A Match for Mother

by Mona Gedney, Kathryn Kirkwood, Regina Scott

  Reginald’s expression indicated that he was having some difficulty following all of this, but he pushed back his chair and stood up, saying in a decisive voice, “We have to find her, Bet. She must be using the money from that diamond necklace for some sort of scrape. Heaven only knows what it is, but we’ve got to find her and help her.”

  They agreed that he would begin the search and Elizabeth would remain at home, hoping that they would receive a message. Elizabeth went upstairs to waken Lucinda and tell her about it and to see how Colonel Anderson was faring, and she passed Jack Grant on the way down.

  “Mama’s gone, Jack, and I am just on my way to check on the colonel.”

  “Gone?” he said, stopping abruptly. “Gone where?”

  “That’s just it,” she explained. “She didn’t tell us, so we really have no idea at all. She could be anywhere. And we know that she needed money for something.”

  “How do you know that?” he asked curiously.

  Elizabeth explained about the necklace, and Jack began to look grim. He went back up to his bedchamber for a moment and emerged carrying a satchel.

  “Are you leaving, Jack?” she asked. “Do you have an idea where she may be?”

  He nodded. “There’s one place I can think of. If she’s there, I’ll have her back in the blink of an eye.”

  And so the two men set out on their separate journeys, each of them looking for Mercy Rochester. The first stage of Reginald’s journey took him to the jeweler on Oxford Street, the first stage of Jack’s took him to Liverpool.

  The little jeweler nodded when Reginald came in. “Your mother is a lovely lady,” he said. “You were certainly fortunate to be born to such a woman, for her loveliness goes beyond her beauty.”

  Eager to hurry him a little and uncover some more helpful information, Reginald nodded. “It does indeed,” he agreed. “Did she, by any chance, give you an indication of what she was planning to use the money from the necklace for?”

  The jeweler shook his head. “I have no idea,” he responded. “All that she ever said was that all of her money shouldn’t be tied up in stocks and jewelry. She wanted some of it free so that she could spend it.”

  Reginald stared at the jeweler. No doubt his mother had another wager. What on earth had she found to bet on now? Hopefully it was nothing dangerous—and he would find her before any more harm could befall them. Unable to think of any other tactic, he began a round of the clubs, inspecting all of the betting books and trying to imagine which wagers would hold the greatest appeal for his mother. Inquiries among his friends and acquaintances yielded no news of his mother, however, and the end of that day found him back at her home, hoping against hope that she might have returned or at least sent a message.

  To his sorrow, though, there had been no news. Depressed, he sank down beside Elizabeth, who had sent one of the footmen to make discreet inquiries of all of their mother’s friends. Again, however, the search had yielded no results.

  “Very well, Elizabeth, there is no need to say it, I will say it for you. ‘Reggie, you are an insensitive brute. If you had behaved in a more gentlemanly fashion, she would still be here.’ ”

  Elizabeth, busy with her own thoughts, did not respond at first. Only after her brother’s repeated efforts was she able to listen to and understand what he was saying.

  “Of course you shouldn’t have treated Mama as you did,” she agreed at last, “but that isn’t what made her decide to leave, Reggie. I’ve already told you that she was unhappy. That’s why she is gone.”

  He nodded. “Surely she knows that she wouldn’t have to marry the colonel if she really doesn’t wish to do so,” he said reluctantly.

  “How would she know that? You two have certainly made it clear to Mercy that you want her to do just that,” observed Lucinda, who was standing in the entrance to the drawing room. “Naturally, she would try to please you, simply because she feels guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Both of them stared at Lucinda. “Guilty of what?”

  “Of being a burden to you,” responded Lucinda.

  “That’s ridiculous!” exclaimed Reginald. “Mama could never be a burden!”

  “I don’t believe that’s the same tune you were singing yesterday,” his aunt responded dryly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your mother suffering from the megrims until yesterday. I’ve never seen her so low.”

