Capturing the Earl

by A. S. Fenichel

“Ladies, we must be going,” Rhys called from outside the open front door.

  Nibbling on a biscuit, Poppy arrived and frowned at her husband. “We are saying goodbye. Don’t be so bossy.”

  Mercy loved these women so much it nearly brought tears to her eyes. “A new pact, then. Each year we will promise to spend some weeks away together as a family.”

  “Oh yes!” Poppy agreed, just understanding the conversation.

  “Agreed,” Faith said.

  “I can think of nothing I’d love more,” Aurora said.

  They hugged as one, then turned to the door.

  Kosey stood just outside Parvus and bowed to them.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Kosey. I hope we shall see you again soon.” Mercy loved everything about Mr. Arafa’s houses, both the one near London and this one in the country.

  “That is my wish as well, Miss.”

  They said their goodbyes to Mr. Arafa and loaded into their respective carriages. Mercy and her aunt rode together, while Aurora and her mother rode in Wesley’s carriage. Her ladyship insisted it would be terrible for his lordship to have to travel alone.

  Jane and Aunt Phyllis’s maid, Helen, shared the carriage with Mercy and Phyllis. Her ladyship’s maid traveled in the other carriage, while Wesley’s valet rode atop with the driver.

  It was going to be a long day for all.

  With one last wave, they were on their way to Cheshire.

  “Do you think Lord Castlewick is in love with Aurora?” Aunt Phyllis stitched a bit of cloth in a round frame as she asked the idle question.

  “No.” The ever-tightening band around Mercy’s heart tugged painfully.

  “Nothing else, Mercedes? Just no?” Aunt Phyllis put her stitching in her lap and looked at Mercy.

  Mercy shrugged. “I think he likes her and he needs her Cheshire property. You asked if he loved her, and I do not think he does.”

  “What makes you say so?” She went back to her needlework.

  Mercy wasn’t sure how to answer. Obviously, she couldn’t tell her aunt about the night before or how he would have offered for her if they’d been caught in a compromising position. She would never trap a man that way. “I have observed in ballrooms and parties that when men are in love, they look at the object of their affection with longing and rush to be near them. I have not detected that kind of attention between Lord Castlewick and Aurora.”

  Without lifting her head, Aunt Phyllis raised her brows to glance at Mercy. “No. I have not seen that type of attention given to Aurora. How did you like Kosey’s composition last night? I thought it remarkable. I wonder how he learned so much as a servant.”

  The change of subject was as much a surprise as it was welcomed. “He is an excellent musician. I wonder that he wasn’t always a servant, Aunt. He seems to have manners befitting a gentleman.”

  “Is that why you always call him Mister?” Her aunt put her stitching aside as the road became uneven and it was necessary to hold her seat.

  “I suppose it is. I enjoy Mr. Arafa’s way of life. I like his staff and find his homes comforting in a way I have not since my parents were alive. They were not that concerned with what people outside the house thought.” Mercy could almost see her mother standing in the parlor at the house in Grosvenor Square. She was dressed to go out and Father kissed her shoulder when they thought she wasn’t looking.

  “Your parents were lucky to have security while they lived. It is unfortunate the properties and monies passed to your cousin and even more unfortunate that he married before you came of age. It would have been nice if the two of you could have made a life together with the funds afforded your father.” A rare bitterness filtered into Aunt Phyllis’s voice.

  The idea of marrying her cousin Alfred made Mercy a bit ill. “I would not have liked to marry Alfred, Aunt. He has the sweatiest brow and a look that even at fourteen I didn’t care for. I cannot fathom why the man is always sweating and thus has a foul odor.”

  “You would have done very well to have married Alfred Heath. He is respectable and rich. What more could you want?” Her tone scolded, but Aunt Phyllis hid her amusement behind a gloved hand.

  “I don’t know, Aunt. More.” Mercy was a fool and there was no point avoiding the fact. She didn’t want to marry for any other reason but love and now she knew she would never have that.

  The rutted road bounced them around mercilessly for several minutes before it smoothed out as they climbed a hill.

