He saw Merry’s cheeks turn pink at his words, and when the hint of a smile graced her pink lips he wished like the devil that they were alone instead of in a crowded drawing room.
Cassandra, who hadn’t missed their byplay, tugged on his arm, as if to remind him of the fact. “You’re a spoilsport, Wrotham,” she said with a practiced pout. “How is any young lady expected to live up to that sort of standard. I cannot think of a single one—at least not one who is eligible for a splendid match—who can read Greek at all.”
Beth, whose eyes were narrowed upon Cassandra, whom Alex knew she’d never been fond of, placed a hand on Merry’s arm. “You read Greek, do you not, Miss Parks? I believe you said so during dinner when you were in conversation with the vicar.”
“I . . .” Merry bit her lip, as if trying to decide if she should answer truthfully, or demur. Then, apparently the truth won out. “I do, as it happens. I have assisted my father, who is a scholar of the classics, for some years with his work. But I’d hardly say it’s necessary for refinement. Though I’d also say that as one who never learned the pianoforte and who sings with enthusiasm but a sad lack of skill, I am no one’s ideal of anything.”
Before Alex could respond, Cassandra was sharpening her claws. “I believe Northman read an article in one of his gentleman’s magazines that said too much education was dangerous for a lady’s mind. Turned them into hysterics, I think it said. You’d best watch yourself, Miss Parks. Though I suppose you’re rather long in the tooth to be considered eligible anymore, are you not?”
Merry’s eyes widened at the blatant insult, and even Lady Katherine looked uncomfortable.
“Cassandra,” Alex said in a low voice. “Behave yourself. And apologize.”
He felt her stiffen beside him, but then, with at least the veneer of remorse, she said, “Oh, I do apologize, Miss Parks. I didn’t mean to imply anything rude. I only meant to warn you. One can never be too careful when it comes to one’s health.”
Fortunately, at that moment, his grandmother called Cassandra to her side, and the little circle of ladies broke apart, leaving the seat beside Merry empty.
Taking his chance, Alex moved to take it, causing both Lady Katherine and Miss Delaford to stop in midstride as they made for his side.
“I am sorry for Cassandra,” he said to her in an undertone so that he’d not be overheard. “She takes after my grandmother, I’m afraid. And it would appear that Lady Katherine has taken her as her role model. Not a good thing if she wishes to marry well.”
“I must admit,” Merry said with a half smile, “it’s been quite a long time since I was insulted for having few ladylike accomplishments. There’s little call for them among Papa’s set. And my own friends are either just as tone-deaf as I am or they have their own secret flaws.”
“I don’t want to talk about Cassandra, Merry,” he said, wishing once more they were alone.
Then, an idea came to him.
“Come onto the terrace with me,” he said. “There’s an overhang, so we should be safe from the snow.”
Merry’s blue eyes widened. “Are you mad? We cannot simply step outside without being noticed.”
“What if I don’t care about being noticed?” he asked, tilting his head. “I’m serious about courting you, Merry. And a courting man is well within his bounds to take his lady for a stroll.”
She stared at him for so long he began to fear she thought he’d gone mad. Then, with a reluctant smile and a shake of her head, she said, “I suppose if you’re determined, I have no choice.”
But he could tell she was more agreeable to the idea than she let on.
And Alex, who hadn’t felt this triumphant in years, pulled her to her feet before she could change her mind.
Chapter Six
Merry had no time to respond to Alex’s action before their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Beth, who seemed not to notice her cousin’s frustration.
“We’re going to play whist,” Beth said with a smile. “I know how you cannot resist a challenge, Wrotham, so I know you’ll wish to partner me.”
She gave him a hopeful glance, and Merry knew that whatever plan he’d had for walking on the terrace had been neatly usurped by his favorite cousin.
He gave Merry a look of apology, but she gave him an almost imperceptible shake of the head, telling him not to worry.
“What fun,” she said to the younger girl. “I suppose I should find a partner myself.”