  “You don’t think she would do anything desperate, do you?” asked Elizabeth, turning to Lucinda fearfully.

  To their dismay, their aunt did not have an immediate rejoinder, and when she did speak, she offered little encouragement. “Until yesterday,” she said slowly, “I would have said absolutely not—that Mercy would never dream of taking her own life—but now I am not so certain. Elizabeth is quite right—Mercy is unhappy and she has been for a very long time.”

  She sat and studied their faces for a moment. “You know, there is a certain irony here. She has been worried about you, Elizabeth, because she knows you are unhappy. It has taken the two of you a very long time to notice that about your mother.”

  “I didn’t realize that Mama is so observant,” replied Elizabeth slowly, “or that she paid that much attention to me.”

  “She apparently is more observant than either of you two,” returned Lucinda crisply.

  “You’re right,” Elizabeth said glumly. “After all, it was Jack who noticed her unhappiness, not us. We were too absorbed in ourselves to spare any attention for her.”

  “Well, I hope that Jack has some notion of how to find her,” said Lucinda. “The rest of us don’t seem to have listened to her closely enough to know what she might do.”

  As a matter of fact, Jack Grant had a much better idea of where to look for her. As he rode toward Liverpool, he recalled a conversation he had had with Lady Lovington when he and the colonel had first arrived. Her genuine concern for the colonel’s well-being had caught him off guard and he had found himself talking much more freely than he normally did. He could remember the conversation clearly.

  “So, Mr. Grant, if you wanted to get away from your present life and you could have a wish granted that would take you anywhere in the world, where would that place be?” She had asked him that one evening when the two of them were on the terrace after dinner. She had been staring up at a tiny chip of golden moon and he had thought then that she was the loveliest woman he had ever seen.

  “Well, I’m not certain, Lady Lovington, but I think that I might go back to Barbados.”

  “To Barbados!” she exclaimed. “You have been there?”

  He nodded. “Once when I was a boy, and again last year.”

  “Is it very beautiful there?” she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

  “Yes—beaches of white sand and bright blue waves lapping in across them. It is wonderful.”

  She had continued to stare dreamily at the moon. “It sounds delightful. Perhaps someday I’ll go to such a place.” If she were thinking of breaking her engagement to the colonel, she might well have decided that she would adventure to such a place. Possibly she had sold her necklace to buy her passage for the journey so that no one would be able to trace her immediately. At least, he thought, it was the only idea he had.

  When he arrived in Liverpool, the docks were alive with activity and the harbormaster’s office was crowded with businessmen, so he stopped at a nearby tavern frequented by sailors to see if any of them knew of a ship about to sail for Barbados. To his delight, he discovered that the Sally T would weigh anchor the very next day for that destination and that her captain was in the tavern. His description of Lady Lovington brought a smile of recognition to the captain’s lips.

  “Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “Mrs. Sterling will be sailing with us. She booked her passage just yesterday.”

  “Do you happen to know where she is staying?” asked Jack eagerly.

  The captain jerked his thumb in an easterly direction. “She is putting up at the Pig and Whistle. It’s not the best pla
ce for a lady, but it will serve for a day or two.”

  Jack found her there, seated in a corner of the busy taproom, writing letters to be delivered to her children and the colonel. He stood unobserved for a moment, noting sadly that there was no note for him. Apparently she was imparting her plans only to her nearest and dearest—and he was not among them.

  Ignoring his own unhappiness, he stepped closer and greeted her cheerfully. “You look very serious, Lady Lovington. What is it that so absorbs your attention?”

  “I have been busy making my plans, sir,” she responded coolly. “I am about to leave the country and I wish to put my affairs in order before I leave.”

  “An admirable sentiment, ma’am. Are you making a very long journey?”

  “It will seem so to me,” she replied, smiling absently. “I am going far away to seek my fortune, sir. I think that it is time that I do so.”

  “Would you like to seek it with me, Mercy?” he asked tenderly, slipping into the chair beside her and drawing close. He took her hand and held it to his lips, watching her carefully.

