Damian felt absurdly pleased, as if somehow his suit had been approved by two people who had the right to judge. Meredith, still somewhat bemused, allowed herself to be directed back to the pantry. Food and wine were passed down to Bart, the slab was firmly replaced, and Damian and Meredith crept upstairs on stockinged feet to her bedchamber.
“Lawks-a-mercy!” Nan, shocked out of her usual composure, jumped upright at the sight of them. “Whatever have you been a-doing now? You look as if you've been stoking Lucifer's furnace.”
“So we have, in a manner of speaking,” said Meredith. “Can you fetch us hot water, Nan, dear?”
“Aye, that I can. It's a bath you'll both be needing before you get between the sheets.” She bustled from the room and Meredith began to laugh helplessly.
“As far as Nan is considered, you're just another one of her nurslings. She is not at all surprised to see you.
Damian did not respond, indeed appeared as if he had not heard her. “If I agree to be a Trelawney during the summer months, will you agree to be Lady Rutherford from October to May?” he asked, his expression grave.
“Is this a proposal, sir? I was under the impression I had no choice in this matter of marriage.” She smiled tentatively.
“Not in the fact,” he said quietly. “But in the manner of its conduct. You accept the fact now, do you not?”
“Yes.” Meredith nodded, her expression equaling his in gravity. “I accept that a smuggler may wed a smuggler. I accept that you risked your life as well as your family's honor to prove to me that my fears were groundless. I accept that I am able to take my place in your world if I choose to do so. The only barriers would be of my own construction.”
“You once said that marriage would confer upon me the honor of giving, while allowing you only to accept. What say you now, Merrie Trelawney?”
“That I will give to you as I know you will give to me.” She smiled a distinctly misty smile. “Do I know my catechism, sir?”
“It has taken you a while to learn it,” he replied. “But then it has taken me as long to learn mine.” His arms opened, and Merrie stepped into the loving circle of his embrace.
“There'll be time enough for that later,” Nan said, thumping two jugs of hot water inside the door. “Get out of those filthy clothes now, the pair of you. Meredith, fetch the bath in front of the fire.”
“I'll fetch it. Where is it?” Damian's shoulders shook as, following Meredith's directions, he pulled the porcelain hip bath from a cupboard, drawing it in front of the fire. Nan poured steaming water from the jugs, then took them away to refill.
“There's only room for one of us at a time,” Merrie choked. “Perhaps I should go in first since Nan will be back any minute. She would not be at all perturbed to encounter you in the bath, but perhaps you might.”
“Doubtless I would,” he agreed equably, beginning to unbutton her shirt. “I have to tell you, Merrie, in spite of my partiality, that you resemble a particularly repulsive little boy at the moment.”
“And I must tell you, Lord Rutherford, in spite of my partiality, that you look excessively villainous. Not someone I would care to meet alone in a dark alley,” she countered, not taking her eyes from his as he stripped off her clothes.
“Then we are in a fair way to suiting one another very well,” he responded. “Get in the bath.”
Merrie did so, resting her head against the rim with a sigh of deep contentment as those knowing hands began to stroke her body beneath the water. “I still do not know how I will manage to be a duchess,” she murmured, arching her back luxuriously.
“As well as I may manage to be a smuggler,” Damian said. “Although, on the whole, I would feel happier if we could satisfy your adventurous spirit with some activity that is not outside the law.”
“That, if I may be so bold, is the most sensible thing I've heard said in a long while.” The blunt comment came from Nan, who brought two more steaming jugs over to the bath. “You'll not be needing me any further tonight, I imagine.”
“No. Thank you, Nan.” Merrie tried to look sweetly innocent in denial of the soaping hands busily at work beneath the water.
“Good-night, Nan,” said Damian firmly. “You may safely leave matters in my hands.”
“What a thing to say!” Merrie expostulated through her mirth as the door finally closed on the departing Nan. Then she became serious again although the sloe eyes smiled still. “Will we always laugh together, love? It is so much a part of being with you.”
“Always,” he affirmed, kissing her eyes. “As we will always love together.”
“And quarrel?” Her wet arms slipped around his neck.
“Oh, yes.” He chuckled. “Life with you, my little adventuress, will be no bed of roses.”
“Well, of all things!” Merrie protested indignantly, with a sudden jerk of her arms. Caught off balance, Damian tumbled atop her into the bath.
“Abominable girl!” he declared against her mouth. “You are, love of my life, the most maddening, infuriating creature.”
“And you, love of my life, are autocratic, tyrannical, and cunning,” Merrie retorted with considerable satisfaction. “Perhaps you should take off your clothes if we are to continue in this fashion. . .”