In Love With a Charming Brunette

by Tabetha Waite

  The single impediment was that she was promised to another man.

  And, of course, the fact he was a valet and her parents would never approve.

  Mercy wasn’t quite sure how things had gotten out of hand so quickly. She’d known the man all of three days, for heaven’s sake! But she supposed attraction struck when — and with whom — a person least expected it.

  For the rest of her time in Brighton she had to tread carefully. While tonight had been the most amazing experience of her life, it could not be repeated.

  And yet…

  Every time she closed her eyes, the recollection of his kiss caused her heart to thrill and her stomach to quiver with breathless anticipation. The chance was, even though she might do her best to avoid Freddie, they would encounter one another again at some point. And that’s when the sparks would fly.

  Mercy sighed. She considered going home and cooling her heels at her parents’ estate with her swirling thoughts as her only company, for her ladies’ maid wasn’t expecting her back in London to end their ruse for another week. It was either that, or remain in Brighton and stay strong against this madness coursing through her veins.

  Either way, it was looking to be a very long week, indeed.

  ***

  Malcolm groaned as he awoke. Light was streaming through an open curtain that he must have failed to close the night before in his drunken stupor, for without his valet present, who was currently in London wooing Malcolm’s future bride in his stead, he was forced to fend for himself. It was why various articles of clothing were strewn about the room. No doubt Freddie would gasp in horror upon seeing the state of some of Malcolm’s recent, limp cravats.

  He moved slightly and sucked in a deep breath, for his stomach rolled rather questionably, not to mention the pain that stabbed him in the temples.

  He cracked open an eyelid to see not one, not two, but three empty whiskey bottles on the floor, the latter of which had spilled some of its contents onto the rug. He figured that must have been when he’d passed out and dropped it. At least, that was what he believed to have happened.

  Malcolm glanced down at himself to find that he was still dressed in his shirt, trousers and one boot, the other standing near the door.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated on easing the pounding in his brain. It had been quite some time since he’d indulged himself on drink, and usually he woke up to find a naked woman in his bed that he didn’t even remember swiving.

  He turned his head and glanced sharply at the empty space beside him, instantly regretting the action. He blew out a breath and thanked God that at least he hadn’t been that insensible.

  He frowned. One more week remained until the house party at the Mansion came to a conclusion. While he should just cut his losses now and return to London to court Lady Mercy himself, he couldn’t leave without seeing Miss Albright one last time. If nothing else, then just to make sure she wasn’t despondent over the loss of her innocence in a remarkable night that he would carry with him fondly for years to come when he was trapped in a loveless marriage.

  Malcolm scrubbed a palm over his face and then rubbed the back of his hand across the bristles of his jaw. He sat up in bed and nearly regretted doing so when it spun rather haphazardly. However, he recovered quickly enough and then tested out his legs. They wobbled for a moment and then supported his weight.

  He stumbled over to the dresser and met his reflection. “Holy hell,” he muttered at the drawn face that returned his sentiments. He would definitely have to sober up and take a bath before he even attempted to see the lady. For one look at him now would surely have her running away screaming.

  A knock at his bedchamber door had him calling out, “Go away.”

  “Freddie, is that you? Oh, good. You’re finally up.” A feminine voice said from the other side. “It’s Lady Beth Franson. I was hoping to have a word… That is, if you are feeling up to it.”

  Curiosity more than anything else drove Malcolm to the door. He shoved his foot into the other boot just so he wouldn’t appear an idiot, and pulled open the heavy oak separating him from Faith’s best friend. “My lady,” he said evenly. “Forgive me if I’m not dressed appropriately, but I fear you found me in a rather disheveled state this morning.”

  She smiled primly, her blond hair piled artfully on her head, and a calculating gleam in her blue eyes. Even the violet dress she wore made her appear even more intimidating somehow. “It’s actually afternoon,” she corrected. “But I’m not here to discuss the time, nor something as trivial as the weather.” She paused. “It’s about… Faith.”

  He wondered about her hesitation, and then instantly feared that something was wrong. He swallowed heavily. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine. At least, she appeared to be so outwardly at breakfast.”

  Which meant she was a mess inside. Malcolm wanted to curse himself for a fool. He should have withstood his urges and forced himself to stay away from her, but with a woman like Miss Faith Albright at your fingertips, it had been impossible to do so.

  He opened the door wider and stepped aside as an invitation for her to enter.

  “Considering how reticent Miss Albright was to tell me why she’d decided to leave the ball early, and the fact she looked entirely guilty, tells me that something significant happened between the two of you.” She lifted a brow. “Am I wrong?”

  Malcolm crossed his arms and wondered how to reply to that query, or if he even should. It wasn’t really any of her business what had happened between him and Miss Albright, and yet, he knew that this lady could be a formidable foe if she chose. “No, you aren’t.”

  “Just as I suspected.” She didn’t sound annoyed at the admission, just matter-of-fact.

  Even so, Malcolm believed he knew what was coming next. “I suppose you’re here to warn me away from her?”

  “On the contrary, I want you to continue seducing her.”

  Malcolm frowned, quite sure that he’d misheard. “Pardon?”

