Capturing the Earl

by A. S. Fenichel

  With no room to run, she stepped in and thrust her knee between his legs.

  Gripping himself, he tumbled to the floor, cursing her.

  Mercy ran down the hall to the stairs and rushed down them as quickly as she could.

  At the front door, she rushed outside and directly into Poppy and Rhys.

  “Zeus’s beard, what’s wrong?” Poppy gripped her hand.

  Hugging Poppy tight, Mercy said. “Can you take me home?”

  Rhys scanned the area for danger. “What happened?”

  “Oh, Rhys, don’t ask me that. Can you just take me home?”

  His jaw ticked and he searched Mercy’s face before looking to his wife. “Of course, we will drive you home.”

  Chapter 23

  Wesley had left the ball shortly after learning Mercy had gone home. He wanted to go directly to West Lane, but Poppy and Rhys assured him she was feeling ill and needed to rest.

  He arrived home to his butler, Peters, and a message waiting on the silver tray on his desk. Wesley had noticed the lovely handwriting from the messages that had accompanied her paying him back for her spectacles. He would know her scrolling hand anywhere, it was as willowy as the lady.

  Heart pounding like a boy in love for the first time, he broke the seal. She had thoroughly woven her way into his heart and he longed for even this small note from her.

  Dear Lord Castlewick,

  This evening has proved very upsetting. I have not enjoyed a proper family life since my childhood, and perhaps am misguided in my beliefs. However, I think of my friends from school and my aunt as family and they would never wish me harm for any reason. Yet your cousin seems to have little regard for your happiness. I’m sorry to deliver this type of news and it might have been better to wait until the emotions of the evening had subsided, but my impulse aside, it seems our marriage will create a deep rift in your family. There is also some indication that your entire family will be irreparably damaged by our union.

  You were kind enough to inform me of your close relationship with your cousin. I do not wish to be a barrier between you. However, I refuse to ever be in his presence again. If you wish to alter your desire to marry me, I will be disappointed, but understand.

  Forgive me for wanting a life without drama and relations who wish to do me harm. I know you wished only good for me.

  With sincere regret,

  Mercedes Heath.

  Fury seethed through Wesley to the point where he had difficulty focusing his vision. He crushed the letter in his hand, then thought better of it and smoothed it out before reading it again.

  “Peters! Call the carriage back.” He stormed into the foyer. The urge to smash the entry table into the scrolling baluster and stairs had to be wrestled down.

  With his coat unbuttoned, Peters appeared, eyes wide. “You are going back out, my lord.”

  “I’m going to pay a call on my cousin.” Wesley waved Mercy’s letter in the air as if that were all anyone needed to see. “Never mind the carriage, a brisk walk will do me good.”

  The experienced butler bowed and backed away.

  The night air did little to cool Wesley’s fury and he arrived at Malcolm’s townhouse even more irate than when he’d left home. He pounded on the door.

  In his robe, the young butler opened the door, saw who it was, and pulled it fully open. “My lord, Mr. Renshaw was not expecting company at this hour.”

  Malcolm stepped from the study to the right. “It’s all right, Ward. My cousin is the head of my family and has every right to call no matter the hour.”

  Ward stepped aside, allowed Wesley to enter, and closed the door before making himself scarce.

  “I suppose she told you.” Malcolm limped slightly and went back in his study. He stepped to the glass table, where he poured two draughts of brandy.

  “What did she have to tell me, Mal?” Wesley narrowed his eyes.

  Turning, Malcolm gave back a similar look. “I assumed you had a conversation with Miss Heath and you are angry at me. Am I mistaken as to the nature of this visit?”

  “Miss Heath is my fiancée and she wrote me to tell me that she doesn’t think she wishes to be a part of my family. Why would she say such a thing, Mal?” Wesley took the brandy and downed it.

  Malcolm stared into his glass, then at the floor. When he looked up, he appeared genuinely bewildered. “She didn’t tell you of our conversation? She ended your engagement?”

