Mercy propped her fists on her hips. “When a man makes me feel as infused with emotions as a well-composed sheet of music, I will be sure to marry him. Until then, I am happy to live as I do.”
“Miss Heath?” None of them had noticed Mr. Colby’ approach.
“Did you win, Mr. Colby?” Mercy asked as it was the only thing she could think to say.
“No. His Grace won, but we will play again. Perhaps you would care to join us?” He’d taken his hat off and worried the rim in both hands.
When he didn’t move off, Mercy asked, “Would you like to sit with us?”
He cleared his throat and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I actually wondered if perhaps you might like to join me for a stroll near the lake, Miss Heath?”
Saying no would offend a man who was mostly nice. He’d even put aside his prejudices and had a lively debate with Mr. Arafa at breakfast. Mercy was impressed that he’d taken her words and actions to heart and modified his behavior. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Wesley’s dark green coat, close enough to hear the conversation. Careful not to look at Wesley, she stood. “That would be very nice, Mr. Colby.”
She took his offered arm and they walked away from the party toward the sparkling lake. Once there she retrieved her hand and kept her fingers clasped in front of her. It seemed her company was at a loss for words. Mercy searched for something to end the awkwardness. “Do you like the country, Mr. Colby?”
He pushed out a long sigh. “Not overly, if I’m honest. I prefer to be in town where there are concerts and the opera. I’m very fond of Bath. Have you been?”
“I’m afraid not.” Surprised by the change of subject, she searched her mind for some information of Bath. “My aunt went when her husband became ill, but I was away at school.”
He puffed up like a proud pigeon. “I highly recommend it. A shame that the waters did not cure whatever ailed Lady Mattock’s husband. He was Sir John Mattock if my recollection is correct, was he not?”
“Yes. Sir John was my aunt’s second husband.” Mercy had barely known the man, but he had left her aunt enough money to live on for the rest of her life, so she was happy to have had him as her uncle for a while. Besides, if not for Sir John, she would not have gone away to school and would never have met the Wallflowers.
“Perhaps you might convince your aunt to take you to Bath in the spring. It is a bit rainy, but the opera will be in full swing. I know you would enjoy it as the musicians are exemplary.” Mr. Colby grinned and nodded as if he’d had the best idea in years.
“Hmmm…I shall consider it, sir. We have traveled and will travel more this year. In the spring my aunt enjoys her country cottage, and I often go and visit her there.” Mercy did not add that if she wanted to go to Bath, she would do so and had no need of her aunt to approve the trip.
He waved his hand as if her words were not important. “Your aunt would do well to take good advice. I always take the advice of those I deem wiser on a subject. Take this walk by this very fine lake, for example.”
Either she was missing some bit of information, or Mr. Colby was quite mad. “Whatever do you mean?”
He grinned. “I deem Lord Castlewick to be a man of greater knowledge on the subject of women. He suggested this would be a good opportunity for you and me to take a turn together. As it was very sensible advice and well meant, I took it.”
Wesley had prompted Mr. Colby to ask her to go for a walk. Wesley had pushed another man’s attention on her. Mercy’s head pounded. The blood drained from her head and she stopped to regain her step.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Heath? You look very bad.” Mr. Colby stood in front of her and peered down his long nose as if studying an insect in the larder.
“I think I will return to Parvus, sir. Thank you for the walk.” Turning, she rushed up the slope toward the others.
“Bath would do you well too, Miss Heath,” he said from behind her.
When she reached the gathering, she walked past and stopped only to speak to Aunt Phyllis. “I have a touch of a headache, Aunt. If you don’t mind, I’ll return to my rooms.”
Phyllis cocked her head, looked at Mr. Colby rushing up the slope from the lake and then back at her. “Shall I go with you, dearest?”
“No need. I just need a cold cloth and to close my eyes for a few minutes.” Spotting the approach of Mr. Colby, Mercy rushed away to the carriage where Kosey handed Aurora down. “Would you mind taking me back to the castle, Mr. Kosey?”
He handed her up and bowed. “Of course, Miss.”
Aurora narrowed her gaze. “Are you ill, Mercy?”
Taking her friends hand, she forced a smile. “No. Just a headache from too much strolling by the lake with Mr. Colby.”
“Oh dear.” Aurora nodded. “I understand. Do you want me to return with you?”
“No. It’s a lovely day and you should enjoy the lake. I just need a few minutes on my own.” Mercy was lucky to have such good friends. The Wallflowers were like sisters.
Aurora nodded. “I’ll see you later then.”
Mercy drew a long breath and climbed into the escape vehicle.
“Bath is just what she needs.” Mr. Colby’s bellows could be heard over the wheels rolling away from the picnic.
It was a short drive to Parvus and the same thoughts rolled over and over in Mercy’s head. Wesley had pushed another man to court her. Of course, Mr. Colby was inclined toward her before he’d ever met the Earl of Castlewick, but he’d never taken any bold measures until today. And he had done so today after being pushed by Wesley. Wesley had pushed another man to court her. There it was again.
By the time they pulled to the front door, Mercy’s head really was pounding. How had she let him get under her skin so thoroughly? He never had any interest in her. From that first dance, she had been a means of getting close to Aurora and nothing more.
