, Dominic saw with fascination, the fabric was draped to include a slit on the right side so that each step allowed brief glimpses of calf and knee. A henna pattern ran upward from her ankle chain until it disappeared under the sari, causing irresistible speculations about how high it went.
Behind her walked the ginger cat, and then Roxana, the animals following with the dignity of royal retainers. How the devil did she manage to get a cat to do that?
“That’s indecent!” Wrexham sputtered when he’d recovered from his shock. “Has the girl no sense of propriety?”
“She’s wearing an Indian sari,” Mrs. Rector explained imperturbably. “Quite unexceptional for a Hindu lady. Her mother collected foreign garments and jewelry, and Meriel enjoys wearing them on special occasions.”
Dominic suspected that Meriel’s version of a sari was more suitable to a dancing girl than a respectable lady, but it was very fetching indeed. The cluster of bangles on one slim wrist and the golden ankle chain visible when she walked added to her allure. To his father, he said, “Lady Meriel apparently wished to honor your visit, sir.”
“You look splendid, Meriel,” Lucia said warmly. “I wish I could wear such a garment, but I’m too tall and would look like a great gawk, I fear.” Nonetheless, there was a gleam in her eyes that made Dominic wonder if Robert Justice might someday receive an exotic treat from his bride.
Looking suspiciously demure, Meriel bowed before each guest, her hands pressed together in front of her chest. Darkened lashes and brows increased the drama of her appearance. Dominic heard a faint chiming when she dipped in front of him, and saw that she’d replaced her usual silver moon earrings with dangling clusters of tiny gold bells.
Though her eyes were downcast, her movement revealed more glimpses of leg, and a tantalizing hint of rounded breasts. Dominic tried not to stare, but doubted that he was successful. She was luminous, a true fairy queen.
Wrexham scowled when she bowed before him. “No proper English lady comes to dinner wearing only an indecent pagan scarf.”
“Surely in the privacy of her own home, she can wear the garments bequeathed by her mother,” Dominic said blandly.
“Fit only for the bedroom,” the earl muttered. Scowling, he offered Mrs. Marks his arm to lead her into the dining room.
Since the occasion was formal, Dominic took Mrs. Rector in to the dinner table, while the two young ladies followed, Lucia chatting happily to Meriel. She seemed to have accepted the idea of a mute sister-in-law very easily.
Dominic glanced over his shoulder and saw that the cat and dog completed the procession. He was half-surprised not to see Meriel’s hedgehog bringing up the rear.
Suppressing a smile, he took Mrs. Rector to her chair. She and Mrs. Marks, as cohostesses, were seated at the ends of the table, with Wrexham and Meriel on one side and Lucia and Dominic opposite. The floral centerpiece was so conventional that it must have been done by one of the ladies.
He took his chair across from Meriel, glad that she seemed at ease even though the earl was beside her. Roxana flopped on the floor behind Meriel’s chair, while the cat found a spot between Meriel and Mrs. Rector.
The serving of food and drink occupied the next few minutes. Dominic kept a wary eye on Meriel, hoping she’d behave herself until the meal was over. At least the earl knew better than to pinch her chin again.
The ladies and Lucia carried the conversation, with his sister recounting good-natured stories about the London Season. Otherwise it would have been a silent meal, since Dominic had resolved to say as little as possible and the earl was still scowling.
When Dominic first felt a touch on his foot, he thought the cat was wandering. Then the pressure became a gentle caress up the inside of his ankle. After a startled moment, he realized that Meriel was stroking him with her bare foot.
He stared, amazed, but her attention was on her plate. Not so much as a flicker of an eyelash indicated that the little minx was misbehaving. He drew his feet back and crossed them under his chair, out of reach.
For a while she left him in peace. Then, as the first course was removed and the plates and china changed in preparation for the second course, he once again felt a soft pressure, this time on the inside of his knee. He stiffened, unable to suppress the surge of desire that blazed through him. Meriel had the uninhibited sensuality of a first-class courtesan. Either that, or a diabolical sense of humor. Probably both.
He’d almost collected himself again when a light pinch on his thigh almost sent him jumping out of his skin. How the devil had Meriel reached so far? Then he realized that Lucia had pinched him in an attempt to get his attention.
