He could stand it no more. He took her face in both hands, drawing her to his mouth, where he kissed her hard, insisting she open to him and she did, her own hands wrapping about theback of his neck to draw him closer, too, as his tongue searched and found hers willing.
They kissed greedily, then tenderly almost, before he wrenched himself away and fled the room, quickly donning his coat to head straight outside into the swirling, white-cold air, to where he might at last catch his breath.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Dearest Charles,Eleanor’s letter began as they all did. Wells settled into his seat by the fire to read.
No doubt Christmas at the Abbey was a sight to behold for all the effort you wrote of. Our own celebration was quiet, though John’s presence brought merriment this year. He truly is the sweetest man, and I admit I miss him already, though he sits here as I write. He leaves tomorrow as he believes it safe again to travel. Though I fear there is another reason he is now eager to leave, a reason you will think I should regret, but I do not. I regret it not a bit. I kissed him, you see, just his hand, nothing more. It was all very chaste. Only then he kissed me back, Charles, and it was glorious, his kiss! It was as if the world stopped and there were no other souls on earth but he and me.
You are surely angry, sister, but I do not care if you are. I must be honest with myself and with you. I am in love with John Cuthbert, and nothing you say will alter my feelings towards him. I do not know if he loves me in return, but even if he shouldn’t, it is the most remarkable, wonderful, feeling, Charles. Someday you will experience it too, I amsure, but until then believe me when I tell you nothing can compare to such a kiss. Nothing!
Wells paused in his reading, for it felt like a breach of confidence to read so intimate a declaration from Eleanor Merrinan regarding his steward, John Cuthbert. He was taken aback by both her passion and innocence; Charles had indeed managed to hide much from her sister. Yet Eleanor’s heartfelt sentiment towards Cuthbert also struck a nerve. Wells worried his steward might in truth be in love with the girl—Charles would not be pleased. Nor did he want John rushing into marriage, stolen from him when he needed him here at the Abbey. He was his righthand man. He trusted John with his life, could not imagine lifewithouthim, truth be told.
With a sigh he read on.
So that is my news, judge me as you see fit. I understand now why Mama left her family to be with Papa. There is no stronger pull in all the world, Charles. And only think, sister, had our parents not eloped, there’d be no you or me. So in the end, what is wrong and what is right is only our perception in the moment, is it not? I am not ashamed to have kissed John Cuthbert. No one can tell me something so wonderful could possibly be so wrong.
Write to me soon, Charles, or better yet, now that the snow is passable come see us, please. It would do Papa good, and as for me, I need you more than ever, for no one counsels so well as you. Only do not counsel me from John, I could not bear it. Do not tell me I am foolish and naïve, as I know I am both and frankly do not care.
Love, Charles, cannot be ignored. I will embrace it.
Ever yours, Eleanor
Wells folded the letter, glad for once that Cuthbert did not read these missives too. Should he broach the matter with Charles, or let her come to him? He wasn’t sure how she’d react to her sister’s declaration, but he suspected that if he now forbade Cuthbert to visit Eleanor Merrinan the man would outright revolt. He’d known John long enough to recognize when not to cross him.
No. Any interference in this would have to come from Charles herself regarding her sister.
These Merrinan girls are trouble indeed,he thought to himself. And yet, for all the trouble they were, there was something about the two . . . It was absurd, almost, that he and John should both gravitate to these two sisters.
“Oi, sir, ’twere a humble celebration, but Miss Eleanor and her father are well stocked for winter. Had the snow not come on so hard I’d like as not’ve made me way back in time.”
Wells had called for Cuthbert to report on his absence. They were alone in the parlor as he did not wish their conversation overheard.
“John, I do not blame you for the storm. I wish only that you’d been here to witness the pudding debacle and Pinky’s wassail disgrace. I must say it was rather lively here that night.” Wells smiled to recall the evening.
Cuthbert eyed him closely. “And Miss Merrinan, sir? How’d she take all the upset? I imagine she were right peeved t’ see her hard work unravel afore her eyes.”
“She came around, John.” Wells smiled to himself. “I think she’s settled in nicely as housekeeper.”
“Has she now?” His man’s eyes sparked. “Think you’ve tamed her then, Yer Grace?”
Wells frowned at his steward’s needling. “Yes, John, I believe I have. She serves me well and willingly now in both capacities.”
Cuthbert snorted.
“And may I ask how you got along with her sister, the lovely Miss Eleanor, trapped as you were in that house with barely a fitting chaperone in her father?” It was time to pry.
“Fine, sir,” his steward grumbled, looking down.
“Nothing untoward happen, did it, John?”
“No, sir,” the man mumbled, clearly itching to leave.
“Good. Because if word got out that any man of mine took advantage of a village girl?—”
Cuthbert suddenly met Wellesley’s eyes. “Oi, and you’re one to talk.”
“John Iamone to talk.” He remained stern. “My agreement with Charles is quite different and you know it.”
