Capturing the Earl

by A. S. Fenichel

  The diners and patrons of the inn all stopped and stared.

  “Mother, that is enough. You are making a spectacle of yourself,” Aurora bit out.

  Lady Marsden’s bonnet sat slightly askew and her blond hair had come loose, making her look wild and unpredictable. Never having seen the stern lady out of control, Wesley feared there might be real danger. “Perhaps it might be best if we left the inn and discussed this over our picnic lunch.”

  “Picnic! You want to have a picnic! I demand you marry my daughter and reject this usurper immediately.” Her face was bright red and she swung her reticule about like a baton.

  It was farcical and Wesley found it harder and harder not to laugh. He looked back at Mercy; her lips twitched and amusement filled her eyes. Returning his attention to her ladyship, he said, “That is not going to happen, my lady. It is unfortunate you have pinned so much hope in that direction and I apologize as it is in part my fault.…”

  “It is her fault.” Lady Marsden pointed a manicured finger at Mercy.

  Aurora gripped her mother’s outstretched hand and pushed it down from the rude gesture. “Mother, your behavior is unforgivable. Lord Castlewick has been a perfect gentleman and Mercy is not to blame. I was never going to marry his lordship. Never.”

  “But why? He is rich, you have property he wants, it is a perfect match.” Her ladyship’s voice took on a whining tone.

  “Perhaps on paper, it is a good match, but I will not marry anyone at this time and his lordship loves Mercy.” Aurora wrapped an arm around her mother.

  “I’m not going on any picnic.” Tears pooled in Jemima Draper’s eyes. “I’ll not be in her presence.” She turned a vicious look at Mercy. “I know what you’ve done, Mercedes Heath, and I’ll not forget it.”

  Wisely, Mercy said nothing. She raised a brow and kept her gaze steady on her ladyship, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  As soon as Aurora had bustled her mother up the steps, Wesley turned to Mercy. “Are you all right?”

  Her smile was slow and she shrugged. “It was to be expected. Lady Marsden has never liked me, and she is used to getting what she wants. I’m afraid she will make our lives difficult whenever she can. You may wish to rethink your proposal, my lord. I shall understand if you’d rather not be embroiled in the scandal that will surely follow us back to London.”

  Lady Mattock huffed. “I most assuredly will not understand. An agreement has been made.”

  Raising his hand in surrender, Wesley calmed the rising temper of Mercy’s aunt. “There is no need to get yourself worked up, my lady. I have no intention of calling off now or in the future. I am honored that Mercedes has agreed to marry me and will do nothing to cloud that path. Rest assured, anything Lady Marsden can do can be thwarted by titles and money.”

  He offered Mercy his arm and, clutching the picnic basket, they crossed the room to the door.

  The carriage waited in the yard. Once he’d helped the ladies in, he stowed the basket in the carriage.

  Mercy poked her head out from the window. “I think we might wait a few minutes. I believe once Aurora has settled her mother, she will join us.”

  It seemed as if Mercy held back more than she’d said on the subject, but she shrugged and hid a smile behind her lowered chin.

  “Then we shall wait.” He bowed to her and wished they were alone so he could kiss that adorable nose. Leaning against the carriage, he crossed his ankles and waited.

  He adored Mercy’s optimism, but assumed Aurora would be relegated to dealing with her mother for the duration of the afternoon. However, not ten minutes later, a smiling Aurora Sherbourn, Dowager Countess of Radcliff, appeared in the doorway of The Smoker. “My lady, I’m so glad you could join us.”

  “As am I, my lord. I love ruins of any kind.” Aurora’s grin widened. “My mother has decided to remain here in town rather than join us today.”

  He opened the carriage door and handed her up. “Her ladyship will be missed.”

  Hiding a giggle, Aurora said, “Indeed.”

  Looking through the window, Wesley said. “It won’t take long to drive there, ladies, and we shall have a fine afternoon in the sunshine.”