When he turned to his sister, she gave him a warning glance. “Yes, do tell us your plans for the wedding.”
He swallowed hard, wondering who had asked the original question that Lucia was repeating for his benefit. “To be honest, I haven’t thought much on the subject. Meriel’s uncle Amworth is ill, you know. Since he is her guardian, it would be inappropriate to make plans for the time being.”
Mrs. Rector looked up from her lamb collops. “I forgot to tell you that I received a letter from Lady Amworth today. Apparently Amworth has rallied a bit. His condition is still grave, but…” She sighed. “It is impossible not to hope.”
“That’s good news.” Dominic uttered a fervent mental prayer that Amworth would recover. Certainly the man’s survival would improve his niece’s situation.
As the conversation turned to Amworth’s sons, whom Lucia knew from London, Meriel’s foot slid between Dominic’s thighs and nestled warmly over his genitals. He gasped, and hardened instantly. God in heaven, he’d never get through this dinner! He wanted desperately to sweep the little witch into his arms and carry her off to the nearest bedroom and make frantic love to her.
After a few crazed moments of lustful thoughts, he managed to reestablish a semblance of control. A good thing Lucia was in such fine form tonight. Her stories were keeping the ladies laughing and covering up his own distraction. He guessed that she was making a special effort to keep attention away from him.
He glanced at his father, which had a sobering effect, before looking at Meriel. She’d had to sink down in her seat to extend her foot under the full breadth of the table. He unobtrusively moved his chair back a few inches. That helped, but her wicked little toes could still reach his inner thighs. He reached under the table and caught her foot with one hand. A wonderful foot, strong and well-shaped and remarkably deft.
Meriel raised her gaze from her plate and regarded him with slumberous eyes. The girl was downright dangerous. Hoping rather desperately that she was ticklish, he drew his fingernail lightly along the arch of her foot. She made a sound reminiscent of a mouse squeak and jerked her foot away. He took the opportunity to move his chair back again, taking himself completely out of Meriel’s range.
When she scowled at him, he grinned. A spark of answering humor showed in her eyes before she dropped her gaze again. She knew perfectly well how outrageously she was behaving, and was enjoying every minute of his discomfiture.
Wrexham, who had spoken little while steadily emptying his wineglass, said abruptly, “The sooner you marry the girl and take control of the property, Maxwell, the better. The steward seems a competent fellow, but unimaginative. With better management, you can realize at least five hundred pounds a year more in income.”
Since his gaze was on Meriel, Dominic saw her go rigid at his father’s words. Guessing that she didn’t like the idea of her property being so casually claimed, he said, “It’s premature to discuss c
hanges at Warfield when the marriage is not yet fully confirmed.” He regarded Meriel with foreboding. “Lady Meriel must be willing—Amworth insists on that, and I agree.”
“She looks willing to me.” The earl raked Meriel with a fulminating glance. “The sooner she’s wedded and bedded and got with child, the better.”
As Meriel’s pale skin turned scarlet, Dominic said tightly, “You forget yourself, sir. Such talk is not fitting in this company.”
“Nonsense.” Wrexham tilted his wineglass toward his hostesses in an informal salute. “Mrs. Marks and Mrs. Rector are widows, and both of the girls are on the verge of marriage.” He frowned at Meriel. “And not a minute too soon. Amworth should have married the chit off years ago. I don’t envy you the job of controlling her. You’ll have to keep her on a tight rein to ensure that the heir to Wrexham is of Renbourne blood.”
As Mrs. Marks uttered a protest, Meriel rose from her chair and glared at the earl. Holding his gaze, she lifted her claret-filled wineglass by the stem, then whipped it downward to smash on the edge of the table. The sound of shattering crystal filled the air as blood-crimson wine sprayed across the white linen tablecloth.
Her head swung around toward Dominic, and he saw hurt as well as rage in her eyes. Then she bolted from the dining room, her silken sari flaring behind her.
“What the devil got into her?” the earl sputtered.
Dominic leaped to his feet. So furious he could barely speak, he spat out, “Congratulations, Lord Wrexham. You’ve managed with a few insults to destroy all of my efforts to build a relationship with Lady Meriel. If you truly want this marriage, you’ve picked a damnable way of showing it.” He rounded the table to go after Meriel…