LuckySilver (5 page)

“No. I just—no, everything is fine.”

Rhys gave her a stern appraisal, mentally promising to
question her further at a more opportune time—if he was able to keep his hands
off her long enough. At the moment, half the house was clamoring for his
attention.

With Marissa on his arm, he strode into the drawing room.
His mother was directing a footman to load the side table with breakfast foods.
She straightened up when she saw him, giving Marissa a speculative look.

“Rhys. I am relieved you are well.”

“Thank you. Mother, allow me to introduce Miss Marissa
Blythe. Marissa, this is my mother, the Lady Montford.”

“Your chaperone, Harriet, has told me much about you.” Lady
Montford glanced casually at several shamelessly eavesdropping young ladies and
raised her voice ever so slightly. “Although you are from the Americas, I hear
you are quite wealthy and come from a respected family.”

“Yes, my lady. I am thrilled to visit England. I only hope I
might venture over the border to explore Wales someday.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mother’s lips as
Rhys watched her warm to Marissa, as he hoped she would all along. “Well, your
visit has been quite an unorthodox one, Miss Blythe. Still, I am pleased to
welcome you to Montford Hall. Shall we find somewhere quiet to retire and have
a cup of tea?”

“I would like that.”

Rhys watched them go as a gaggle of ladies built up around
him, many casting venomous glares in Marissa’s direction, and silently blessed
his mother for her tact. With the barest hint of a satisfied smile, he began
giving orders, arranging breakfast, drafting a message to the local constable,
and gently but firmly herding people into the dining area. Once things were
finally settled, he promised himself hours of uninterrupted time with Marissa.

* * * * *

“Built in 1786,” Lady Montford said. She gestured proudly
around the wood-paneled library. “Truly told, it is my favorite room of all.”

Marissa stared around, enchanted. She had never fallen in
love with a place before, yet she was doing so now. Although there was the
obvious lack of modern conveniences, she felt at home here. Nearly every room had
a huge fireplace, with blankets and pillows piled high on all the beds she’d
seen. The bathrooms were spacious and well-appointed for Victorian times, with
clean running water. She’d even glimpsed a bathtub large enough for two people
in the master bedroom—the room presumably belonging to Rhys.

“Thank you for the tour,” Marissa told Lady Montford,
belatedly remembering her manners.

“My pleasure. Shall we descend and take our tea now?” Rhys’
mother gave her a brief smile. They had formed a bond of sorts over the past
half-hour, talking about their shared Welsh history and finding several things
in common.

“Could I have a moment to look at the books?” Although she
was
an avid reader, Marissa desperately wanted a few moments alone to compose
herself. She needed to figure out what to do next.

As Lady Montford exited the room, Marissa sank down onto a
window seat, staring pensively out at the grounds. Mist clung to the tops of
the nearby hills and seeped down into the valley. Deep in her heart, she knew
she would adore living here, but could she face playing second fiddle to
another woman?

A quiet footstep at the door alerted her to someone else’s
presence. She looked up to see Harriet.

“I hope your chat with Lady Montford went well?” Harriet
asked.

“Yes. She seemed to warm to me.”

Harriet wiped her brow in an exaggerated show of relief.
“Thank goodness for that. It will be easier for both of us if Society accepts
you. Oh, that reminds me, did you have any money in your bag when you came to
school?”

“Yes. I had fifty dollars in case I wanted a t-carriage back
home.”

Harriet giggled. “Fifty dollars is quite a bit in these
times. I had seventy on me when I entered the maze.”

“Wait a minute.” Marissa dove for her reticule. In all the
excitement, she’d forgotten to see why it was heavier than normal. Her eyes
rounded at the glint of metal. “Oh—it changed!”

“Naturally,” the professor said. Lowering her voice, she
leaned in conspiratorially. “Even my bra changed.”

Marissa was too stunned to giggle. “This should be enough to
see us living comfortably somewhere.” Somewhere preferably near Rhys.

“Or for a dowry,” Harriet said meaningfully. “Lady Montford
was certainly impressed when I casually mentioned my wealth.”

Marissa remembered the wish she had made upon the silver spoon.
She had asked to be somewhere where she belonged. But what about her friend?

“Oh Harriet—what will
you
do?” Marissa blurted. “I’m
so sorry if I dragged you somewhere you didn’t want to be! I made a wish on
that spoon you gave me.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. “Was that how we got here? I was
wondering. Well, never you worry. I haven’t had so much fun in my entire life.
Between you and me, I had a brief chat with that handsome blacksmith earlier.
He wants to meet me later.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“Whatever happens, we shall pull through,” Harriet said
brightly.

Marissa summoned up a smile. “I hope so.”

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” The professor fixed her
with a stern but sympathetic look. “Wouldn’t you like to come eat some
breakfast?”

“I’m fine.” Marissa waved her friend away, cursing her
astuteness. “Just…a little overwhelmed. I think I’ll take a walk outside. I
don’t seem to have much of an appetite right now.”

Although Harriet protested, Marissa was eventually able to
slip away. She had lied—she was actually quite hungry after barely eating
anything yesterday. Yet she knew she couldn’t face seeing Rhys surrounded by
all the other women—perhaps enjoying their attentions a little too much. She
sighed, trying to dislodge the unbecoming jealousy.

Silently she padded down the stairs and slipped out a side
door, making her way blindly across the vast lawns. Her feet seemed to move of
their own volition, carrying her toward the maze. The hedges themselves were
shrouded in mist, creating an eerie, otherworldly feeling.

