Capturing the Earl Page 7

  Too much temptation drew her close. “And what happens after that? What happens to all the people who are counting on you for the things you say you must do?”

  Pain etched lines around his eyes and shapely lips. He stepped back. “You’re right, of course.”

  Mercy drew a deep breath to clear her head of both desire and disappointment. She was familiar with both, but never had a man shaken her resolve so thoroughly. “It is only the music, my lord. You will recover your senses soon enough.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You play with such abandon and live with such restraint. Is it intentional or have you cultivated this over time?”

  “I cannot control my emotions when faced with music and to play a Stradivarius is a great boon.” She kept her voice under tight control.

  Head cocked, he stared and frowned. “You know that woman used you to impress her guests?”

  “I know.” Mercy had known for years that her ability to entertain and her friendship with Aurora was the only reason she and her aunt were invited to such evenings.

  “Yet you play on command just the same. She treats you little better than a servant and invited that clergyman to woo you as some kind of example of where you stand in comparison to her daughter. How can you bear it?” His fist and jaw clenched until his teeth scraped.

  She could hear his unchained anger, but his concerns warmed her even though she found it confusing. He must know as well as Aurora’s mother that she was beneath him in rank. “Aurora is my dearest friend. She, Faith, and Poppy have always treated me like an equal despite my lower station. One cannot expect to be treated by everyone as an equal when I am clearly not. What would you have me do, make a scene, refuse to play?”

  “Yes,” He gave a sharp nod.

  The anger emanating from him and the easy way he would have her toss aside her narrow hold in her friends’ company lit a fire inside Mercy. “That would be foolish and my friend would have to deal with censure from her mother. Not to mention that playing that violin was a highlight of my life in a way you will never understand. Do not dare to judge me, sir. You hardly know me and know nothing of what my life is and will be.”

  Like a snake attacking his prey, Wesley’s arm sprang out and gripped her around the waist. He dragged her close, eyes flashing.

  She gasped, not sure if she should push him away or cling to him.

  His tight grip eased and his gaze softened. “I think you are magnificent in many ways, Miss Heath.…”

  There was more behind his tender expression, but he let her go and stepped back. “Forgive me for my rudeness. I’m happy that you were able to play tonight. It is selfish of me, but I have never heard or felt anything like it.”

  How it was possible he didn’t hear her pounding heart, she didn’t know. It sounded like a full parade in her ears. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  After a long hesitation, he nodded, turned, and left her in the garden.

  Mercy stared after him and had to tell herself to close her mouth. His ever-changing moods worried her and she’d need to know if it was only in her presence that he ran hot and cold so erratically.

  Strolling back to the house, she made sure he was inside a full ten minutes before she reentered and found her way to the parlor, where everyone chatted and sipped sherry or brandy.

  Avoiding the hostess was paramount in Mercy’s mind after the things Wesley said. It shouldn’t matter, but she didn’t want him to see her as a servant. He approached Aurora, who watched the gathering from a safe vantage near the fireplace.

  With a long breath, Mercy strode across the room to join them and make sure Aurora wasn’t left alone with him.

  “Lady Radcliff, I wonder if I might call on you tomorrow. I have something to discuss that might be of interest to you.” Wesley’s smile was easy but didn’t touch his eyes.

  “I have no engagements tomorrow.” Aurora’s voice caught, but she plastered a dull look on her face.

  Mercy stepped close to them. “I too shall be home tomorrow,” she said with more glee than was appropriate.

  His frown didn’t make him less handsome and it was very annoying that he was beautiful despite his annoyance at her feeble attempt discourage his attentions to Aurora.

  “Then I will see both of you tomorrow.” He narrowed a gaze on Mercy before giving Aurora a smile and excusing himself.

  A low laugh bubbled from Aurora. “You are about as subtle as a horse in the parlor, Mercy.”

  “I’m trying to keep him away from you so he’ll get the hint that you’re not interested.”

  Aurora shook her head. “Perhaps we should go and see this property in Cheshire. It seems he’s going to a lot of trouble over a plot of land that I know nothing about. I might like to settle there if it’s nice.”

  “Do you want to marry Lord Castlewick?” Mercy’s voice was low so that only Aurora heard her. Her heart tightened into a stone and breathing was not easy.

  “Lord, no. I just think it’s worth a trip north to see what all the fuss is about.” She patted her perfect hair as if it might slip out of place. Of course, not one strand ever did.

  The stone eased but didn’t go away. Mercy said, “We are going to Mr. Arafa’s home in a few weeks. Perhaps we can travel from there to Cheshire. It should only be a few days from there.”

  “That is an excellent plan. Mother will want to accompany us,” she ended on a sigh.

  “I’m sure Aunt Phyllis will wish to come as well,” Mercy added.

