by Heather Boyd
Mercy curled her arm around his and tugged him away. “I should have warned you. The grooms have made a game of getting him out of the carriage. Some days it takes three jumps before he’s satisfied. Allen will keep an eye on him until he tires of the sport.”
So she was acquainted with Allen, and trusted him with Edwin. Perhaps the news they were related wouldn’t come as too big a shock. He glanced back one last time as Jacob and David laughed with Edwin. They seemed happy in his company, and he with them.
Leopold scanned their surroundings and found the picnic spot set up under the shade of a large oak. Keeping one eye on the jumping boy and one on the uneven ground, Leopold escorted Mercy across the field to a low chair.
“I think that chair’s for you, actually,” she said, and then laughed as she settled to the picnic blanket in a puff of long skirts. She dug into the hamper. “If you wish to join Edwin in his games I am content enough here.”
Leopold dropped his correspondence onto the corner of the blanket and turned to watch the boy. Edwin had recruited all the servants into a game of tag, but the servants were letting him win by a wide margin and the laughter was enthusiastic. He was happy. “He has enough people dancing attendance on him for the moment. I’ll step in should the servants become fatigued.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he wondered what the hell he could do for the boy that a thousand servants couldn’t. Edwin didn’t need him. Leopold moved the chair out of the way then settled on the ground, discomforted by his realization. Where was his mind these days?
Mercy set a large jug before him on the blanket along with three glasses. “He will tire first, or become hungry and return here.” She sat back on her heels and sighed. “I love this spot.”
“The aspect is very pretty, Your Grace.”
When Mercy turned to face him and captured his gaze, he couldn’t look away. She licked her lips and the desire to lean across the cold fare to share a kiss gripped him. He wrenched his gaze from her and watched the boy’s antics instead.
Mercy shifted restlessly and then surprised him by moving to sit closer against his side. “Edwin loves it here, too.”
“I can see that.”
She sighed and leaned against his shoulder briefly. Leopold missed the contact as soon as she was gone. “It’s not fair to him, I think. Not having other children his age to play with. Allen’s boys do their best, but he needs other children about him that are closer in age. Jacob and David always do what he says. He’ll never learn good manners if he can boss everyone around and get away with it.”
No, he wouldn’t learn good manners that way at all. But, as a duke, such behavior would be considered normal. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Lady Venables, if I may. She is a widow, yes and childless?”
Mercy resettled against him. “Yes. She had a boy once. But he passed away from a terrible illness, the same one that took her husband a few years ago. We both lost our husbands.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been a terrible time for both of you.” Leopold glanced at Mercy. “I noticed that Lady Venables has not come to call on you of late. Have you heard from her? Is she well?”
To his shock, Mercy set her head on his shoulder. “I haven’t heard a word.” She sighed. “I should have mentioned that we had a disagreement on her last visit. But I’m still somewhat in shock about it all and the things she said to me.”
“Oh.”
“It seems my sister has taken a dislike to your presence at Romsey. She feels you could be a threat to my son.”
Leopold took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not a threat to him. I would not hurt one hair on that boy’s head.” He climbed to his feet and began to pace. He did not want to come between the sisters. “I’ll leave at dawn tomorrow.”
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Mercy commanded. “Sit down before I injure my neck scowling up at you. I need family here with Edwin. Now, more than ever.”
Why now? Was it just because he’d returned?
Puzzled, Leopold sat and Mercy resumed her relaxed pose against his side. “The truth is I’ve let my sister’s grief go on for too long. She sees scandal in almost everything I do, and long before your arrival, I might add. I let her odd behavior pass because she’d lost her child and husband, but I will not stand for it any longer. She even accused me of other scandalous behavior. She went too far.”
Leopold glanced at Mercy’s sad face and realized there was more to the conversation than she’d let on. Although it wasn’t his place to question her, he wanted to know what troubled her so badly. Perhaps he could help smooth things over with Lady Venables and reassure her he had no designs on the title. He twitched his shoulder under her head. “What else did she say?”
When she closed her eyes, his heart skipped a beat. “The truth. She saw how badly I am enamored with you, and chided me for behaving with such carelessness.”
Mouth agape, stunned beyond words, Leopold struggled to decide how to respond. A certain way to smooth things over between them was for him to leave.
As he opened his mouth to offer to depart again, Mercy’s finger sealed his lips. “Don’t you dare mention leaving again. We still need to find where the duke sent Oliver, Rosemary, and Tobias yet.”
“You remembered their names.”
Mercy lifted her head from his shoulder. “Of course, I do. They should be with you, and here with us. They’re part of our family, too. I want to meet them.”
Just then, Edwin headed for their tree at a run. Mercy used his shoulder as support to climb to her feet then skimmed her fingertips across the back of his neck. Shivers danced down his spine from the brief contact, but then she moved away to scoop her son up in a possessive hug before leading him back to the picnic blanket to begin their feast.
As Leopold watched and then joined in the conversation about his favorite food, he realized that he was content for the first time in years. Despite the friction with Lady Venables, perhaps he could belong at Romsey one day.
