Chapter 3 #2
Suzannah then pointed out the gentleman leaning on the railing of the box, laughing at someone’s joke.
“That’s Viscount Wyndham. His charm is dangerous, but he will protect you with his life if he knows you are with Darius.
I believe he might be courting a ballet dancer…
or was it an opera girl? I can never remember. ” She laughed lightly.
“What do you mean if he knows I’m with Darius?” Meredith focused on the two words.
“If you are under his protection as his ward. Like a sister perhaps, but not related by blood. Vincent will do anything to protect you.”
Sister? Meredith blushed. She certainly did not think of Darius as a brother. If anything, her mind and body seemed quite determined to see him as an attractive man and a true temptation, even though they were still strangers to one another. She returned her focus to Darius’s friends.
“What of the blond gentleman next to Vincent?”
“Felix Hawkins, the Marquess of Grey,” Suzannah said.
“And that last man, the one who looks like he is frowning, that is Warren Burrville. He seems to find trouble far too easily, but for the best of reasons. You will like all of them, I assure you,” Suzannah promised and chuckled.
“They are intimidating at first, but I think you will come to adore them as I do.”
Meredith sighed. “I feel like a newborn child. I know nothing of life in London or what it means to be the ward of the Duke. I don’t even know about His Grace’s family. Uncle Ben didn’t tell me much.”
“Well, Darius is an only child. His mother died when he was a boy. She suffered some terrible fever, or so I’ve heard. His father passed away a few years ago. His only relative now is his cousin.”
“Harry,” Meredith said with a nod.
“Yes, the one you said who propositioned you.” Suzannah frowned.
“Meredith, you must be careful. You were sent here to find a match, but there are many men in London who think like Mr. St. John. They will attempt to take advantage of you simply because they do not believe a woman in your position has the right to refuse them. But you can say no. All women should be able to.”
“What if they don’t listen?” Meredith asked quietly.
She’d been reliving that moment with Harry over and over on the last five days.
She realized how lucky she’d been that he let her go.
He’d been strong enough to overpower her, but he hadn’t.
Whether it was because he had some sliver of morals in him or because his father hadn’t yet passed, she did not know.
“Then you fight,” Suzannah said. “You should ask Darius to teach you. He is quite skilled at fighting. He even works with the Bow Street Runners from time to time.”
“He does?” That shocked Meredith.
“He is not a Runner, of course, but he helps them on cases. You should ask about that.”
A hush fell on the crowd as the intermission ended.
The play resumed a few moments later. Darius and Kit returned the box just in time.
Darius’s presence put Meredith at ease. She’d only known the man a few hours, but already she felt safe around him.
His presence also thrilled her in a way she never felt before.
Silly little imaginings kept popping in her head.
She imagined him leaning forward so he could whisper to her again, and feeling his warm breath across the nape of her neck.
By the end of the play, Meredith was quite tired. Her travels had finally caught up with her. After she bid Kit and Suzannah goodbye, Darius escorted her to his coach. She sat on one side and he sat facing her again.
“Well? What did you think of the play?”
“It was magnificent.” She yawned, and Darius laughed.
“Oh dear. You must be dead on your feet. I’ll take you home at once, put you to bed.” He paused. “Tomorrow, I suppose it will be a day of shopping and whatever else is needed to prepare you for your London debut. I must meet with Suzannah to have her advice on hiring a companion for you.”
She struggled to stay awake and focus. “A companion?”
“Yes. It was pointed out to me this evening that as we are not blood related, I must have a companion, a female, to escort you about and live with us at the house as a chaperone.”
For some reason warmth curled in her belly at the way he said “with us.”
“Rest now, Miss Montague. I shall wake you when we arrive home.”
Home. It sounded so lovely when he said it with that deep, rich voice.
“Please call me Meredith,” she got out between yawns.
“Only if you call me Darius. We are family, and I believe society will allow us that intimacy at least.”
“I quite agree…” she yawned again, “Darius.”
* * *
Darius knew the exact moment Meredith drifted to sleep. Her head, nestled in the corner of the coach, sank even deeper into the cushioned walls. A heavy sigh escaped her as though her body had at last surrendered to its great need to rest.
Five days in the stagecoach, only one night in a proper bed, and she had done it all on her own.
She was a capable woman, he would give her that, but even capable women were in danger when they traveled alone.
He wished he could have been there at Uncle Ben’s passing, to say his goodbyes and see Meredith safely and comfortably brought to his home here in London.
What had kept his uncle from writing to them sooner? Pride, perhaps. Pride and a deep regret. The last time they had spoken had been painful. They both said things they regretted.
Two years ago, Uncle Ben had been in London to visit Darius. Darius had been trying to speak about Henry’s exploits, and how his uncle needed to take Harry in hand. Uncle Ben had turned the arguing to Darius’ own activities, namely those of his involvement with the Bow Street runners.
“You’re a duke now. You cannot simply run off into the night, flying headlong into danger whenever you wish. It is time you settle down, find a duchess and produce an heir and a spare, just as your father did.”
