Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

  Sophia folded her arms. “You should have had a better grip.”

  “It wasn’t my fault either. You have big, clumsy man hands.”

  Sophia sucked in an outraged gasp. “I do not. You’re the one with huge hands. Look at those big ugly things!”

  Merry pressed fingers to her temples and drew in a long breath. If they could not even move paintings without getting into some kind of disaster, what hope did they have of ever finishing clearing the house without anyone’s help?

  Arabella stepped forward and held up her hands. “You’re upsetting, Merry,” she said softly.

  Bella and Sophia glanced at her. Sophia grimaced. “Forgive me, Merry. I did not sleep well and I’m feeling grumpy.”

  “No doubt it’s because you were snoring all night. Arabella, said as much, did you not?” Bella folded her arms across her chest.

  “Bella,” warned Arabella.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I am sorry. Even though you do snore a little.”

  Sophia narrowed her gaze. “So do you. If I have big, clumsy man hands, you snore like a man who’s passed out after a great meal and vast quantities of sherry.”

  Merry held her breath while Bella’s face reddened a little. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes. Why did everything seem too hard suddenly? Why did everything feel like a battle? Even Harry. Each meeting with him, she felt like she had to raise the defenses and man the moat. Everything had become so complicated suddenly.

  Most especially her feelings toward him.

  A sudden peal of laughter escaped Bella. She drew in a breath and clamped her lips together until the giggles were suppressed. “I am sorry. Truly. And Sophia is right. I do snore like a drunken man—especially when I have had a sherry myself.”

  Sophia perfected a smug look.

  “It just all seemed a little amusing for a moment. Arguing over paintings and all the disasters we have come across. Perhaps your family curse is nothing to do with marriage,” she said to Merry. “Perhaps this house is cursed.”

  “Merry is not cursed,” Arabella declared. “In any way at all. Not when it comes to marriage, nor when it comes to this house. We just have to try a little harder, that is all. We shall get it finished and you can finally have your little escape away from the world.”

  Merry gave a soft smile. At the moment, nothing appealed to her more than the idea of being able to tuck herself away in this house away from the estate and housekeepers who interfered in her life too much, and men who wanted to send her into a tizzy every time she saw them.

  “Come on, let us get back to work.” Sophia snatched up the end of the painting once more. “If we get these hung, we can eat that lavender shortbread my cook made. That must be incentive enough.”

  “Oh yum.” Bella rubbed her stomach. “I do wish father would hire a new cook. Mrs. Hitchens is a grumpy old bat.”

  “She has been with the family for nearly twenty years, Bella,” reminded Arabella.

  Bella lifted her chin. “That does not mean she is any good as a cook. I think I could do a better job.” She motioned to Merry. “Remember when you came for afternoon tea and she burnt the cakes and gave us spoiled milk.”

  Merry grimaced. “That milk was a little rancid.”

  “You sound spoiled, Bella,” Sophia warned.

  Bella lifted her nose into the air. “And you sound like Mrs. Hitchens. The woman loathes me, I swear.”

  “Because you are spoiled and outrageous,” said Sophia. “Now are you going to help me with this painting or not.”

  Bella paused, a glint in her eyes. “Well, I do not know. If I am so spoiled, I am not sure I am the sort to be doing heavy lifting.”

  Merry wrapped an arm around Bella’s shoulders. “Whether you are spoiled or not, we love you just the way you are.”

  “You are only saying that so that I get on with the work.” Bella grinned.

  “Perhaps.” Merry chuckled. Leave it to Bella to help her forget all her frustrations. “Did it work?”

  She bent down to pick up the other corner of the painting. “I am an absolute pushover for flattery. Of course it worked!”

  Merry and Arabella snatched up a few of the smaller paintings and followed Sophia and Bella downstairs into the drawing room. Orion raced past Merry, excited by all the movement, down the corridor then back into the room. The large painting was propped up against the wall while Merry spread out the smaller ones to study them.

  “I was thinking I would have that large one on that wall.” She pointed to the wall opposite the window. “Then the smaller ones here.”

  Arabella stepped back to eye the room and nodded. “That sounds perfect.” She looked at Merry. “I confess I am a little jealous of you setting up home on your own.”

  “There is something to be said to living alone,” Sophia admitted.

  “I would rather not have to gain a horrible husband before doing it, though,” pointed out Bella.

  Sophia grimaced. “I like my freedom as a widow, and I am grateful for what I inherited from him. But I would not wish such a miserable match on anyone.”

  “Let us just be grateful he dropped dead so quickly!” Bella said. “Just think you could have been stuck with him for another couple of decades.”

  Arabella gasped. “Bella, you should not speak ill of the dead.”

  Bella’s lips twisted. “I will more than happily speak ill of that beast. He mistreated Sophia.”

  Sophia held up her hands. “It is fine. I have made my peace with it all now. But I cannot claim to be sad he passed.”

  “If I had known at the time, I’d have killed him myself,” Bella said between gritted teeth.

