Chapter Fifteen
Tia eagerly looked forward to the last of today’s callers leaving since she was to have tea with Lady Dilly.
They had only grown closer over the weeks since the Season began.
While no one would ever replace Lia as her most trusted confidante, Tia willingly shared much with Lady Dilly, who was mad for Lord Forsythe.
Tia was looking forward to the day the earl would offer for her friend so that she could help with the wedding preparations.
“I really must go and lie down,” Eden said, yawning. “If I am to stay awake for this evening’s musicale, I will need a nap. Enjoy your tea with Lady Dilly, Tia.”
Val followed his wife from the drawing room, and Tia couldn’t help but wonder if Eden would have a chance to nap or not.
She had caught her brother and his wife kissing upon numerous occasions from the time they wed.
She smiled, happy that her only brother was so satisfied in his marriage, and also grateful that Eden had become a good friend to her.
“I am off to tea with Lady Swarthmore,” Mama said. “She will want to share with me all that happened at her card party last evening.”
“Why did you not go, Mama?” Tia asked.
“And miss a fabulous tea and the cakes her cook bakes? Lady Swarthmore can tell me all about her guests while we have our tea, and I did not have to waste hours of my time last night. I have never been fond of cards.”
She thought it was because her father had been so fond of them that her mother had a dislike for any kind of card game.
“Enjoy your time with Lady Swarthmore,” she said. “I must go see which of the footmen can escort me to tea.”
“Oh, I can take you to Lord Merriman’s townhouse on my way to Lady Swarthmore’s,” Mama said. “Have one of their maids see you safely home afterward.”
While Tia had been perfectly willing to walk, the day was unseasonably warm, so she agreed to share a ride with her mother. Their coachman deposited her at the Merriman townhouse and did not drive off until he saw the butler admitting her.
Inside, however, she learned that Lady Dilly and Lady Merriman had yet to return from a dress fitting.
“I can wait in the drawing room for them. Or even the parlor. Whichever is more convenient, Coggins.”
The butler informed her the drawing room was currently unoccupied, and she told him, “I will make my way there. No need to trouble yourself.”
She mounted the stairs and headed for the drawing room.
Until an unusual melody caused her to veer from her destination.
Tia went and stood in the doorway of what she gathered was the music room.
Lord Merriman was at the keys, his fingers flying across the ivories, lost to the world around him.
She found herself entering the room and going to stand near him, watching his long, lean fingers dance along the keys.
Though she had heard him perform previously, she was entranced now.
When he finished less than a minute later, she gasped. “That was incredible!”
He looked over his shoulder, looking startled to see her. “Wh-what are you . . . doing here?”
Wanting things not to be awkward between them, she said, “Apparently listening to you play better than anyone I have heard. Who is the composer?”
“Domenico Scarlatti. A contemporary of Handel. His works bridge the Baroque and Classical Eras.”
“And the piece?”
“Keyboard Sonata in D Minor. One of . . . his most famous . . . works.”
Tia noticed he had a habit of speaking very deliberately, even pausing often.
“Well, you played it wonderfully, my lord. I could sit and listen to you all day. You bring such joy to your playing, and that joy is spread to those who listen to you.”
A pained expression crossed his face, and she gathered he was thinking of the hurtful comment he had made to her the night he and his family came to dinner.
“Do not worry, Lord Merriman. I am over the unfortunate remark you made to me. I fear I will never play even a tenth as well as you do. As I mentioned before, I have to concentrate on the finger patterns in a pianoforte piece. You, on the other hand, seem to absorb those patterns whole and interpret them in new ways.”
Rising, he said, “I am blessed. To have a true ear for music. It has gotten me through many… trials and tribulations.”
“Have you always played?”
“I only started when I was ten and eight, which was five years ago. Matthew—Reddington—challenged me to learn, and so I took up the instrument.”
She shook her head in wonder. “I have played since I was six or seven, and I will never reach your level of accomplishment.”
He smiled wryly. “I have practiced quite a bit . . . since I took up the pianoforte. Quite a bit since we came to town for the Season. Playing brings me comfort.”
