Capturing the Earl Page 11

  “Indeed, he seems a fine fellow, considering. Though I’m certain your aunt had a great deal to do with it.” He offered his arm.

  Mercy cringed. She took his offer to see her into the salon. “You might leave the word ‘considering’ off the next time you speak kindly of our host, Mr. Colby.”

  Patting her hand as if she were some child he’d inadvertently offended, his smile didn’t waver. “You know what I mean.”

  “Unfortunately, I know exactly what you mean, sir. I just do not care for your way of thinking.” It was getting harder and harder to keep her word to her aunt.

  “I think much the same as the rest of society.” He stopped at the salon’s threshold.

  “Indeed.” She faced him, taking her hand back. Keeping her voice to a whisper, she added. “That does not make the attitude right. You might have considered your feelings on the subject before you accepted an invitation to the man’s house.”

  “I wished to see you. Does that not gain me any of your good opinion?” It was the first time she’d noticed the way he spoke as if she might not be smart enough to understand his meaning. Did he think her an imbecile?

  Perhaps this was how Mr. Colby dealt with adversity. If she felt inferior, it would be difficult to continue defending Mr. Arafa. However, she did not feel daunted by his wisdom, just bored by his prejudices. “I see my aunt. If you will excuse me, sir.”

  It was worth dealing with Aurora’s mother, who sat with Aunt Phyllis, in order to get away from Mr. Colby before she said something regrettable.

  “Aunt Phyllis, Lady Marsden, how good you both look.” Mercy kissed her aunt’s cheek.

  Lady Marsden said, “I see you arrived with Mr. Colby. He seems a very nice young man. You are quite sought after, it would seem, Miss Heath.”

  Forcing her smile into place wasn’t easy, but Mercy managed it. “Mr. Colby has a great love of music. He admires my playing.”

  “Perhaps he admires a bit more than that, my dear.” Lady Marsden’s grin was too wide and too pleased with her innuendo. “You could do far worse. He has money enough to make you comfortable.”

  “We are not courting, my lady, but thank you for your concern after my future.” Mercy made a quick curtsy and rushed toward Faith and Nick.

  “Are you all right?” Faith whispered and leaned close.

  “Can I never be in a room without someone trying to marry me off to some sod who I haven’t the slightest interest in?”

  Nick’s sympathetic eyes shifted behind her. “Mind your tongue, the sod approaches.”

  Mercy straightened her back and turned to face Mr. Colby.

  “Miss Heath, I fear I have offended you.” His cheeks were red and doubt creased his eyes.

  Unable to stop the sigh waiting in her gut, Mercy let it roll out of her. “Not at all, sir. You could never offend me.”

  Since she cared not a whit for him, this at least was true.

  “I am so relieved.” His grin wide, he continued. “In that case, perhaps I can persuade you to play for us.”

  In the corner by the window sat a very pretty harp, alongside a small but beautiful pianoforte.

  Nick cleared his throat. “Miss Heath has not even had any refreshment. Perhaps she might entertain you after she’s had a sherry with my wife and me.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Wide-eyed, Mr. Colby backed up a step. While he was as tall as Nick, he did not hold the same commanding presence as the Duke of Breckenridge.

  Mercy liked having friends in high places. While she believed Nick would be a good friend even if he were a street vendor, it was handy to have a duke on one’s side. “I would be happy to play the harp after quenching my thirst. Mr. Arafa, where did you find such a lovely instrument?”

  Geb rounded the sofa carrying a glass of sherry, which he handed to Mercy. His own religion didn’t permit him to drink, but he always saw to the happiness of those around him. “It was a gift from a Frenchman before all the war. Perhaps you have heard of him, Jacques-Georges Cousineau? He is a fine harpist and developed several changes for the harp, as I understand it.”

  Mercy’s mouth was agape and she forced it closed. “He’s a virtuoso, sir. It must be quite a story of how you earned such a gift.”

