Free Patricia Rice by Dash of Enchantment

lifting her haughty nose in the air to
shift her spectacles up. Merrick was aware that his cravat was mussed and his
hair disheveled, and her knowing look almost caused him shame. Almost.
    “Balderdash, Merrick. I know an unseemly situation when I
see one, and this one is beyond unseemly. As much as I hate to admit it, I must
assume you are the injured party, however.”
    She cast a look to Cassandra, who—now that the guests had
departed—had finally returned her feet to the floor. Matilda sniffed at
Cassandra’s still-stunned expression, then returned her gaze to the earl. “However,
you are old enough to know better, Merrick. I suggest you leave tonight, before
that shrewish fiancée of yours decides hysterics are in order.”
    “That would be cowardly, my lady,” Wyatt murmured, although
he heartily wished he could take the coward’s way out. He knew Catherine of
old. One of her temper tantrums was not a pretty sight. “I must apologize and
make my explanations to the lady. I think it would be best if I escorted you
and Lady Cassandra back to London in the morning.”
    Matilda snorted. “Let Cassandra pay the price of this
escapade. She has been given entirely too much freedom in the past. It is time
she faces the consequences of her rash actions. She will apologize to
Catherine. You will write her a brief note of explanation and tell her you will
understand if she calls the engagement off. You will be in a ticklish situation
until she does, but it’s no matter. She’ll come around. Just don’t let that
young Howard wastrel rob you of more than is proper. He will only gamble it
away.”
    Merrick was unable to find a respectful manner in which to
argue with the elderly lady. He lifted his gaze to Cassandra’s bewildered
beauty, and felt a sharp ache of desire at the thought of possessing such a
fiery creature. He ought to be ashamed of himself, but he only felt triumph, as
if his life of respectability had finally been rewarded.
    Approaching Cassandra, Wyatt took her cold hand and bowed
formally over it before gazing into the depths of her iridescent eyes. He had
thought them blue, but now he saw they contained all the aquas and greens and
midnight colors of the ocean.
    “I will come to call as soon as you return to town, my lady.
There are a number of things we will need to discuss.”
    “I’m sorry, Merrick,” she whispered brokenly.
    “I’m not,” he heard himself saying, to his own horror. She
was a lying, conniving, scheming little witch who would make his life hell. And
the thought of her in his bed made his blood race. He had married for all the
right reasons the first time and found no happiness. Why not marry for all the
wrong reasons and at least obtain some small measure of pleasure?
    Cassandra offered him a startled look before lowering her
lashes. Merrick imagined he’d given her something to think about in the days to
come. He had no idea if she was a virgin or not, and to his own surprise he
really did not care.
    Feeling much as if he had just gained wings and been caught
in a hurricane wind, Merrick bowed and left the ladies alone. He needed time to
learn the vagaries of this wind that carried him. He suspected Cassandra needed
time to acquaint herself with the ball and chain she had just acquired. He
envisioned troubled days ahead, but the nights...
    Remembering those impassioned kisses, Merrick admitted the
nights would be worth every bit of trouble she had caused. If he could keep her
to himself.

Chapter 6
    Duncan Howard looked liked death warmed over, Merrick
observed as he entered the study of the marquess’s home the next afternoon.
Duncan was a year or two younger than himself. They had more or less grown up together
until Merrick had inherited his estate at the age of twelve.
    Duncan had gone the idle way of his titled peers who had
naught to do but wait for their fathers to pass on. Merrick had taken up the
reins of an estate so large he had not known the boundaries or extent