He must be quite a fine actor to have pretended such passion. “Enough,” she said just as Kosey rounded the carriage to hand her down.
“I beg your pardon, Miss?” Everything about Parvus, Geb Arafa, and his staff was comforting.
Just like her, these people didn’t fit and somehow that made them familiar. She let out a long breath as her feet touched the ground. “Have you ever had a realization, Mr. Kosey?”
“I’m not certain I know what you mean.” He walked slightly behind her as they climbed the stairs to the door.
“I’ve just realized my own stupidity and I suppose now I must laugh at myself for it.” Forcing a smile, she sighed again.
Kosey opened the door. He didn’t smile or laugh with her. “It has been my experience that whatever things appear when you first witness them is the truth even if the path alters.”
“Here we must disagree. I think people play parts, especially people of rank. They play them so well sometimes that even clever women are fooled.” She pulled her gloves off and walked to the large stairs leading to the bedrooms.
“If I may be so bold, Miss. Mr. Colby hardly seems capable of misleading you.”
Mrs. Bastian tugged her blue turban into place and rushed into the foyer. “You’re early.”
“Miss Heath is not feeling well.”
“Oh? Shall I bring you some tea, Miss?” Concern and kindness etched across Mrs. Bastian’s face. The lines around her eyes deepened as she stepped to touch Mercy’s cheek.
Gripping the housekeeper’s hand in kinship, Mercy nodded. “Tea would be most welcome.”
“You go up to bed and I’ll send Jane to help you. The tea will be up shortly.” Mrs. Bastian bustled away to have tea started and find Jane.
Giving Kosey a nod, Mercy went to her room.
Once Jane had seen that she was not on death’s door, Mercy was able to send her away. When the tea came, she sent Cook away as well and watched some sheep playing in the field while she sip
ped the strong brew.
Mr. Colby did not like the country. Mercy much preferred the quiet bucolic life to the bustle of town. However, he was right about the theater and opera. Perhaps a life with a man who adored music was not such a bad choice for a girl like her.
A band snugged around her heart, making it harder to breathe.
Hearts were foolish, stupid things. She had to be practical. Perhaps Decklan Garrott with his Sussex parsonage could afford a small pianoforte. Now her stomach heaved and she set the teacup in its saucer.
What was she doing? Mercy closed her eyes and stood. No one had asked her to marry them. There was no need to panic. She had to make certain Aurora was safely out of Wesley’s clutches. That was her mission. Once that was done and he moved on to another woman, Mercy would never see him again. There was no sense fretting over a man who clearly would like to rid himself of her through any means necessary, including matrimony.
“Are you all right?” Wesley’s soft inquiry came from the open door.
Cook had left it open and Mercy saw no reason to get up to close it since no one was at home besides some maids. She stood. “I’m fine now. Thank you, Lord Castlewick. Has everyone returned from the picnic?”
“No. The weather is still fine and they are gathering reeds by the lake.” He gripped the door frame and frowned at her.
Unsure what to say, Mercy pressed her hands together to keep from fidgeting. “You do not care for reed gathering?”
His gaze flitted from the window to the desk and to her bed. He stepped back so that no part of him was inside her room. “I…Not particularly.”
Swallowing hard, she kept her voice even. “Shall I come down and have tea with you?”
Again his gaze went to her bed.
Mercy’s legs grew weak at the notion of what they might do in that bed.
Licking his lips, Wesley closed his eyes for several beats. “Are you well enough to go out in the garden? There is a hothouse and several paths I have not yet explored.”
The wiser Mercy warned her to stay away from a man who first foists another man at her and then comes to find out if she is ill. “You are a puzzle, my lord.”
“Even to myself,” he said on a sigh.
“You are planning to court my dearest friend. Why should you wish to walk with me in the gardens?” There was no sense skirting the issue. What did she care if he thought her bold or brash?
His smile was entirely too disarming. “It is only a walk, Mercy. If I wanted to ravage you, I could just walk into the room and do so.”
“And you think I would permit that?” The words blurted out of her mouth indignantly before she could steady herself. He thought her a trollop. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but she held the back of her chair and kept a steady footing.
“I don’t know what you would permit, Mercy.” He didn’t move. “You are as much a puzzle to me as I seem to be to you.”
Stepping forward, she fisted her hands at her sides. “Then let me be quite clear. I am no lightskirt to be toyed with, my lord. I do not give you permission to use my first name. We are not friends. You want to marry my friend and she does not wish to marry at all. She is tolerating you because of her mother and for no other reason. You think your title can buy you anything. You are no different than any other spoiled lord. I let the way you look at me when I play go to my head, God help me. It was foolish and dangerous. Do not seek me out in this manner again.” Mercy gripped the heavy oak door and closed it sharply in Wesley Renshaw’s wide-eyed face.
For safety against herself more than him, she threw the bolt before she went to the bed and cried into the pillow.
* * * *
Unsure how much time had passed, Mercy startled when a knock came to her door. She went to the wash basin and wet her face and dried it before going to the door.
