Dark Passions

33.

Derek slipped into Meredith's suite, finding her sitting at the dressing table, brushing her hair. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, dropping a kiss on the nape of her neck. "I just spoke with Miss Stevens," he said, catching her eye in the mirror. "Marcus was awake briefly, and he seems to be suffering no ill effect from the bump on the head. She said he was very charming."

Meredith leaned back against him, placing her hand over his, smiling at his reflection. "Indeed - I can just imagine."

"She seems very capable, and quite charming herself. Probably nothing like the women Marcus is accustomed to."

"Isobel is very sweet. I've known her for a few years now. After my mother died, I was alone for some time, and when we became friends, it seemed the best solution for us to live together."

Derek caught the fleeting expression of sadness in Meredith's eyes at the mention of her mother. "Come, we have some time before dinner." He took her hand and helped her stand, leading her over to the bed. "Your mother, you never speak of her, can you tell me about her?" he asked gently, wanting to understand her sudden sadness.

Meredith drew a shaky breath. "Oh, Derek..." she sighed, feeling his strong arms pulling her closer, and she put her head against his solid chest. "I wish she was alive to be here for the wedding. She would have been so happy."

Together they sank down onto the edge of the bed, and he shifted her down onto the pillows, to lay beside him. He cradled her in his arms, her head against him, while he stroked her hair. The room felt cozy, the fire glowing, as he listened to the rain drumming against the window. He waited patiently for Meredith to continue, feeling the dampness of her tears through his shirt. "Shhh, my love, don't cry. You will never be alone again, you know that," he soothed her. "How old were you when she died?"

"I was only seventeen. She did her best for us, Derek, but it was difficult. She was always tired, working long hours, until she got sick. She wanted me to have a better life than she did, making sure that I had my education. But once she took ill, I had to go work myself."

"And your father died when you were younger, is that correct? You mentioned that there was monthly funds for you from his estate, I believe."

"Yes, I have no memories of him at all. Mother never spoke of him much, I think it was too painful."

Derek tightened his grip around her. "My poor Meredith. How fortunate that my mother met you."

"Yes, she was a frequent customer at the milliner's shop. I worked there, but also several other places, some not so pleasant, but I got by, and now I'm here, with you," she murmured, lifting her head to look at him. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. He had a feeling she wasn't telling him everything yet, but he didn't want to push her.

"Yes, you are, and you have nothing to worry about any longer," he said softly. "And you have my family now, and soon, our child. We will have more than enough love and happiness to make up for what you lost. And we'll grow old together, watching our grandchildren play. I feel it in my bones, Meredith. This is meant to be, you and I, forever."

"Forever is a very long time," she whispered, pressing her lips against his.

"Not long enough," he said, drawing her closer. His hand strayed to the thin material covering her breast, his palm covering her, his thumb playing lazily across her nipple. Her soft feminine moan of response drifted into the air, stirring his desire into sharp want. "But we should make the most of the time we have, my sweet girl," he whispered.

"Yes, we should," she agreed, reaching up to run her fingers through his thick hair, still damp and curling from the rain. "Time has a way of slipping away and leaving you with regrets sometimes."