“Oh yes. We are very good judges of character. You are not prideful or sneaky.” Ester beamed.
She was glad that despite Mr. Renshaw’s plans, these young ladies had made their own decisions rather than come to West Lane with bad intentions. “Whatever your reasons were for coming, I am pleased to meet you both.”
The twins’ shoulders relaxed as one and conversation returned to music and then books.
Mercy forced herself to concentrate on the moment and not think about Malcolm Renshaw and whatever he might have hoped to gain by coercing these girls.
Chapter 22
By Friday afternoon Mercy’s nerves had gotten the better of her. She went downstairs to the pianoforte at the West Lane house and played for over an hour, only stopping when Aurora warned her she would not have time to dress. The idea of meeting another relative shouldn’t be so daunting, but knowing full well that Malcolm would not approve made her uneasy in the extreme.
Wesley had described his cousin as a snob but he had also said they were like brothers. She wanted her new family to like her and she wanted to like them. Charlotte and Ester were both dears and she couldn’t have been happier about that.
Taking a deep breath, she bolstered her courage and tried to be more like Poppy.
Jane, her maid, helped her into a ruby gown that she had never been brave enough to wear before. If she was going to be scrutinized by a stranger, she was going to look her best. The gown was cut lower than she normally wore and it fell straight from just under the bust, leaving little room to hide her figure. She put on her mother’s pearls and allowed Jane to curl and pin her hair for over an hour. The tiny braids and pearl-tipped pins made her look far more elevated than was her station. She smiled at herself in the glass and felt pretty. Sliding the Wallflowers essential hatpin into the coif was the final step in dressing for any event.
With thirty minutes left before Wesley came and collected her and Aurora, Mercy returned to the music room. She played an old piece from when she had tried her hand at composing. It was a sweet tune but had turned dark with her mood and the addition of a minor key.
“I don’t know that piece,” Wesley said from only a few feet away.
Mercy rushed to close the key cover. “Just something I used to play with long ago.”
He stepped closer and sat on the bench beside her. His warmth infused her. “I didn’t know you compose music.”
Touching the dark wood of the instrument, she said, “I haven’t bothered in a long time. My skill is in playing. I never had much talent for composing.”
“You may say what you wish, but I thought that was quite beautiful. However, if you take no joy from creating your own music, then you shouldn’t do it.” He wrapped his fingers around hers, lifted her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “Are you ready to leave, Mercy?”
“Of course.” She made to pull away and rise, but he held her in place.
“I’m sorry I could not call more often this week. My solicitor and secretary had collected a great deal of work that needed my approval after being away so long.” His voice was soft and he stared at their joined hands.
“I understand. You sent several letters. I was happy to hear from you.” She’d not worried overly about his lack of availability during the week. “I had students to teach and a lot of time visiting with the Wallflowers. It was nice to meet your sisters. They are darling.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I wouldn’t want you to worry over anything, least of all my affection.” Keeping her hand in his, he threaded their fingers together and placed a kiss on the sensitive pad of her thumb before giving the same attention to each digit.
Mercy closed her eyes as a wave of desire swamped her. “I think we had better go, Wesley. Aurora is waiting.”
“First, tell me why the music you chose was so somber and grew angry at the end.” For the first time, he turned his head and met her gaze.
“Balls and gatherings where I might conjure attention always make me nervous. I suppose the music is always telling.” It was only half a lie, she comforted herself.
“I will remain by your side,” he promised.
“Of course.” Pulling her hand away, she rose. “We should go now.”
Pretending she didn’t notice his concerned expression as they climbed into the carriage, Mercy kept her breathing steady and her eyes focused on the street speeding by in the window.
Aurora carried the conversation for the ride to the Savington townhouse. She smiled and went on about Mr. Arafa and the note she’d received from him about his devotion and appreciation of her and all the Wallflowers.