  “You know full well that I cannot do that, Mr. Grant,” she replied, reclaiming her hand without looking into his eyes.

  “Why is that? Are you not breaking your engagement with Colonel Anderson?” he asked, indicating the letter in front of her.

  “Yes, I am, but I am not doing so because I am running away with you, sir. I am doing it because I know that marrying him would be the wrong thing to do. We would both be unhappy.”

  “I think you are very wise,” said Jack slowly. “I don’t think that the two of you would suit—any more than you and Edward or you and Sir George were suited to each other.”

  She looked up at him then and smiled. “You’re right, of course, Jack,” she replied, falling easily back into the habit of calling him by his Christian name. “And it is so comfortable that you know that.”

  “We would suit, Mercy,” he said, his eyes serious. “Why not go with me to Barbados?”

  Her eyes flew back to his. “So you guessed where I would go?”

  He grinned now, the smile lighting his eyes. “Did you think that I would forget our conversation?” he asked. “I remember everything that you have said to me.”

  “How kind you are,” she murmured, turning away from the intensity of his gaze.

  He caught her arm and turned her back toward him. “It isn’t kindness, Mercy. You know very well that I love you, so why not run away with me?”

  She smiled at him, and for a moment he thought that he had convinced her. Then the smile faded, and her gaze dropped to the letters in front of her.

  “Elizabeth loves you, Jack. How could I possibly marry you and make her unhappy?”

  “You would prefer that you and I be unhappy, Mercy?” he demanded. “Is that the price of Elizabeth’s happiness?”

  “Not your happiness, Jack,” she said in a low voice. “You could be happy with Elizabeth.”

  He snorted. “Not when I am in love with you, ma’am. I can assure you that I will not be marrying Elizabeth, even if you run away to Barbados. So why should you throw our happiness away?”

  “I can’t do it, Jack,” she replied, turning away from him. “Don’t press me to do so.”

  “Very well,” he said, becoming somewhat exasperated with his beloved. “Will you at least come back to London with me? You can tell the colonel face-to-face that you are breaking off your engagement. That would be the courageous way to do it, instead of sending him a letter.”

  Stung by his criticism, Lady Lovington rose to her full height and looked down at him, still seated on the chair beside him.

  “Very well, Jack. I know that you’re correct about facing the colonel. I was taking the coward’s way because I was afraid that I wouldn’t have enough strength to do so if he and my children argued with me about it.”

  “Do you think that you have the courage now?” he asked gently. “I will come with you, if you like, and then escort you back here to put you on the next ship for Barbados.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Jack. And I will do precisely that. I will not give way on this matter.”

  “And I will not ask you to,” he replied.

  Elizabeth sat beside the colonel’s bed as he ate his dinner, once again reading to him to try to raise his spirits. The past three days had taken their toll on him, and she had made it her business to look after him.

  Finally, noting that his expression had not lifted even though she was reading a most amusing part of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she sighed and laid down the book.

  “I am certain, Colonel Anderson, that Mr. Grant will find Mama and bring her back.”

  “I’m afraid, Elizabeth, that that is the problem. He will find her and bring her back. The question is—why is she so unhappy that she ran away to begin with? Is it that she doesn’t wish to marry again?”

  “It isn’t because of you, Colonel Anderson,” Elizabeth assured him warmly. “Why, marrying you would be a wonderful thing. Any woman would be pleased to become your wife.”

  He smiled at her. “I’m afraid that you are overstating the case, my dear, but it’s very kind of you to try to spare my feelings.”

  “I’m not!” she replied indignantly. “You should think better of yourself, Colonel, than to consider for a moment that she might be leaving because of you. The problem is not with you—it’s with Reggie and me.”

  He looked at her in astonishment. “What could be the problem there?” he asked. “I had the impression that she adored you and that the feeling was mutual.”