Marissa had the odd feeling she could disappear at any
moment. With great effort, she stopped just before entering the maze, her
fingers brushing through the growing mist. Was this what she truly wanted?

Rhys excused himself from the table with an abruptness
bordering on the rude. He had waited long enough for Marissa to appear and now
he was determined to fetch her himself. His mother had said she was in the
library, so he headed toward the stairs.

“Pardon me, my lord.”

With great effort, Rhys paused and turned to see who had
addressed him. A short, graying woman gave him a quick smile. “Are you looking
for Marissa? She told me she was going for a walk. I watched her go—she went
that way, across the lawn. She left only a few minutes ago.”

Rhys thanked her, taking off at a dead run. Hatless and
disheveled, he knew he looked unorthodox. In truth, he could hardly bring
himself to care. He only wanted to catch Marissa—catch her and keep her. The
ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

As he reached the edge of the lawn, he plunged into a mist
so thick he could barely see his own feet. A sudden terror gripped him—where
was she?

“Marissa!” he shouted, bounding toward the maze.

“Rhys?”

Relief flooded through him as he spotted her standing only a
few paces from the maze’s entrance. Rushing forward, he took her into his arms,
preventing her from stepping inside. In such a thick mist, she would have been
hopelessly lost between the hedges, perhaps lost to him for all time.

He shivered at that thought. Suddenly his thoughts flashed
back to that sunny day in Wales when he and his brothers had gone riding and
dropped into the fortune-teller’s hut. Would he really be unhappy for the rest
of his life if Marissa had disappeared? Had the old crone been telling him the
truth after all?

Yet there was no denying the lust that surged through his
veins. And, from her physical response, Marissa was feeling it too. Somehow,
without conscious thought, he was kissing her, lifting her in his arms as the
mist continued to swirl around them, hiding them from view.

Her dress unbuttoned easily, slipping down to reveal her
rounded breasts, down still further until she was able to step completely out
of it, the material sliding over her thighs tantalizingly until she stood naked
in front of the low stone wall that surrounded the hedge maze, eyes glazed with
passion. Rhys divested himself of his coat, draping it over the wall before he
settled her atop it.

“I need you,
cariad
,” he said simply.

“I know,” she whispered. “I need you too.”

“Then stay. Stay with me. Stop running away.”

Her response was a gasp, then a low moan, as he parted her
legs, pressing himself against her as she sat on the wall. Her long legs
wrapped around his waist as he gathered her close.

Unlike last night, there was no pressing need to explore
her, no gently flickering candlelight illuminating her, turning her golden.
There was only the mist, their rising sense of urgency.

She was ready for him, so ready, and he had to fight to
maintain control as he undid his breeches and plunged deep inside her. Although
he was trying to take his time, her low cry of pleasure nearly undid him. She
arched her back, pulling him closer, deeper.

His hands were everywhere, driving her into a frenzy even as
he teased her by staying still within her. Only when she rocked her hips in a
desperate need for release did he allow himself to thrust forward, giving in to
her desire and, a scant second later, his own.

Marissa’s world narrowed to the sounds of ragged breathing,
the feeling of his hands caressing her sensitized skin. Her release had been
beyond any semblance of control, catapulting her into a world of exploding
lights and colors.

She rested her head against his shoulder, marveling at the
sensations he had created within her, the aftershocks rippling through her.
Rhys had said he’d needed her. Did he? Slowly she raised her head, met his
passion-hazed eyes.

“Did you mean it when you asked me to stay?”

“I meant every word,
cariad
.”

Marissa took a deep breath, dreading her next words. But she
wanted to make sure Rhys knew what
she
needed.

“I cannot be your mistress. I—I love you, Rhys. I do not
think I could idly stand by and let you be with another woman.” Damn it, her
eyes were filling with tears. She tried to blink them away, chagrined at the
look on his face as he raised a hand to stroke her cheek.

Then he was going down on one knee, heedless of the mist
that continued to swirl around his face.

“I love you too, Marissa Blythe. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, stunned silence reigned. Then, “Yes,” she
whispered. “I would be honored to.”

Very carefully, Rhys slipped a platinum band over her
finger. She stared down at it, enchanted by the large rubies adorning the ring.

“It might be difficult for an American to adapt to life
here,” Rhys warned.

“I am prepared for that challenge.” Her eyes glittered as he
rose to his feet. She did feel a strong sense of belonging at Montford Hall
with Rhys. She knew being a baroness would have its trials, but somehow, she
looked forward to them. Life was suddenly filled with zest again.

Marissa grinned up at Rhys, who was still solemn. “Yes, I am
certainly prepared for the challenge. Besides, I think your mother wants
grandchildren. She dropped at least three hints as she showed me around.”

Rhys threw his head back and laughed, the tension of the
moment dissipating. “Did she? Well, imagine being subject to those little
comments for five years!”

Marissa felt a wicked little grin steal across her face.
“Then how about we go inside and get started?”

“Again? Don’t tempt me,
cariad
. I might just take you
up on that.”

They walked hand in hand up the hill, the mist thinning
before them.

Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay
Area, living aboard a boat with her parents until the age of three. She has a
degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London.
In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and
two children.

Clare welcomes comments from readers. You can find her email
address on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Lucky Silver

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Lucky Silver Copyright © 2014 Clare Murray

Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky

Cover design by Allyse Leodra

Cover photography by k14_hhistoricalwoman

Electronic book publication May 2014

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