She walked with the other two into the other half of the drawing room and saw that servants were already setting up card tables.
William, who was looking a bit less harassed than he’d been when she arrived, came forward. “I wonder if you would partner me, Miss Parks,” he said with a slight bow. “I believe we have mutual friends, and I’d like to inquire about them.”
Which she interpreted to mean that he wished to discuss Charlotte. Or perhaps Lottie. How he would manage to do so amid the curious onlookers in the room, she had no idea. But she nevertheless agreed.
She didn’t miss, however, the frustrated glance that Alex threw her way before he allowed Beth to draw him toward a table where his grandmother and one of his uncles were already taking their seats.
“I wish to thank you again, Miss Parks,” said William as he guided Merry to a chair at an as yet empty table. “I . . . I am heartily ashamed of my behavior toward Charlotte. But I promise you that I will do right by Lottie. I plan to place an announcement in the Times of our marriage, with another of Charlotte’s death. I want the world to know that Lottie is legitimate. She shouldn’t suffer the censure of society for something that’s no fault of her own.”
Merry felt her heart softening to him. During the time she’d spent with Charlotte near the end, she’d come to despise the man who’d abandoned her friend without a backward glance. But what could he do in the face of what he’d done but acknowledge it and promise to do better? As much as she’d wished she could keep Lottie to herself, Charlotte had asked Merry to give her up to her father. And she had. It had been a relief to see that instead of the callous rake she’d expected, he was just a man who had been overcome by his own demons.
Putting a hand on his arm, she was about to say as much when a bright voice intruded.
“What can you possibly be so grave about, Mr. Ponsonby?” Miss Delaford asked with a teasing smile. “I vow, you look as if you’re at a funeral instead of a Christmas celebration. Miss Parks, you will help me rouse him from his dark mood, won’t you?”
The question sounded like more of a command than a request, but Merry gave a polite nod as they were joined by the fourth at their table, who was, unfortunately, Cassandra.
“I do hope you are prepared to lose, Cousin,” Cassandra said to Will with a feline smile. “For you know what a ferocious competitor I am.”
Merry had little doubt that the lady spoke the truth. She’d already taken up the pasteboard cards and was shuffling them with a deftness that spoke of long years of practice.
While Merry enjoyed cards occasionally, she’d never been a particularly avid player. It was a pleasant way to pass the time—if one’s partner and competitors were agreeable—but it wasn’t something she put much thought into. As Cassandra began to deal, however, she realized she might be a bit out of her depth.
“How do you know one another?” Miss Delaford asked, looking from William to Merry, then back again. “I don’t mean to pry, but it seems as if you’re very well acquainted.”
Merry blinked at the thread of pettishness in the other lady’s voice.
“We met in town,” Will said blandly. Then, as if realizing that wasn’t very forthcoming, he continued, “We have friends in common, and I was simply asking Miss Parks how they fare. You know how it is.”
Cassandra, who was rearranging the cards in her hand, looked up at this. “I find it odd that you’d know one another from town. For I must confess I’ve never seen Miss Parks at any ton entertainments. Unless, of course, she took the
town by storm while I was buried in Sussex.”
Thinking to change the subject, Merry asked, “Whereabouts in Sussex is your country home, Mrs. Northman? I have a friend there whom you might know. A Miss Ivy Wareham? Her father is well acquainted with mine because of their shared study of the classics. I believe she inherited a house there? It was all a surprise, but I’ve not heard from her since she departed for the village—Little Seaford, is it?”
At the mention of Ivy Wareham, Cassandra’s mouth went tight. “Yes, I am acquainted with Miss Wareham. You might not have heard, but she is the Marchioness of Kerr now.”
To Merry’s amusement, Cassandra didn’t seem particularly pleased at Ivy’s good fortune. It can’t have been easy for her to be outranked in local society by a lowly scholar’s daughter.
Still, she was happy for her friend and didn’t bother concealing it. “That is wonderful news! I shall have to send her a wedding gift. I must admit that I do remember now seeing the announcement in the papers, but it had slipped my mind.”