  None of them had been aware Sophia’s husband was mistreating her during their marriage. He made sure they rarely saw her and remained in London most of the time. It was not until after her husband’s death, did Sophia admit how awful he was to her. Two years had passed since then, and for the most part, Sophia seemed utterly at peace with it all. Merry was not convinced those sorts of scars could heal that easily, however, but she was loath to bring it up unless Sophia did.

  Merry nodded. “I think we all would have done him some harm, had we known.”

  Holding both hands up, Sophia shook her head. “What’s done is done.”

  “Now, talking of men. Your mama said she saw Easton riding with the Devine sisters.” Bella nodded toward Sophia and Arabella. “It seems the dowager countess is angling for a match with one of them.”

  Merry grimaced. She did not want to hear this. She did not want to think about Harry with other women. Curling her hands at her side, she managed to resist clapping her hands over her ears.

  “They shall be lucky to secure him,” Arabella commented. “Everyone knows what a rake he is.”

  Bella shrugged. “Your mama said he looked to be enjoying himself.”

  Merry’s heart sank further. She’d been right about him, but that did not mean she liked being correct.

  Sophia tutted. “I do not know why you listen to our mother. She is always gossiping, and it is rarely correct. Now, are we going to hang these paintings or not?”

  “Let us get that big one over and done with,” Bella suggested. “Then perhaps it shall land on no more toes.”

  “Yes,” agreed Merry. “Once that one is up, we can see what the room shall look like and then we can figure out where the rest go.”

  Bella and Sophia lifted it once more, easing it up while Merry wrangled it over the picture hooks.

  “Anyone home?”

  Merry’s heart juddered to a stop at the sound of the baritone echoing around the house.

  “Oh it’s...” Bella stopped as soon as Merry clapped a hand over her mouth. Bella made a muffled protest against her hand.

  “Do not say anything,” hissed Merry. “I do not want to see him.”

  “Why ever not?” asked Arabella.

  “I...I just do not.” Merry straightened. “I...I’m fed up with him always checking up
on me. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Orion barked, dashing off in the direction of the sound before Merry could grab him.

  “Blast.” She swung her gaze about the room then darted behind one of the long, velvet curtains that had recently been cleaned and rehung.

  Arabella peeled back one edge of the curtain. “What are you doing, Merry?”

  “Hiding. Shh.” She pressed a finger to her lip. “Tell Harry I am not here. I’ve gone into the village or something.” Merry snatched back the curtain and tucked it around herself, holding her breath when those heavy footsteps entered the room.

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to remain still. She could not face him, not after everything that had occurred between them recently—not to mention all the gossip surrounding them. It was all too much. If she saw him...well, she feared she might crumble. And where would that leave her? With a broken heart and no friends probably.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” she heard him say.

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” replied Arabella. “What brings you here?”

  “I was hoping to see Merry,” he said.

  “Oh. Um.” Arabella tripped over a response and Merry grimaced.

  “She isn’t here!” Bella cut in. “She has gone...”

  “To the village,” finished Sophia. “To get some...”

  “Bonnets!” put in Bella.

  Merry grimaced and pressed fingers between her brows.

  “Bonnets?” queried Harcourt.

  “Yes,” Arabella said, a breathless quality to her voice. “I, um, ruined mine while we were tidying, so Merry just felt so guilty she had to replace it straight away.”

  “I see.” Footsteps creaked around the perimeter of the room. Merry sucked in a breath once more and held it until they receded.

  “Is she alone?” Harry asked.

  Silence hung in the room. Merry’s heartbeat was so loud, she could swear he had to be able to hear it.

  “After the other day, she should not be going anywhere alone.” There was annoyance in his tone.

  “I am sure she shall be fine. She has only gone to the village after all,” said Bella brightly.

  “She did not even take Orion,” he mused.

  “Well, Mrs. Bryce would never let him in her shop. She detests animals of all kinds,” Sophia put in.

  Merry smiled at this. It wasn’t a lie but thank goodness Sophia had recalled that snippet of information.

  “I am glad I found you all anyway. With the exception of Merry.” Suspicion edged his voice. “My mother has decreed there shall be a ball in two days’ time. I hope you shall all attend.”

  “Will there be food and sherry?” Bella asked.

  “Naturally,” Harry replied.

  “Excellent. So long as you do not expect me to dance, I will happily attend,” Bella said.

  “Would you not even spare me a dance?” Harry asked.

  Merry curled her fist. Something strange fisted in her gut at the idea of Harry dancing with other ladies. Even Bella. Which was ridiculous. Bella would never fall for Harry’s charm, even if she thought him handsome. Of course, she would not be able to attend the ball, considering she was still in mourning so she would not even have to witness Harry taking other women in his arms.

  Even if she did, it would not matter, she reminded herself. Because she simply did not care who Harry took in his arms. The sooner he moved his attentions onto someone else, the better, was that not right?

  She missed the rest of the conversation, only realizing Harry had left when Arabella whipped the curtain open, making Merry clap hands across her chest and suck in a breath. She scanned the room and realized he had truly gone before letting herself sag a little.

  “What on earth was that about, Merry?” Arabella asked. “We seemed awfully silly, and I do not like lying.”

  “I am an excellent liar.” Bella grinned. “But you two made it all worse.”