  “Don’t get yourself too excited. She left it to me to end our betrothal and I have no intention of letting her go. I would sooner let you disappear from my life, Mal, than her. Do I make myself clear?” Pain at losing his close friend and cousin battled inside Wesley. However, it paled in comparison with his need for morning to come so he could beg Mercy to reconsider.

  After drinking most of his brandy, Malcolm rounded his desk, put the glass down, and leaned both hands on the surface. He stared long at the polished wood before finally looking up. His eyes showed pain and regret in their depths. “I tested her, Wes.”

  “You did what? How?”

  Malcolm shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I thought she had bewitched you with her wiles and tricked you into proposing. I knew it would take something really terrible to force you to put her aside, so I tested her.

  Never having seen his cousin contrite, Wesley took in the new emotion. In doing so, he also noted that his white blouse had a bloodstain on the left shoulder. “From the look of you, I’m guessing Mercy passed your abhorrent test. Would you care to tell me the nature of your pursuit?”

  Shaking his head, Malcolm said, “I fear doing so would only embarrass the lady and I have done enough of that for one evening. If she wishes to tell you, I will leave it to her.”

  “You will apologize to her and, if necessary, beg her forgiveness.” Still seething, Wesley saw his perfect life with Mercy slipping away over the stupidity of his cousin.

  “I will do what I can to make amends.” Malcolm sank into his chair.

  Wesley stepped to the desk and put down his glass. “I shall go at ten as the household rises early on West Lane. I expect you there at eleven, Mal.”

  “I am sorry, Wes.”

  “I do not require your contrition. Save it for Miss Heath and pray she is benevolent.” Wesley stormed from his cousin’s townhouse and didn’t bother to close the front door as he struggled to catch his breath.

  * * * *

  Wesley bathed, dressed, and waited for the appropriate time to pay a call at West Lane. He was tempted to ride over at dawn since he knew Mercy would likely be awake. It would have been rude and impertinent, but it took all of his willpower to continue to shuffle paper on his desk while the bells on his hallway clock chimed the hours.

  He checked the damned thing twice to make sure it had been properly wound, only to find the hateful thing ticking away.

  Finally, nine forty-five rang out and he donned his coat and hat. His horse was brought around and he mounted without a word to his footman as he rode away.

  It was a few minutes before ten when he arrived and knocked on the West Lane townhouse door.

  Tipton opened the door, raised a brow, and waited more beats than were comfortable. “My Lord Castlewick, the hour is quite early. The ladies and Lord Marsden are breaking their fasts.”

  “I intend to enter regardless of anyone’s meal being interrupted, Tipton.” Wesley kept his tone flat. The butler was doing his job. There was no sense creating a scene in clear view of the street.

  “I see.” Raising his brow, Tipton stepped aside. “Follow me, my lord.”

  The dining room doors were left open and two footmen flanked the wide entry.

  Tipton preceded him in. “The Earl of Castlewick for Miss Heath.”

  Mercy was the only one of the four people at the table not to turn her head. She put her f
ork aside and clung to the napkin in her lap.

  Wesley bowed. “I apologize for arriving so early, but I was met last night by a disturbing letter upon my return home. It was all I could do not to come directly here at that time.”

  Marsden stood. “You might wish to come back another time, my lord. Miss Heath is quite upset and does not wish to see anyone outside of family.”

  Taking a step forward, Wesley pulled her letter from the inside pocket of his coat. “Mercy, if you wish for me to go, I will, but this letter has shattered my world and I would like an explanation.”

  Her eyes swam with unshed tears and her nose was red and swollen. “The letter explained my position.”

  “I understand my cousin did something that upset you. I have already been to see him and he refused to tell me what exactly he did. He said telling me would embarrass you further and he had already done enough.” Wesley shifted his weight rather than drop to his knees and beg her to take back the things she said in the letter.

  “You went to see him?” She dabbed at her tears.