To which Darius had replied. “At least I spend my time in services to others, which is more than I can say for your son.”
Uncle Ben had stared him at coldly, his blue eyes just like Darius’s, as he responded with the last words of their fight. “And when you get yourself killed… Harry will have your home and title. Think of all that he could ruin because you want to play the hero.”
The worst of it was that Uncle Ben was right. Darius loved to play the hero, loved to throw himself into a fight when someone needed help. It had almost killed him recently when he’d tried to save Suzannah from being abducted and murdered.
His shoulder still ached where he’d been shot, and his stomach was knotted with scar tissue from a knife wound which sometimes made walking, hell, even breathing hard. He had to use a cane on occasion when the pain that shot down his leg became too much to bear.
But it had been worth it. Kit and Suzannah had been in danger, and he put himself between Suzannah and death.
But it didn’t change the fact that Uncle Benjamin was right.
Before, he’d had no one who needed him to be safe, to be responsible…
Until now. The only thing that was a balm to his wounded heart was knowing that in his final hours, Uncle Ben had still trusted Darius with the thing be believed to be most precious… Meredith.
He turned to Meredith’s sleeping form, and his lips curled into a smile.
For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
Yes, he had his friends, and they were a huge part of his life, but there was still a part of himself he had keep in reserve, hidden from everyone.
Something about Meredith made him want to open that part of himself up, share his secrets, thoughts and dreams with her.
Was it because she was so like him in that way?
Having to live a life that didn’t seem to fully fit one’s heart?
I’m certainly not alone. At least, not right now.
He would have to see her married off soon, but for now, he had a companion. She was a grown woman who did not need a guardian, but he would abide by his uncle’s wishes. And for now, that made Meredith Montague his.
The coach stopped in front of his home, but he didn’t have the heart to wake Meredith.
The coach door opened, and he held a finger to his lips up at the footman, indicating the man should remain quiet.
Darius scooped Meredith up in his arms and carried her from the coach.
Despite the pain in his shoulder, he liked the weight and feel of Meredith in his arms.
Mr. Chelsea met them at the open door.
“Do you have the Seaside room ready for her?” Darius asked.
“Yes, Your Grace. Nell is waiting to put her to bed.”
“Excellent. Send a note to Lady Kentwell. Ask her to meet me here for breakfast tomorrow so we can discuss hiring a lady’s companion for Miss Montague.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Chelsea, bless the man, didn’t question the propriety of Darius carrying a sleeping woman upstairs.
Darius proceeded upstairs to the Seaside room. The blankets had been turned down in anticipation of Meredith’s return. He settled his charge on the bed and she roused enough to blink at him slowly, her dark lashes fanning up and down over her lovely hazel eyes.
“I could kiss you,” Meredith murmured dreamily.
“Could you?” He found himself teasing her with a grin. He guessed that she was half-asleep, possibly even dreaming given her expression and her barely open eyes.
“Hmm…” she almost purred. “But I’ve never kissed a man before… I fear I might be dreadful at it.”
“I doubt that. Ladies tend to be natural kissers.” He reached over her to fluff the pillow behind her head.
Suddenly, she reached up and curled her fingers in his cravat, pulling him down to her.
He nearly fell on top of her, but braced one of his arms on the pillows beside her in the nick of time. And then…
It all happened too fast, their lips brushing against each other and that sweet perfume of hers blended with the taste of oranges and innocence on her lips.
His heart clenched as something within him filled with sunlight, pouring a quiet, exquisite joy through his body and into the depths of his very soul.
He couldn’t resist the temptation of kissing her back. At that moment, he did not care that it crossed a line. She was in his care, but she was also a grown woman with a sound mind and no blood relation to him. And she had kissed him first.
Lord, the taste of her was intoxicating. When her soft lips parted, a sigh broke away from her lips. He opened his eyes, and was startled to find she’d fallen asleep.
Well…that was a first for him. His kisses had never put a woman to sleep before.
Darius frowned as he studied Meredith’s sleeping face before he bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
An unexpected wave of tenderness filled him.
No wonder his uncle had cared for this woman.
There was something about her, like the pull of gravity that drew him to her and made him desire to hold onto her forever.
“Your Grace?” the maid said softly as she entered the bedchamber, bearing a pitcher of water and a glass on a tray.
“Ahh, Nell, thank you.” Darius hastily backed away from the bed.
“Please let Miss Montague sleep late tomorrow. If you do not mind, I would like to elevate you to be her lady’s maid.
I can hire someone to see to your duties.
” He gingerly touched his cravat. Part of the once carefully folded cloth had come undone when Meredith grabbed him. Had the maid noticed?
Nell’s gaze thankfully wasn’t on him or his somewhat mussed wardrobe.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I would be honored to tend to Miss Montague.”
“Excellent. Right, well… I’ll be off then. You may undress her.”
Darius fled the room, but the taste of Meredith’s kiss was imprinted on his lips forever.