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Authors: Adrienne Basso

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BOOK: To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)
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“John Coachman wishes to know if you want to return to the house or if you prefer to be dropped at your club.” Meredith’s gentle voice cut through the marquess’s musings.
“I have no specific plans for the day.” Trevor frowned. “Is there anywhere you wish to go? Bond Street, perhaps, for some shopping?”
Meredith sighed. “After the morning we have had, I am hardly in the mood for something as frivolous as shopping.”
Trevor rapped on the roof and the coach slowed. He lowered the window and bellowed up to the driver, “Take us out to the park. Her ladyship and I would enjoy a slow turn around the paths.” Trevor glanced over at Meredith. “Unless you object?”
“This is a most unfashionably early hour to be driving in the park, my lord.”
“You should know by now that I never like to follow the dictates of fashion.” Trevor watched his wife for a moment. “Therefore I would very much appreciate if you would please address me by my Christian name. You are so formal at times I half expect you to start curtsying when I enter a room.”
Meredith’s eyes flared and Trevor felt a jolt of satisfaction. Good. At least he had managed to wedge a crack in her infernal composure. It was starting to get on his nerves.
“I was under the impression you preferred formality between us. Your behavior,
Trevor,
since our marriage has certainly told me you wish to have as little to do with me as possible. I was merely following your wishes.”
“You have rarely, if ever, followed the dictates of any man,” the marquess replied. “You do it to annoy me. Or garner my attention?”
She almost leaped across the coach in protest. “Balderdash! I own that I can be stubborn and foolhardy at times, but I would never stoop to such unsavory tactics and push myself on a man who does not want me. You proved that point most admirably last night in your bedchamber.”
“I would like to explain about last night, Meredith.”
“That is hardly necessary.” Her eyes became slits of blue outrage. “You did not wish me in your bed. I understood that very clearly.”
“You were mistaken.”
She shook her head and gazed steadily into his face. “Since our marriage you have treated me with nothing but apathy and disinterest. Or do you deny you have shown more deference to the servants than to me?”
“I had my reasons,” he said.
She looked caught off guard by his admission. “They must be fascinating.”
Trevor smiled wryly. Even while he was trying to distance himself from her, his admiration for her spirit and strength grew. Most women had been taught from the cradle to placate a man. Apparently this was a lesson Meredith never took to, for she showed not a bit of apprehension at challenging him.
It only furthered his opinion that she deserved far more than he could give her. It was time for him to be blunt.
“Sex between a man and a woman can often be a physical release for one or both of them. Nothing more. It is not, as the poets suggest, woven together in an unbreakable bond with love.”
Meredith had ceased squirming in her seat and was now regarding him with a look akin to amazement. Encouraged, Trevor continued.
“And yet there is a sort of madness connected with sexual desire and fulfillment that can lead a person to forget everything that matters, everything they hold dear within themselves. They reach a point where they would say anything, do anything, risk anything to please and pleasure their partner.”
“Is that not love?”
“No,” he answered vehemently. “Many often confuse it with love, and therein lies the tragedy. This sexual obsession is a momentary flash. It burns fierce and bright and menacingly hot and then fades and fizzles just as quickly, leaving behind hurt feelings, anguish, even heartbreak for one partner.”
“Me?” she whispered.
“I fear so,” he replied, though in the back of his mind the voice of truth shouted,
Liar. You are just as susceptible to this heartbreak as she.
“If you find I have been distant and cautious these last weeks, ’tis because I fear if we let passion rule, you and I will find ourselves in this hopeless situation.”
“If you knew this to be the predicament, why did you marry me?” she asked.
“I was an idiot, blinded by some primitive need to bend you to my will,” he said. “Selfishly, I did not recognize the truth of our situation until it was too late.”
She sagged against the seat, her brow furrowed. She was staring at him intently, but her gaze seemed unfocused. “Are we beyond all hope, Trevor?”
He felt a trickle of shame at the sad confusion that laced her tone. “Now that you are aware of the consequences, perhaps we can eventually resume marital relations. But you must fully understand that all I can offer you is physical pleasure. Nothing more.”
“Is more necessary?”
“It should be for a wife.”