The news had come while she was at Charlotte’s bedside during the last month of her confinement, so she’d been happy for Ivy, but distracted. It gave her some unbecoming pleasure, however, to see how far out of joint Ivy’s marriage to Lord Kerr had put Cassandra’s patrician nose.
“It was a rather hasty affair,” Cassandra said dismissively as she discarded. “I’m sure Kerr’s family wasn’t pleased about it. Especially given that he’s chosen to remain in Sussex for the remainder of Miss W—, that is, Lady Kerr’s tenure at Beauchamp House. But I suppose there’s no accounting for what mad things a gentleman will do in the throes of love.”
“Would you ever do such a thing, Mr. Ponsonby?” asked Miss Delaford coyly. “Would you move across the country for your beloved?”
At the question, William turned slightly red. His lips pursed. “I am not someone you should hold up as an example, Miss Delaford,” he said stiffly. “I had a beloved once, but I treated her very badly.” At this he looked up at Merry across the table, and their eyes met. His chagrin was genuine, she saw. If only Charlotte had been alive to see this.
And yet, she knew her friend had defended him to the last. Was this what love was like? Did it truly last beyond the grave? Beyond betrayal and recriminations?
She glanced over at the table where Alex and his cousin Beth were laughing over some nonsense, and she felt a stab of jealousy. Not over Beth, but of how lighthearted they were together. It felt as if she and Alex could never get beyond their past, when she’d let fear ruin their future.
He said he wished to begin again, but was that even possible? Looking at William, who was still, it seemed, in love with Charlotte, she thought maybe it was. And rather than frightening her as it had done when she first set eyes on Alex again, now the notion of reunion gave her hope.
“I understand you didn’t come alone from London, Miss Parks,” Cassandra said, breaking into her thoughts. “I heard you traveled with my cousin. How did that happen? For I don’t believe you were on my grandmother’s guest list for the holiday.”
The guests had been given a polite fiction, that Merry’s coach had broken down and Alex had taken her party up in his own carriage while he rode. The details had been kept from the family. At least, that had been the intention. It seemed someone had been snooping, or very likely his grandmother had shared the true nature of their travel arrangements.
“Lord Wrotham was kind enough to offer my entourage a ride when my carriage lost a wheel,” she said mildly. People like Cassandra thrived on weakness, and Merry intended to show none.
“How interesting,” Cassandra said over her cards. “Where were you destined? Another Christmas party? For I must say, it’s quite odd that an infant traveled with you. I know Christmas is about the baby Jesus and such, but really, it’s rather literal to carry an actual infant cross country simply to show the level of one’s devotion.”
It was a verbal assault, and Merry was quiet for a few seconds as she took in what Cassandra was saying. She knew about Lottie, that was certain. And she’d just announced the child’s existence before a crowded drawing room.
Merry glanced around the room and saw that while most of the players were immersed in their own games a few were gazing in their direction, no doubt alerted to some drama by Cassandra’s raised voice.
“Mrs. Northman,” she began, in a low voice, “I don’t think—”
“Enough.”
William’s voice cut through Merry’s words like a saber through snow.
“You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Cassandra,” he said sharply, rising from his seat. “I shouldn’t be surprised, given you’ve always tended to strike before you had all the facts. Allow me to nip your attempt at rumormongering in the bud this instant.”
Scanning the room, Merry saw they were all gazing at Will with a mixture of horror and expectation. Except the dowager, who was staring at Merry with malice in her eyes.
“I was going to wait to make a formal announcement,” William went on, “but my cousin Cassandra has made that impractical. And as I do not wish to tarnish the reputation of the lady who was so kind as to introduce me to my daughter, I will tell you all the truth now. Last year, I was married, but through my own bad behavior and weakness for drink, I left my bride when she needed me most, and now she’s dead.”
