London Season Matchmaker Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  There were audible gasps as Lord Wiltshire wrote down the details of the wager and the amount concerned, but Thomas did not care. His reputation was at stake, and there was nothing he would not do in order to defend it.

  Chapter Four

  “That is not at all fair, Mama!”

  Merry was more than a little angry with her sister and her mother, for they seemed to be working together in order to get her to do as they wished. Lady Whitehaven was now insisting that Merry had not won the wager and that, therefore, she had to do as she was told.

  “Titania has made it quite clear that she did not instruct Lord Carroway to seek you out and introduce you to Lord Weston,” Lady Whitehaven said firmly, dismissing Merry’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “Therefore, my dear, you have lost, and you must simply accept that.”

  Resisting the urge to stamp her foot, Merry took in a long breath and, closing her eyes, pushed it out between pursed lips. “Titania spoke to Lord Weston about her sisters and stated that she would be glad to introduce them,” she replied firmly. “If she had said nothing, then Lord Carroway might well have simply ignored the fact that I was present and could be introduced to Lord Weston. No, Mama, that is not fair in the least, especially since I spoke to Titania about what had been agreed between you and I. She knew full well that she was to say nothing, and yet, she chose to do so!”

  Titania, who had been sitting idly in a chair by the fire, now turned her head towards Merry and lifted one eyebrow slowly. “You seem to think that it is a bad thing to have been introduced to someone such as Lord Weston, Merry,” she said mildly. “Do you not know how very popular he is amongst the beau monde?”

  Merry stiffened, her hands balling into fists. “I care nothing for his self-importance nor how foolish the ladies of the ton are in batting their eyes at him,” she spat, knowing that Titania was not in the least bit concerned about her part in all of this. “He is an arrogant, self-interested fop, and I was glad to refuse to dance with him.”

  A cold hand gripped her heart as a swift intake of breath from her mother reminded Merry that she had not said a word about Lord Weston asking her to dance. That had remained unspoken and unsaid, for Merry had not wanted her mother to know that Lord Weston had shown such particular interest.

  “Well, well,” Lady Whitehaven said after a moment or two. “So Lord Weston asked you to dance, did he? You have not said as much before, Merry.”

  Titania laughed softly whilst Merry’s cheeks flared with heat. “That is because she knows that to admit such a thing would be to admit that she has lost the wager, Mama,” Titania stated, forcing Merry to duck her head with the shame of it all. “That is why you have not been honest, is it not?”

  Merry closed her eyes tightly, forcing air into her lungs and screaming inwardly as she did so. The urge to stamp her foot and to insist that Lord Weston had only offered to dance with her because they had been introduced and it would be most impolite not to do so rose up within her, for then she could place the blame solely on Lord Carroway’s shoulders and demand that she be freed from any implication that she had lost the wager. But, try as she might, Merry could not bring herself to force those words from her lips, her anger and frustration burning hotter and hotter within herself.

  “I am very surprised to hear that you refused such a gentleman, even though he is known to be something of a rogue,” Lady Whitehaven said gently, as if she could see Merry’s upset and wanted to quieten it somewhat. “You did not have any desire to take to the floor with him, Merry?”

  Opening her eyes, Merry looked at her mother and saw the calm smile on her face and the kindness in her eyes. Her own anger began to fade at once, in light of her mother’s gentleness, even though Merry knew that she would still demand that Merry do as she was asked—now that the wager had been lost.

  Inwardly, Lady Whitehaven must be delighting in the fact that she could dress Merry up in any gown or color she chose and have her hair set in any coiffure of her desire. But outwardly, at least, she was speaking kindly and with a good deal of understanding.

  “He did not make a favorable first impression, Mama,” she replied honestly, ignoring Titania’s snort. “I know that he has caught the interest of many and that he is, most likely, considered to be one of the most eligible gentlemen in all of London, but I myself found him arrogant, rude, and entitled.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Mayhap I did wrong in your eyes, Mama, but I could not step out with such a gentleman.” A rueful smile grasped one corner of her mouth. “And I do not think that he expected such a thing either. The way he spoke to me once I had insisted I would not dance with him was quite unexpected.”