  Aunt Phyllis relaxed against the cushion. “Strange how poor Castlewick got locked into a secret room all night.”

  “Yes. Very strange.” It was a chore to keep her voice disinterested.

  “He spoke to me as we broke our fasts. I had the impression he wanted to discuss something, but the dowager arrived and he said no more.” Aunt Phyllis gave her a pointed stare.

  “What on earth might he have wanted to discuss, Aunt?” Mercy wished the carriage seat would swallow her up, but she had no such luck. She really had no idea why Wesley might want to speak to her aunt. As they were not discovered, no one else knew she had been with him. Certainly no one knew how intimate they’d become. He had no reason to speak to her aunt other than to ruin Mercy’s reputation. But why would he do that? It would make him look nearly as bad.

  “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Mercedes? Have you and his lordship been courting right under our noses?”

  “Certainly not. He wants to marry Aurora.” Mercy answered far too quickly and vehemently. She’d been shocked by the question. Why would her aunt think such a thing? Had someone seen her return to her room early in the morning? Had she looked as thoroughly ravaged as she’d felt? Good lord, she hoped that was not the case.

  Phyllis shrugged and picked up her needlework. “Men and women often think they want one thing and sometimes realize they need something else entirely.”

  Digging a book out of the small bag she’d brought inside the carriage; Mercy gave herself a moment to compose her emotions. She opened the book to where she’d marked it with a blue ribbon. “The Earl of Castlewick would have no interest in a woman of no title and no finance or connections. He needs to marry Aurora or a woman with enough money to allow him to buy Aurora’s property. He has not hidden this fact. He told Aurora from the start that he needed the land in Cheshire.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Aunt Phyllis frowned but did not look up from her work. “Though I do think he’s gone about courting Aurora rather passively. I wonder if he would have given up already were it not for her ladyship’s constant efforts to push him toward her daughter.”

  “I doubt he would give up. His grandfather lost his family estate. As far as I can tell, he has no choice but to gather the lands and house back, if he’s to restore the Castlewick name to what it once was.” Mercy hadn’t meant to make such a declaration, but it was all true and all common knowledge. She’d not read one word on the page she’d been staring at, but she turned to the next anyway in hopes her aunt would think her only mildly interested in the topic of Wesley.

  A slow smile pulled at Phyllis’s lips. “Pickering Renshaw was a rascal.”

  Mercy put her book aside. “Did you know him, Aunt?”

  She nodded. “Of course, I was just a girl and not rich enough to tempt him, but there were many of my contemporaries who were tempted. Renshaw loved to gamble and he loved women. Even after he married, his antics did not stop and, of course, that was his undoing.”

  “How so?” Mercy sat forward.

  “As charming as he was—and mind you, he was all charm—Pickering played the wrong man for a fool.” A long sigh pushed from Phyllis and she gave up on her sewing.

  “You mean how he lost his estates while gambling?” Mercy asked.

  “Oh, my dear, it was quite worse than that. That is true, of course. Pickering loved to gamble but he was not very good at it, and on
ce he depleted his coffers he began losing lands that had been in his family for generations. It was a sad state and would have gotten worse, I fear.” Phyllis stared out the window at the passing countryside.

  Mercy was bursting with curiosity. “What happened?”

  “I told you that Pickering had two vices. Gambling was only the first. Women were his true downfall.” She cocked her head. “Though, in retrospect, perhaps what happened saved the rest of the family.”

  “Aunt!”

  Laughing, Phyllis continued. “After his marriage and the birth of his son, Pickering went right back to seducing any woman who would have him. One night he managed to seduce the Countess of Denby. She was a lovely young thing and married less than a year. When the earl found out about his wife’s indiscretion, he called Pickering out.”

  “Good gracious, that’s positively barbaric, Aunt.”

  Phyllis shrugged. “It happens more often than you might think, Mercy. In this case, it was over quickly and Denby had his revenge. Pickering was shot in the stomach and did not survive the night.”