  He knelt beside her anyway. “Of course. I went directly after I got home and read this.” He shook the sheet of parchment.

  Turing away, she said, “Why would he care about my feelings? He didn’t care about them last night.”

  “What did he do, Mercy?” Holding his temper was becoming more and more difficult.

  Fire snapped in her eyes. “He inferred that my only goal was to gain your money. He said I was ruining your family for all time. He treated me like a woman of low values.”

  Biting down a curse, Wesley knew he should have beaten Malcolm when he’d had the chance. “I am sorry, but it does not explain why you would walk away from what we have. I would sooner disown Malcolm than lose you. We shall have our own family just as you have made a family here at West Lane. You need never worry about Malcolm again if you cannot forgive him.”

  “Forgive him!” Mercy stood and backed away.

  Getting to his feet, Wesley opened his arms in surrender. “I told him to be here at eleven to formally apologize to you.”

  “Oh, Hades Gate.” Poppy tossed her napkin on the table. “I suppose that means he’s recovered from his injuries.”

  Aurora snickered. “Poppy, now might not be the time for sarcasm.”

  Rhys sat back down. “In my world, there is always time for sarcasm.”

  “Injuries?” Wesley asked.

  Aurora slid her hand up to her bun and withdrew a long hatpin. “Wallflowers always keep a hatpin or two available in case some man forgets he’s a gentleman.”

  Poppy slipped a similar weapon from the sleeve of her gown.

  “You stabbed Malcolm.” Wesley had a hard time keeping a straight face.

  With her hands crossed over her chest, Mercy faced him. “To get him to release me, but that wasn’t enough to give me an escape, so I did what Aunt Phyllis always suggested in such cases.”

  Before he could ask after her aunt’s instructions, Mercy stormed from the room. He turned to Poppy as she was generally the most direct of the Wallflowers of West Lane.

  “She struck him with her knee in a delicate area.” Poppy smirked and raised a brow as if to issue a challenge.

  Wesley didn’t know whether to be mortified that she was put into such a position by his relation, or to be proud that she defended herself so admirably. “He deserved far worse.”

  “On that point we are in agreement, my lord.” Aurora stared at him.

  The pianoforte strains echoed through the house.

  Turning, Wesley stepped toward the hallway.

  “You may as well wait until she’s played herself out,” Poppy said.

  “My wife is right, Castlewick. It is Mercy’s way.” Rhys put his napkin back in his lap and turned toward his plate.

  Wesley exited, walked down the hall, and stopped just a few feet inside the music room.

  The fresh, bright room must have been recently redecorated as it, and many of the rooms in Aurora’s home, were a juxtaposition to the gloomy exterior typical of these older London townhouses. In contrast, the piece Mercy played was dark and full or pain. The minor key gave a dirge-like tone, yet the emotion put forth to produce such emotions was remarkable.

  This was her escape from the world. She played out her feelings and he was blessed to stand in the room and listen. Unable to bear the idea that this might be the last time he was so fortunate, Wesley’s gut twisted. If he had to return to West Lane for the rest of his days, he would convince this spectacular woman that they were meant for each other.

  The sound of footsteps in the hall forced him to turn.

  Wide-eyed, Malcolm stood in the doorway. His voice was hushed. “Dear lord, she’s a miracle on the pianoforte.”

  Wesley narrowed his gaze on his cousin. “She’s a miracle in all things, Mal.”

  With a nod, Malcolm took a deep breath and crossed the music room to where Mercy played.

  Wesley remained near the door, but kept still. He would protect her, but forgiving his cousin would be her choice alone.

  Stopping about five feet from her, but in full view, Malcolm stood with his hands behind his back and waited. When she played the last note and put her hands in her lap, he bowed. “Miss Heath.”

  “I am at a loss for why you are here, Mr. Renshaw, beyond the fact that the head of your family commanded you arrive this morning.” Her voice held strength and assuredness that the somber composition of the music had not.

