In the final weeks of their exile, Aurora had received a letter from her parents informing her she would be married just a few weeks after arriving in London. The Earl of Radcliff was a fine match on paper, but in reality he was a vicious monster. An incident at a Gaming Hell cost Radcliff his worthless hide. Aurora was lucky to have escaped marriage with her life.
“Perhaps he’s just very charming.” Faith shrugged. “You danced with him, Mercy. What was your impression?”
“That was months ago.” Mercy avoided the question.
The three of them continued to watch her.
Mercy drew a long breath. There was no avoiding her friends. “He was a good dancer and careful to keep me out of harm’s way when an overzealous couple nearly barreled over me. His conversation was substantial and interesting. I’m not sure what you want me to have gleaned from one dance.” She finished with a huff of frustration. Speaking about two dances that had kept Wesley Renshaw on her mind for months was not good for Mercy’s wellbeing and in the context of his courting her friend, it was not good for her heart’s sake either.
“He did replace your spectacles that were broken during the dance.” Aurora bit her thumb.
“Did he?” Faith sat up straighter and pinned Mercy with her gaze. “You never said anything.”
Mercy tucked her feet under her on the chaise and gave a shrug. “What was there to say? He felt responsible for my other pair breaking and sent a new pair. I sent him a note of thanks and had my solicitor pay him back from a portion of my allowance each month. It would have been improper to accept such a gift.”
“I see your point,” Poppy said. “That does not negate the fact that it was a kind gesture on his part. You must have made quite an impression on him, Mercy.”
A laugh bubbled up inside Mercy and came out as a snort. “So much of an impression that he’d decided to court my friend.”
Aurora was still on the end of the chaise and turned to face Mercy. “I hope you don’t think I encouraged this behavior. I hardly spoke to him.”
Mercy took her hand. “Of course not. I’m sure his lordship has his reasons. Perhaps we should find out what those reasons are and then dissuade him from his folly. If that is what you want, Aurora.”
“I most certainly don’t wish to be courted by the Earl of Castlewick, or anyone else for that matter. I will tell him so when he comes to call and that will be an end to it.” Aurora gave Mercy’s hand a squeeze and firmly nodded her head.
Poppy frowned. “We should find out what it is he really wants. Not that you are not a worthy prize on your own, Aurora, but he hardly knows that. He must need something you can offer.”
Heart shriveled like an apple left out in the sun, Mercy saw no point in wishing for a different life. She had to live the one she’d been given. “Faith, your husband knows his lordship quite well. Can you ask him what might have attracted Aurora to him?”
Pulling a sour face, Faith said, “If I must, but Nick doesn’t like our Wallflower meddling after the mess he and I ended up in after our investigation of him and my subsequent trapping him in the country.”
“It was hardly our fault that Nick had enemies who came after him.” Poppy stomped her foot.
“No,” Faith agreed, “but he still doesn’t like it. If we can’t find the information out on our own, I will ask Nick. Until, we reach an impasse, let’s keep him out of it. Maybe Rhys knows something, Poppy?”
“I’m not sure how acquainted Rhys is with Lord Castlewick, but I will ask him. I think he secretly loves our schemes. Besides, he’ll want to investigate anyone who wishes to marry Aurora.” Poppy crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes in thought.
Aurora stood. She paced a few feet away before turning toward them. Her hands were fisted at her sides. While her dress, hair, and features were all perfectly in order, there was an undercurrent in Aurora’s eyes of fear and determination. “I have no intention of marrying anyone…ever! I will make that as clear to his lordship as I am making it to the three of you. There is no amount of charm that will persuade me to let another man control me for as long as I live. Once was quite enough. My mother will have to live with disappointment.”
“Then we will see to it you are not put in that position,” Faith said. “Men can go to many extremes within society to get what they want. We should prepare to do battle if necessary.”
Mercy’s heart stopped, then pounded out a staccato drumbeat. “You don’t think he would do something foolish to gain Aurora’s hand, do you?”