  At this, the slight humor about Titania’s mouth vanished, her eyes now filling with concern. “I must say, Merry,” she began, turning to face her sister a little more fully. “I have not heard Lord Weston speak ill to anyone before. Might I ask what was said?”

  Merry let out a long breath, wondering whether she should be truthful or whether she ought to brush aside Titania’s question. Deciding on the former, she allowed herself a tiny shrug, as though to let her sister know that she did not care much for what Lord Weston had said – even though his words had struck her heart like hammer blows.

  “He called me a mouse, stating that I loved to cling to the shadows so that I would not be noticed. He also stated that you, Titania, would be more than I could ever be.” At this statement, Titania drew in a sharp breath, her eyes rounding and her cheeks paling a little. “I suppose that is quite true however, so I shall not allow myself to be injured by it.”

  There came a quiet over the three ladies as they considered what Merry had just revealed, with Merry herself feeling a sorrow and a pain that she covered over with false calmness and a light smile. She was well used to doing such a thing, and so it came quite naturally to her to pretend that those words from Lord Weston had done nothing to upset her. However, even though she had been angry with him at the time, even though she had been furious with his harsh words and his impertinence, Merry had been quite unable to stop those words from reaching down into her heart and lingering there. They had held modicums of truth, which had bitten down at her, hard, making her wince in pain. Lord Weston did not know it, but he had injured her heart with the sharpness of his tongue, reminding her that she would never be as her sisters were. She had not the beauty, the grace, nor the ease of manner and conversation that Titania displayed. Merry would constantly be passed over by gentlemen who saw nothing more than a dull visage. None sought to know her better, to discover the truth about her heart. They did not wish to get to know her likes and dislikes, her interests and her sorrows. They merely thought her a plain, little wallflower who could easily be passed over.

  And as much as Merry did not want to admit it, that knowledge and awareness brought her a good deal of pain. She told herself that she was used to such things, that they did not hurt her any longer, but if she were honest with herself, then Merry knew that she felt such deep torment that it was almost too great to even acknowledge.

  “I am sorry for what Lord Weston said, Merry.”

  Merry looked over at Titania, tugged from her melancholy thoughts. She quickly shrugged and looked back at her mother, who was frowning heavily. “It is nothing for you to apologize for, Titania,” she replied with another small shrug. “I am just glad that Lord Weston showed the truth of his character, so that I would not be taken in—as so many others are.”

  “I quite understand your reasoning not to stand up and dance with him, Merry,” Lady Whitehaven said slowly, her brow still knotted. “Do not think that I will press you into doing as you do not wish to do, for that is not my intention at all.”

  Merry gave her mother a half-smile. “Then what is, Mama?” she asked, honestly. “Is it not that you wish to dress me up in whatever manner you choose, in order to thrust me towards whichever gentlemen you can? What if they are all as Lord Weston is?”

  Much to Merry’s surprise, Lady Whitehaven came
closer to her, reached down, and took her hand in hers and then looked into her face with such a calm determination that Merry was quite taken aback.

  “I want to help you, Merry,” her mother said firmly. “You have hidden in the shadows for too long. You pretend that you do not care for the ton, for all of London society, but I am suspicious that such a thing is nothing more than a pretense. I believe that you fear coming into the light.”

  “Fear?” Merry replied, hating that her voice was a little unsteady. “I fear nothing, Mama.”

  “Yes, you do,” Lady Whitehaven replied decisively. “You fear that if you make yourself known to society, they will find you lacking. I think that you believe what Lord Weston said, cruel though he was. I think, in your own mind, you believe that he is correct to state that you shall never be as Titania is—when the opposite is quite true.”

