“You cannot possibly. You are a rake. It is well known. You never remain with one woman for long.” A slightly hysterical laugh escaped her. “You must be fooling yourself.”
“Merry—” He took her hand again.
Merry whipped her head toward the sound of fast footsteps, shifting quickly to create a space between her and Harry. Bella appeared in the doorway, her face flushed. “Merry, quick, you must come now.”
Merry glanced between Harry and Bella. She shouldn’t have wanted to hear whatever he was going to say, but she did. More fool her. How many other women had been swayed by Harry’s honeyed words and teasing?
“Merry!” Bella prompted. “Come.”
Merry stood. “What’s happened?”
“Oh, it’s too hard to explain. But Arabella needs you. She needs all of us. But you especially.”
“Why do I not leave you to it?” Harry suggested. “I shall see you tomorrow, Merry.” He set down the lemonade and stood.
Merry opened her mouth to protest but his smile made any words die on her lips. Why did he have to make her stomach tumble and tumble with the merest smile? “See you tomorrow,” she murmured instead as he dipped his head to them both and left the room.
Pressing a hand to her stomach, Bella drew in a breath. “That man...the one who broke Arabella’s heart...”
Merry’s eyes widened. “Do not tell me he is returned?”
Bella shook her head vigorously. “No, worse in a way. His brother is coming home.”
Merry could not recall Mr. Russel’s brother. Both had lived in Lulworth until he had ventured off to America, leaving Arabella behind with promises to return to her. That had been years ago, and she’d been a mere sixteen. None of them had known the men that well and none of them wished to. The brother had vanished off their social scene after his brother left.
“How is that worse?” Merry asked.
“Well, if Russel returned, there might be a chance he would still marry her...at least in Arabella’s mind the returning of the brother, though, that shall just be salt in the wounds.”
Merry pressed two fingers to either side of her head. “Yes, either way, it will not be pleasant for her.”
Bella held out a hand for Merry. “Come on, Merry. We need to go and comfort her.”
Merry took Bella’s hand and let her lead her outside before hooking her arm through hers.
“I rarely seem to see you without Easton these days,” Bella mused.
“Nonsense.” The word came out more defensive than she intended.
Bella shrugged. “It is true. I know you are friends, but I am certain you two never spent quite so much time together before. He has taken quite an interest in the house.”
“Well, as my brother’s closest friend, he feels some sort of obligation to me.” Merry kept her gaze pointedly forward as they made their way along the path from the house. “He probably thinks I shall do myself some damage if I do it alone.”
A snicker escaped Bella. “Given the damage we created the other day, he might be right. But you two did seem cozy. Are you certain, he does not—”
“He is like a brother to me really,” Merry declared before Bella could go any further.
“A handsome brother,” Bella put in. “A handsome, tall, rich, charming brother.”
“Is he?” Merry said lightly. “I never really noticed.”
Chapter Nine
Harcourt took the early ejection from the house as an opportunity to look around the perimeter of Merry’s soon-to-be house. He could not get that man’s suspicious behavior from his mind. Perhaps his time in busy London had made him paranoid—after all rarely anything of interest happened in Lulworth. It was too small, and everyone knew everyone. It would not hurt to make sure things were well, however.
He paced around the back of the building and paused at some marks in the ground. On a wetter day, someone had been standing by the window and footprints were now cast into the dried mud. The overgrown grass and foliage showed signs of being pushed down.
Harcourt strode over to the window that the path led to and frowned at the window frame. There were patches of paint missing on the bottom of the frame, as though someone had been using a tool to pry it open. He rubbed a hand across his face. It was obvious there were no riches in the house—even with the clutter that was in there, little of it had value. No thief in their right mind would want to rob such a rundown house, and it had stood empty for years. Why would someone decide to steal from it now? His gut itched, much like before he was about to lose a card game. Something was not right.
He’d always intended to come back the next day. And the next after that. And many more. If he had not been interrupted by Bella, he’d have laid things out straight for Merry. He was not here to seduce...though he did wish to sway her a little. He was here because he loved her. But there were other things to worry about now too. He needed to keep a close eye on her if there was some danger to her person. How would he live with himself if something happened to her? He’d have to remain even closer than he’d originally intended.
By the time he’d finished his lap of the house, Merry and Bella were long gone. He began the journey home toward Lulworth Castle. The name of his ancestral seat was deceptive—it had not been a castle for over one hundred years when the original building had been knocked down to make way for its current incarnation. He made good time, walking from the Whitely estate, along the road and onto his estate. The large park surrounding the castle was always filled with deer and he could see them scattered over the hills that reached past Lulworth Cove and beyond.
The two towers of the building dominated the landscape, capping off a squared mock castle. Harcourt picked up his pace once he neared the building, entering via the servant’s entrance.
“Is Lord Thornford still abed?” he asked one of the maids.
“Yes, my lord. I think May just took him a morning meal.”
Harcourt nodded with satisfaction. As much as he liked his friend’s company, it was easier to deal with Merry alone.
