Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

  “What is going on?” Merry demanded. “Why do we need to call a meeting?” She turned to Arabella. “Arabella?”

  Arabella shook her head slightly. If it was nothing to do with her, then what was it? Merry could not fathom.

  “Tell me what is going on.” Merry pressed hands to her stomach. “You are making me nervous.”

  Sophia sat upright. “Well, if you two shall not say it, I will...” She licked her lips. “We came here, as members of the Spinster’s Club, to warn you.”

  Merry leaned forward. “Warn me?”

  “There has been some gossip,” Arabella said softly.

  “Gossip?” Merry intoned.

  Bella nodded. “It’s not surprising, Merry. Even we have noticed all the attention he gives you.” She paused and focused on the dog. “Where did he come from?”

  Merry gave Orion an affectionate rub on the head. “This is Orion. Harry brought him to me to to...to...” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say to protect her. After all, it would all sound ludicrous. “To keep me company.”

  Bella and Sophia shared a look. Sophia motioned to the dog. “This is what we are talking about.”

  Merry blinked. “A dog?”

  “No.” Sophia shook her head. “About Harcourt.”

  Damn her, why did her heart have to skip at the mere mention of his name? “What about him?”

  “The gossip has been about Harcourt...and you,” replied Arabella quietly.

  A cold wash of dread came over her. “What sort of gossip?”

  Sophia laced her hands together. “I heard it from my lady’s maid. Your time together has not gone unnoticed, nor has all the attention he has been paying you.”

  Bella nodded. “It is hard to ignore.”

  “We are friends,” protested Merry. “We have often spent time together.”

  Arabella leaned over and took Merry’s hand. “But you are alone, Merry, without the protection of your brother. And you must admit, he has been a lot more interested than usual. I know he likely feels he must take some sort of protective role as your brother’s friend, but if it is drawing the attention of servants...”

  Merry pressed fingers to her forehead and rubbed them in circles. “Then people will assume our conduct is inappropriate.”

  “You know I like Easton,” Bella spilled out. “He’s frightfully handsome and charming. But he is Harcourt Easton. He is known to be a rake. While your reputation is beyond rebuke, his is not. Any woman spending too much time with him, risks her reputation...and what concerns us more, is that she risks her heart.”

  Merry huffed. “As if I would risk my heart.” The words felt false on her tongue. “He is a friend and I am well aware of his reputation.”

  “We only say these things because we do not wish to see you sent off to Ireland or some other awful place because of a man.” Arabella squeezed her hand tight. “We love you too much.”

  Merry smiled weakly. “I love you all too.”

  “I was lucky no one knew of my attachment to Frederick. If anyone had realized, I’m certain my parents would have sent me away, and I certainly could not show my face in Society.” Arabella fidgeted, her cheeks a little red. “I spent too long waiting for him to return, and I regret every second I wasted on him, and I certainly regret ever giving my innocence to the bloody vile man.”

  “Oh, bravo.” Bella clapped her hands together. “That is the first time I have ever heard you call him what he is.”

  “Well, I think this has all made me realize what a waste of time he was.” Arabella turned to face Merry. “Harcourt seems a good man, but so did Frederick. I would so hate for you to go through the same thing.”

  Merry patted Arabella’s hand. “I have no intention of letting myself fall for him or his charms.”

  “Sometimes we cannot help it, but this is what the Spinster’s Club is here for, is it not?” Sophia said. “So we can protect each other?”

  Merry drew in a breath and nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”

  Her friends were right. Her time spent with Harry was inappropriate and so long as she was unsure whether his intentions were real, she could not give in. She would do her best to ignore him and avoid him until Daniel returned and she had no doubt once her brother was back, Harry’s attentions would cease, and he would find someone else to amuse him. He’d most likely be back to seeing her as Daniel’s little sister and nothing more. The problem would be solved, and she could return to her studies in peace and quiet.

  Perfect.

  Was it not?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You are always so busy these days.” Harcourt’s mother huffed.

  Harcourt lifted his gaze from the letters in front of him and eyed his mother. She swept into the study with her usual dramatic flair, draping herself over a chair in the corner.

  “In case you had not noticed, this estate takes some running.”

  She made a dismissive noise. “You were never that interested in the estate before. Always happy to let your men deal with it.”

  Harcourt lifted a brow. “Are you not happy I am taking an interest?”

  She paused and considered this. “I suppose. But it does rather take you away from having fun.”

  What she meant was, it prevented him from spending time with the ladies she wished him to meet. The truth was between protecting Merry as best as he could and running the estate and his business dealings, he had no time or inclination to meet any of these women his mother kept thrusting at him. At some point, he would have to confess her efforts were in vain.

  Not quite yet, though. His mother’s need for drama would only hinder any attempts when it came to Merry—Merry did not like attention.

  “I cannot win with you, Mother. You wish me to settle down and yet you complain,” he teased.

  She straightened in the chair. “I am glad you are taking an interest. Every mother expects their son to have a little...fun. But you did stretch out that fun for some time.”

  “I am sorry to have so disappointed you,” he said dryly.