When she opened it, the hallway was empty. On the stone floor lay an envelope with “Miss Heath” written in a fine hand across the front.
Taking it, she peered down the corridor in both directions and found no one. Mercy stepped back and closed the door. Wesley’s fine handwriting lined the letter.
My Dear Miss Heath,
Forgive me. My behavior with regard to you has been abominable. I cannot tell you why you bring out the worst part of my nature, but the fault lies completely with me.
From the moment we danced all those months ago, my mind has continued to stray toward thoughts of you rather than where is should be. Let me assure you, that will no longer be the case.
I have responsibilities to my family and my title. As you know, others in my line neglected their duty and have left me to clean up a rather large mess. I shall not give further detail as it is not possible the gossip of London hasn’t set the entire story at your doorstep by now.
I shall tell you honestly one thing and then never speak of it again. If I were free to do as I wish, I would properly court you in the manner you deserve.
My desire to court Lady Radcliff is sincere and without reproach. Forgive me if this information is unpleasant to you. It is a truth and I see no reason to keep silent on the matter as it is an amicable match and the lady is aware of my intentions.
You, I am sure, will also make a good match. You are a bright, talented, and beautiful woman. Any man would be lucky to have you for his wife.
As we must remain at this party for many more days, I propose a truce. I wish you only good things, Miss Heath. You must believe me when I tell you this. My hope for your continued and future happiness is in absolute earnest.
Please accept my apology and request for friendship between us.
With great admiration,
Your friend,
Wesley Renshaw.
Mercy put the letter on the desk and sat back against the hard wood chair. In one short note, he had said all that she would ever need to know. He wanted her, but he would not pursue her because she was not rich enough.
Footsteps in the hallway alerted her that the others had returned. Standing, she folded the letter and tucked it inside her bodice. Later, when she had the strength, she would burn it and never think of it again.
Yes, that is what she would do.
She pressed her hand against the parchment tucked between her dress and her chemise and an ache from that constant band tightening around her heart emanated outward.
The Wallflowers knocked and rushed in.
Mercy attempted a smile.
“Good lord, what’s happened?” Aurora flew across the room and pulled her into her arms.
Poppy closed the door.
Faith appeared ready to do battle.
Mercy let the sobs out again. She pulled the letter from her bodice and handed it over to Aurora.
Chapter 12
Without a wink of sleep, Wesley hesitated to go below to break his fast. His head hurt almost as much as his stupid heart. He would hold the look of disdain in Mercy’s eyes as she scolded him in the hallway for the rest of his life. And rightfully so. He had no business worrying after a woman who was not his concern.
He would never have her and he needed to accept that before he did more damage to his reputation in her eyes. It was bad enough to live with the fact that he’d considered making her his mistress; it was unthinkable for her to know how base he really was.
Her good opinion shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t matter. Aurora was the woman he would marry. She was titled, the daughter of an earl, and she held the title to his ancestral home. Nothing would get in the way of his goals, not even his own ridiculous desires.
Steeling his emotions and placing them under tight control, he stepped into the dining room. As the worst possible scenario seemed to always follow him, Mercy sat in the center of the table surrounded by her Wallflower friends.
They all turned to look at him.
Mercy’s cheeks were rosy and he
r eyes clear, with no sign of distress marring those green orbs that haunted him day and night. She raised her brows. “Did you not sleep well, my lord?”
The entire situation was unbearable. “I’m afraid not, Miss Heath.”
“That’s unfortunate,” said Aurora. “Was your bed not to your liking?”
A muffled sound that was half cough and half laugh, if Wesley wasn’t mistaken, came from Poppy, who covered her mouth with her hand.
What could he say? “One never sleeps as well when not in one’s own bed. At least, that has been my experience.”
“You look positively drawn out. Mr. Kosey, bring his lordship some coffee, please.” Faith smiled at the butler and then at Wesley.
“Right away.” Kosey left in the direction of the kitchen.
“Thank you, Kosey. Ladies, you are all too kind.” He took a plate and contemplated the buffet. All his favorites were there, but none of it was appealing.
It wouldn’t do to have nothing on his plate when he sat and he couldn’t run for the hills no matter how tempting it was. Slopping coddled eggs and sausage on his plate, he gave himself an extra moment to settle his anxiety before pulling back his shoulders and sitting at the table.
Kosey arrived with his coffee and a plate of toast. “I thought some toast, my lord.”
“Thank you. This is perfect.” Pushing his eggs and meat aside, he took a slice and spread it with butter from a crock on the table.
Faith held a teacup in front of her mouth, but amusement lit her eyes. “My lord, has your lack of sleep damaged your appetite as well?”
“It would seem so, Your Grace.”
Mercy watched and kept the slight smile plastered on her lips. He’d noticed she always did this when she didn’t want anyone to know what she was really thinking. Despite her efforts, he saw concern in her eyes and longed to know if it was for him or if something else troubled her. Had his letter done more harm than good?
The entire situation was pitiable.
He forced his attention to his toast and coffee and allowed himself to be satisfied that the strong brew was better than any he’d had in his own home and the toast would keep him fortified until his appetite returned.
Capturing the Earl Page 13