She flinched. “I had no idea you were such an incurable romantic. I thought most men felt exactly the opposite when it came to marriage, expecting nothing more than a woman of breeding, civilized conversation, and children. Good looks would be a plus, but hardly a requirement. And passion? Is that even a consideration between a man and his wife?”
“’Tis your passionate nature that brings us to this juncture,” Trevor said. “It flows so easily from you, and I am merely a man, struggling to resist your allure.”
“I am your wife. Why must you resist me?”
“I thought you would want more between us than rough, hard, meaningless sex.”
He thought he might have finally succeeded in shocking her. She looked as though she was about to roar with fury.
“Is that what you are offering me?” she inquired with a chilly smile.
“Is that what you are asking of me?”
“You arrogant cur. I am not a complete ninny. I did not expect our union to be without its challenges. I admit I have been distressed to learn how very little you care about me. Despite what you may think, I have long accepted you would fail to love me. Ever. But it goes beyond that. Can you not be truthful with yourself? Apparently you do not even like me.”
“Just the opposite is true. I like you very much. Far too much.”
Irritation flashed over her lovely features. “You have a most peculiar way of showing this regard.”
“In lieu of true affection, would you prefer I seduce you with passion?” He kept his voice reasonable, hoping to emphasize his sincerity. “Forgive me, but I know that is not enough. You deserve better than what I can give you.”
“Ahh, but we seldom get what we deserve in life, do we, Trevor?” He felt a warm caress of air as she blew out her breath. Meredith’s foot began tapping an impatient rhythm, and her expression became pensive. “You have overlooked the obvious. There are practical reasons for having marital relations.”
“Are you referring to children? You never mentioned them before.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to imagine her slender form swollen with his babe. The notion brought on a tender, pleasant feeling. “Do you have an overwhelming desire to be a mother?”
“It would please the duke to have an heir,” Meredith answered.
The marquess’s hands clenched into fists. “An excellent reason to remain childless.”
“For once I quite agree. The one child we already have in the household is sufficient.”
“I assume you mean me, madame?”
She raised a haughty brow. “How very astute you are, Trevor.”
He had no witty reply. She was right. He was acting childish, but the riff between him and his father went back many years. She did not understand the complexity of the issues nor the degree of his hurt. “I must commend you for your expert handling of my father. You two have become rather cozy in a short period of time.”
Meredith sighed. “Though your tone implies you believe otherwise, I can assure you I have not done this to make you angry. Or to garner your attention.” An ironic smile flitted uncertainly across her lips. “The duke has been kind and attentive toward me. I appreciate his company.”
“He can be most charming when the occasion or circumstances suit him. But I warn you, his favor can be quickly lost and his wrath a monumental fury.”
“Rather like his son?” she remarked with innocent sweetness.
“I am a mere amateur compared to the duke.”
Meredith’s lips pressed together in a line. “I recall a time when you and your father were good friends. What is the reason for this great quarrel, this constant friction between you?”
“Lavinia.”
Meredith frowned. “But the duke adored her. It was common knowledge among those of Society. I cannot imagine her ever doing anything to displease him.”
Trevor felt the familiar surge of pain overtake him at the stirring of this long-buried memory. “The morning of her funeral we quarreled bitterly. He demanded I remove her wedding band, informing me it was a family heirloom that had been worn by the wives of the dukes of Warwick for six generations. It was far too valuable and rare to rot in a crypt.”
Meredith gasped. He saw her glance down at her gloved left hand, then nervously hide it beneath her reticule. “I am sure he did not mean to sound so brutal. Yet his actions prove that the duke can be a hard, unsentimental man. He was wrong to deny you in your time of sorrow.”
Some of the coldness inside the marquess evoked by this bitter memory began to slowly fade. He had been crazed, nearly out of his mind with grief, and his father’s words had pushed him beyond civility. He had said unspeakable things, had vowed never to forgive and never to forget.
Yet perhaps it was time to consider letting go of the past, to look forward instead of back.
Trevor peered from beneath slightly lowered lids and watched Meredith fiddling with the elegant band of gold and diamonds she wore beneath her glove. “You need not worry. The ring you now wear was purchased from a jeweler on Bond Street the morning of our wedding.”
“And the other ring? The great heirloom?”
“Rests on Lavinia’s hand for all eternity, as it should.”