Faith shrugged. “I don’t know him as well as you, Mercy. What do you think?”
“I suppose it’s possible that he made the gesture with my spectacles just to get into Aurora’s good graces. I don’t know.” Her stomach tied in knots. She hated the idea that Wesley would have used her to get close to Aurora, but it would explain his attention to a woman of no means.
Faith opened her mouth to say more, but Poppy put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Poppy rounded the table and sat next to Mercy. “You liked him, Mercy?”
“I like the attention he paid me, but I knew even during the dance there was no possibility of more than a fleeting association with a man like him for a girl like me. I never held out any hope for more.” There was enough truth in the statement that Mercy didn’t feel she’d lied to her friends. “In fact, as you and Faith are both married now with much to do in your own lives, I will volunteer to rid the Wallflowers of Lord Castlewick.”
Poppy made a line with her lips that said she wasn’t totally convinced.
Faith gave a nod and smiled.
Aurora’s shoulders relaxed in relief before she called for more tea.
Mercy wished she could run to her room and have a silent cry before she took on her upcoming task for her friend.
Chapter 2
The Earl of Castlewick’s Townhouse
London
Wesley frowned at his cousin as he finished dressing. “Why are you here, Mal?”
Malcolm Renshaw was the only child of Wesley’s uncle. They had grown up together and become good friends. But the constant badgering over the properties was driving Wesley mad.
“I am here to make sure you have everything you need to secure Whickette Park.” With his arms open palms up he gave the appearance of someone who was about to give a sermon.
“I shall do all in my power to convince Lady Radcliff to marry me, as you well know. What I want to know is what good you think it will do you?” Wesley pulled on his green velvet coat with the help of Dooley, his valet.
Besides his cousin’s blue eyes, the two men had a similar look and could pass for brothers. Malcolm ran his fingers through his hair. “You might die without a son and I might inherit.”
He said it so banally, Wesley laughed. “Good to see you’re always hopeful, cousin.”
“Might it not be that I want our family to have back what grandfather lost just as much as you do?” Malcolm flopped into a chair by the wardrobe.
“You have been a great help to me, Mal. I know you want what is best for our family, but your father’s entailments have been recovered. I have done right by your side of the family. I’ll take care of my own business from here on. My father asked me to do this before he died. I only wish he had lived to see the estates all returned to the Castlewick title.” The last few years of his life had all been about this one request from his father. Taking care of his sisters would have been enough responsibility, but when his father lay abed asking for the impossible, Wesley knew his life was no longer his own.
He swallowed down the memory. Giving his appearance one last look in the glass, he told Dooley to have his horse brought around.
Dooley narrowed his gaze at Malcolm, made a bow to Wesley, and left them.
“I have to go now. You can show yourself out, Mal.” Wesley stared his cousin down until he relented and pr
eceded him downstairs.
“Come by my house and tell me how it goes.” Mal accepted his hat and gloves as Peters opened the door.
“I most certainly will not.” Wesley took his own hat from the butler. “Thank you, Peters. I have several errands to run today after paying calls. I shall not be home for dinner. My sisters have informed me they will be walking in the park later. See that two footmen follow them and Mrs. Manfred.”
“Very good, my lord.” Peters saw them both out before closing the door.
Wesley mounted his horse and petted his silken black coat. “Good boy, Brutus.”
“Will you not even bid me a good day, cousin?” Malcolm laughed as Wesley guided his horse away from his townhouse.
Wesley waved a hand. “Good day, Mal. Try not to get into trouble.”
It was a short ride through neighborhoods to West Lane and the residence of Lady Radcliff. He made sure to think only of her blond hair and blue eyes. He made a mental note of how lovely she was when she smiled. Aurora Sherbourn was a lovely woman and would make him a fine wife, along with making it possible for him to do right by his family. It was the right thing to do.