  “It is,” she sighed. “Well, it almost is,” she added reluctantly. “Mama thinks that she is a burden to us because she has a slight tendency to—to get herself into difficult situations.”

  “Like the race,” he observed.

  “Like the race,” she agreed. “And I’m afraid that, since neither Reggie nor I has the same happy temperament as Mama, that we have criticized her more harshly than we should have.”

  “And she ran away because of that?” he demanded. “Because you said something critical of her? Are you certain of that, Elizabeth? It seems very weak-minded. I had thought your mother a stronger woman than that.”

  Dismayed by his reaction, Elizabeth hastened to try to undo the damage without mentioning that they were afraid that they had forced her into the engagement.

  “Oh, Mama is far from weak-minded, Colonel. It’s just that Reggie and I are very important to her, and I think she takes our comments too much to heart.”

  “That still seems a little—well, I hate to say it of your mother, but it seems a little flighty. I had not thought her so easily swayed. One should be in charge of one’s children, not vice versa—and it is the child who runs away from home, not the mother. Why, you are much more sensible than your own mother, Elizabeth.”

  Even though she was distressed by his reaction, Elizabeth could not help flushing with pleasure at his compliment.

  “You are too hard on her, sir,” she assured him. “When she comes home again, everything will be as it should be.”

  The colonel moved restlessly, causing the pillows behind him to slip out of their proper places. “I don’t think that we can go back to the way things were, Elizabeth. Your mother should have come to me for help if she was distressed. When I am her husband, I would expect her to do just that—and I don’t believe now that she would.”

  “Oh, she would, Colonel, she would,” Elizabeth reassured him, anxious to undo the damage she had done. She leaned close to him to rearrange the pillows in a more comfortable arrangement.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he murmured. “You are very kind to an old man.”

  “Oh, I don’t consider you old!” she exclaimed indignantly. “Just look at yourself, Colonel. How could anyone think of you as old?”

  With a satisfied smile, the colonel sank back into his pillows. Bending close to him once more, she tucked the covers around him. As she did so, her hair brushed softly across his c
heek and, almost involuntarily, he leaned forward and kissed her—a kiss that she warmly returned.

  “I can see that it is just as well that Mercy delayed the wedding, Colonel,” said Lucinda dryly.

  Scarlet-faced, the two jerked apart. “It is not what you think, ma’am,” said Colonel Anderson. “Elizabeth was just straightening the bedcovers for me.”

  “That isn’t what we called it,” returned Lucinda, “but then I am rather old-fashioned in my ways.”

  “And I in mine, ma’am,” replied the colonel stiffly. “I am accustomed to having people accept my word.”

  “And I am quite accustomed to accepting the truth of what I see,” said Lucinda, her tone grim. “I think that Mercy was very wise in waiting to marry.”

  “Why was Mama wise in waiting to marry?” demanded Reginald, who had entered the chamber just in time to hear the last part of Lucinda’s comment.

  “I believe that Colonel Anderson is having second thoughts about the wisdom of his choice of a bride,” replied Lucinda.

  “It isn’t that,” began the colonel, and Elizabeth burst into tears.

  Reginald stared at his sister and then at the colonel and his aunt. “What is taking place here?” he asked. “I have spent every hour combing London for any sign of Mama, and I come home to find the colonel reconsidering his marriage and my sister in tears. Could someone please tell me what is happening?”

  “Don’t listen to Aunt Lucinda!” exclaimed Elizabeth tearfully. “I wasn’t trying to take the colonel’s love away from Mama!”

  It was at this inauspicious moment that Jack led Lady Lovington into the colonel’s chamber.

  “Are we intruding?” he asked coolly, glancing at Mercy to see if she was bearing up under the weight of Elizabeth’s exclamation. To his delight, he could see that a little of her natural color was returning. She had been far too pale on the journey back from Liverpool.

  “Mama!” exclaimed Reginald, turning to embrace her fiercely. “Where the devil have you been? I’ve had the most frightful time trying to find you, knowing that it was my fault that you ran away.”