Merry looked hopeful. “Do you really think so?”
“It’s an entirely reasonable request. An awful thought struck her. What if Merry’s father refused because of the family rift? And what if Robert felt the same way? It might stir up the unspoken grievances between them again. But as things stood, they couldn’t get any worse. And might Merry be the catalyst that brought them together again?
Robert strolled through the door, appearing large and very male in his riding clothes in the daintily furnished salon.
“Cousin Robert!” Merry jumped up from the sofa.
“Well, how d’you do, Merry?” He bowed over her hand. “You’ve grown since I saw you last. You were a skinny young thing with your hair in braids then. Now you are a beguiling young lady.”
Merry giggled and her cheeks flushed becomingly. “I’ve just been explaining to Kate how I came here all the way from Bath by stage and sat next to a horrid fat man,” she said all in one breath, fluttering her long dark eyelashes at him.
Kate smiled, suspecting this was common practice when any attractive man was near.
“Your parents permitted you to travel by stage?” Robert turned to kiss Kate’s hand, and a dark eyebrow peaked.
“Well no… not exactly…” Merry flushed.
“I’ve invited Merry to stay with us for a sennight, Robert,” Kate hastened to say while enjoying the brief touch of his cool lips on her skin, impersonal as it was. “We are in the process of composing a letter to her father.” She would enjoy taking Merry about town, and it might serve to remove the Frenchman from her thoughts. What this Armand needed was a little competition. Although there was Mr. Foster. And she wasn’t entirely sure Merry had dismissed him entirely as a suitor.
Robert picked up a sandwich and settled in a chair opposite. “I’m not certain he’ll agree to it, Merry.”
“Oh, but he will. I’m sure of it,” she said in a breathy voice. “He often said he wished someone would take me in.”
Kate stifled a laugh as Robert cleared his throat. For a moment their eyes met, and she saw with a rush of delight, that he was struggling not to chuckle.
“Why didn’t you go to your Uncle Henry?” Robert asked, speaking of Charlesworth.
She screwed up her nose. “He’s so stuffy.”
“You mustn’t speak so of your uncle,” Robert said sternly.
But Kate caught the smile which quirked at the corner of his mouth. He had discovered a like-minded soul. No doubt the task would fall on her to rein in this lively girl, for clearly, she could wrap Robert around her little finger. As she would most men under forty.
Kate was a little envious.
Chapter Fourteen
Robert insisted on writing the letters. One was sent to Bath with a footman and another delivered to Lord and Lady Charlesworth at their London address to alert them to Merry’s whereabouts.
As Merry had brought few clothes with her, Kate attempted to find her something suitable until her trunk arrived, which Robert requested in his letter.
Merry immediately pounced on a gold brocade with a plunging neckline. She held it up in the mirror. “I might wear this.”
“When you are a young matron, I shall give it to you,” Kate said. “But for now, your gowns must be modest as befitting your age.”
Merry fingered a skirt of bright coral silk damask, with a heavy sigh. “If you’re sure.”
“My dear,” Kate said, feeling every minute of her twenty-one years, “I hope you will put your trust in me.”
Merry rushed over to throw her arms around Kate. “Of course, I will. I believe you to be very, very wise.”
“Perhaps a little wiser than at your age,” Kate said with a rueful smile. She tidied her hair after the fierce onslaught. “We go to a supper party tonight at Lord Gloucester’s home in Richmond.” She held up a gown of India muslin with a modest neckline. “It’s as well that we are of a similar size. This will be perfect. You can wear my pearls.”
Merry looked doubtful. She turned it and gave a crow of delight at the fetching black bow which perched above the derriere.
“Just the right touch of sophistication,” Kate said with a smile.
*
Robert scanned the letter from his stepfather. The scratchy writing looked like a bird had stalked across the page, and perhaps reflected the awkward position Lord Charlesworth found himself in, forced to converse with Robert again. The note was brief and to the point. He would expect Merry to be closely chaperoned while in London, and if Robert did not feel up to the task, she was to be sent to Portman Square to stay with her cousins. Lady Charlesworth was more than keen to have her.