Making his way upstairs, he headed to the study. Lined with books on every wall, the room reminded him of Merry. When she had been younger and visited with her brother, she’d enjoyed the study almost as much as the library. She claimed its smaller proportions made a perfect reading space. He could almost picture her curled up on the chair in the corner whilst he dealt with estate business at his desk.
But it was no estate business that he needed to be concerned with now. He sat and dabbed the quill into ink as he drew out a fresh sheet of paper. No, his primary concern was Merry. Or to be more exact, what someone wanted with Merry. With her father recently dead, it seemed no coincidence that someone was spying on her.
There could be debts attached to the estate, he supposed. Perhaps her father had done business with some nefarious people. Whatever it was, he would not let Merry get tangled up in it. He penned a quick letter to his lawyer in London, requesting information on Merry’s father and his dealings, as well as expressing the need for some investigating. If someone out there was looking to harm or threaten Merry in some way, he wanted to know about it.
As he sealed the letter, the door to the study opened. He swung a glance at it, expecting it to be the butler or his valet, but a bonneted head popped around the doorway.
“There you are!” His mother eased open the door fully and stepped in. She still wore travelling clothes but looked as glamorous as ever. “Goodness, you do look a mess.”
Harcourt arched a brow. “It’s nice to see you too, Mother. I thought you were still in Bath. I had no notice of your return.”
She waved a hand and came to perch on the edge of the desk. With chestnut hair only marginally streaked with gray and a persistent smile, it was hard to remember his mother was ageing. She prided herself on being the center of all things social and could be counted on to liven up even the dullest of balls.
He suspected her attitude to socializing had rubbed off on him years ago an
d could be to blame for decadent years in London. Or he was simply making an excuse for himself. But he felt no shame over that time. That had been one segment of his life—the period where he figured out what he wanted—and this next one was another. With any luck, it would see him married and settled—with one woman specifically.
“I probably beat my letter home. The roads were so dry that we made perfect timing. So rare for this country.”
“If I’d have known, I would have made sure I was home.”
She leaned forward and adjusted his cravat then scowled. “What have you been doing? There’s dust in your hair. Goodness, actually, there’s dust everywhere.”
“I’ve been helping a friend,” he said simply.
“By getting dusty? My dear, I am certain you forget your position at times. One does not need to get dirty to help one’s friends.”
“A little dust never killed anyone, Mother.”
She slid off the desk and smoothed down her skirt. “I am certain that is not true. I’m willing to bet that dust has killed at least one person.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Now, go and get cleaned and changed. I am hosting an ‘at home’ this afternoon.”
He eyed her. “You cannot have been home long.”
“And I am itching to see everyone.”
“How will they even know you’ve returned?”
“Oh, they shall know.” His mother’s smile turned mischievous. “I ensured that I took the carriage directly through the village. Everyone saw my return. All my friends shall know I am home before long. Besides, we have a guest do we not? Lord Langley. I have not seen him in some time.”
“You always did like to make an entrance.” Harcourt stood, letter in hand, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Though Lord Thornford is likely still abed. He cannot get used to country hours.”
“Well, he had better. He was devilishly handsome if I recall. I am certain many shall want to invite him to their homes.”
Harcourt masked a smile. If his mother started meddling in Griff’s love life, he would definitely want to return to London sooner rather than later. “It is good to have you home.”
“Yes, yes.” She brushed dust from his shoulders. “Now go and change. There shall be many eligible ladies visiting, no doubt.”
He frowned. “I’ve changed my mind. You should go back to Bath.”
She laughed. “Do not be like that. You are past thirty, my dear.”
“Only just,” he grumbled.
“It is high time you married, and would it not be nice to marry a local girl? There are many lovely ones who are just ripe for marriage.”
Harcourt considered this. He could only think of one, and Merry was probably not what his mother considered ‘ripe for marriage’, particularly considering Merry seemed to be committing herself to some sort of spinster lifestyle by moving into the dower house. There were a few young ladies in the village who were of good breeding and had all the manners and refinements that his mother would like but none of them had ever interested him. He preferred his women with a little more courage.
“I have too much to do, I’m afraid, Mother. You shall have to entertain these ripe girls alone.”
“Oh, you are wicked. Do you not see that I am ageing? I need grandchildren, Harry, and quickly. Not to mention, it’s your bloody duty.”
He chuckled at his mother’s foul language. As much as she was the epitome of a grand lady in Society, there was no covering her bold personality at home.
“I shall do my duty, I promise.” And hopefully sooner than his mother expected. “But I will not attend any ‘at homes’.”
She gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, you cannot say I do not try.”
“That I cannot. Enjoy your tea and cakes.”
He chuckled to himself when his mother swept out of the room. She’d been in Bath for several months and although he’d rather hoped she’d stay there while he dealt with the...Merry situation...he did not dislike having her home.