Mercy had received a similar letter. It had been kind that Mr. Arafa, upon hearing that the Wallflowers would all be at Savington’s to support him, had offered advance thanks. Though he assured them that it was not necessary and he would not be in any danger from the earl.
Before Mercy had too much time to worry, they arrived at the extravagant home and Wesley handed her down. Making their way up the steps together, Mercy took Wesley’s offered arm.
Aurora leaned over and whispered, “Mercedes, you shall have to breathe, if you are to survive the night.”
“Perhaps I should have worn a demurer gown.” Her pulse pounded in her chest.
“You are stunning, Mercy. There is no need to doubt yourself.” Wesley wrapped his hand around her for a quick squeeze before returning to a less intimate public display where her hand gently rested atop his arm.
“Lord Castlewick is right.” Aurora stepped in front of them as they reached the door and plastered a soft smile on her face. It was a familiar expression and one worn by most ladies of the ton when in company.
Mercy expected that her own expression was quite similar as she and Wesley entered the grand foyer of Savington’s townhouse.
Lit by several candelabras, the tall stairs set a gilded backdrop to the receiving line where Wesley greeted their host and hostess. “Savington, may I present my fiancée, Miss Mercedes Heath?”
Tall and austere, Savington glared down his pointed, thin nose at Mercy. “A pleasure, Miss Heath.” He exaggerated the Miss as if it were a vulgarity.
Lady Savington grinned, showing large front teeth. “Miss Heath, how lovely you look. Your dear aunt arrived only moments ago. I’m sure she awaits you in the ballroom.”
Mercy took pains not to show either surprise or relief at knowing Aunt Phyllis was in attendance. “How nice that she arrived before us. Thank you, Lady Savington.”
Mercy spotted Aunt Phyllis standing with a group of her friends on the far side of the ballroom.
Aurora disappeared into the crowd.
At her side, Wesley leaned in. “Shall I escort you to your aunt, Mercy, or would you like to dance?”
As much as she longed for the safety of her aunt’s company, dancing with Wesley sounded heavenly. Besides, it wouldn’t do to hide for the entire ball, as tempting as it was. “A dance would be lovely.”
The other dancers were setting up for the Boulanger and Mercy followed suit to stand in a group of six with Wesley to her left. Mr. Arafa stood to her right and she greeted him. “It is good to see you again, Mr. Arafa.”
“Miss Heath, the pleasure is all mine. You are a vision as always.”
The lady beside him was Miss Wallthrop, whom Mercy had known for many years. She was a very kind woman who some people called dim, but Mercy had always found her timid, yet bright if one paid attention. Miss Wallthrop smiled. “How do you do, Miss Heath?”
“Very well, Miss Wallthrop.” Mercy returned the smile before the frown of the tall gentleman next to Miss Wallthrop caught her eye.
Wesley said, “Malcolm, I didn’t think you cared for dancing.”
“You are mistaken, Castlewick. I am fond of the dance if the company is preferable.” He barely gave his partner a glance, though the petite brunette blushed dark red
. Instead, he narrowed his gaze on Mercy. His dark blue eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes and dark brows, while his hair was lighter with a slight curl. He was handsome, but in such a different way that many in the crowd stared at him.
The music began, precluding a proper introduction to Wesley’s cousin. The lump in Mercy’s throat grew and it took her a full turn to find her place in time with the dance. She took pains to keep her smile in place.
“Miss Heath, I believe,” Malcolm said when they were forced to touch gloved hands.
“Indeed, sir. And you are Mr. Malcolm Renshaw.” She impressed herself with the steadiness of her voice. Her knees might be quaking, but he need not know that fact.
Wesley smiled at her and the circle turned again. The lively music was well played and gave Mercy little distraction. If the musicians had been bad, she could have focused on their mistakes and taken her mind off the constant scrutiny of Wesley’s disapproving relative.
Mr. Arafa took her gloved hand. “You look ready to do battle, Miss Heath. Is something amiss?”