  Sophia gave Bella a stern look. “Being good at lying is not something to be proud of. But you did no better than the rest of us.”

  Merry sunk down onto a chair, aware of the looks her friends were giving her. She should tell them. They were her friends after all. She should admit that Harry made her heart race and her body feel as though it had somehow been separated from her and she was entirely out of control when it came to Harry.

  But how could she? She had started the Spinsters Club after all. It had all been her idea. And had they not just been discussing Sophia’s awful late-husband? How would she feel if she knew Merry had been...

  Had been falling for Harry.

  There, she could not avoid the admission. She had been falling for him since he put his lips to hers. Maybe for longer. It was hard to tell now. She’d always admired him and thought him handsome and charming. Perhaps even when she’d been younger, she’d fallen for him just a little.

  And he was all too aware of that. If she even admitted as much, he would swoop in and claim his victory before leaving her heartbroken. She simply could not confess as much, not even to her closest friends.

  “We just had a little falling out,” said Merry hastily. “Just a little falling out.”

  She could tell none of them were convinced but she did not have the energy to try to convince them. How could she when she could not even convince herself that falling for Harry was the worst conceivable idea ever?

  Chapter Twenty

  “Harry!”

  Harcourt turned sharply on his heel and pushed through a mass of bodies before his mother could catch up with him. If only the bloody woman would stop forcing him to dance with every young lady of her choosing. Though there were some pretty and sweet ladies in attendance, he’d rather pick his own matches.

  He’d rather pick Merry.

  “Harry!” There was a tug on his arm and he sighed before turning to face his mother. How the woman managed to force her way through the filled ballroom to catch up with him, he did not know. “You are to dance with Miss Eloise Burton now.” She gave his arm a tug.

  “I am quite capable of choosing my own partners, Mother.”

  She lifted a brow. “Are you? Because I think if I left you to it, you would not choose anyone.” She tilted her head, making the feathers tucked into her hair bounce. “Are you unwell, Harry? Because even in your more...roguish days, you always enjoyed a dance.”

  “I still enjoy a dance. Just not with every woman in the entire country under the age of twenty-two.”

  His mother pressed her lips together. “I did not invite every woman in the country.”

  He glanced around at the crowded room. It was not the first ball to be held at Lulworth Castle and would not be the last but considering his mother had put it together in a mere two days, it was quite an event. Suffice to say, the servants had been at the point of rebellion, having to cater to so many guests at the last minute. It had taken a few choice words and promises of days off to ensure things continued to run smoothly.

  Of course, the one person he wished to be here, could not be. Not that she’d be wanting to dance. He’d probably find Merry tucked up in a room somewhere with a book or hiding in the gardens. He was beginning to wonder if she might not have the right idea, though he would not complain about being forced to take her in his arms.

  “You did an impressive job, Mother, so why do you not go and enjoy yourself rather than worrying about your grown son?”

  “You really do not understand mothers at all, do you? It is my job to worry about you.”

  Harcourt leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And I appreciate it. Why do you not find Lord Thornford a lovely partner?” He peered at his friend who was enjoying the company of an elegant fair-haired young lady. “Anyway, I have already decided on my next dance partner. He scanned the room and settled his gaze on Bella Lockhart. She glanced his way and stilled as he strolled over. “Will you dance the next set with me?”

  Creases appeared betwee
n her brows. Dressed in fine white silk, Bella was a far cry from the slightly dusty and grimy woman he’d seen a few days ago at the dower house. She gave a little curtsey. “Of course, my lord. Though I must warn you I have a tendency to tread on people’s toes.”

  Harcourt grinned. “It is a fine job I am wearing sturdy boots then.”

  Once the next set was called—an English Country Dance—he led Bella up to the dance floor and stood at the head of the line while they waited for the music to start up.

  “Are you having an enjoyable time?” he asked Bella.

  “Of course. You certainly know how to put on a ball.”

  “I cannot take all the credit I am afraid. The dowager countess did most of the work.” They began the dance, weaving around the other dancers before stopping. “I did not think you were one to enjoy balls, Bella. Much like Merry.”

  She shook her head. “Formal balls are a bore. And this is of course, a formal ball,” she hastened to add. “but so much more relaxed than London balls. At least all my friends are here.”

  “With the exception of Merry.”

  Bella narrowed her gaze at him. “I know you are good friends, my lord, but you are spending an uncommon amount of time together. You are putting her reputation at risk.”

  “Well, I have not seen her for several days if that puts your mind at ease. In fact, I did not even manage to catch up with her after her strange disappearing act at the dower house.”

  A blush bloomed on Bella’s cheeks. “There was nothing strange about it. She had to go fetch some new hanging hooks.”

  He let his lips slant. “I thought it was bonnets.”

  “Oh, yes. Bonnets too!” she said hurriedly.

  They made their way back down the line, lacing their hands together then loosening them.

  “Where is Merry tonight?” he asked once they had come to a stop.

  Bella shook her head with a small smile. “You will not be dissuaded will you, my lord?”

  “It’s my duty to look out for her while her brother is gone.”

  “A duty makes it sound tiresome. I think you enjoy looking out for her.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps I do.”