  Her confident countenance never wavered. “I see that I will have to explain further.” She clasped her hands before her. “While I love… Miss Albright like the sister I never had, I daresay she needs the chance to live a little. She would likely have my head on a platter if she knew I was here discussing this matter with you, but seeing as how her life is about to change irrevocably upon our return to London, I have no other choice.”

  “How so?”

  “She is to be married. A… footman asked for her hand and they are to be wed shortly after our return.”

  Malcolm froze. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset by the fact he’d ruined a lady on the cusp of her marriage, or that she was going to be married. “Lady Beth, I don’t know what sort of rake you believe me to be, but it would seem that I should retain my distance from her, rather than further our acquaintance.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong,” she countered. “The man she is to marry is not… amenable. She does not desire the match, but it has been decided for her, which is why this excursion to Brighton has been so important. She needs to spread her wings and fly.”

  “Then why doesn’t she just break it off?” he asked. “It’s not as though she is part of the aristocracy where such a thing a bit more tricky to accomplish.”

  He should know.

  “My father desires the union,” she returned. “He said it’s not good for a young man to remain unwed, so she is rather trapped.”

  Malcolm wasn’t sure how to respond. He contemplated the floor for a time and then said, “Are you sure this is wise? I should regret it if the lady’s affections become engaged.”

  “Or the other way around?” She guessed correctly. “I imagine you’ve left a trail of broken hearts in your past already, Freddie. I’m not asking you to court the lady, merely shag her quite thoroughly so that she can forget herself for a time and stop lamenting her own future.” She walked forward, her blue eyes confronting. “Surely a man of your virility and stami
na can manage that?”

  She brushed past him and headed for the door, pausing at the frame. “We’re due to meet my aunt at Belle Vue Field in two hours’ time for tea. If you arrive, I will assume that you have agreed to my proposition. If not,” she shrugged. “Then I suppose Miss Albright will be forced to sulk for the rest of her time here. The choice is up to you. Would you rather send her away from Brighton with a smile on her face, or as a despondent mess?”

  ***

  Mercy was standing on the terrace in her chamber, watching the waves coming on shore, like she’d done most of the morning, her thoughts miles away, when Beth entered the room.

  “Why am I not surprised,” she grumbled. “You spend more time staring at the sand than the sun shines upon it.”

  Mercy rolled her eyes and turned to face her friend. “And here I thought the sun made a rare appearance in England.”

  “Not as much as you seem to enjoy hiding out in here, letting the world pass you by.”

  Mercy remained silent, having no reply to that, for she had been quite the hermit crab that day, choosing to hide in her personal shell.

  “I trust you are ready to join Auntie and Rebecca for tea?”

  She waved her hands at her sides to indicate her coral gown and then grabbed her bonnet. “I’m dressed, aren’t I?”

  “Good.” Beth nodded firmly. “Then let’s be on our way.”

  Mercy obediently followed her friend out the door where they embarked on a brief walk in the opposite direction of the Mansion. At least there was something good to be had in this excursion. With any luck she wouldn’t risk running into Freddie, who she still wasn’t sure how to approach in the light of day.

  They arrived at Bell Vue Field, aptly named for the house that stood nearby, which had been built next to a windmill, however, the latter had been moved some years ago and now sat in the village of Preston while the area was being expanded into even more seaside resorts. But then, once Prince George had given his stamp of approval on Brighton, with more people flocking there every year to take the waters instead of heading to Bath, it had grown considerably in popularity. Mercy remembered those days fondly as a child, surprised at how much it had been built up over the years.

  Bell Vue Field was an open expanse that had been set up with tents and tables and chairs for an al fresco dining experience in an effort to promote the latest additions to the square. Mercy noted that it was quite crowded, and it wasn’t just ladies that walked among the expanse. Most of the gentlemen weren’t taking tea, but stood about in groups enjoying a cheroot or reclining on the green grass with a book and enjoying the day.

  They spotted Lady Margaret Franson easily enough, her wide smile exuberant and arms outstretched for her beloved niece, although she had enough love to give to Mercy as well. “Girls, may I present Miss Rebecca Lively?”

  Mercy greeted Lady Franson’s special friend rather curiously. She was tall and willowy with wispy blond hair that curled charmingly around her face. She was well spoken and genteel, but when she tried to envision the lady spending her nights with Auntie the way she had with Freddie, it made her blush. But as long as they were happy, Mercy didn’t find the harm in it, and the way they glanced at each other proved their adoration with one another.

  As they settled themselves around the table laden with several treats, a man walked over to serve their tea. He was dressed in a uniform that matched several walking among the assemblage, and when Mercy asked about him, Auntie told her that the servants were volunteers from about the city who had offered their services for the high tea event.

  “Tomorrow, there is to be a fair!” Beth said excitedly.

  Feeling her spirits start to lift, Mercy relaxed and began to enjoy the prospect of some outdoor entertainment, for she had always preferred it to remaining cooped up inside with an embroidery hoop.

  But as she glanced out about the lawn, she froze when she saw a towering figure making his way through the crowd. Her heart instantly picked up pace as the blood thundered through her veins.