A little gasp went up through the room. And even Merry was shocked by his direct language. He was determined to paint himself in the darkest light, she saw, and though she couldn’t say she’d entirely forgiven him, neither was she comfortable with his public self-censure. Still, he continued.
“Miss Merry Parks was kind enough to bring my daughter, Lottie, named for her mother Charlotte, to me. Despite the fact that she had no reason to think me anything but a brute. For which I will be forever grateful.” His eyes were wet with tears as he glanced at Merry.
“Miss Charlotte Smithson was my wife. And she died without me at her side. But I have my daughter now. And I will do whatever it takes to redeem myself by caring for her as my legitimate daughter. Which she is. I shall show anyone who wishes to see them the marriage lines.”
There was a murmur of demurral from the occupants of the room. Merry saw that Alex was looking grim, and wished she could be beside him to give him some comfort. For all that he’d been angry at Will, he also held him in great affection as evidenced by his role in helping him stop drinking.
“So you see, Cassandra,” Will said, his voice harsh, “Miss Parks did me a remarkable service. And the fact that you attempted to bring shame upon her for it is unbecoming, to say the least. I had hoped for better from my own family, but I suppose you took after the matriarchal line.”
With that, he turned and left the room without a backward glance for his cousin or anyone else.
* * *
Alex caught up to Merry in the hallway as his family and their guests dispersed in the wake of Will’s revelations.
“I apologize for my cousin Cassandra,” he said in an undertone, once he’d guided her to a small parlor that didn’t get much use. As such, no fire had been lit in it, and once he’d seen Merry seated, he knelt before the grate and lit the logs that had been laid there.
He took the time to mentally compose just what he could say that would erase the ugliness of his cousin’s attempt to publicly humiliate the woman he loved. For he was certain that had been Cassandra’s intent. And her source of information had to have been the dowager.
Alex would deal with his grandmother in the morning.
“I’m quite well,” Merry said wryly from where she perched on a rather ugly needlepoint chair behind him. “The truth is out now, and though I daresay some will continue to believe that Lottie is my child, William’s confession was sincere. And his plan to post both a marriage and death notice for Charlotte in the papers will go a long way toward clearing my name.”
He’d stood up and faced her while she was still delivering this little speech, and he watched as her blue
eyes grew misty at the mention of Charlotte. It was easy to forget that she’d only recently lost a dear friend. That she was faced with slights against both her own reputation and her friend’s was unfair. And hardly the sort of thing she should face when she should be enjoying a holiday party.
“I should have known you’d face this situation with your usual pragmatism,” he said, moving to stand before her. From this vantage point he could see the soft curls of her hair, which had been dressed more intricately than before, and the light of the many-faceted crystal chandeliershone against the dark tresses. He remembered vividly what it felt like when the tendrils slid through his fingers. How his hands shaped to her delicate nape as he kissed her.
“The true victim in all of this is Charlotte,” she said softly. “And Lottie. Not me. I am simply the messenger. And sometimes messengers are attacked.”
His jaw clenched at the memory of Cassandra’s accusation. “That doesn’t make it right,” he said tightly. “And I have no doubt that my grandmother was the one who informed her about Lottie’s presence in the house. She’s not perceptive enough to have guessed it on her own.”
Merry’s expression grew troubled. “I didn’t come here to cause strife within your family, my lord.” She looked down at her hands unhappily. “If only the snow had waited a few more hours, I would be on the road back to London, and you’d never have to see me again.”
At this, he moved to sit beside her. Unable to let her place blame on herself for something she had no control over. “Have you forgotten what I said to you earlier? I want you here. Merry, I want you to be my wife. And no amount of manipulation from the dowager or my cousin will change that.”
He tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled it away.
“Alex,” she said with a little shake of her head, “I don’t know what I was thinking earlier when I gave you permission to court me. It’s obvious this family will not simply accept a resumption of our betrothal as if nothing ever happened. And what of Lady Katherine and Miss Emily Delaford? They came here with no other purpose than to let you consider them as potential brides.”
With This Christmas Ring Page 7