Though, he had no plans to tell her about Merry yet. She would approve, even if she did not think Merry was exactly countess material. Of course, his mother had been wanting him married for years, ever since the early death of his father really. He suspected her preoccupation with his marriage was not just her doing her motherly duty. It gave her something to focus on instead of grieving for his father. He’d be quite glad when he no longer had to deal with his mother’s rather unsubtle matchmaking skills.
Perhaps, if he was clever, he could turn her attention to Griff. His friend might not thank him, but it would leave him time to worry about the Merry situation alone. He grinned to himself. Poor Griff had little idea what he had let himself in for when he’d decided to accompany him here.
Chapter Ten
A brisk wind fluttered the ribbons of Merry’s bonnet. It blew in off the sea, bringing with it the fresh scent of salt. Bella looped her arm through Merry’s as they made their way along the beach, not far from where the sea was slowly retreating in waves tipped with white.
Bella glanced back at Arabella who walked alongside Sophia and leaned in. “She is still terribly melancholy.”
Merry nodded. Arabella had never been the most gregarious of them, but she was never miserable either. The recent news had affected her badly. Somehow, they would have to cheer her up.
The four of them strode up toward the end of the cove, where huge rocks jutted up and marked the end of the crescent-shaped beach and offered shelter from the breeze. Merry settled on the sand and peered out at the ocean. Guilt jabbed at her. While she had been contemplating Harry’s handsomeness and getting herself tangled into an odd twist of emotions, Arabella had been hurting from the news. She would have to rectify that somehow, and certainly avoid any more thinking of Harry’s strong arms or how he looked with his cravat undone.
A laugh threatened to bubble from her and she clamped down on it. To think he had said he loved her. How preposterous. He was either mad or teasing her. Whatever game he was playing, she was not falling for it.
Merry eyed Arabella, who had been wearing this odd strained smile for days. Already pale, her skin had taken on an ashen cast and it was clear she had not been sleeping.
“Stop looking at me like that, Merry.” Arabella shook her head. “I know what you are thinking.”
“I’m concerned for you, we all are,” Merry said.
Bella nodded. “You have not been the same since you heard that snake’s brother is returning to Lulworth.”
Arabella’s throat worked. “It is hardly his fault that his brother is a cad.”
Sophia snorted. “He’s more than a cad. He took advantage of you. He promised you marriage, knowing full well he would never return from America, he—”
A shiver visibly wracked Arabella. Merry put a hand to Sophia’s arm. Out of all of the injuries her friends had suffered at the hands of men, Arabella’s was the worst in many ways. The man who had stolen her innocence had sworn he would return for her once he had made his fortune, but he never did. No word ever came and Arabella was left waiting for many years.
And given her young age of sixteen, it had been a rude awakening to the folly and arrogance of men. Arabella was only lucky that no one had discovered her ruination, or she might have been sent off to Ireland or some godforsaken place like Miss Lucy Gable had.
“He is coming to look after his sick mother,” Arabella said softly. “I cannot begrudge him that.”
Bella frowned. “I do not remember the brother, do you, Merry?”
Shaking her head, Merry sifted grains of sand through her fingers. “He is older than us and he studied away for most of the time I believe.”
Sophia nodded. “I believe so. And Mrs. Bryce said he has been in Scotland for some time and fears he will be all rough manners now.”
“Well, wherever he has been, I will treat him courteously. He has done me no wrong.” Arabella lifted her chin but Merry could not miss the slight quiver of her lips.
The brother might
be completely innocent and for all they knew, could be a good man, but the family connection was still a sore reminder of what Arabella had given up to a man who had lied to her and used her in the most horrible way.
“I think we should all ignore him,” determined Sophia. “After all, he shall be caring for his mother. I doubt he will have time to socialize with the people of Lulworth. We can pass him by quite easily should we see him.”
“And if we do, we shall all be there for you, Arabella.” Merry reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.
Arabella smiled. “I know you will. How I would have survived these years without you all, I do not know.”
Bella waved a hand. “Oh stop, you shall make me cry.”
“You never cry,” declared Sophia.
Bella shrugged. “Maybe this will be a first.”
Merry studied her friend. “It’s true. I only just realized it. I have never seen you cry!”
“Well, you are not much of a crier either, Merry,” Bella pointed out.
Merry shook her head. “You are worse I am certain.”
“I think I am physically incapable. I must have no tears in me.” Bella chuckled. “It’s all that growing up with too many men. It’s made me hard and unlovable.”
“Nonsense. We love you. Well, most of the time.” Sophia grinned.
Bella glanced around. “Come on, there is no one here. Let us dip our feet in the sea.”
“It will be freezing,” warned Arabella.
“I’m not scared of a little cold.” Bella stood and slipped off her shoes, hanging them from two fingers. “Who is coming with me?”
Merry sighed and stood with a smile. “I suppose we have little choice.”
The rest of her friends followed suit and they traipsed across the shingled sand until they reached the sea. Merry dipped a toe in and sucked in a breath. Despite it being the height of summer, the water was freezing, but that was always the way here. No matter how warm the days were, the water never warmed, and only the bravest of people swam in it.
Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club Book 1) Page 7