  “Very good.” Lady Mattock pulled her sewing from her bag.

  He turned to mount the carriage driver’s seat.

  Inside, Aurora said, “I’m so sorry, Mercy. Mother should not have said those things.”

  Rather than continue his climb, Wesley was only slightly ashamed of his eavesdropping.

  Mercy’s calm, round voice echoed from within. “It is no less than I expected when I accepted him, Aurora. I knew there would be consequences and this ordeal with your mother is only the first.”

  Wishing she was mistaken wouldn’t make it so. People like Jemima Draper would stir up a lot of gossip in the weeks before he could marry Mercy and give her a title that would keep the ton’s mouths shut. Even members of his own family would voice their objections. He sighed and snapped the reins.

  Somehow the ten-minute drive into the hills seemed to take forever as his thoughts grew darker with what Mercy would have to endure in order to marry him. If he could bear the brunt, he would, he must.

  * * * *

  The ruins hadn’t changed since his childhood. All that was left of the medieval castle was the front wall with its two towers and three pillars that likely had once held up the ceiling. They were now covered in moss and overgrown grasses.

  They made their picnic under an old oak. Mercy had declined to eat and climbed around in the remains of the old castle.

  Wesley couldn’t take his eyes off her as, with grace and agility, she leaped and climbed around the old stone fortress. It was impossible not to notice how lithe she was, particularly in the ballroom, and even as she moved from chair to teacart. However, in nature, as she explored the old castle, it was like watching a ballet.

  Aurora handed him an apple. “My lord.”

  Taking the fruit, he kept his focus on Mercy. “I think I shall join Miss Heath in the ruins.” Apple in hand, he stood and walked away without waiting to hear what the other ladies might think of his obvious attraction.

  Standing on a pier three feet high, she smiled down at him. “Was the picnic not to your liking, my lord?”

  “Please don’t call me that, Mercy.” He handed her the apple.

  “Wesley,” she whispered before placing her foot carefully on a series of crumbling stones and reaching the ground easily.

  “The picnic was very nice, but I find myself distracted.” As lovely as she was in a staid bun tucked under her cap, he longed to see her hair flying free in the breeze as it had that morning.

  Biting into the apple, she walked toward the standing wall that held the empty arch where an oak door would once have hinged. “I am a distraction? I don’t believe I have ever been called that before.”

  Following like a moth to the flame, he said, “In the time I’ve known you, you have distracted no less than three men other than me. I think you have been a distraction on many occasions, even if you did not recognize the state of the men smitten by you.”

  She turned, eyes wide, and blushed the most beautiful pink. “Are you smitten?”

  Feeling the eyes of Lady Mattock and Aurora keenly, he stepped closer but not so close as to touch her. “Utterly and completely.”

  Her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way. “You exaggerate.”

  As she started through the arched stones, he blocked her path. “No, Mercy. I am quite certain I could never do without you now that I’ve found you.”

  Eyes wide, she blushed deeper. “You shall make me cry if you continue these declarations.”

  “I hope they would be tears of joy and not distress, my love.” Holding his ground, he would not let her escape him.

  Taking a step forward brought her to mere inches from him
. “I have never been happier in my life than I am today. I never dreamed I could feel so much for another person. Never.”

  He thought the inability to drag her into his arms and kiss her until they were both senseless might drive him mad. “I’m happier to hear that than I can express.”

  “You do know that the sentiments of the dowager will not be unique, Wesley.” Her tone was calm.

  “It has occurred to me, but I shan’t let anyone ruin our bliss.” Wesley hoped he could keep that promise.

  Her lips pulled up on one side as if she too knew he had little control over such things. She took another bite of the apple and cocked her head. After a moment she pointed over his left shoulder. “What is that on the hill?”

  It was a good time for a change of subject. Not ruining a perfect day seemed far more important than the obstacles they would face when they returned to London. Glancing in the direction she indicated, he said, “Those are ancient standing stones from a civilization before the Romans came to the island.”

