Sins and Scandals Collection. Nicola Cornick
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hated him, she was repulsed. Yet instinct, deep and inexplicable, persistently threw her into his arms. It made no sense.
She found that she was shaking. Tiredness and frustration racked her. “I think,” she said, “that when we get out of here it would be best if we never see each other again.”
“I think that would be a good idea,” Garrick agreed, and he sounded weary to the soul. He was sitting with his back to her and he made no move to turn or draw closer.
There was quiet once more. Merryn felt horribly bereft, so lonely when the only other human being trapped with her was a man she could not approach for comfort, either mentally or physically. She wanted to rationalize her feelings away, to find an explanation for the instinct that had told her she could trust Garrick. Yet there was none.
“I expect,” she said, “that our current attraction is merely a product of our situation. We are imprisoned here together and it is frightening and perfectly understandable that we should seek reassurance in one another. Besides, the beer fumes are making us both light-headed. It is a transient thing …” Her voice trailed off unhappily. If she did not believe her excuses she was sure that Garrick would not, either.
“By all means,” Garrick said, “think of it in those terms if it makes you feel better. I refuse to accept that I am only attracted to you because I am drunk.”
Silence again. The darkness fizzed with emotion—bitter, brittle anger, despair and longing.
“What can we do?” Merryn said helplessly.
“Nothing,” Garrick said. She heard him sigh. “I am going to sleep. My head hurts.” His voice sounded slurred. Now he really did sound drunk.
“You can’t go to sleep!” Merryn said sharply. “Wake up!” She was remembering another of Professor Brande’s lectures that she had attended the previous year, this time on medicine.
“The effects of a blow to the head may be delayed but they may also be fatal … If the patient sleeps he may not awaken …”
Panic grabbed her by the throat. She reached out for Garrick and gripped his shoulder hard.
“Don’t go to sleep,” she said again, and she could hear the raw anxiety edge her own voice. She grabbed his arm, shook him. “It could be dangerous. Did you sustain a blow to the head when the roof fell?”
“I don’t remember …” Garrick sounded as though he was drifting away from her. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”
“I’m not worried about you,” Merryn snapped. “It’s purely selfish. I don’t want to be left here on my own, that is all. I find after all that some company, even yours, is preferable to none.”
Garrick did not respond. Merryn shook him again and heard him groan. “Leave me in peace,” he said. “I’m a Duke and I can go to sleep if I like.”
“You’re gabbling,” Merryn said coldly. She felt scared. She wondered if she should slap his face. Except she could not see where it was. “Did you not hear me?” she demanded. “If you fall asleep you may never wake up.”
“That should suit you very well,” Garrick muttered. “An eye for an eye, or whatever.” He gave a sigh. She could tell that he was settling down to sleep.
Merryn scooped up a double handful of the sticky, warm, brackish beer and threw it in his general direction. She followed it with a second measure. There was a splash, a movement and then some very colorful swearing.
“What the devil—” At least he sounded wide-awake now. Merryn found that she was smiling. “That’s better,” she said.
“I’m glad that you think so.” He sounded very grumpy. “Who would have guessed you could be such a shrew?”
“You should be thanking me,” Merryn said. “You might have died.”
“I almost did die—of beer inhalation.” But he sounded himself again. Merryn’s heart skipped a tiny beat.
There was a pause. She could feel his hesitation. Then he took her hand. She almost jumped at the physical contact.
“Thank you,” he said.
The tears pricked her eyelids, foolish, weak tears she did not understand.
His thumb moved softly over her palm. “We will get out of here,” he said. His voice had gentled and once again it tugged at her emotions. “I swear we will.”
“Will anyone miss you if you do not return home?” Merryn asked. It had not occurred to her before, but surely someone, somewhere would raise an alarm?
“I doubt it,” Garrick said. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going to be.”
So no one cared where he was or what he did. Merryn thought it sounded very lonely.
“But people will surely miss you,” Garrick added.
“Yes.” Merryn felt a clutch of apprehension mingled with hope. “Joanna will worry when I do not return to Tavistock Street,” she said. The guilt pricked her. “I was supposed to be working for Tom this evening but I told Joanna that I was attending a concert with a friend,” she said. “She may not realize that anything was wrong for a few hours and even then she will have no idea as to where I might be.”
“But if Bradshaw knows,” Garrick said, “he may contact your sister to ensure that you are safe.”
“Yes …” Merryn said. “It is possible but I think it unlikely. Tom believes me to be at a meeting of the Royal Humane Society tonight. He would hardly expect me to be in the rookeries off the Tottenham Court Road.” She raised a hand to her aching head. Suddenly everything seemed intolerably complicated. It seemed very unlikely that Tom would go to Joanna and Alex, but if he did then her secret life would unravel faster than a ball of thread. On the other hand, if he did not realize that something was wrong, and she and Garrick could not find a way out, they might be trapped for days. The panic fluttered again but the warmth of Garrick’s hand in hers helped her to quell it this time. She felt stronger with him near. She did not like the thought but she had to accept that it was true.
“How well do you know Bradshaw?” Garrick asked.
“Well enough,” Merryn said. “He’s not my lover,” she added then wondered why on earth she had seen the need to mention it.
Garrick laughed. “I know that. You told me that you had never been kissed before.” He had half turned toward her. “I think that I would have known it anyway,” he added slowly. “When I kissed you at the ball you looked as though you had discovered a wonderful new pastime, one you had never indulged in before but would love to explore further.”
“Oh!” Merryn whipped her hand from his and pressed both her palms to her burning cheeks. That had been exactly what she had felt. She had not realized, though, that she was quite so transparent.
“I did like it,” she admitted after a moment. “I enjoy new experiences and it was intellectually fascinating.”
She heard Garrick laugh. “Indeed! I have never before considered kissing an intellectual pastime. In what way was it … ah … intellectually fascinating?”
“Because I had no previous knowledge of it,” Merryn said, “and I found it interesting to analyze my responses—”
“Analyze your responses? You mean you had time to think?” Garrick sounded slightly taken aback. “Was it better than reading a book?” he asked. “Or some other comparative academic activity?”
“That,” Merryn said, “would depend upon the book. It was better than reading Clarissa, which I found turgid, but not quite as good as reading Mansfield Park, which I enjoyed a very great deal.”
“Mansfield Park.” Garrick sounded amused. “I hope it was an exceptionally good read.”