“I’m glad.”
He felt vindicated by her response. The battle with the duke had been one worth fighting and winning. A bit more of the pain of the past subsided, and Trevor’s mood changed. In the soft light that filtered through the carriage window, Meredith’s face took on an ethereal glow. She did not cast her eyes away or try to hide from the emotions he was sharing. Her gaze was direct and steady and intelligent.
She was also exceedingly attractive. She had worn a modest gown, appropriate for the manner of their morning call, with a high scooped neckline. The temptation was strong, oh so strong, to reach across and draw her into his lap, then settle her bottom on his thighs.
He would next bend his head and touch the tip of his tongue to the bare skin at the top of her cleavage, slowly stroking downward until her breasts swelled and firmed, until she lifted her head back and offered herself to him like a pagan goddess.
All manner of thoughts raced through Trevor’s head as a thick rope of desire twisted deep inside his gut. He fought the hunger, determined to master himself, to prove he could control the passion.
She blushed and smiled fleetingly, as if she somehow knew the lustful direction of his thoughts. He shifted his gaze, overcome with a sudden wave of protective feeling for her—and completely disgusted with himself when he realized
he
was still the one she needed protecting from.
Thirteen
Something changed during that afternoon carriage conversation. In the days that followed, the marquess was still rarely seen by his wife. She did not share his bed—yet. And when Meredith thought about the state of her marriage, she could ascertain no visible improvement.
Still, she felt more comfortable with her position as his wife and as marchioness, and her confidence and spirit began to renew. Trevor’s explanations for his behavior had been complicated and confusing, but he had succeeded in one very important area. She did not take his rejection so personally. It was a ridiculous notion, yet when examined within the context of their very unorthodox marriage, it made perfect sense.
“When the dancing begins tonight, will you follow your usual form and dance with no other man but your escort, the Duke of Warwick?”
The amused male voice that whispered in her ear was a familiar and welcome sound. “Jasper!” Meredith turned enthusiastically and embraced her brother warmly. “How wonderful to see you! And what a surprise. I thought a ball given by a stodgy, elderly member of the
ton
was the last place I would find you.”
“We live but three doors away. It seemed utterly rude not to attend for at least a portion of the evening.” Jasper tossed his head and assumed a haughty manner. “Besides, a true gentleman must learn to be comfortable and accepted anywhere in Society, not only among his male companions.”
Meredith nearly dropped her fan at the statement. She was about to congratulate her brother on his amusing mimicry when she noticed he had not broken into a smile. In shock, Meredith determined he was serious.
Her fan immediately lifted to hide the grin that formed on her lips. This sober, mature countenance of Jasper’s would take a bit of getting used to, and while slightly affected, it was in many ways an improvement over the reckless, irresponsible behavior he’d exhibited in the past.
“Is Jason here also?” Meredith asked, looking past her brother’s shoulder to search for his twin. “I would like to greet him.”
“We arrived together, but he is off somewhere sulking.” Jasper sighed. “We agreed to allow ourselves only three hours in the card room, and Jason is angry because when the time limit was reached he was on a winning streak. It took me several minutes to pry him away without causing a scene. He was not at all pleased.”
Meredith cleared her throat, then coughed. But her astonishment did not easily vanish. Her brothers were now voluntarily limiting their time gambling? Was that truly possible? “I am pleased to discover you are both trying to master some self-discipline,” Meredith said slowly.
“It was actually Dardington’s suggestion.” Jasper smiled pleasantly and bowed low to an elderly couple who strolled near. Then he turned back toward Meredith to resume the conversation. “The marquess thought it was time we began to broaden our social horizons. And when he ascertained we had no wish to marry anytime soon, he advised us to attend as many functions as we could tolerate that would showcase the new crop of debutantes.”
“Really? To what end?”
“Knowledge, of course.” Jasper clucked his tongue as though it was a most obvious connection. “ ’Tis sound advice. Learning the subtle way to negotiate the marriage mart and those carefully laid traps set out by scheming mamas and desperate chaperons will stand us in good stead in the future. No sense getting caught in the parson’s mousetrap unless we are ready. Or nearly ready.”
“Wise advice,” Meredith retorted. Too bad the marquess had not followed it himself. Damnation! Meredith mentally shook her head. Must every conversation she had eventually lead back to the marquess and the state of her marriage?