  Smiling, she shook her head. “You mistake me, Harry. I am infinitely proud to call you my son. You are a good man and have never caused me any problems. There are some mothers who have drunks and gamblers for sons, and I am always grateful I am not one of those. A few dalliances here and there are well enough, and I could not expect anything less from having a handsome son, but I only hope your reputation does not hinder your marriage.”

  Too late for that. Merry’s insistence he was too much of a rake for her had already hindered things. He did not regret taking the time to discover exactly what he wanted out of life, but he did regret that it was getting in the way of what he truly desired—Merry.

  “Of course,” his mother continued, “so many women would be willing to overlook your reputation due to your wealth and rank, but I do so want a happy marriage for you, not one of resent and bitterness.”

  “It is good to know you do not wish to just thrust me into the arms of whichever willing woman comes next.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “I only want what’s best for you, like any mother. Your father and I had a happy marriage and I would wish the same for you.”

  “Well, I shall try my best.”

  She clapped her hands together and stood. “That is all I can ask. Well, that and one other thing...”

  “What do you want?” he asked slowly.

  “A ball.”

  He shook his head.

  “We have not hosted one in a long time because you are usually in London and I am in Bath, but people are expecting one now that we are returned.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, Harry,” she insisted. “It is the done thing.”

  “And I suppose you shall be inviting lots of eligible young ladies?”

  “If eligible young ladies happen to wish to attend, who am I to stop them?” She lifted her hands.

  “I am sorry to disappoint, but I do not have time to organize a ball.” Not if he w
as to keep Merry safe. He glanced at the clock. She had agreed she would not go anywhere unescorted, but he’d wager she was at the house by now. He needed to check she had not gone alone.

  “You do not need to organize it. I shall do all the work.” His mother pressed a finger to her lips. “I think Saturday would be perfect. The beautiful weather looks set to continue.”

  He coughed. “Saturday? Mother, that is two days’ away.”

  Straightening her shoulders, she eyed him. “Do you know me at all, Harry? In my time I arranged many a soiree within mere days and with fewer funds and less help than I have now.”

  Harcourt pushed aside the letters, giving her his full attention. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to work. “You really think you can arrange a ball with such short notice?”

  “Of course I bloody well can.”

  He chuckled. “If I say yes, will you let me work?”

  “I will let you work once you’ve accompanied me on a ride. I need some fresh air and so do you and poor Lord Thornford.”

  “Riding at your age, Mother? How scandalous?”

  She thrust up her nose. “I did not come here to be insulted. I came to see if my loving and loyal son would accompany his—as he so kindly pointed out—ageing mother and ensure nothing happens to her.”

  “That is emotional blackmail, Mother.”

  She grinned. “Did it work?”

  He sighed and laid down his quill. “Looks like I am going for a ride.”

  Her triumphant grin had him shaking his head.

  Apparently, his mother had requested his horse be saddled as their mounts were ready and waiting for them when they reached the stables. Griff was already saddled.

  “It seems we’re going for a ride,” he said dryly.

  “Griff, you should not let my mother bully you.”

  “She is rather tenacious.” Griff’s grin tilted.

  They set off from the estate land, heading out over the hills that the house nestled on. Once they reached the outskirts of the land, signaled by a line of trees, his mother came to a stop.

  “Are you done for the day, Mother?” Harcourt queried.

  She glanced around. “Pardon? Oh no. I just...need to take a little rest.”

  Harcourt frowned. It was not like her to need a rest. Her face brightened, and he peered in the direction she was looking. Heading toward them were three women on horseback. He shared a look with Griff and grimaced. It seemed this was no simple ride but another of his mother’s matchmaking attempts.

  “Oh look,” she said, forced surprise lighting her voice. “It is Mrs. Devine and her daughters. What a happy coincidence.”

  “Coincidence, my arse,” Harcourt muttered, and Griff chuckled.

  Pasting a smile on his face, he greeted the sisters courteously. They were a pretty couple with pleasant manners, but both were shy and clearly uncomfortable with their mother’s attempts at matchmaking.

  “Shall we continue on?” Harcourt suggested. It would be harder for them to converse if they were riding and would save them all from embarrassment at their mother’s actions.

  “Of course. Though, I think I must take it a little more slowly,” his mother said. “But do not let that slow you down. Mrs. Devine can keep me company.”

  Harcourt rolled his eyes and set the pace again. Both girls were excellent riders and far better at it than conversing. He and Griff rode with vigor, using the countryside to show off their skills. The girls laughed and relaxed as the journey continued on.

  “We had better slow down,” said Harcourt. “We have lost the mothers.” He slowed and glanced back to where the older women were taking their time to catch up with them.

  “You are an excellent rider, my lord.” Miss Charlotte smiled, her cheeks rosy from the exertion.

  “As are you, Miss Charlotte.” He looked to her sister. “And you, Miss Devine.”

  The blush in Miss Devine’s cheeks deepened. “Thank you, my lord. My sister and I like to ride as often as we can.”

  Harcourt nodded. “But not in this direction often, I would wager.”

  Miss Charlotte swung a glance at her sister and grimaced. “Our mother insisted we ride out this way today. We did not fathom the reason why.”

