Her throat bobbed in the most delectably alluring way. “It was kind of you to worry over us, my lord. We are of a hardy stock and were not too badly jostled.”
“I am relieved.” Straightening, he pulled his attention away from Mercy enough to see that Aurora was distracting her mother with some bit of pottery on the banister.
She made a quick glance at him.
If not for his feelings for Mercy, Aurora would be a perfect wife. He liked her tremendously and she was a keen observer. For those who were her friends this was of great value. He wouldn’t like to be an enemy of hers or any of the Wallflowers, for that matter.
Rounding the table, he held the remaining two chairs and waited for them to cross the room.
“It smells quite good,” Aurora said once she’d thanked him for holding her chair.
“I hope you ladies don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for the table. The proprietor recommended the lamb and it seemed a sensible choice.”
Jemima smiled too sweetly. “That was very kind of you, my lord.”
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Shall we go and see the manor house tomorrow?”
“If you wish, my lady.” Wesley had not been to Whickette Park since he was a boy. “It has been closed up for some time. Hopefully the structure is sound.”
“We shall just go and see what it has to offer.” Aurora offered a kind smile.
He gave a nod. “It might be best to keep your expectations low, my lady.”
With a laugh, Aurora said, “I love an adventure. Perhaps not as much as Mercy does, but I’m still excited to see Whickette Park.”
Mercy looked as if she would speak, but closed her mouth and stared at the empty place before her.
If he’d claimed that Mercy had said ten words during the meal, it might have been considered an exaggeration. Granted Jemima Draper barely drew breath while she monopolized the dinner chatter. Still, Mercy was disturbingly quiet. He wanted to pull her aside and find out if she was troubled by their intimacy in the hidden office. Had he hurt her in some way? He was sick at the possibility.
Before he had any opportunity to gain a private conversation, the dishes were cleared away and the ladies went to bed, claiming they were tired after a long day.
Wesley went to his room. His exhaustion was welcome and he fell directly to sleep, only waking in the early morning hours. The sun was not yet up, but he washed and dressed and went downstairs to see if a carriage large enough for five could be secured for the rest of their stay in Cheshire.
Her figure was unmistakable. He’d seen it in his dreams for months and held her in his arms just two nights earlier. Standing under the large old oak, Mercy watched as the sun turned the sky a myriad of reds and purples.
Before he could think better of it, he crossed the yard and went to her. “You did not sleep well, Mercy?”
She pulled he shawl tight around her. “Well enough. I love the early morning before the house wakes. I’m in the habit of rising early.”
“I too am fond of seeing the sun rise.” Letting silence fall between them, he stood next to her as the sky turned orange before showing the blue of a clear day.
Pointing to the rooftop in the hills, she faced him. “Is that your family’s estate?”
“It is Whickette Park. It was in my family for five generations before my grandfather’s blunder.” It took a great deal of control to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“Then you own a great deal of land in this area?” She surveyed the vistas again.
He loved the way her little nose turned up slightly at the end and the smattering of freckles that had spread along the bridge and her cheeks since they began their visit to the country. “A fair amount.”
“It’s quite beautiful here and the air is so clear.” She drew a deep breath.
The rise and fall of her breasts were maddeningly distracting. Wesley turned to observe the views, which could not compare to her beauty. “You have spent little time in the country?”
She shrugged. “Some, with my aunt, but most of my time has been in London. Of course, Switzerland was different. The air there was clean and crisp. It was an astounding place to live.”
“I’m certain it was.”
Mercy looked away from the view and swallowed hard before pulling her shoulders back. “I think I should apologize for my awkwardness.”
Stepping until there was little space between them, he shook his head. “No. I was only worried that I had offended you and you might have lost any respect for me.”
“No. You were very kind to not tell anyone I had been in that room with you, or about my wanton behavior.” She blushed and stared at the ground between them.
“Mercy?”
“Yes?”
Unused to a shy Mercy, he tried to look in her eyes and see what emotions lay there. “Look at me, please.”
When she did, tears filled her eyes.
His heart lodged in his throat. “Do you regret our time together?”
“Do you?” A full tear rolled down her cheek.
A horse bolted from the yard, creating a commotion that sent the animal and several stablemen running and screaming. The wide-eyed beast tore off in Mercy and Wesley’s direction.
Grabbing Mercy around the waist, Wesley dragged her out of harm’s way, deep under the oak.
The horse ran past with men making a commotion that would not inspire the animal to return.
Mercy laughed. “They will do little good hollering like that. If I were that horse, I wouldn’t stop until I reached Scotland.”
“You would think they had more sense.” He grinned and reveled in her warm body pressed to his.
“What on earth?” Lady Mattock stood in the yard with her hand shading her eyes as she watched the chase in the field.
Wesley released Mercy and took a step back. “I suppose we should get an early start if we are to see Whickette Park and be back in time to dress for the assembly this evening.”
Mercy curtsied and moved off with her gentle sway. Elegant and graceful, he had never wanted to hold anyone more. It was unfortunate she never answered his question. It would break his heart if she regretted their time together.
