“My lady,” he returned with a slow incline of his head. “I have one thing to take care of before our escape can truly begin, so I must step out. It may take me an hour or so.”
Merritt blinked. “Oh. Well, we’re almost finished here, so I suppose that will give me a bit of time to myself.”
He nodded. “Yes. And I’ll hurry back.”
She wrinkled her brow, as if she sensed he wasn’t being completely honest. Trust her to notice even the tiniest changes that would reveal him. But she didn’t address the issue and merely nodded. “Then I’ll see you shortly. Be careful.”
He inclined his head again and exited the room and down the stairs to leave the house. A horse was waiting for him there, and Elliot smiled, even as his heart throbbed with nervousness.
He had so many plans for Merritt in the next seven days. And once he was gone, the first step in those plans would commence. He only hoped that everything would work out as he hoped. Because if it went wrong, it could well go very wrong, indeed.
* * *
Merritt
Merritt moved around the bedchamber she would share with Elliot for the next week and shivered as she placed candles and checked drawers to make sure everything they needed was in its proper place. Cora was still here, of course, but this was not a duty for her, and so she’d sent the maid downstairs to help with whatever the other servants were doing.
What Merritt was readying was private…intimate.
Normally she would only focus on the anticipatory thrill such preparation stirred in her body, but in that moment she was troubled. Elliot had always been difficult to read. In truth, that had been one of the things that drew her to him. While all the other men grasping for her hand and the fortune that went along with it talked and talked and talked, Elliot had often only speared her with that dark gaze.
And made more promises with his eyes than he ever made with his lips. Her attraction to him had been immediate and powerful and…troubling at first, for so many reasons. And yet she hadn’t been able to resist him and his relentless drive to have her. Their marriage, though one ostensibly of convenience to start, had transformed rapidly into one of deep passion and true companionship.
She knew him, even with all his secrets. And today he had been keeping something from her. She’d seen it in the dart of his gaze, in the flex of his hand at his side. His little tells, ones she’d observed over the years and memorized.
What were his plans? And why did they feel so…dangerous?
There was a light rap on the partially closed door and she turned to find Cora had returned. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but you’ve a caller.”
Merritt drew back in surprise and confusion. “A—a caller?Here?”
“Yes. He’s awaiting you in the parlor.”
Merritt shook her head and started downstairs, her mind racing. A gentleman caller at that. It could be one of the neighboring gentry, of course, having heard that the marquess and his wife were visiting. She would have to hurry him along so that she would have Elliot to herself when he returned.
“He says he was asked by the marquess, my lady,” Cora added as they reached the hall.
Merritt jerked her face toward Cora. “Does he?” she asked. “Well, that is surprising.”
Who would Elliot call here as an interruption to their week of sin and pleasure? It made no sense.
She nodded to Cora. “Go ahead and finish with the rest. Unless I ring for you, assume you can depart when you originally planned.”
“Leave you alone with a stranger?” Cora asked, blinking.
“Egerton will be back presently,” Merritt pointed out. “And Iwillring if I’m uncomfortable and would like a buffer.”
“Yes, my lady,” Cora said, and shot her one last concerned look before she moved along.
Merritt smoothed her hands along her gown before she opened the door and stepped in to greet the intruder who had come here. She took three steps into the room and then stopped short to stare at the beautiful man at the mantel. He had blond hair, a hint of scruff on perfectly angled cheeks, bright green eyes and the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen.
A mouth she had intimate knowledge of, even if it was over a decade before. She fought to find her voice and somehow managed to choke out, “P-Peter.”
The color had left his face when she entered the parlor and he moved a long step toward her, closing a bit of the distance that was between them. “Merry,” he breathed, then shook his head. “What in the world are you doing here?”
CHAPTER2
Peter