  Eyes bright with excitement, she practically ran past him toward the hill.

  When her aunt didn’t call after her, Wesley checked back at the picnic area and found it devoid of ladies. Scanning the area, he saw that the carriage stood where he’d left to the far left of the tree. The two figures of Lady Mattock and Aurora walked along a path heading to the west away from them.

  Surprised by the trust of Mercy’s aunt in giving them privacy, he wouldn’t squander the opportunity. He jogged up the hill to catch Mercy just as she reached the ring of standing stones. “Your aunt and Lady Radcliff have gone for a walk.”

  “I’m sure they think you will steal a kiss.” She crossed to the farthest stones.

  He stepped just behind her. “Would I have to steal it?”

  She rested her hand on one of the tall stones, which stood three feet above her head, and closed her eyes. “No, Wesley. All my kisses belong to you already.”

  Pressing close, he let her back curve into his front, and placed his hand on top of hers on the warm smooth stone. Under his fingers her soft skin warmed him further and the strange stone seemed to vibrate. “It is extraordinary the way these monuments seem alive.”

  Sliding her hand out from under his, she turned to face him and pressed her back against the stone. “It’s almost as if they want to tell us their story, but we don’t know how to understand them.”

  Her body fitted to his with heady perfection. “I remember coming here as a boy and wishing I knew more about the people who stood these monoliths up. It must have been something to see. I’ve been to Stonehenge and found the same haunting vibration in the stones.”

  Capturing her lips, he tasted the top and then the bottom. She sighed into the kiss.

  “Do you think they mind our kissing in this ring?” Her hand wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer.

  He nibbled on her neck and traced the lobe of her ear with his tongue. “I hope not.” He kissed down her neck to her shoulder.

  “My aunt will not have gone far.” Her voice was breathy and lacked any sign of wanting him to stop.

  Still, he took a deep breath, let her flowery essence infuse him, and stepped back, wishing he could return to Whickette Park, where they could be alone. He offered his arm. “Will you walk with me, Mercy?”

  She accepted his elbow. “Where are we going?”

  “Not far, just to look at the view and then we’ll return and you can eat something. You must be famished by now.” He led her around the stones to where the hill crested and the rolling land and craggy rocks spread out before them. A mist had settled in the valley in the distance, but the sky was clear and the sun warmed them.

  “This is so beautiful, Wesley. Do…” She started to say more then stopped herself.

  “What is it?”

  “I shouldn’t ask questions. I have been told so by many of my mentors over the years. Music teachers, the headmistress as school, Aunt Phyllis, have all scolded me for being too inquisitive for my own good.” She pulled her hand away and fisted it at her side.

  Taking back her hand, he rubbed gentle circles at her wrist and palm until she relaxed the fingers, then he kissed her palm. “You have leave to ask me anything, Mercy, as I have many questions I will ask over the weeks preceding our wedding. I’ll want to know all there is to know about you.”

  “There is little to know.” She stared at where he caressed her palm and her voice was breathy.

  “I doubt that very much. Now, ask your question.” He threaded his fingers through hers. His hands were big, rough, and tanned, while her long fingers wrapped around his knuckles with strength and small calluses from playing various instruments and were pale in comparison with his.

  “I just wondered if you have a house in this area since you own much of the surrounding land.” A breeze came up and she closed her eyes. Small wisps of hair fluttered around her face.

  “I have a house, Thornsdown Manor in the Peak District. It’s about thirty miles east of here. I also have a townhouse in London and a few other manors and cottages. Are you concerned about my ability to care for you, Mercy?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Goodness no. I just wondered where we would live.”

  “You seem to enjoy the country. We could live much of the year at Thornsdown. It’s a fine house and you would be comfortable.” He liked the idea of her in his house ordering the staff about.