“I have cousins,” Edwin piped up in a sudden change of conversation.
“That you do, my darling. And they are coming soon, I promise.” Mercy ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled. “Edwin has Willow, Maisie, and Poppy—his uncle, Lord Grayling’s children are coming to visit with us this winter. And he has another aunt, Lady Cameron, but Patience wasn’t so lucky in her marriage to have had children.”
Leopold sorted through the information. “You never mentioned spouses.”
Mercy’s hands fluttered. “For all our wealth and position in society we are a family of noble widows. Not one of us has retained their spouse or remarried.”
“Not even Lord Grayling? I would have thought he’d marry again for the title’s sake. He’ll want a son to inherit.”
Mercy’s face scrunched up, but she didn’t comment. She watched her son finish his beef pie and then waved him back to his games. When he was out of earshot, a rueful smile twisted her lips. “Constantine has no time for women, except those temporarily engaged to warm his bed. But I feel for those dear sweet little girls and try to persuade him to visit more often. Unfortunately, Constantine will not stay long, and he won’t consent to the girls residing here with us. I wish he would. Edwin loves them so.”
“Is his estate close?”
“Stanton Harold Hall, our family estate, is in Wiltshire. It’s a drear place and I cannot believe he wishes the girls to grow up there. He hated the place when we were young.”
Leopold smiled and drained his glass to hide his emotions. He had never belonged at Romsey before, but the sensation was slowly creeping up on him. “Opinions change as you age. How old are the girls?”
“Five, four, and two. So young to be motherless and raised by servants.”
“It is the custom.”
“Not in my family, it isn’t,” Mercy snapped. She took a deep breath and then patted his knee. “Forgive me. My brother’s attitude vexes me enormously. But he will be here soon and I will ende
avor to extend his stay beyond the meager two weeks he’s agreed upon. I am hoping he will stay longer because you are here to provide much needed male company. My sister, Patience, will be with us as well but we ladies tend to babble too much for Constantine’s comfort. You’ll like Patience. She has a direct way about her.”
Leopold hooked his arms around his knee and stared off into the distance. Hearing Mercy speak of her family gave him pain. Not pain that she was troubled by the push and pull of family relationships. His pain was that he was not similarly affected. Would his siblings be as he remembered?
Tobias had been a trusting lad, and Rosemary a veritable termagant. He and Oliver had been the closest of friends, but they had fought from time to time over the littlest of things. Usually over Oliver’s obsession with ridiculous calculations. He’d give anything to hear them now, however.
Hoping to banish his anxiety, Leopold reached for his correspondence. The foreign world of gay parties and pompous announcements would calm him.
A tattered letter caught his eye, standing out for its inferior stationary and careless penmanship against the expensive correspondence. Leopold opened it and read.
My Dear Romsey,
You cannot imagine how I long for you. To hold you between my hands and feel your breath quiver as you look into my eyes. Not long now till we meet again. Wait for me.
Ever yours,
A lover’s note? Leopold quickly folded the paper and thrust it toward Mercy. “My apologies. I did not realize the nature of the missive.” As the paper slipped from his fingers, Leopold bounced to his feet and strode away.
How complete an idiot was he?
Mercy must have taken a string of lovers since her husband’s death. The thought curled around his insides until he thought he might strike out if anyone approached him. To protect the innocent, he kept well clear of Edwin and the servants. But they all stopped their games and followed him with their eyes as he moved away. The thought of Mercy welcoming other men to her bed clouded his vision in a red haze. He did not care where his steps took him. He forced himself to walk on, yet when Mercy hailed him, he stopped and let her catch up.
She rushed to his side, hands curling over his forearm and tugging insistently. “What am I to do?”
Leopold shook off her grip as the bitter stink of jealousy whipped him. “I imagine you’ll be welcoming the chap with open arms, Your Grace.”
Mercy hugged her chest. “Why in heavens name would I do that? I don’t know this madman.”
Leopold watched her closely. Her pale face and clutching fingers all spoke to him of great anxiety. Yet the wording of the letter hinted at great intimacy between her and the writer. He didn’t know whether to believe her. “Your beau seems anxious to return to you.”
She bit her lip, a guilty gesture that sickened him. He turned away and watched where the boy played, innocent of his mother’s capricious nature.
However, Mercy wouldn’t be ignored for long. She marched around him until they stood face-to-face. Her clenched fists landed on her hips. “He’s not my beau, you obstinate man—he threatens to harm me and my son.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mercy stared as the affable man she was familiar with transformed before her eyes. His posture stiffened, his gaze hardening to one of fury as it darted about the clearing in search of a hidden foe. In the blink of an eye he had became someone that expected danger to leap upon them. A man who would give as good as he got when faced with a threat.
His fingers closed over her arm and drew her against him. In the next instant, he drew a weapon, a small pistol, from his coat pocket and held it at his side, muzzle pointing down at their feet. Leopold might have shown signs of jealousy a moment before when he’d thought a beau was writing to her, but those emotions had vanished as if they had never been.