Immediately calming her nerves and plastering a pleasant smile on her face, Mercy said, “Thank you for telling me, sir. I shall endeavor to keep my expression more guarded. You needn’t worry.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” He gave her a knowing glance and relinquished her partnership to Malcolm.
“I understand we are to be cousins. My felicitations, Miss Heath.” If anything, he sounded sarcastic rather than felicitous.
Having spent so many years with Poppy as a friend, Mercy was quite comfortable with sarcasm. “And I have heard that being your cousin shall be joyous to be sure.”
A moment of surprise crossed his face before he had no choice but to release her hand as the music and dance required.
Relieved not to have to speak to Wesley’s cousin again, Mercy kept her smile in place and sank her attention into the dance. When the final strains petered out, she applauded the musicians and immediately sought out her aunt and was happy to find her standing with Faith and Nick.
“You look lovely, Mercy.” Faith kissed her cheek. Faith’s deep rust gown was a perfect complement to her golden eyes and light brown hair.
“As do you. I don’t remember this gown,” Mercy said.
Faith tipped her chin up. “I have ordered a new wardrobe. It seems I am a duchess and can afford to have new gowns from time to time.”
Mercy laughed. “It sounds to me like you are quoting your generous husband.”
“Perhaps, but it was fun to go shopping. I dragged Poppy with me and she was miserable the entire time, but she made me go for several walks in the park while you and Aurora were away, so I feel the score is even.” Faith and Mercy both giggled.
She’d almost forgotten the unpleasant Mr. Renshaw, when he appeared behind Faith. “You ladies seem to be enjoying the ball.”
Faith turned and stared up at him. Despite her petite stature, she was formidable with her hands fisted and a severe frown. “Have we met, sir?”
Bowing, he apologized.
Wesley stepped closer, a frown tugging at his lips. “Your Graces, Lady Maddock, Miss Heath, may I present my cousin, Mr. Malcolm Renshaw.”
Once curtsies and bows were made, Wesley leaned against the doorframe of the French door leading out to the veranda. The open door allowed a light breeze to enter the overcrowded ballroom. It was rude to lean so casually, but Mr. Renshaw seemed unconcerned with the slight as he studied Mercy.
In an attempt to ignore Wesley’s cousin, Mercy turned to Nick. “Are you satisfied that Mr. Arafa is in no danger, Nick?”
Nick nodded. “It would seem that while our host is a snob and disapproves of your engagement, he came to the knowledge that Geb is from a wealthy family in Egypt and therefore deserving of his respect.”
Stepping so close that his front touched Mercy’s back, Wesley said, “I’m glad for your friend, but Savington’s opinions of my choice in bride are irrelevant.”
Malcolm scoffed, straightened, and stepped away without a word.
“His opinion doesn’t matter either.” Wesley lifted Mercy’s hand and kissed her knuckles.
Wishing that money was not important in people’s opinion of her would not make it so.
A harried-looking woman of perhaps forty rushed over. “Oh, my lord, thank goodness we’ve found you.”
Behind her tall figure the Renshaw twins grinned happily. They wore matching pale yellow gowns but Ester’s gown had a blue ribbon at the high waist and Charlotte’s ribbon was green.
Ester rushed forward and took Mercy’s hand. “You look so beautiful, Miss Heath.”
“Thank you. You both look stunning and I’m delighted to see you again.”
Wesley frowned but laughter lit his eyes. “I had a mind to make them stay at home for running off the other day, but Mrs. Manfred took the blame for their bad behavior.”
“I am Mercedes Heath, Mrs. Manfred. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Mercy liked the chaperone for her loyalty to the girls alone.
Red faced and in a dour gray gown, Mrs. Manfred fanned her face with one hand while reaching out to Mercy with the other. “You are an angel for sending word that the ladies were with you on Tuesday. I was near panic and Mr. Renshaw was of no help.”
Since Malcolm knew full well where the ladies were, Mercy found it disappointing he would allow Mrs. Manfred to worry. She tucked the information away for a later date. “It was no trouble, madam. I was happy to meet the young ladies and they were a delight at tea on West Lane.”