  “My appearance this morning is at my cousin’s command. However, I would have sought you out at some point to make a formal apology. I expected a woman of little morals when I approached you last evening. I had no evidence beyond gossip about you’re having secured my cousin’s affection. I know better than to believe such things. Had you purred and simpered or taken a haughty turn, I would have guessed the gossips were correct. However, you did neither. You pushed me aside and defended yourself, quite amply too.” He rubbed his injured shoulder.

  Mercy stood and rounded the bench. “You were testing my worthiness for Wesley?”

  “I was worried that my cousin had been pushed into proposing by a seasoned woman of persuasive charms. I find I was mistaken. I deeply regret my behavior and am ashamed.” Malcolm opened his arms, palms up in defeat.

  Turning away from him, Mercy surveyed the garden. “I had hoped we would be as family, Mr. Renshaw. I do not know if I can ever forgive you. You made me feel unsafe and a victim. I love your cousin and therefore I will not allow him to disown you after our marriage. Perhaps one day we might become friends, but that day will not be today.”

  She was going to marry him. Wesley’s heart, which had clutched tightly, began to beat again.

  Malcolm bowed. “Of course. I understand. I will await the day when I have proved myself worthy of that forgiveness.”

  Head held high, she gave him a nod and watched as he walked away.

  With a brief bow to Wesley, Malcolm left.

  As soon as he heard the front door close behind his cousin, Wesley went to her. Even as tall as Mercy was for a woman; standing alone beside the large pianoforte and tall windows, she appeared lost.

  When he reached the end of the instrument, he stopped, unsure what she needed. Her eyes glistened with emotion. She had been made to feel small by his cousin and Wesley was to blame. Again, he had not protected her as he should.

  Hopeful but uncertain, he opened his arms.

  Mercy rushed into his embrace. Her head tucked into his chest and her arms came around him.

  Folding her in his arms, Wesley breathed in her essence. “I don’t know how you will ever forgive me, but I am begging, Mercy. I have failed time and time again to protect you. I shall never atone for my stupidity.”

  Muffled by his coat, her voice was soft and tight with emotion. “Just hold me, Wesley. I alwa
ys feel safe in your arms. Besides, I have long taken care of myself. Surely you don’t think your cousin is the first man to feel the point of my hatpin.”

  He wished he could have seen Malcolm’s face when he realized a woman had stabbed him. “You nearly skewered me once. I would never have underestimated your abilities.”

  Snuggling in closer, she sighed. “I dare say your cousin shan’t do so again.”

  Holding her by the shoulders, he eased her far enough away that she could see his face. “You never have to worry about Mal again. I’m shocked by his behavior, but I really don’t believe he would have harmed you. In any event, you will never be left alone with him again. I will see to it.”

  Mercy relaxed against him. “I shall always be ready to defend myself should he or anyone forget their manners.”

  “I will disown him if that would make you more comfortable with our marriage.” A knot formed in his gut.

  “No. We shall give him the opportunity to make amends. He told me he helps you with the family estates and investments. Perhaps he meant to protect you. I don’t know. I’m sorry about the letter I wrote.”

  The air went out of him at the mention of that letter. Releasing her, he sat on the bench. “Your words tore my heart out. Never say you would leave me, Mercedes. I cannot bear the idea of living without you.”

  She stepped between his knees. “I promise, I will never leave you, Wesley. Not in this lifetime or the next.”

  The ache in his heart eased and he pressed his forehead to her abdomen. Her hands threaded through his hair and she held him.

  Heaven.

  Chapter 24

  Mercy should have been exhausted after the day she’d had, but she was too happy and excited to even think of sleep. She touched the family brooch at her neck, a gift from Aunt Phyllis, and thought of her mother.

  After the small wedding and a lovely breakfast, which had been hosted by Aunt Phyllis, Wesley had whisked Mercy away to a lovely manor he owned near Oxford. She ran her hand along the delicately carved mantle in their bedroom and looked forward to exploring the rest of the house. “This is lovely, but we could have stayed in London, Wesley.”