* * * *
From the drive leading up to Whickette Park, it was just as Wesley remembered: sandy colored with vines growing around the front door. Though they were quite overgrown, as were the gardens on either side of the gate.
Beyond the gate the oblong yard, with its low garden in the middle and path for carriages wrapping round, was overgrown and wild. The manor and outbuildings followed the arched drive, giving Whickette the feel of a small village rather than a private home.
“Good gracious. It’s enormous,” Mercy’s aunt said.
Lady Marsden clapped her hands. “A fine prospect. Good for you, Aurora.”
“What must it cost to heat such a massive home?” Aurora spoke quietly, but Wesley heard her trepidation at the daunting task.
Wesley jumped down and opened the gate. He was glad to have something to do that might hide his apprehension. Heart pounding, he could almost see his grandmother with her hands fisted on her hips calling to him from the front steps. “My grandparents kept most of the house closed up for just that reason, my lady.”
Mercy said, “It would make a fine university. I can’t imagine it being useful or practical for anything else.”
Turning in her seat, Aurora smiled. “Now, that is an intriguing idea, Mercy.”
“Poppycock,” Lady Marsden said. “You will be a fine mistress of this house, Aurora. You needn’t sully your reputation by becoming some kind of schoolmarm.
“It’s hardly a house, Mother. It would be prohibitive to live in such a place alone or even with a family. You’d have to move a village inside to make it worth the trouble.” Aurora crossed her arms over her chest
and stared up at the spires with their rounded caps.
Wesley climbed back into the driver’s seat and drove them through the gate. “It’s not been tended to in many years, ladies. Are you certain you want to risk going inside? I have no idea what we might find has taken up residence.”
Laughter bubbled behind him. Pulling to a stop, he opened the carriage door. Mercy and Aurora grinned, ready for adventure.
“I will remain with the carriage,” Lady Marsden huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Lady Mattock took a breath and accepted his hand down. “Let’s have a look. If it’s too unhealthy we can always turn around.”
Once only Aurora’s mother was left in the carriage, Wesley offered Lady Mattock his arm and they strode up the steps.
Stopping, Mercy patted the head of the great stone lion guarding the house. “Let’s hope this fierce beast kept the rats out.”
“Mercy, really.” Phyllis scolded gently.
Aurora took Mercy’s hand and tugged her along before handing the key to Wesley. “I hope this old lock hasn’t rusted.” He put the key in the lock and turned until the latch clicked and he pushed the heavy door open.
It hitched and creaked but eventually gave way with a bit more force. Wesley’s heart lodged in his throat. Light poured in from three flights up. The rectangular foyer surrounded by wooden stairs and ornate banisters was capped by gilt plaster carvings and windows. Dust moats floated in the shards of light like a million fairies awaiting their arrival.
“Oh, my gracious.” Mercy gasped, staring up at the sight.
Her aunt touched the dark wood post at the bottom of the magnificent stairs and brushed her hand off. “Could do with a good cleaning.”
“Aunt, even you must see the grandeur of this. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Gushing with wonder, Mercy stepped through the arch to the right. She screamed.
Aurora turned to run, but Wesley touched her arm. “I think she’s just seen the pianoforte, my lady. I don’t believe Miss Heath is in danger.”
They walked through the front room with its tall arched window. The alcove formed the ornate rounded face of the house and held an exquisite pianoforte. It was covered with a white sheet, but Mercy was already pulling the cover back to reveal the white paint and gold carvings that had been carefully done so long ago.
She uncovered the keys and played, then winced. With a smile and a shrug she turned to him. “It needs tuning.”
“No one has touched it in twenty years, Miss Heath.” The joy in her eyes made his heart pound and he felt lighter than he had in a decade.
Steeling himself, he turned to Aurora. “What do you think, Lady Radcliff?”
Out of place among the dust motes and covered furniture, Aurora peaked through another archway into the great hall. “I am overwhelmed, my lord. Your family estates were quite grand. Are you certain you cannot afford to buy it from me?”
Heartsick for his quest, Wesley knew as well as she that there was no other way he would ever own Whickette Park. “I’m afraid that is not possible at this time, my lady. Maybe in a few years, if you were willing to sell.”
Her smile was kind and she gave him a nod. “Perhaps it is a conversation that might wait for another time then. I have no use for such an enormous estate. It might be nice to have a small cottage in the country one day, but for now I’m content with my West Lane house.”
Mercy and her aunt had disappeared through the great hall and gasps and oh mys echoed through the empty house. “There’s a conservatory.”
Laughing, Aurora fell in step beside him and they followed the excited sounds of Mercy’s exploration. “I think it actually could make a fine school.”
Unable to disagree now that he’d seen it again, Wesley nodded. “I’d never thought of it. To be honest, my lady, I’ve been so determined to get back what my grandfather lost, I hadn’t thought what I would do if I succeeded. It’s larger than I remember. If you should decide to turn it into a place of education, might I be so bold as to ask you to inform me of the plan before it takes shape?”