With effort, Meredith retreated from the direction of her thoughts. “Have you and Jason been spending a great deal of time with Dardington?”
“A fair amount.” Jasper’s eyes sparkled. “Though we travel in slightly different circles, we share many of the same interests, frequent many of the same clubs.”
Meredith’s face clouded. “I can well imagine what those finer male interests entail. Horse racing, boxing, aged brandy, loose buxom women, and high-stakes gambling. Oh, and let us not forget the odd duel now and again. You three are a deadly trio set loose upon an unsuspecting city.”
“ ’Tis not as bad as all that, Merry. The marquess is changing. Everyone has noticed it. He is slow to anger, thoughtful before he takes action, more considered of his activities. Many have lamented he is more settled these days, less haunted, at times even downright somber.”
Surprised, Meredith considered her brother’s words. Jasper was making her husband sound like a wise old man. Responsible, levelheaded, even sober.
“You sound as though you like him.”
“I do. Dardington’s a capital fellow,” Jasper promptly replied. “He keeps his own counsel, lives his life without being overly concerned about appearances. He is much admired, much revered among many of my friends and acquaintances. I confess I, too, admire him greatly.”
Meredith could barely credit what she was hearing. Jasper was apparently afflicted with a terminal case of hero worship. “How quickly the worm turns. A few short weeks ago you were facing each other with pistols drawn, yet now you are the best of friends.” Meredith rolled her eyes heavenward. “And they say women are fickle.”
“The duel never took place, as you are well aware.” Jasper shrugged. “Besides, we are family. ’Tis bad form to quarrel publicly with your relations.”
“I must be sure to remind you of that the next time you and Jason start up with your customary bickering,” Meredith said.
Her eyes lit with mischief as she spied Jason striding toward them. It was good to be among the twins again, and almost shocking to admit how much she had missed seeing them on a daily basis. Though they had caused her numerous amounts of grief and worry throughout the years, she loved them both dearly.
“At last I have found you!” Jason executed a hasty bow, then swept her up in a comfortable hug. “I’ve been searching all over for you, Merry.”
“Have you?” A wave of spicy scented soap and fine brandy washed over her, such a pleasing and familiar odor that Meredith closed her eyes for a moment to relish it. “I confess it is wonderful to see you again, yet knowing you have been searching for me has caused a nervous shiver to run down my spine.” She laughed lightly, then pulled away and observed her brother keenly.
Jason was dressed to perfection in black evening attire, complete with a snowy lawn shirt, silver patterned waistcoat, black knee breeches, and a matching black coat. The severe outfit should have looked somber as he stood beside his identical twin, who was garbed in garments of richly hued blue tones, but somehow Jason had the slight advantage.
Meredith at first attributed it to the fine tailoring of his garments, but then decided it was the gleaming devil-may-care sparkle in his eyes that set Jason above his twin.
“Your words wound me, Merry.”
“Hardly.” Meredith ignored the look of stricken indignation she felt certain was feigned and kissed Jason’s cheek. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
A momentary frown marred the twin’s handsome brow. “I was having the most incredible run of luck with the cards, winning more this evening than I have in a fortnight.” He thrust an accusing finger at a clearly bored Jasper. “Unfortunately, my delight was abruptly cut short when I was unceremoniously yanked from the tables by my brother.”
“You might as well save your breath.” Jasper replied smugly. “Meredith already knows of our pact to limit our gambling at parties and balls. Needless to say, she approves heartily.”
“That is no surprise.” Jason sulked for a mere instant, then turned to his sister with a charming smile.“You will no doubt be pleased to note, then, that I have admirably managed to control my disappointment at this unlucky turn of events and vow at the next ball I shall play faster so I may win more.”
“Your fortitude astounds me,” Meredith said, with a small inscrutable smile.
“It is a marvel, is it not?”
“I think I’m going to be ill.” Jasper folded his arms across his chest and gave his twin a disgusted look.
“It irks you no end to be continually reminded that I am the favored brother.” Jason’s handsome face brightened and the moment his brother’s back was turned he winked broadly at Meredith.