“You are not very comfortable at social affairs. At least that is what I have observed,” she ventured. “At first, I believed you to be arrogant. Standoffish. A man who thought he was better than others around him.”
The earl shook his head. “That is far from the truth, Lady Tia. I am reserved. If I am quiet, it is because . . . I believe I have nothing to contribute to a conversation.”
She studied him a moment. “You do not speak often. I notice you ask questions of others and allow them to talk about themselves at length. Is that so you do not have to share things about yourself with anyone? Or is there another reason you do not wish to draw attention to yourself?”
He gazed down at her a long moment. “You see more than most others do. I . . . am not very . . . interesting. I would rather hear about others. You are correct . . . in believing I ask questions to place attention away from me.”
“I am sorry I misjudged you.”
Lord Merriman nodded. “I also misjudged you. I thought you . . . would be a poor influence on Dilly.”
“Me, a poor influence? Why on earth would you believe that, my lord?”
He smiled. “It does not matter now. I realize how close you two are. You are the sister she never had.”
“I felt perfectly comfortable with her the first time we met at Madame Laurent’s dress shop. Lady Dilly was a breath of fresh air. While I had wanted to enjoy all the social events of the Season, I was most looking forward to making new friends. I have done so with her.”
“What of finding a . . . husband?” he challenged. “Isn’t that what is most important?”
“Not to me,” she admitted. “My three siblings all made love matches. They expect me to do the same, but in all honesty? Most of the eligible bachelors I have been introduced to simply bore me to tears. They say the same things, over and over, without any meaningful dialogue.”
She moved away from him, roaming the room now, coming to stand before the windows which looked out on the square below.
“My biggest fear is that they only come to call on me or sign my dance programme because I am the sister to a duke, and they want to unite their family with ours for that reason alone. Or they see my hefty dowry as more attractive to them than I am and give me pretty compliments which they do not mean.”
Suddenly, she sensed him behind her, body heat radiating from him.
His arm snaked around her waist, pinning her to him, even as his lips brushed against her nape.
A sigh escaped from her, and he kept kissing her nape.
His mouth moved to the side of her neck.
She tilted it to one side in order to give him better access.
His kisses brought a shiver to her spine, and the place between her legs began to throb painfully.
“There are those who might wish for . . . an alliance with your brother,” he said, his lips gliding. Nibbling. Then biting, causing her to gasp. He soothed the place with his tongue, and she gripped his forearm to keep from folding.
“It is hard for a women to read a man’s intentions,” she managed to get out, wondering exactly what his were toward her, and yet not caring as long as he kept kissing her. She had known men and women kissed on the lips, but she was learning kisses elsewhere could also be pleasurable.
Tia inhaled his bergamot scent, knowing she would forever associate it with this man. Wondering why she was attracted to him when she knew so little about him.
His lips left her neck, and his arm fell away. Boldly, she spun, wrapping her arms about him.
“You might be through with me—but I am not through with you.”
His gray eyes darkened, and his mouth descended to hers.
The kiss was greedy from the start, demanding that she give everything to him.
She recalled the lessons he had taught her during their prior kiss, and now she was the one to tease his mouth open, slipping her tongue inside, tasting him.
Tia began to tremble, and his arms came about her, steadying her.
She realized she trembled in need. In want.
In desire . . .
They both fought for command of the kiss, a thoroughly enjoyable battle she would be happy to engage in at any time.
Her nipples began aching as they rubbed against his chest, suddenly sensitive, eager for his touch.
Somehow, he seemed to read her mind. He slipped a hand inside her bodice, his fingers hot as they caressed her breast. His thumb found her nipple, and he dragged the pad of it slowly back and forth, causing it to peak.
Her heart seemed to want to burst from her chest, and she felt something hard between them.
Curious, she slid her hand along his hip and moved it between them, realizing it was his manhood which had swelled. Her fingertips grazed it. Even with his trousers between his cock and her fingers, she could feel its heat as he groaned into her mouth.
He broke the kiss, looking down at her, questions in his eyes. She had questions herself.
For both him—and her.
“Why did you kiss me again?” she asked, not ready to look inside herself for an answer she was uncertain about.