If not for the danger they faced, Mercy might have been pleased that he liked her well enough to feel threatened by the madman writing to her. She might have even gently teased him with the idea that she had become dear to him. But the time for forgetting her troubles was over. The fears she had kept to herself were out in the open now.
That he believed her immediately was a comfort. That he would shoot first and ask questions later troubled her a great deal.
His grip tightened and then he released her. “The picnic is over, Mercy. We’ll collect Edwin and return to the abbey now.”
Hearing the stern ‘no arguments’ tone in his voice, Mercy picked up her skirts and turned toward where Edwin played. However, she hadn’t taken more than two steps in his direction before Leopold cautioned her. “Do not rush about and frighten the boy. We do not want to draw unnecessary attention to our departure. Behave naturally.”
Behave naturally? How exactly was that possible when his words and manner had sent her fear spinning out of control. They were exposed here and she had not realized that very important fact when she had decided on the location. She had put Edwin in danger unnecessarily in order to partake of a romantic picnic with Leopold, blinded by her infatuation with the man. She must have lost her mind the minute she gazed upon his dimpled cheeks in the drawing room.
By the time Mercy had convinced Edwin that the day was too warm for a picnic, her nerves were in tatters. Leopold issued orders to the servants as she settled Edwin beside her in the carriage, fussing with his clothing because she had to do something with her hands or she’d scream.
When Leopold joined them inside, he dropped the blinds completely over the windows. “We need to change positions now,” he said quietly as the carriage lurched forward.
It was a little awkward to do while the carriage was in motion, but they swapped sides so she and Edwin sat in the rear facing seats. She met Leopold’s gaze across the dim compartment and a shiver of fear raced up her spine. Leopold’s firearm remained out of Edwin’s sight and for that Mercy was extremely grateful. But he offered her no reassurance. His smiles were all gone. He appeared furious, both with the situation, and with her for involving him in her problems.
The short drive back to the abbey was conducted in tense silence. Leopold did not speak. Even Edwin seemed to realize that all was not right with his world. His gaze darted between them and then he set his hand in Mercy’s and gripped her tightly.
Leopold shifted the blind to peer out. “Almost there. I will step out first. Hold the boy and do not let him escape you until I give you leave. Understood?”
Mercy blinked. After years as a duchess, she was quite unused to being ordered about. However, given the circumstances, she would not make a fuss. She needed someone who knew what to do in this situation. She was completely out of her depth. Mercy draped her arm about her son’s shoulders and held him against her side.
The carriage rolled to a stop and Wilcox hurried to open the door. Mercy sucked in a deep, calming breath as Leopold stepped out first, hand hidden beneath his coat to conceal the pistol. He stood in the doorway a long moment then turned and held out his hand for Edwin. “No jumping this time, Your Grace. Your mother has many things to do today.”
Although his words were spoken calmly—for Edwin’s benefit—his graze flittered restlessly about the surrounding gardens. He held onto Edwin’s arm until Mercy joined them and then released her son to her care.
Mercy stumbled up the stairs as pinpricks of discomfort raced along her limbs. She struggled not to clutch her son to her and run for the safety of the main door. Leopold followed along, slightly behind them, until they passed over the threshold of Romsey Abbey.
When the front door closed, Leopold curled his hand around her upper arm in a tight grip. “To the study. Bring the boy.”
Mercy stumbled down the hall pulling Edwin with her as fast as his legs would carry him. Once ensconced in the chamber, Leopold checked the locks on the windows, drew the drapes, and even checked under his desk before he was satisfied that they were alone. “Take a seat.”
Mercy’s knees thanked her for sitting down. Her legs had become jelly in the face of
Leopold’s tension. He moved about the chamber, following Edwin as he clambered up on the desk chair and peeked into a drawer. Leopold moved his papers aside, placed a blank sheet of paper on the surface, and left Edwin to draw.
“Now,” Leopold began as he approached. “I think you had better explain to me your understanding of that note.”
Judging by his harsh, uncompromising expression no evasions would be forgiven. “We’ve been receiving letters, infrequently, from a man I’ve come to fear. He speaks as if we are well acquainted, but I cannot imagine whom he might be. I cannot tell where the letters come from, and he never signs them with a name.”
Mercy clutched her hands tightly together as Leopold sat on the cushion beside her.
“He speaks as if you are intimate acquaintances, Mercy. How long has this been going on?”
Mercy rubbed her hands along her thighs, startled by how long she’d lived under this cloud. “It’s been a year since I read the first, but I have found older ones hidden in this room. My husband and father-in-law must have known about them, I think. But since my husband’s death, the letters have become more frequent. The last was just two nights ago. The night before you agreed to move into the abbey.”
Leopold’s lips twisted as if he had tasted bitter fruit. “You invited me to live in the abbey only because of the threats against you and the boy, didn’t you?”
Mercy caught his hand. “No. That is simply not true.” She had invited him here because she had wanted to get to know him far better than she did. If he had stayed at the Vulture they would never have made love last night. Even without the threats hanging over her life, she would have wanted him here.
He worked his hand free; his expression, when he turned his head, was bleak. Did he not believe her?
“I’ll need to see the other letters if you still have them, Your Grace. Are they in this room?”