  Laughing, Geb shrugged. “I shall tell you some time, Miss Heath, when we are not in company as it is a long story.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  He bowed. “Then it shall be my pleasure. It is a story I think you will enjoy as you have a keen appreciation for music.”

  Faith hid a snicker behind her hand before sobering. “Mr. Arafa, this is our first time here in warm weather. The gardens are magnificent. Nick and I took a turn before we came to meet the party. It really is wildly charming.”

  “I am pleased you still think so, Your Grace, after the events of last winter.” Worry darkened Geb’s already dark eyes.

  With a warm smile, Faith sipped her sherry. “I will not lie to you, being here has conjured some bad memories for us, but it has also reminded us that this is where we fell in love. Besides, none of what happened was your fault. If anyone was to blame, it was me.”

  “I must take my part in it too,” Nick said. “It was my past that came back to haunt us.”

  Confusion flashed across Mr. Colby’s face, but his gaze flitted to the harp and whatever he’d wanted to ask fled his features. “Have you enjoyed enough sherry to play now, Miss Heath?”

  His voice carried to the dowager. “Oh yes, do play now, Miss Heath.” Her eyes narrowed on Mercy.

  Aurora said, “Mother, Mercy might like to relax before dinner with the rest of our party.”

  From the other corner, Rhys and Poppy stopped their conversation with Geb’s butler, Kosey. Frowning, they turned to the scene being made.

  “I see no reason why she can’t play for us,” Lady Marsden scolded her daughter.

  Mercy felt Wesley enter without looking at the doorway. He sucked up all her air in a way that she couldn’t help notice. Taking the easy way out, she forced a smile and placed her glass on the table. “It would be my pleasure to play such a lovely instrument.” Then her wicked side kicked in. “Maybe Mr. Kosey would be willing to accompany me on the pianoforte?”

  A cough from Nick hid his amusement. He whispered, “You are pushing your luck, Mercy.”

  The most delightful surge of joy flooded her. “Indeed, I am.” Smiling at her friends, she waggled her brows at them.

  Faith and Nick laughed.

  Kosey stared for a long moment. “It would be my delight, Miss.”

  The look of amused censure on Aunt Phyllis’s face did not stop Mercy from crossing the room and taking up the small chair behind the harp. “It has been some time since I’ve practiced the harp. You will forgive me if I’m slightly off.”

  Hands on her hips, the Dowager Countess of Marsden stalked over. “You cannot possibly think to play alongside a servant.”

  “Mr. Kosey is an accomplished musician, my lady.” Mercy said.

  The countess drew close, leaving only the large harp between them. “It is unseemly and I cannot be present for such a display.”

  The anger that had stewed in Mercy’s belly for so many years bubbled up to the surface. She narrowed her gaze on the insufferable woman and kept her voice low. “My lady, you have often treated me little better than a servant, demanding I play for you on command whenever you wanted to make sure everyone in the room knew I was not as good as you. You have embarrassed me on more occasions than I can count. Tonight is no exception. If you leave the room, your daughter and son will be embarrassed by your behavior, not mine.

  With a barely audible huff, Lady Marsden straightened and walked to the other side of the room, though she didn’t leave.

  Mercy hadn’t seen Wesley move, but she noticed him now a few feet away, leaning casually against the w
indow casing. One side of his mouth pulled up in a grin.

  Running her fingers along the cool strings produced a warm lovely sound. “Mr. Kosey, will you pick a piece? I will follow you.”

  With the composed nod of a butler, Kosey began to play a piece written for the harp by a Frenchwoman named Marie-Elizabeth Cléry. It would showcase her skills far more than his, but his adaptation for pianoforte was inspired.

  By the time they played the last note and Mercy placed both hands on the harp strings to cease their vibration, the room was completely still and Mercy’s cheeks were wet with tears.

  Breaking the trance, she smiled and patted her cheeks.

  The room erupted in applause.

  Wesley handed her his handkerchief. “You do live dangerously, Miss Heath. May I escort you.” He offered his arm.