  “Charlotte,” hissed her younger sister. “You should not be admitting that.”

  Griff chuckled. “Well, I am not complaining about this meeting. Not when I get to see such beautiful women enjoying the fresh country air.”

  “Oh.” Miss Devine’s face turned nearly completely red.

  “Careful, Griff,” Harcourt murmured. “My mother shall have you married before dawn if you do not be cautious with your flirtations.”

  Their mothers were not far behind, so Harcourt gave the horse a flick with his reins and widened the gap. They rode until they reached the village then circled back around to head in the direction of the Devine’s house.

  “I am quite thirsty,” Harcourt’s mother declared once they reached the modest but elegant home.

  “Oh you must come inside,” Mrs. Devine said. “All of you.”

  Miss Charlotte rolled her eyes. Harcourt masked a chuckle. “I am afraid I have estate duties to attend to,” he explained.

  “But—” his mother started.

  “They are quite urgent I am afraid. And I could do with a hand from Griff.”

  “But—” protested Griff.

  “Thank you for the excellent ride, ladies. Mother, you take your time. There is no need to rush home and do send word if you need a carriage.”

  “I am not ancient,” he heard her grumble as he and Griff lead their horses away from the house.

  Harcourt shook his head. “If that is not enough to chase you back to London, I do not know what is.”

  Griff shrugged. “They were a little on the quiet side but charming. Not to mention excellent riders. I like a woman who can handle a horse.”

  “As excellent a woman as my mother is, I cannot help wish she’d return to Bath.”

  “And leave you to courting Miss Merry?” Griff shot a knowing look his way.

  Harcourt said nothing.

  “I know it is more than a passing fancy, Easton. I’m no fool.”

  They made their way back toward the estate at an easy pace. Harcourt had every intention of seeing Merry before the day ended but managed to resist the urge to race home to change.

  “She is the reason for the change in you, is she not?” Griff pressed. “Why you no longer want to spend time in London and why you have not taken a lover in an eternity?”

  “It has not been an eternity,” he muttered.

  “Have you asked her to marry you?”

  “Not yet.”

  Griff peered at him. “Why the devil not?”

  Harcourt stared straight ahead, ignoring his friend’s inquisitive stare. “Let’s just say Merry is not convinced that I am the marrying type.”

  Griff laughed. “She has turned you down?”

  “Not as such.” He sighed. “But she is refusing to let herself admit she wants me.”

  “It sounds like she is going to take some persuading.”

  Harcourt nodded and tightened his grip on the reins. “Indeed. A fine job I do not give up easily.”

  “First you have to figure out who is trying to hurt her,” Griff pointed out. “Can hardly seduce her while trying to protect her.”

  Harcourt gave his friend a look and Griff laughed. “You devil, you have been trying to do both.”

  “It is more than seduction with Merry,” Harcourt admitted. “I love the woman, Griff.”

  Griff shook his head slowly. “Well, I do not know her that well yet, but she seems to be quite the woman. I cannot say I see why you would wish to settle already but if there’s any woman that can keep you on your toes, it will be her.”

  “I have a private investigator I can call on for help. He was unable to discover anything previously, but things have developed since then.”

  “So
with any luck, you shall find out who is trying to harm her. But what will you do about the marriage thing?” Griff asked.

  Harcourt gave the reins a flick and sent the horse into a gallop. “You know me, Griff,” he said. “I have never been one to give up easily.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “No, you need to lift it at that corner,” Sophia ordered, bending down to demonstrate lifting the corner of the huge painting.

  “I think I know perfectly well how to lift a painting,” Bella grumbled.

  Merry grimaced. Today was meant to have been nice and easy. All they need to do was hang a few paintings. But Bella and Sophia were determined to argue over everything they did today.

  Orion darted into the room, racing around Sophia then brushing past Merry before heading into one of the other rooms. She shook her head. Orion did not want them to make much progress either apparently.

  “Why do we not take a quick break?” Merry suggested.

  Arabella returned to the bedroom. “I’ve hung that smaller one. Do you want to take a look?”

  “In a moment. Let’s move this big one,” said Sophia.

  “I was talking to Merry actually,” said Arabella softly.

  “Let’s move this one first so that Sophia and Bella can stop arguing,” suggested Merry.

  Sophia scowled. “We are not arguing.”

  “You were,” said Bella.

  “It was you who was doing all the shouting,” shot back Sophia.

  Shaking her head, Merry stepped forward. “Why don’t Arabella and I do it instead? You two can take those two smaller ones downstairs.” She motioned to two she had selected to hang in the hallway.

  “We can manage.” Bella lifted her corner of the painting.

  “Yes, we’re not incapable, Merry.” Sophia bent down to snatch up her end, but she lifted it too quickly and the painting slid from Bella’s grasp, the corner crashing down on Bella’s toes.

  Bella let out a pained yelp and hopped back, grabbing her injured foot.

  Arabella hastened forward. “Oh no, are you hurt?”

  “I’ve probably broken my toe thanks to Sophia.” Bella sent a daggered look Sophia’s way.