  “I’m sure it’s very fine, it’s only…” She bit her bottom lip.

  “Only what?”

  “I have lived most of my life in London. I like the country, but it would be difficult to accomplish my goals locked away in an estate somewhere and I would miss my friends.” She said the last quickly as if to brush past it.

  “I see. If you prefer the city then we can live in town and only winter in the country. I will take you on a tour of the homes available to us and you may pick the one you prefer.”

  “Don’t you care where you live?” She pulled her hand away and gripped both together.

  Running his knuckles down her jaw, he relished the soft flesh and the way those green eyes never strayed. “If you are by my side, I shall adore any home you choose.”

  “You are jesting. I’m sure you have a favorite and will tell me so as soon as we are wed.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted from foot to foot.

  “Mercy, I will never tell you anything that is not entirely the truth.” He stepped close and struggled against touching her.

  In the distance, Aurora and Lady Mattock were returning and, despite their engagement, he didn’t want her aunt to think him ungentlemanly. He was a bundle of nerves for the first time in his life. Now that he’d secured her hand, he would worry until their wedding day.

  She pushed her spectacles up and took a deep breath. “I feel like you have more to say, but are hesitant. Have I mistaken your mood?”

  He should have known someone who understood emotion as well as she would see his trepidation. He offered his arm. “There are some things on my mind, which I’d like to share with you and hear your thoughts.”

  Taking his arm, she raised a brow. “Tell me.”

  “My cousin Malcolm is currently the heir to the earldom. He is not a bad sort, but he is a bit of a snob about certain things.” Even through the fabric of his coat, he felt the heat of her touching him.

  “You think he will object to you marrying me.” Her tone was matter of fact and held no anger, only resignation.

  “Mercy, whatever Malcolm thinks will not change anything in our lives. I just want you to know that when we return, you will meet him and he may say things that are abhorrent to you and certainly to me.”

  She cocked her head. “You’re the head of your family, so why would he say anything with regard to your choices?”

  It was a fair question and Wesley laughed. “I haven’t any brot
hers. Malcolm and I were very close growing up. Still, he can be very difficult and opinionated. I have told him on more than one occasion that he’s a snob. And of course, there are my sisters, though I’m sure they will love you.”

  With a shrug, she sighed. “I suppose there will be a lot of people who will think the worst of me when they hear of our engagement, so your cousin will be in the majority. I am looking forward to meeting your sisters. What are they like?”

  “Charlotte and Ester are twins.” Thinking of his sisters always brought him joy.

  “Oh! I didn’t realize. How old are they?” Mercy smiled and the expression lit her green eyes.

  “Just seventeen. My parents thought they could not have any more children after me and were quite surprised when the twins came along ten years later.” The memories of coming home from school to those two tiny bundles of cooing and crying flooded him.

  Mercy’s gaze was distant and a line formed between her eyes. “You never mentioned when your mother passed. I know your father has been gone a few years, but when did you lose your mother?”

  “Mother died of a fever ten years ago. My father passed almost three years ago now.” Missing his parents was part of Wesley’s daily life and he rarely gave it any thought, but now a sadness washed over him. He would have liked his mother and father to have met Mercy and seen how amazing she was. His mother would have doted on her and Father would have hidden his feelings but loved her just the same.

  She touched his arm. “I have made you unhappy with my incessant questions. I’m sorry, Wesley.”

  Taking her fingers, he forced a smile and kissed them. “No. I was just thinking about how much my parents would have loved you. Charlotte and Ester will adore you.”

  Lifting her chin, she said, “We have much in common. I too was young when I lost my parents. They were lucky to have you to care for them.”

  He stopped her progress to where her aunt and Aurora now waited under the tree. “Will you mind the twins staying with us, Mercy? I would hate to have them live apart from me until they have found husbands.”

  Eyes wide, Mercy stepped back. “Of course, they must live with us. Do you think I would put them out or send them away?”