  Patting the soft linen under her eyes, she dried her face. She offered the cloth back, but he declined to take it. With a smile, she gripped it tightly. “Would you give me a moment, my lord.”

  Nodding, he straightened but did not move away.

  Mercy turned to Kosey and stepped close to where he stood behind the pianoforte. “Mr. Kosey, I owe you an apology.”

  “It is not necessary, Miss Heath.” His white teeth shone in a brief smile.

  Determined, she pressed forward. “I think it is. I used you to make a point to a few small-minded people. I fear this does not make me much better than those who have used me for similar gains.”

  Dressed as he was in a white livery and the addition of a white turban around his head, he was by far the tallest person in the room. His serious gaze held hers. “I think you needed to make that point this evening or the rest of your time here at Parvus you would not be content. I am happy to have been the tool with which you shook the foundation of ignorance.”

  A lump tightened Mercy’s throat. “You are too kind, sir.”

  He bowed.

  Wesley cleared his throat. “Miss Heath, may I escort you now?”

  With a slow nod, Mercy turned and took Wesley’s arm. Almost immediately her three friends pulled her away. The feel of his fine coat under her fingers remained with her even as she left to refresh herself before dinner.

  They closeted themselves in Mercy’s bedchamber. Flushed but happy, Mercy fixed a lock of hair that had come lose from her coif.

  “Even Mother was impressed, Mercy. I think you made your point.” Aurora sipped a glass of wine.

  Faith took the glass from her and downed the rest. “Goodness, but you do make a stir. I mean, Mercy, you who are always so proper. What were you thinking?”

  “That I’m tired of feeling like I’m second best to everyone else in the room.” It was the most honest thing she’d ever said or even thought.

  Poppy knelt in front of her. “Oh, sweetheart, I hope you don’t think that really. We love you. I think of you as my sister. How can that be second?”

  Her tears reappeared and Mercy used Wesley’s handkerchief to dab them away. She tucked the fine cloth in her reticule and took Poppy’s hands. “I know. I think of you all as sisters as well. But over the years, when it is not just the four of us, I have let people like Aurora’s mother, Lady Agatha, and Mary Yates make me feel lesser.”

  Aurora hugged Mercy around the shoulders. “My mother is not fit to judge you. She doesn’t even care that I have no interest in marrying. She would have her own daughter be miserable as long as it made her look good in the eyes of society. You should never let her make you feel anything, Mercy.”

  Faith joined the huddle. “Lady Agatha is long in our past and Mary Yates is left to her own misery. We should feel sorry for her. You are far and away superior to either of them.”

  Mary Yates was the schoolmate who had dubbed them Wallflowers. Last year they had come into contact with her and she was just as wretched as ever, but Faith was correct that she was also far more pitiable with only her miserable parents for company. “I know you are right. I’m sorry for going too far tonight.”

  Poppy laughed and squeezed her hands. “Too far? Pish. I thought it perfect and your playing was so beautiful. I would have paid real money to see her ladyship dab tears away from her eyes and I didn’t have to spend a farthing. Even she can’t help but be mesmerized by how wonderful you are.”

  “And you never need apologize to us,” Aurora said.

  “That is certain,” Faith added.

  Standing, Poppy winked. “I would love it if we could beg off dinner and stay up here all night, but we must return. I can’t abandon my husband to his mother for dinner.”

  Faith smoothed her gown. Her curvaceous form filled it magnificently despite her small stature. “Yes, we must return.”

  Mercy swallowed down the mass of tears her friends’ love locked inside her. “You three go down. I’ll be down in a few minutes. I just need to gather my wits to face Aunt Phyllis.”

  Aurora nodded. “If it helps, your aunt did not look off-put by what happened.”

  “Thank you.” Mercy stared into the mirror until the door, closed leaving her alone. “I’m a fool.” She knew she should have played the good girl and kept peace between herself and Lady Marsden, but her temper got away from her tonight. Mr. Colby was likely shocked and would not wish to court her anymore. That was not so tragic, but her aunt would be disappointed in her. Closing her eyes, she took a long breath in before standing and returning to the party.