At the West Lane townhouse, Wesley tugged his coat into place and took a deep breath. He had a lot to lose if his charms didn’t work. She would have him or he’d have used stronger measures to obtain his goal.
He ran his hand along his smooth jaw and banged the knocker.
The butler opened the door. Slightly portly, he narrowed his eyes on Wesley. “May I help you?”
There was something both sarcastic and benign in his question. Wesley thought in a house where women were the primary residents, this was the perfect butler. “The Earl of Castlewick to see the lady of the house.”
With the barest raise of his brows, the butler took Wesley’s card and fully opened the door. “My lord, if you would wait in the grand parlor, I shall see if my lady is available to receive you.”
Wesley followed the butler to a large parlor with both austere furniture and a rather whimsical touch with lace and pale curtains. Wesley walked to the window and touched the satin-trimmed in lace. The pink was light enough to be mistaken for white, and the hue appeared slightly out of place with the dark browns and greens of the furniture.
“We are in the midst of redecorating this room, my lord. The curtains are new.” Tall and slender, Mercy Heath glided into the room. Her strawberry blond waves were carefully put into a loose bun with curls framing her face on either side. She watched him with direct regard and those green eyes could undo any mortal man. Her peach day dress swayed along her slender hips and made his mouth water. Once inside, she stopped and eased into a curtsy.
“They do seem a bit more feminine than the other furnishings.” Wesley bowed. “How do you do, Miss Heath?”
Mercy glanced at the curtains before retuning her frown to him. “I’m afraid Lady Radcliff is not at home just now. My aunt is just arriving to take tea. Would you care to join us?”
He should be disappointed. He tried to gather up a good bit of indignation at postponing his intentions. But spending an hour with Mercedes Heath sent a thrill through him just as dancing with her had so many months ago. “I would be delighted.”
The hint of something that might have been happiness flashed on her face, then was gone. “Please follow me. We always take our tea in the ladies’ parlor.”
Knowing that he might see her at West Lane hadn’t prepared him for the actual event. She was even more beautiful than he remembered and he found himself wishing he’d never set eyes on Mercedes Heath. Stepping beside her, he longed to place a possessive hand at the base of her back and guide her through doors. Wesley kept his hands to himself with some difficulty.
“I’m glad you have come, my lord. I wanted to thank you for your thoughtful gesture.” She touched the frame of her spectacles.
“You said as much in your letter. You did not need to repay me, Miss Heath. It was entirely my fault you lost your other pair.” The memory of receiving bank notes from her solicitor each month tightened his jaw.
She stopped in the foyer outside a pair of doors and turned to face him. “I think you take too much on yourself, my lord. It was very thoughtful of you to send the new ones, but I could not accept such a gift. It would not have been proper. As a loan, it was very kind.”
Preferring her to have accepted the gift would not make her statement less true. It had been impulsive to take her loss as his own. The idea of her not being able to read her music had kept him awake at night and he felt he had to do something about it. “They look very well on you.”
A warm blush crept up her cheeks. “Thank you.”
He assisted with the door and they entered the ladies’ parlor. Appropriately named, it was feminine but not simpering. There was a classic elegance to the way the blue and butter colors blended and comforted. With a large window facing the street, the ladies would always know if someone was approaching.
Seated in a Queen Anne chair, a woman whom Wesley presumed was Mercy’s aunt narrowed her eyes before widening them. Her hair was mostly gray with hints of red from younger days, though her skin was free of wrinkles. The same green eyes that Wesley had admired in Mercy scrutinized him from her aunt’s face.
“Your lordship, may I introduce my aunt. Lady Phyllis Mattock. Aunt Phyllis, the Earl of Castlewick,” Mercy said formally.
He bowed. “Lady Mattock. I believe I knew your husband. My father and he went to Eton together, if I’m not mistaken.”
“My husband spoke very highly of your father, my lord. I understand you have increased your lands in the last few years. I think your father would be pleased about that.” Lady Mattock appeared not to be the kind of woman to make small talk. She didn’t speak of the weather or gossip around town, but mentioned his very serious recovery of lost lands as if it were common knowledge.