That this might be the best course of action had occurred to Robert. But he still smarted at Kate’s treacherous visit to his mother behind his back which no doubt delighted Lord Charlesworth and made him even more self-righteous. His dictatorial prose angered Robert, and he decided against such an action. He set pen to paper and replied in equally frigid tones that Lady St. Malin was also more than keen to keep Merry. She had great plans for her. It appeared to be true. Kate and Merry were fast becoming bosom-bows.
It became Kate to have company, she was looking well these days, he noticed, as she departed for the final sitting for the portrait. He glanced up at the one of him hanging on the wall of the library. He looked remarkably boyish and rather miserable. He didn’t much like it. He would commission another when he reached forty. By then, age would have written some interesting lines on his face, especially the way in which his life was heading.
The door opened and Merry peeked in.
Robert put down his whiskey glass. “Come in, Merry.”
Merry wandered the book shelves while curling a lock of her hair around her finger. Tired of waiting for her to offer a reason for being there, Robert continued with his correspondence. The clunk of the grandfather clock and the scratch of his pen broke the silence.
She came to stand in front of him, hands clasped together.
“Robert?”
“Mm?”
“Have you heard from Father?”
He grinned at her. “A letter has arrived with your trunk. He’s agreed to your stay with us.” A note had returned with his footman. Merry’s father appeared to be of a more conciliatory nature than his brother, Lord Charlesworth. He expressed the opinion that his contrary daughter could only gain a level of maturity from a short stay in London. He had heard much that was good from his sister-in-law about Lady St. Malin and looked forward to meeting her at a later date. He hoped Merry would not cause them too much concern. But please do not believe everything she tells you, he warned. It was not that Merry deliberately told falsehoods, but rather that she was of a fanciful nature.
Robert was slightly unnerved that Merry’s father sounded relieved to be free of her for a time. He was glad that Kate seemed to cope so well. Women understood one another in a way most men couldn’t fathom. He frowned as the thought occurred to him that having Merry here removed some of the strained silences between him and Kate and lightened the atmosphere. He rather enjoyed watching the two women laughing with their heads together.
Robert was suddenly aware that Merry had spoken. “Sorry, Merry. What did you say?”
“Would it be all right if I walked in the park? I’ll take a servant with me.”
He looked up from the piles of papers on his desk and was struck by the heavy weight of responsibility. He rubbed his jaw. “Can’t you wait for Kate to return?”
Merry pouted. “She won’t be back for hours and I’m rather confined.”
He moved a pile of papers aside and prepared to rise. “I’ll accompany you.”
“Oh no. Please don’t. I’ll feel guilty taking you away from your correspondence.”
He glanced regrettably at the pile, all of which demanded his immediate attention.
“Take a footman with you.”
“Must I? Couldn’t I take a maid?”
“Very well, a maid. But don’t be long, mind
.”
Merry clapped her hands and rushed over and kissed his cheek. “You are a splendid cousin.”
After she left, Robert stared at the shut door. He couldn’t imagine Kate ever being quite that frivolous.
*
“It’s finished!”
Sir Thomas turned the easel in Kate’s direction. She was rubbing her neck trying to ease the stiffness and looked up at the canvas.
A lady with an elegant countenance stared off into the distance. Behind her, a river wound its way through classical ruins beneath rose-tinted clouds in an azure sky. The lady who was surely not her, was beautiful. Her green eyes lit with amber lights smiled enigmatically from beneath the shallow-crowned black hat trimmed with curling ostrich feathers. Did her eyes really tilt up at the corners like that? And surely the golden highlights woven through the lock of hair resting on her shoulder were a figment of the artist’s imagination? Her hair was more brown than gold. The cleverly wrought muslin gown clung to her creamy-skinned bosom and slender body in graceful folds. A fringed shawl graced her arms, catching the highlights in her eyes and hair.