“Shall we get a drink?” Meredith suggested, fearing Jasper’s earlier vow not to quarrel with a family member in public was in grave jeopardy of being broken.
“There isn’t time for drinks,” Jason insisted. “I spied the most angelic creature when I was leaving the card room. Fair of face, lithe of form, and in all likelihood newly arrived from the country. She possesses a starry-eyed gleam of provincial naivety in her eyes that is enchanting.”
“She sounds far too innocent and honorable for the likes of a scoundrel such as you,” Jasper interjected.
“She is a delight and certain to be the toast of the Season,” Jason stated firmly, pointedly ignoring his brother’s jibes. “A mere glimpse of her and my heart has been soundly pierced by Cupid’s arrow. You must find out who she is and introduce me to her at once, Merry, before my sweet young beauty is surrounded and bedazzled by a flattering horde of young bucks.”
Jasper laughed. “You are slipping, brother. Whenever a female catches your eye you usually waste no time in presenting yourself.”
“True. In the past that method has been most effective. Most women like a man who is bold and assertive. But this woman is different.” Jason’s lips twisted in a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, she is also accompanied by a harridan of a sister who is acting as her chaperon. I heard she nearly boxed the Earl of Aubrey’s ears for being presumptuous enough to request a waltz before learning if the girl had been granted permission for the dance.”
“Cowed by a mere female, brother.” It was a challenge, not a question. “How disappointing.”
“Trust me, there is nothing
mere
about this chaperon. She seems to have perfected a fine-tuned ability to scare away every potential suitor within a hundred miles. I believe a simple stare from this gargoyle would freeze a man’s ballocks.”
“Jason!” Jasper’s eyes shot darts of censure at his brother.
“What?”
“Watch your tongue. There is a lady present.”
“ ’Tis only Merry,” Jason exclaimed. “She’s heard far worse from both of us over the years and has yet to be offended. You forget, she is a married woman now and therefore even harder to shock.”
“Meredith is a lady who would naturally find offense at such off-color language. But her reaction is only a part of the problem.” Jasper glanced about meaningfully. “What if someone had overheard you? Language of that sort is far better suited to Gentleman Jackson’s boxing salon, not a ballroom.”
“Reforming one’s character is a noble effort, but you are fast becoming a prig of the first water,” Jason ground out.
The men turned toward each other and stood toe to toe. While Meredith had initially enjoyed the distraction of their bickering, she determined it was time to intercede.
“Ah, look—there’s a waiter with a tray of filled champagne glasses. Would you fetch me a glass please, Jasper?”
Neither brother moved. Nor blinked.
“Please, Jasper,” Meredith repeated. With obvious reluctance he shifted his attention to her. Yet he did not move so much as an inch.
Jasper’s stony glare told Meredith he wanted nothing more than to refuse her request, but she had not successfully managed her high-spirited brothers for so many years without learning a thing or two. Meredith kept her expression innocent, yet determined. In less than twenty seconds Jasper strode off to do her bidding.
“I’m sorry.” Jason’s face assumed a baleful look. “I did not mean to insult you with my coarse language.”
“In truth, I was not offended, but please do not tell Jasper, else he shall start lecturing us both.” Meredith bent her head and murmured in her brother’s ear, “If he keeps this up, he will be impossible to live with by the end of the Season.”
Jason broke into hearty laughter. “You are a gem, Meredith. Most women would be near to fainting at our behavior tonight. Dardington’s a damned lucky man to have a woman as fine as you for a wife,” he said sincerely.
Meredith worked to muster a smile, biting back the taste of regret, not wanting to dwell on whether or not her husband believed himself to be a lucky man. “Supper will be served within the hour. You must tell me all you know about this incomparable young woman you are determined to meet. If we can manage an introduction soon, you might be able to escort her to supper.”
Meredith’s distraction worked exactly the way she had hoped. Jason soon dropped any discussion of her husband and waxed eloquent about the young woman.
“ ’Tis just my luck this beauty has such a diligent watchdog,” Jason said in a disgusted tone. “Why is it that the more alluring females are never accompanied by elderly, nearly deaf matrons who prefer to gossip amongst themselves before overindulging in the rich food on the buffet? Then two glasses of champagne later they are dozing off in a corner while their charges are left to fend for themselves.”
BOOK: To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)
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