  It was hard for Mercy to equate the rake her aunt described with his grandson. Wesley gave no indication he might jump from bed to bed. In fact, when she thought of it, since she’d met him, he’d hardly glanced at another woman and that included Aurora. “Something puzzles me, Aunt Phyllis. Why didn’t the last earl begin the process of regaining what his father had lost?”

  “The last Earl of Castlewick was a nice man. He loved his family and did as much as he could for them, but he had no head for business. He never earned enough from what was left of the estates to buy back any losses, though he did keep them out of debtors’ prison.” Phyllis picked up her sewing.

  Even if Wesley’s father had not been capable of restoring what was lost, he had instilled the desire to make things right in his own son. Mercy ached for what Wesley had gone through to gain back so much. He was so close to getting what he wanted. Aurora was the right choice for him and perhaps for her as well. If only Mercy’s heart didn’t have to be battered in the wake of everyone else’s happiness.

  * * * *

  They arrived in the small town of Plumley near supper hour and pulled into The Smoker, a quaint coaching inn with white exterior walls and a thatched roof. The surrounding countryside was lovely and in the distance the peaks of a large manor house could be seen over the trees.

  Mercy stretched her legs with a short walk over to an old oak tree that drifted like a green cloud with one end pointing out to the north. She stayed outside the canopy of its thick leaves. Rounding to its eastern side, she let her bonnet fall to her back and raised her chin to the warm sun.

  “This is a lovely spot,” Aurora said.

  Mercy opened her eyes and looked out over the rough hills of Cheshire. “It’s breathtaking.”

  “Did your aunt make the trip difficult?” Aurora moved to stand in front of Mercy.

  “Not really. Why do you ask?”

  “Because Mother and your aunt are bickering in the yard and you ran away from the carriages as if they were on fire.” Aurora raised her brow and gave her a small smile.

  In an effort to see the ladies in dispute, Mercy peeked under the tree’s low limbs. “Whatever could they be arguing about?”

  “Mother believes Lord Castlewick has lost interest in me and that it is your fault.” There was only humor in Aurora’s voice, no sign of disappointment.

  Unable to catch her breath, Mercy stuttered, “Y…your mother is mistaken. I have done nothing to encourage affection from his lordship, nor do I think his interests have altered.” Mercy couldn’t bear Aurora thinking that she might be self-serving.

  “Of course she is, Mercy.” Aurora put her arm through Mercy’s and gave her a squeeze. “I know you haven’t chased after Lord Castlewick. Though I wouldn’t blame you if you had.”

  “Aurora!”

  “What? He’s quite handsome and obviously smitten with you.” Aurora sounded perfectly happy with the idea of Wesley liking Mercy.

  “Everything he’s done since Nick’s ball has been in an effort to convince you he is worthy of you. It has nothing to do with me.” Mercy’s heart broke in two, but she knew it was the truth.

  “Perhaps at first. But I think he may have had a change of heart.”

  Mercy scoffed. “His heart has nothing to do with any of this. He is interested in that.” She pointed to the majestic spires of the manor house that was likely the ancestral home of the Earl of Castlewick.

  Shrugging, Aurora pulled Mercy along toward the inn. “We shall see and, in the meantime, I think this will be a fine adventure. In the carriage, his lordship said there are ruins to explore and Plumbly has an assembly on the first Friday of the month. So we shall go to a ball tomorrow too. I’m happy to be in a place where no one knows anything about me or my past.”

  “Then you had better swear your mother to secrecy, Aurora. I’m sure she’s already explaining to all who will listen your lofty rank.” Mercy giggled.

  Aurora frowned and sighed. “You’re probably right. Still, I think we will have a fine time here in Cheshire.”

  “I will be happy to just get through the night without being embarrassed beyond my ability to breathe in and out. My aunt and your mother fighting over whether or not Lord Castlewick likes me better than you does not bode well for a quiet evening.” Her nerves were frazzled and she rarely felt so out of sorts.

  “I will protect you from my mother, but you’re on your own with Aunt Phyllis.” Aurora laughed as they entered The Smoker’s busy yard. “Besides, we have at least a week in this fun place with glorious views and explorations too. Put a smile on your face, Mercy. Don’t spoil a fine time away from town.”