  At dinner Mercy was seated between Rhys and Wesley. She should have been much lower at the table, but it seemed Geb didn’t care about such customs and had randomly seated his guests.

  Unsure of herself, she spoke only when spoken to through the first two courses. The young chef at Parvus was excellent and Mercy kept her attention on the sumptuous food.

  The table was animated with talk of plans for the next day when the fish was set before them and Wesley spoke for her ears only. “Are you all right, Miss Heath?”

  “Fine, thank you, my lord.” Her heart pounded too quickly.

  “That is the second time your emotions overcame you while playing. Does this not disturb you?” He allowed his tone to return to normal conversation.

  “I’m sorry if it distresses you, my lord. I am used to the emotional effects of playing a fine piece of music.”

  Rhys leaned in. “Those of us who have been lucky enough to hear Mercy play for many years have grown to admire exactly how much of herself our girl puts into her music.”

  “Indeed.” Wesley’s frown might have bothered Rhys if he hadn’t been distracted by the succulent fish plate before him.

  It was best to keep her attention on her food and avoid the unsettling emotions Wesley’s attention had on her. If she spent too much time with him, she might do something even more ill-advised than playing with Mr. Kosey in mixed company.

  “Miss Heath?”

  “Yes, my lord?” her pulse pounded in her ears.

  “I noticed you have not worn your spectacles this evening.”

  “I have no need to wear them for dining.” Still, the idea that he thought her pretty circled around her heart.

  “Yet, I imagine it might be nice to see what one is eating. I know I enjoy seeing everything in my world.” He sighed as if disappointed she’d not taken his advice.

  Turning toward him, she smiled. “Thank you for your attention, my lord.”

  “What are the two of you speaking about?” Lady Marsden demanded.

  Without losing a beat, he turned to her and grinned most charmingly. “I was wondering why Miss Heath does not wear her spectacles.”

  A low laugh that held no humor gurgled from Lady Marsden. “The lady is vain, of course.”

  Aunt Phyllis cleared her throat. “I do not find my niece to be any vainer than any other woman.”

  While Mercy appreciated her aunt’s defense, she couldn’t stomach being spoken about as
if she were without voice. “I’m afraid it is vanity that keeps my eyewear tucked away unless needed in company. I do wear them more often when at home with only Aurora.”

  “My fault, I’d wager,” Aunt Phyllis said. “In my efforts to have the most respectable men court my dear niece, I have often asked her to remove the spectacles.”

  “I think they look very fine on you, Miss Heath.” Mr. Colby spoke around a full mouth of food. It was the first time he’d made eye contact with her since she’d arrived back from her room. She had a hope that he’d been so appalled by her playing alongside Kosey that he might have given up his pursuit.

  She could not be so lucky.

  Everyone at the table was staring at Mercy.

  “If it is important to all of you, I will wear my spectacles.” Reaching into her reticule, careful not to let the handkerchief Wesley had given her be seen, she retrieved her eyewear and put them on.

  One by one the group went back to their conversations and eating. Mercy surveyed the table. It was the first time she’d ever been at such a big table with her spectacles on.

  “What do you think, Miss Heath?” Wesley’s tone was private.

  A bubble of nervous laughter tumbled from her. “I think not seeing was very isolating even when in a crowd.”

  He nodded. “I cannot tell if you prefer to join the group or preferred the isolation.”

  “Nor can I just yet, my lord.”

  His smile was intimate, just for her. Mercy wished she could tuck that away with his handkerchief and keep it to look upon later.

  Chapter 10

  It seemed that Aurora did not like to play cards and so sat with Faith on a small settee against the wall. The room that was generally used for Mr. Arafa’s office had been converted into a card parlor for the evening. There were two tables set out for those who wished to play.

  Two small chairs faced the settee, arranged for conversation, and Wesley joined the two ladies there. “May I sit with you?”