  She closed her eyes, praying that Freddie wouldn’t notice them—and at the same time, praying that he did.

  Chapter Seven

  Malcolm had checked his appearance in the mirror before he’d left the terrace house, impressed that in two hours’ time he’d managed to go from disheveled wastrel to insouciant rake. But while he’d been able to perform one miracle, that didn’t mean he could do the same with Miss Albright.

  Her flushed face was visible beneath her bonnet, and he could tell that she wasn’t overly pleased to see him again. But after Lady Beth had come to plead on her behalf, who was he to ignore a lady’s request?

  “Freddie! How lovely to see you! Please, join us.” Lady Beth gushed, and Malcolm noticed that Miss Albright looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, while still being careful not to meet his gaze.

  Her reluctance only made his acquiescence all the more pleasurable. “Thank you for your kind invitation.” He put a hand over his heart. “As long as I’m not intruding?” He glanced at the two other women in the party, watching as Miss Albright’s lips pinched together. No doubt she was finding it hard not to shoo him away like a bothersome insect.

  “By all means.” The dark-haired lady waved over one of the servers and informed him that there would be an addition to their party. He instantly brought over another chair, which he placed between the blond sitting next to her — and Miss Albright.

  He settled himself and then inclined his head politely. “Thank you.”

  As his tea was being served, Lady Beth said, “Auntie, allow me to present Freddie, Lord Devon’s valet. This is Lady Margaret Franson and her dear school friend, Miss Rebecca Lively.”

  “A pleasure,” he returned smoothly, and then he turned his gaze fully upon Faith. At long last she lifted her hazel eyes. “How are you today, Miss Albright?”

  “Very well, thank you,” she said as cool as a December day.

  Malcolm withheld a laugh, for he deduced the lady wouldn’t be charmed quite so easily again. It’s a good thing that I like a challenge.

  “Are you in Brighton for the house party as well,?” Lady Franson addressed him, so he pushed any further plans of seduction toward Faith aside for the moment and offered his most winning smile.

  “I am, Lady Franson. It’s where I met your delightful niece and her equally lovely friend.”

  Malcolm thought he heard a delicate snort coming from Miss Albright, but he decided to pretend otherwise.

  “Indeed.” As Lady Franson took a sip of her tea, she studied him thoughtfully over the rim of her cup. “I daresay I’m curious as to why you keep referring to Miss Albright as though she is—”

  “Auntie!” Lady Beth spoke up quickly. “Don’t say you have already forgotten about dear Miss Albright! Forgive my aunt, Freddie. Miss Albright only recently moved into the position as my ladies’ companion and she tends to forget that.” A speaking glance seemed to pass between them, which Malcolm found rather intriguing, but when his gaze slid over to Miss Albright to find that she had abruptly paled, all else faded away.

  He reached out to gently touch her arm, but when she jerked, he withdrew his hand. “Are you unwell, Miss Albright?”

  “I think I need…” She rose to her feet and wavered slightly. “Some air.”

  He was instantly by her side to offer support should she require it. “Allow me to escort you.”

  Malcolm could tell that she wanted to rebuff his offer, but she reluctantly acquiesced and laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you for the kind offer.” She turned to her companions. “I will return shortly.”

  “Of course, dear,” Auntie said soothingly, her brow furrowed in concern.

  Malcolm inclined his head and then led Faith away.

  ***

  If it hadn’t been nerve-wracking enough to have to sit so close to Freddie while she choked down some tea, when Lady Franson was on the verge of giving away her true identity, Mercy thought she might literally fai
nt. While she didn’t think it wise to walk away with the man who was causing no end of butterflies to flutter in her stomach, it was either that or remain and risk further discovery. At least if Freddie was occupied, Beth could explain their current situation to her aunt.

  “You look lovely today, Faith.”

  Mercy swallowed heavily. She didn’t want to hear such niceties from him, especially when he called her by the wrong name. So it was either steel herself against his charm or give in to it and nurse a broken heart while she lamented a future without him. “That’s not necessary.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Flattery and praise,” she returned evenly. “It’s not as if we are courting and you feel as though you have to compliment me.”

  They had made it some distance away from most of the crowd on the lawn, so he stopped and turned to face her. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  Mercy drank in the sight of him, his dark hair shining in the sun and his brown eyes fixed on her face with a mixture of determination and something… more.

  Something she shouldn’t want to see.

  And yet, Lord help her, she did.

  She looked away in an effort to resist temptation. “I just wanted to make it clear it wasn’t necessary.”

  A gentle hand reached out to lift her chin, returning it to his warm, heated gaze. “I am not one to offer empty esteem. I don’t mince words. I mean everything that I say.” His focus roamed slowly over her face. “I don’t want things to continue to be awkward between us. If you regret last night—”

  She spun away from him to gain some distance, some perspective. When he was so close, she couldn’t think. “I don’t regret it. Not in the way you might think, at least.” She hugged herself, hoping to gain some fortification to continue. “There’s something you should know—”

  “You’re betrothed.”

  She turned back sharply, her face leeching of all color. “How do you know that?”