“It’s wonderful. I can’t believe that’s me,” she said faintly.
“I’ve captured your essence well,” Sir Thomas said with an air of satisfaction.
“You have created a beautiful painting, Sir Thomas. I am most grateful. Thank you.”
He bowed. “It was my pleasure to have such an excellent subject.”
Kate arrived home and was peeling off her gloves when informed by Hove that Merry was promenading in the park. She had taken Brigitte with her.
A stab of unease took hold. “How long has she been gone, Hove?”
“Two hours, my lady.”
“Is his lordship at home?”
“Yes. In the library.”
Brigitte was not the best companion for Mary. And Kate was suspicious of Merry’s sudden desire to commune with nature.
She entered the library. The sight of Robert’s dark head bent over the desk caught at her heart. “Robert?”
Pen poised in his hand, he glanced up. “You’re back.” He put down his pen and eased his shoulders. “Have you finished with Gainsborough?”
She’d forgotten all about the portrait. She crossed the carpet to his desk, thinking he looked tired. He planned to employ more staff but had yet to do it. “All done. It’s beautifully done, but I doubt it looks like me.”
He smiled. “Nevertheless, I am eager to view it.”
“It will be delivered in a few days.”
She glanced up at the portrait of him hanging over the fireplace on the far wall. “You look quite solemn in that painting.”
He nodded. “I suppose I was at that time.”
She leaned back against his wide polished desk scattered with papers and folders and gazed into his face, wanting desperately for him to move closer, to take her into his arms. “And you’re not now?”
“I don’t believe so,” he said challengingly.
She sighed. She didn’t have the energy to dispute it. “Merry has gone to the park with my maid. I’m a little uneasy about it.”
“Is that so dangerous? You went there on your own once, remember?”
It wasn’t meant to wound, she was sure, for she caught a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “I know. It seems so long ago. So much has happened since.”
At her words, the amusement in his eyes faded, and he returned to his letters. “She’ll be back directly.” He shuffled papers.
“I’d like to take the landau and fetch her.”
“Yes, do, if you must. But I suspect you’re overreacting.” He turned around in the chair as she walked to the door. “Take a footman.”
“I will.”
“Kate?”
She swung around. “Yes?”
“I thought we’d hang the portrait over the fireplace in the salon.”
“Really?”
He smiled. “You are pleased with it?”
“Yes, very much. I’d like that. I must go.”
Kate hurried down the stairs. Robert constantly surprised her. His generosity was without question, but when that warm expression entered his eyes, he drew her like a cat to a warm stove, and she had to retreat to get her breath.
In the park, Kate angled her parasol to keep the sun from her eyes and walked along beneath the trees. Soames trailed behind. Many people strolled about, enjoying the fine weather after a week of rain.
She searched for Merry among the trees but couldn’t find her, so continued walking to the Serpentine. But Merry was not among those viewing the lake.
On her way back, Kate passed a copse of trees, and there, tucked away from sight on a seat sat Merry with a man beside her, and no sign of Brigitte.
The dark-haired man was modestly dressed in a brown coat and pantaloons. With a glance behind her at Soames, Kate walked smartly up to them. They were so engrossed in their conversation neither of them noticed her until she stood before them.
Merry gasped and put a gloved hand to her cheek. “Kate!” She turned to the Frenchman who had risen from the seat. “Armand, this is my cousin by marriage, Marchioness, Lady St. Malin.”
The Frenchman bowed low. “De Ville, my lady.”
“Monsieur.” Kate nodded coolly at him, then turned to Merry. “Where is Brigitte, Merry?”
Merry cast her eye around. “She was here a moment ago,” she said, waving her hand vaguely. “She said she saw someone she knew.”
“Never mind. Please come, I have a carriage waiting.”
