Chapter Three
“I believe it is nothing more than exhaustion, Miss Meriwether.” The village doctor put away his instruments and turned to her solemnly. “But you must understand that he is of an age where certain ailments might strike more often. It is imperative, for his health, that you discourage him from venturing such long distances from now on, and to keep his visits within the village. His faith is best served when he is still on the earth with us.”
“Yes, of course, Dr. Meyer,” Dove returned softly. After the doctor prescribed bed rest and a restorative tea, she escorted him back downstairs, from where he took his leave.
She shut the door with a heavy sigh. She had long noticed that her father was working himself entirely too much, traveling farther and farther to pray with those who needed him, but it was starting to come at the cost of his own health. Dove didn’t wish to be selfish, but she wasn’t sure what would become of her if he passed. She had no other family to turn to, and while she might be able to prevail upon the charity of others for a time, it wasn’t something she was looking forward to doing, nor would it last forever.
The time had come where she had to start thinking of her own future.
“How are you doing?”
She turned to see Viscount Markel standing in the doorway of her parlor with his arms crossed and a slight furrow on his brow. He looked so tall and… intimidating standing there, so out of place, that his overwhelming presence quite took her breath for a moment. She clasped her hands together in front of her and adopted her usual mien, the one she had chosen when addressing the congregation in the past. “Thank you for helping my father back home, my lord, but as you can see, he is not fit to offer absolution at the moment. As I suggested earlier today it might be best if you continued on to Coventry, otherwise you might be waiting longer than you were anticipating.”
Dove waited, because she could see that the viscount was considering her words. In the end, he surprised her by saying, “Indeed, you are correct that it could be some time before the vicar is well enough to attend to me, but I don’t mind waiting a few days until he is recovered. Frankly, I would be worried about his health should I leave now. I believe that I shall take Mrs. Decker up on her offer to let a room at the inn.”
“Of… course. If that’s what you wish.” Dove wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that. She certainly hadn’t been expecting it. She thought for sure he would be like any other entitled lord and continue on his way, eager to pray away his sins before eagerly committing them again in London. But this man was different. It was as if he truly was concerned, and not only over her father.
He inclined his head. “I will take my leave of you now and make the necessary arrangements with Mrs. Decker.” He walked forward and grasped her hand then brought it upward and pressed a gentle kiss along her bare knuckles.
Instantly, a shock of awareness shot up her arm.
“Good day, Miss Meriwether.”
That night, in his temporary rooms, Cain lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head and stared at the stark white ceiling above him. Mrs. Decker had been more than accommodating to his needs, ensuring that a steaming, hot bath was prepared for him as well as tea and several delicacies for his choosing. Much more time in the lady’s presence and he would surely gain a stone or two.
He couldn’t recollect a time when someone had actually cared so much for his comfort, just because he was a human being. While his title went far to see closed doors opened to him, he was aware that although Mrs. Decker was treating him kindly because he was a member of the peerage, that wasn’t the only reason. She would likely treat a simple pauper the same way. It was what he’d always liked about the country hamlets. They were so far removed from the chaos in larger towns, where people were eager to smile in your face one moment, and then turn around and step over your wounded body in the street the next.
But it was Miss Dove Meriwether that had been the most enticing surprise. She was pure and innocent and—everything he should avoid. He sighed.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t make himself get on his horse and ride out of Meriden without exploring the lady in more detail. Not only had the attraction been immediate, but he believed it was the same for her. When he’d kissed her hand farewell, he’d caught the hitch in her breathing, had seen her skin flush with color. And while Cain had enjoyed his share of liaisons, none of the previous women he’d bedded had kept his thoughts longer than the mutual satisfaction. Yet, here he was, at nearly three in the morning, and wide awake because he couldn’t get that light golden hair out of his mind.
He slipped one of his hands under the sheets and told himself it was a good thing he slept nude.
As Cain stroked his partially erect cock, he closed his eyes and pictured Dove in the room with him. She would place her soft hand on his chest and look at him with those wide, blue eyes and then slowly remove her clothes. He groaned, imagining her breasts when they were revealed, their tight peaks just aching for his mouth to suck them. He obliged, teasing one fleshy globe, and then the other, while she made little mewling sounds of desire. He was fully hard now and his teeth clenched as his fantasy continued to grow.
Next, he would kiss his way down further, past her ribcage and her navel, over the curve of her hip and along her thighs, until he found the center of her desire. There, he would tease and torment her with his tongue, until she convulsed. While she was still wet and sated, he would crawl back up her body and kiss her passionately as he slowly slipped his cock into her, every slow inch a painful pleasure.
His strokes became more fervent as he cupped her breasts in his imagination, squeezing them lightly as he began a rhythmic thrust and retreat. Each time he pulled away, she would moan in anticipation, and when he seated himself fully into her body, she would sigh with bliss, the pleasure already starting to build again…
Beads of sweat broke out on Cain’s forehead as his legs stiffened seconds before he erupted. He lay there for a moment as he attempted to catch his breath, and then he reached for the handkerchief that was on the side table and cleaned himself. Afterward, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. Although what he’d just done was supposed to calm him down in order to think more clearly, it had actually unnerved him. The orgasm he’d just experienced was powerful and like nothing he’d ever had before, at his hand or from another.
He shoved his palm through his hair and stood. He donned a pair of trousers and his shirt, realizing that there would be no sleep that night.
It was time for a drink instead.
Dove was standing on a stool, reaching for a pitcher on the top shelf in the kitchen when there was a knock at the front door. She muttered something under her breath that her father would likely not approve of as she abandoned her task and went to answer the latest summons. All morning it had been thus. She was grateful that the villagers had expressed an interest in her father’s health by calling to see how he was doing, some of them even offering their own herbal remedies, but it was difficult to get anything done when she was continuously attending to the latest visitor.
Nevertheless, she put a welcoming smile on her face as she prepared to greet their guest. She clutched the latch in her hand with a white-knuckled grip when she saw Viscount Markel standing on the other side. When they had parted ways the day before, he had told her that he had planned to remain, but she hadn’t really believed it. No one generally stayed long in Meriden.
“My lord.” She dipped into a slight curtsy and moved aside for him to enter.
He offered her a dazzling grin that put the sun shining outside to shame as he walked through the door. He was dressed in black trousers and boots, an emerald waistcoat and jacket that perfectly brought out the bits of emerald in his eyes and complimented his mahogany hair. “Good day, Miss Meriwether. I assume your father is doing well?”
“Yes, he is. Thank you for asking.” She hid her hands within the folds of her skirts, that dreaded, awkward pause interceding. She had never been much for small talk when it wasn’t something about the church or her duties as a vicar’s daughter. Standing in front of this devastatingly, handsome man, she was even more unsure of herself. “Would you care for some tea?” she blurted finally.
His grin widened. “I would love some. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. I’ll just put a kettle on.” She was actually grateful for the chance to have something to do that would take her farther away from him. “Feel free to wait in the parlor and I’ll bring out a tray.”