  An ache came into Merry’s throat, which she pushed away almost at once. “I do not know what it is you are referring to, Mama,” she replied, turning her eyes away from Lady Whitehaven so that she would not have to look into her face and reveal herself. “I fear nothing. I simply do not care to be—”

  “If you cannot be honest with me, then that is to be expected,” Lady Whitehaven interrupted. “You keep your own thoughts so well hidden, Merry, that it must be very difficult for you to even imagine sharing them with me. However, know that I believe this to be the best thing for you. Whether you wish it or not, you shall be transformed into the delicate young lady you have always been.”

  Merry snorted in a most unladylike fashion and tugged her hand from her mother’s. “I am not delicate, Mama,” she told her, folding her arms across her chest. “Nor am I graceful and beautiful—as Titania is. I do not have good conversations and certainly do not catch the eye of any gentleman who passes me.”

  Lady Whitehaven lifted one eyebrow, but Merry was not about to drift into melancholy now. “Nor do I find myself eager to be as Titania is,” she told her mother firmly. “I do not want to be pulled to the dance floor or forced to walk with a gentleman who cares nothing for me but only for what I might look like walking beside him.”

  Titania got to her feet, her brows low. “You believe yourself to be plain and fear that a gentleman will only use you as an adornment?” she asked, bringing a flush to Merry’s cheeks. “What do you mean, Merry?”

  Merry sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “I am well aware that I do not have your beauty, Titania,” she said calmly, as Titania tugged the bell for some refreshments. “However, Mama is determined to attempt to improve my countenance in various ways, and I do not want any gentlemen to simply come near to me because of that. I do not expect there to be hordes of gentlemen,” she added with a wry smile, “but nor do I want even a single gentleman’s attention if he does not seek to know my character.”

  Titania nodded slowly, sitting back down in her seat. “That is an admirable desire indeed,” she replied, as Lady Whitehaven sighed heavily and made her way to sit opposite Titania. “Can you not trust that Mama will take your concerns seriously and, therefore, only introduce you to gentlemen who will not do as you fear?”

  Merry hesitated, seeing the way that her mother shot her an inquiring glance. “I…it seems that I have no other choice but to trust her,” she said eventually. “Although I am relieved to know that you will not consider Lord Weston, Mama.” She said this with a slight lift of her brow, seeing her mother nod and feeling herself fill with relief. Lord Weston, it seemed, would not be the sort of gentleman to be encouraged to give his attentions to Merry. That gave her some hope at the very least. Sighing to herself, Merry finally took a seat alongside her mother and sister, realizing that she had resigned herself to the fact that her mother would have her way in the end. The wager had been lost. Lord Carroway had seen to that, and now she would have to spend the rest of the Season being dressed up in whatever manner her mother chose. She would no longer be able to pull out her dullest dress and insist that her hair be pulled back into a chignon. Her mother had won.

  A scratch at the door alerted them to the butler. Lady Whitehaven called him to enter, and he came in at once, enquiring as to what he might be able to do for them.

  “Tea and refreshments, I think,” Lady Whitehaven said with a warm smile towards Merry, who could not quite bring herself to return it. “And have the carriage prepared. I intend to go into town thereafter.”

  Merry groaned and passed a hand over her eyes. No doubt this was for her benefit. She would be dragged along and made to try on various gowns of an array of colors until her mother was happy.

  “At once, Lady Whitehaven,” the butler replied bowing. “Oh, and a letter has arrived for you, Miss Wells.”

  Merry looked up in surprise, seeing a footman coming towards her with a silver tray in his hand. One letter sat upon it. She had not been expecting anyone to write to her, as she had not a good deal of correspondence. Frowning, she picked it up with a murmur of thanks, before turning it over in her hand. The seal and handwriting did not spring even a flicker of recognition within her, and so she was forced to wait until the butler and the footman had withdrawn from the room before she opened it.

  “It is unusual for you to receive a letter, Merry,” Titania said, albeit a little bluntly. “Who has written to you?”