The great hall stretched at least eighty feet long and half as wide. In the center of the outside wall, chiseled from granite, stood a huge fireplace with goddesses sculpted on either side of the hearth. Windows lined the walls on either side and, though covered in filth, revealed the lake and park beyond. The ceiling cornices had been intricately carved from the wood and three chandeliers hung between.
Aurora stopped in front of the fireplace and shook her head. “Your ancestor had quite an eye, my lord. I doubt I will take such a step, but I promise you will know if my thoughts wander in that direction.”
They walked on to a parlor that overlooked the conservatory. Several windows were broken, but most of the structure was intact. The entire manor was in remarkably good condition considering its disuse. “Thank you, my lady. That is very kind of you.”
“May I assume your intentions to woo me have altered, my lord?” She gave him a knowing grin.
Needing a moment to wrap his head around the finality of what he was about to say, he smiled and bowed. “It seems my affections have been diverted. I hope you are not put out.”
“Not at all, as I never had any intention of marrying you. It might be best if we kept this information from my mother. I will tell her, when we are back in London. There is no point in ruining the rest of our trip.” Aurora peeked under a sheet at a ruby red divan with more gold accents.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Wesley had no intention of courting Aurora. His heart would always belong to Mercy. It seemed to him it was best if her mother knew that immediately.
Stepping close enough that her whisper would be heard, Aurora said, “If mother knew your intentions had altered, she would make our lives uncomfortable for as long as she could. Worse, the object of your affection would become her main target. What we endured in the carriage yesterday would be nothing compared to the wrath my friend would suffer.”
The notion that Lady Marsden would verbally abuse Mercy set the hair on the back of Wesley’s neck standing. “I will not allow that, my lady.”
“Nor I, my lord.”
He let all the information sink in. “I don’t like it, but I can see that a fiction is required. I wouldn’t like to come to odds with your mother.”
Tipping her head, she raised a brow. “Just the withholding of information, my lord. And frankly, it is none of Mother’s business anyway.”
“Very well, Lady Radcliff.” He offered his arm. “May I escort you out? We shall have to get back to the inn if we’re to attend the assembly this evening.”
She accepted the offer and they left Whickette Park. As it was likely the last time Wesley would ever see his ancestral home, he held his breath, expecting to feel some sense of loss. However, as he turned the key to lock the house back up, he felt nothing. He handed the key back to Aurora. “Thank you for letting me see it, my lady.”
With a nod, she took the key. “No regrets?”
“I had hoped one day to regain the property, but I cannot regret what I feel so deeply is the correct course for my future happiness.” Used to keeping everything bottled up, it was odd how freely he spoke to these Wallflowers.
Skirts in hand, Mercy ran around the side of the house. Her cheeks were pink with exertion or excitement as she approached them. “This is the most incredible place. Even the barns are spectacular. I can’t believe what great condition everything remains in after all this time.”
Her aunt arrived in a much more staid manner. “It is really something.”
“No rats then.” Lady Marsden made a sour face.
Wide-eyed, Mercy said, “Only one in the barn, but he ran off. I did see several cats mulling about and have a feeling they have been ridding the area of infestation.”
Aurora’s mother shuddered. “Cats are only marginally better. I’m
satisfied having seen the prospect. Can we return to the inn?”
Wesley helped the ladies back into the carriage. Holding Mercy’s hand a bit longer than was necessary, he let her warmth seep into him. “As you wish, my lady. Perhaps tomorrow we might venture out to the ruins where my ancestors lived before Whickette Park was built. If my memory serves there are some Roman bits left to observe as well.”
Fire lighted behind Mercy’s eyes. “Oh yes. Another adventure.”
“I’ve had enough adventure.” Everything that came out of Lady Marsden’s mouth was either simpering to get what she wanted or sour about something she didn’t want. Wesley’s patience was waning.
“Perhaps you might prefer to remain at the inn then, my lady. The town has some fine shops so you might enjoy a bit of shopping tomorrow.” It might have been more gentlemanly to remain silent, but he’d not regret a day without her company.
Her ladyship appeared aghast before schooling her expression. “I may do just that. I’ve no great need in stomping around some old rocks for nostalgia’s sake.”
Aurora looked ready to burst out laughing, but she drew a long breath. “Back to the inn to dress then?”
Swiveling her head from one to the other, Mercy’s lips turned up but her eyes held confusion. “Back to the inn.”
With a nod, Wesley climbed into the driver’s seat and drove them back. It was a miracle he did so without laughing. His fate decided, he only had to convince the lady that he was the man for her.
Chapter 17
Mercy strummed her guitar in her room while her aunt went on some errand. Aunt Phyllis didn’t approve of playing the guitar when dressed for the evening. Though she loved to hear Mercy play, she thought the Spanish instrument not elegant for a lady in evening attire.
While she loved the dulcet sounds of the guitar, the fact that she mostly played it when sad or troubled had not escaped her. Sighing, she leaned it against the dresser.
The assembly would be a good distraction from her problems and soon Wesley and she would part company. The memory of his gentle touch would fade as well once things were settled. Then her life would go back to normal and she would be happy again.
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