“Miss Heath,” Charlotte said, “our brother told us of your habit of keeping a hatpin handy.” She pointed to a gold butterfly resting at the back of her carefully coiffed golden hair.
Mercy pointed to the largest pearl in her hair. “They can come in quite handy, Charlotte. I never leave home without one.” She gave her future sister-in-law a wink.
Charlotte blushed and Ester giggled.
The conversation turned to the theater and a waltz began.
“Miss Heath.” Malcolm appeared from behind her.
Heart in her throat, Mercy turned. “Mr. Renshaw. I did not see you approach.”
His smirk hid a dozen questions. “May I have this dance?”
Her traitorous brain could think of nothing to occupy her as an excuse not to dance with him. With a nod, she took his arm and they moved to join the other dancers.
She kept an arm’s distance between them as he moved them around the floor. “Do you have a house in town, Mr. Renshaw?”
“My parents have one and rarely come to town. They prefer the country house. I use their house as it is generally empty.” His stare made her uncomfortable.
When he made no further comment, she felt compelled to continue some kind of conversation. “What do you occupy yourself with? Are you involved in politics or shipping?”
“I help my cousin with his investments and act as a steward of sorts for some of his properties. I am well compensated if that is your concern. Or are you worried I might be taking some funds away from the family that you had your eye on, Miss Heath?”
Dropping his arm, she stopped mid-dance. She had to force her gaping mouth closed. “Frankly, that never occurred to me, Mr. Renshaw, but clearly it has occurred to you. I thought perhaps we could be friends as we are going to be related, but it is possible I have enough friends already.”
He pulled her back into the dance. “Come now, Miss Heath, you of all people know that more is always better. You will find me very accommodating in all things if you are nice to me.”
“I find you repulsive, sir.” Pulling harder to free herself, she stalked away.
Halfway to the entrance to the ballroom, Faith touched her arm. “Is something wrong?”
Flustered and angry, Mercy didn’t know what to say. “I’m going to the ladies retiring room for a m
oment.”
“Shall I come with you?” Faith asked, her eyes filled with concern.
Forcing a smile, Mercy shook her head. “No. Stay here and wait for Poppy to arrive. Aurora may need a rescue from Lord Postmore as well.” She pointed to where an elderly gentleman was lecturing Aurora, complete with a finger in her face.
“Oh dear.” Faith sighed. “I shall intervene sooner rather than later, if you are certain you will be all right.”
“I’m fine.” It was only a small lie. She would be fine. Excusing herself, Mercy wound around the thick crowd and slipped out the ballroom door and up the stairs. A long hallway would take her to a ladies’ retiring room. Several candles had gone out, leaving the hall dark, but Mercy had been to the Savington townhouse before and felt sure she knew the way.
An arm came hard around her waist and Mercy was pushed against the wall. Hot breath blew on her cheek as Malcolm cupped one of her breasts “Perhaps you can show me exactly how you convinced my cousin to marry you rather than do his duty by his family. I’d be very curious about what talents you possess to accomplish such a feat.”
Mercy struggled to free herself, but with no success. “Unhand me. I didn’t convince Wesley of anything. He proposed and I said yes.”
He pressed his wet lips to her neck. “Oh, I think you’re lying. I think you very much swayed him from his goals. You have harmed the family beyond repair if you go through with the marriage, so I’ll offer your fortune hunting heart another opportunity, Miss Heath. I will marry you and set you up in a very fine home in the country with everything you could ever want. All you have to do is tell my cousin you’ve had a change of heart.”
His knee bruised her as he forced her legs apart and he squeezed her breast painfully.
Fear rocketed through Mercy. She lifted her hand to her hair, found the larch pearl at her crown and stabbed Malcolm in the shoulder.
He screamed an obscenity she’d never heard before and stepped back.
Capturing the Earl Page 24