  Merry let out a long breath as she quickly read the short lines. Her anger began to burn through her, searing her heart. Lord Weston’s words were as flowing and as sickly sweet as his manner, and she would not accept his apology simply because he had chosen such wonderful words by which to express it.

  “Lord Weston has written to me,” she told Titania and Lady Whitehaven, looking up from the letter to see them both exchange a glance. “It is of little importance however.”

  Lady Whitehaven’s interest grew obvious. “I hardly think so,” she replied quickly, gesturing to the letter. “What does he say within it?”

  Merry sighed inwardly but prevented herself from deflating into her chair. “He apologizes for his lack of courtesy and his ill manner towards me,” she replied, not wanting to read out each and every word to her mother. “That is all.” She did not mention that, at the very end of the letter, Lord Weston had asked for a second opportunity to greet her, promising that he would make a much-improved impression than he had the first time. There was no eagerness in her heart to see the fellow again, and even though Lady Whitehaven had assured her that she would be more than careful in deciding which gentlemen she would press upon Merry, Merry herself did not feel certain that her mother would not be taken in by Lord Weston’s ways. He had a quick smile and honeyed speech, which meant that Lady Whitehaven might well be overcome by his ways.

  “Then you have no eagerness to respond to him,” Titania stated, making Merry nod. “Even though he has apologized profusely.”

  “If he wishes to apologize to me, then I would prefer he speak to me about his behavior, rather than detailing a letter and expecting me to respond,” Merry replied swiftly. “And I am not as inclined to think well of him as you are, Titania. I shall not easily forget his words nor the cruel manner in which he spoke to me.”

  Lady Whitehaven nodded slowly, as if she had just now recalled what Merry had shared about Lord Weston’s harsh words. “Then that is entirely your decision, my dear,” she said to Merry. There was a firmness about her demeanor that made Merry smile. “If you wish to ignore this letter and stay out of his acquaintance, then I quite understand.”

  Merry rose to her feet, not giving the letter another glance but rather crumpling it up in her hand. “I am quite determined,” she replied, reaching the fireplace and throwing the letter into the small, lingering flames that sat in the grate. The flames grasped at the paper eagerly, licking the sides of the paper until, within a few moments, it was nothing but ash. Merry smiled satisfactorily to herself. Lord Weston was not about to make his way back into her good graces by simply writing a letter filled with apologies and accolades. He would have to learn that she was a good deal mor
e determined than that.

  Chapter Five

  Much to Thomas’s frustration, Lord Henderson made his way over towards him. Thomas had been doing his best to remain entirely unobserved as he lingered in the shadows, but it seemed that his friend had already spotted him.

  “Whatever are you doing over here?” Lord Henderson asked, sounding both confused and cheerful in equal measure. “I cannot quite understand it! It is a ball, and you are normally making your way through the crowd and seeking to put your name on as many dance cards as you can.”

  Thomas’s jaw clenched. “That was before I had the urgency to win a wager,” he reminded Lord Henderson, seeing his friend’s expression fill with understanding. “It has been two days since I sent that letter to Miss Wells.”

  “And?”

  Thomas shook his head. “She did not respond to me.”

  Lord Henderson paused for a moment, although Thomas did not miss the look of delight that passed across his face. Apparently, his friend was enjoying this a good deal more than Thomas, and that thought irritated him greatly.

  “I see,” Lord Henderson murmured, attempting to rearrange his face into a sympathetic expression but failing completely. “And you hope to see her here, do you?”

  “I hope to be able to speak to her,” Thomas replied, turning back so that he might look through the crowd again. “If she did not accept my written apology, then I can only hope that she will allow me to speak to her of my supposedly deep regret that has been troubling me since I last saw her.” This last sentence was said with so much irony within it that even Thomas could not help but grin. “I shall not be able to laugh when I say such things to her however,” he reminded his friend, shaking his head as he spoke. “I must be absolutely sincere.”