De Ville found his voice. “My lady, I beg that you will forgive my impertinence, but…”
Kate arched an eyebrow. “I don’t believe your conduct has been above board, monsieur.”
He gave a Gallic shrug. “It would not help my cause to follow society’s rules. I would be cast out into the darkness forever.”
He certainly had a dramatic turn of phrase. She could see why Merry was attracted to him. He presented a romantic figure, with his French accent. And handsome, with expressive brown eyes. “Is it your cause to turn a young woman against her family, monsieur? If the Marquess of St. Malin was here, I suspect you would indeed be cast out. Quite painfully.” Kate took Merry’s arm. “Come to the carriage, please Merry.”
“I am here at Miss Hargrove’s invitation, my lady,” Armand called following behind.
Kate looked at Merry whose steps faltered beside her. “Did you invite him, Merry?”
Tears filled Merry’s eyes. “Well yes… I did, I—”
“We’ll discuss this at home.” Kate nodded at Armand who was scuttling sideways, eyeing the scowling footman, considerably bigger in stature. “Good day, monsieur.”
Armand stopped in his tracks and shrugged helplessly as Kate led Merry toward the landau waiting on the South Carriage Drive.
Once inside the vehicle, Kate turned to the sobbing girl. “I thought you wished time away from this Frenchman. I will not be held responsible for you if you persist to make underhanded clandestine arrangements.”
Merry sniffed. “I wish you might have talked to Armand, Kate. He isn’t what he appears. He told me the French government confiscated his family’s chateau and all of their fortune.”
“I’m sure he isn’t what he seems,” Kate said acerbically. She leaned forward and took the distressed girl’s hand. “A poor French émigré and a fortune hunter more like. My goodness, what were you thinking? When Robert finds out…” She shook her head.
Merry’s eyes widened and she gave a mew of distress. “Oh no, you won’t tell him.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Merry. What did you expect? That I would keep this from Robert?”
Merry’s shoulders heaved and she studied her hands in her lap. “Forgive me. It was wrong of me.”
Kate shook her head. “Promise never to do this again,” she said sternly. “Or you must return home.”
“I promise,” Merry said in a small voice. She pulled her handkerchief from her petticoat pocket and ble
w her nose.
“You don’t need to deceive me, my dear,” Kate said in a kindlier tone. She well knew how it was to love someone blindly and without hope. “If it’s within my power, and the right thing to do, I will help you. But I can’t if you conceal things from me.”
Some hours later, Robert found them in the salon, dressed for dinner, Kate with a glass of sherry and Merry sipping lemonade. He smiled approvingly. “You both have a healthy flush. I see the trip to the park was beneficial.”
As he poured himself a whiskey from the decanter, Kate gave Merry a quick shake of her head. She had decided not to tell him just yet. It would be like putting a cat in the dovecote. And he would have Merry back in Bath before the week was out.
Chapter Fifteen
Merry went about with a long face for most of the next day, but in the evening, she brightened amidst the delightful company at Lady Severn’s card party. Especially when several young men gathered around her. Dressed in one of her own gowns of pale apricot, she flirted and laughed with them.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she would now forget the Frenchman, with his poetic black curls and wounded dark eyes.
Robert seemed more than content to leave Merry to Kate’s ministrations. He spent a good deal of the evening with his friends around the card table.
It was very late when they came home. In the upper corridor, Robert said goodnight to them both and made his way to his bedchamber.
Merry paused in the dim light from the candle stubs flickering in their sconces. “My father and mother sleep in the same bed.”
“It’s not always the way in London,” Kate said a lurch of dismay. What sort of example might she and Robert be setting? Merry must consider their marriage to be a very dry affair, which undoubtedly it was.
“I suppose that’s so,” Merry said kissing her cheek. “London is much more sophisticated than Bath.”
“Did you enjoy the evening? Mr. Guthridge is an impressive young man.”
Merry giggled. “You sound so old, Kate. He is five and twenty. Years older than you.”
The Marquess Meets His Match Page 14