“I hope he would be, my lady. It is my goal to restore the family estate to what it once was.”
Mercy sat on a chaise just as the tea arrived. The maid placed a large tray with the tea and treats on a low table set between the arrangement of seating. A long chaise, the Queen Anne chair, and its match flanked a settee.
Wesley joined them, sitting on the other chair. He accepted a rose-painted cup and saucer from Mercy and sipped the warm, strong brew. Since the ladies were so free with their comments, Wesley said, “I understand that you live here with Lady Radcliff, Miss Heath.”
“That is correct, my lord.” She stared at him with cautious eyes.
“Are you her ladyship’s companion then? I admit, I have never quite understood the arrangement.” He wanted to keep her off balance. He didn’t know why, but her paying back his gift had made him uncomfortable and he was bothered by her cold assessment of what was meant to ease her way.
Mercy glanced at her aunt, who shrugged and sipped her tea.
Turning her attention back to him, she spoke softly and with little emotion. “Lady Radcliff and I went to school together. We are friends. When her husband died, three of us moved here so that she wouldn’t be left all alone. The other ladies have married and moved away. I am still here.”
“What will you do when her ladyship marries again?” A hint of shame washed over him.
A slow smile warned of danger. “Lady Radcliff has no intention of ever marrying again.” She lifted a hand stopping his rebuke. “However, in the unlikely event that she should change her mind, I will hope my aunt is kind to me and will allow me to return to her house.”
Lady Mattock looked from one to the other, her brows raised. “My niece is a fine young lady. Don’t you think so, my lord?”
The springs of some trap had pulled tight, but there was no way to avoid answering. “Miss Heath is a charming young woman.”
“Indeed. May I ask, what brought you to West Lane this afternoon, my lord?” Lady Mattock asked.
; There was no avoiding a direct question. “I came in hopes of seeing the lady of the house.”
“You intend to court Lady Radcliff?” Lady Mattock brushed a long hair from her cheek and tucked it back behind her ear. “How interesting.”
“Is it?” He wanted to look over at Mercy and see if she was displeased by the idea of him courting her friend. Not that it mattered, but part of him wanted her to care. If his needs had been different, he might have courted her. She was without title or connections. She would make a man a fine mistress, but he couldn’t very well marry her friend and make her his mistress. His mind had taken a turn. He’d never thought to have a mistress after marriage, at least not until he’d danced with Mercedes Heath. Yet, he knew she would never allow such a relationship. Not with him, not with anyone. She would likely die a spinster rather than do anything as outlandish as sully her reputation. When he’d received the note from her solicitor explaining the remission of funds for the spectacles, he knew any chance of time with Mercy under the covers was unlikely.
“I have a box for the symphony tomorrow night. My niece and her ladyship will be attending with me. Would you care to join us, my lord?” Lady Mattock watched him unblinkingly. “It would afford you time to get to know the lady and I will chaperone my niece, of course.”
A war raged inside Wesley. He needed to get to know Aurora Sherbourn but time spent with Mercy was dangerous for him. It didn’t matter, he told himself, pushing aside his stupidity. “What a splendid offer, my lady. I would be happy to join you. How fortunate that I have no other plans.” He made a mental note to cancel the dinner plans he’d made with his cousin Malcolm at Whites.
Putting down her tea, Lady Mattock clasped her hands together and almost smiled. “Perhaps I will invite a few more friends to join us and we’ll make a fine time of it. What do you think, Mercedes?”
“You always have the finest ideas, Aunt Phyllis.” Mercy sipped her tea and let the sarcasm drip from her sour grin.
Wesley left as soon as it was appropriate to do so. He needed to see Aurora Sherbourn and not dally with Mercy. Liking her was beside the point. Aurora was his goal and a silken voice and a pair of green eyes was not going to alter his course.
Capturing the Earl Page 3