  Her friend was right. They were in a beautiful and new part of the country. There was much to see and do and plenty of space to avoid those whose company was not pleasant. Unable to help herself, Mercy grinned. “You’re quite right. Do you think it necessary to dress for dinner?”

  Aurora examined their traveling clothes and shrugged. “I think we will be in fine fashion for dinner in a coaching inn. Let’s see what the rooms are like.”

  It turned out that the rooms were plain but comfortable. Mercy and her aunt were down the hall from Aurora and her mother, while Wesley was one floor up and had a suite of rooms. At least that is what the maid who never stopped talking the entire time she fussed around the room said. Jane, Mercy and Aurora’s maid practically had to toss the girl from the room to give them some blessed silence.

  “Thank you, Jane,” Aunt Phyllis said. “That girl is a hazard.”

  Mercy giggled. “I think she is bored, but I am grateful for the peace.”

  “Will you change for dinner, Miss Heath?” Jane asked.

  “No. I think my traveling clothes are good enough for dinner here.” Mercy glanced at her aunt for approval.

  Once Phyllis nodded, Mercy continued. “You can go and see if Lady Radcliff needs anything.”

  With a curtsy, Jane left.

  Mercy went to the wash basin and wet her face. The cool water made her feel less covered in grime from the road. A heaviness hung over the room. “I heard you and her ladyship had words when we arrived.”

  Aunt Phyllis waved a hand in dismissal. “I think Jemima had expectations that she feels are falling apart. I don’t disagree with her, but it has nothing to do with you, my dear. You have behaved as you always do, beyond reproach.”

  “No matter how I behave, her ladyship will manage to find fault. I should have stopped trying to please her long ago.” All the wasted moments when she had tried to get Aurora’s mother to afford her some respect flooded Mercy’s memories.

  “Well said, Mercedes. Jemima has long thought herself too grand for anyone’s liking.” Aunt Phyllis took off her pelisse and checked her hair in the mirror. “Well, shall we go down and see if the inn serves a dece
nt meal?”

  Mercy dried her face and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before following aunt Phyllis out. Her heart pounded with the anticipation of seeing Wesley. Other than a passing glance when they left Parvus, she’d avoided seeing him all day. But as she stepped into the public rooms and dining hall, he was a shiny penny among the tarnished ones. His broad shoulders and crisp white cravat anchored the far end of the room.

  The long hall spanned the length of the inn, with rows of tables and benches filling most of the space. At the far end were several round tables for private dining. Diners occupied more than half the tables and many farmers and tradesmen joked and laughed as they drank ale in celebration of the end of a workday.

  Mercy looked away from the crowd and once her gaze met Wesley’s the other people might have disappeared. Wesley stood at a round table for five and waited as they approached. There was an awkward silence where he dragged his eyes from Mercy to Aunt Phyllis. “Lady Mattock, Miss Heath. I hope the jarring roads were not too unpleasant for you.”

  “We survived, my lord. Thank you. I hope your journey was pleasant as well.” Aunt Phyllis sat in the chair he pulled out.

  Mercy made to sit next to her aunt.

  In a quick move, Wesley rounded Aunt Phyllis and held Mercy’s chair as well. “Are you well, Miss Heath?”

  “Yes. Thank you, my lord. I am quite well.” It was hard to catch her breath with him hanging over her ear and the warm scent of him flooding her senses.

  It would take a miracle to survive the evening.

  Chapter 16

  Wesley had been a fool to think it would not affect him to see Mercy again. After the torturous ride with Lady Marsden going on and on about how Mercy was little more than a penniless orphan, and he unable to defend her, he’d honestly believed seeing her would be easy.

  Aurora scolded her mother several times, but to no avail. The woman was relentless.

  Leaning over Mercy’s shoulder gave him the heady sense of her. It was an effort not to grab her in his arms and carry her away. “I’m pleased to hear it. I worried the carriage might not be well sprung enough for the rutted roads.”