  “Your aunt is always welcome. She is the only parent we Wallflowers have that seems to care more for us than for titles and parcels of land.”

  Mercy loved her aunt. When her parents had died, Aunt Phyllis had taken her in. She’d only sent her to the Wormbattle school because her husband had demanded they travel for a few years. When Sir John Mattock had died, Aunt Phyllis had wanted Mercy to come home. By then Mercy was fond of school and had good friends. She’d only gone back to London for a few weeks before returning to Switzerland. “Aunt Phyllis is quite fond of all the Wallflowers and would do anything to see us happy, true parent or not.”

  “She will keep Mother in check as well. It could be fun.” Aurora smiled.

  “I will discuss it with her this week,” Mercy said.

  Aurora pulled a face. “I think I shall wait until the last moment to tell Mother. She’s already put out by the notion of attending Mr. Arafa’s house party.” Aurora put her sherry glass down on the mantle. It was half full, but she never finished a drink when they were in public. Aurora was very keen on being in control at all times. After being married to a monster for three years, it was little wonder she’d grown used to being on guard.

  “I assume you told her she need not go.” Mercy took up Aurora’s glass and downed the remaining sherry. “It’s not as if you require a chaperone.”

  After a long sigh, Aurora nodded. “I told her, but she thinks I am wasting my beauty on a silly notion that husbands should be good to their wives.”

  “Good Lord, she didn’t actually say that, did she?” The way some women thought always baffled Mercy.

  “Of course, she did. You would have thought that years of bullying by my father would have shown her that was no life for anyone, but she can only see what is proper in society’s view.” Sorrow laced Aurora’s sharp words.

  “You remaining a single widow is perfectly acceptable if you wish,” Mercy countered, trying to think of some way to rid them of her ladyship for the house party.

  Aurora pulled her shoulders back. “Even if it were not, I have no intentions of ever marrying again. Not Lord Castlewick or anyone else, no matter how kind they seem.”

  “Then we shall discourage his lordship from his quest.” The tightness in Mercy’s chest eased. The idea of spending time with Wesley after Aurora became his wife hurt her more than she would have thought. N
ow the man just had to be deterred. She didn’t care who he eventually married, but it would not be her friend and that was all that mattered. “I am so looking forward to Mr. Arafa’s brand of society.”

  Geb Arafa was an Egyptian living in England. He had a small castle in the country, which was where the house party was set to take place. The castle had some difficult memories for Faith and Nicholas, but they said they would not be bothered and needed to make new memories to fill those parts of their minds.

  “Do you know if Faith is bringing the puppy?” Aurora asked.

  Faith joined them with Poppy. “Rumple is hardly a puppy anymore. He weighs more than me. It’s lucky he’s of a good nature or he could tear the entire house down. I had planned to bring him. Do you object, Aurora?”

  “No. I was just curious about how much similarity you will wish to have with your last visit to Parvus.” Worry darkened the blue of Aurora’s eyes.

  Poppy threaded her arm through Faith’s and gave her a squeeze.

  With a shrug, Faith’s gaze was steady and sure. “You will all be there and Mr. Arafa. It will be nothing like before. That was winter as well. It will be a lovely time and a bit crowded too.” She laughed.

  “Oh, Aurora, perhaps you can convince your mother the castle is too small and she should stay home.” Mercy meant it as a joke.

  Aurora cocked her head. “I doubt that will work. I think she’s rather curious about Mr. Arafa. Many of her friends speak of him with both fascination and disdain.”

  Rolling her eyes, Poppy scoffed. “Those people hate anyone who isn’t just like them. Meanwhile, Geb Arafa is a better man than most and a fine friend to have. Half of London goes to him for artifacts and then speaks badly about him behind his back. I, for one, am pleased to call him my friend.”

  Rhys sauntered over and pressed close to his wife. “Who is your friend, Poppy?”

  “Mr. Arafa.” Poppy briefly leaned into Rhys before straightening.

  Rhys’s blond hair gleamed in the candlelight. He grinned. “A fine fellow.”

  A laugh from across the room drew Mercy’s attention to where Wesley and Nick were standing by the window talking. His laugh filled the room with warmth and Mercy longed to hear the sound again. She liked the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed. It made her think he did so often, if not in her presence.

  “Miss Heath,” the dowager called. “Won’t you play for us again. I hate to see the pianoforte go unused with all these people clamoring for entertainment.”

  Wesley’s smile fell and his eyes narrowed on her.

  Part of her wanted to rebel and tell the dowager countess what she could do with her pianoforte, but she just gave a nod and went to the instrument. It was where she was most comfortable anyway. Though she was also at home with the other Wallflowers.

  “A fine idea, my lady,” Mr. Garrott exclaimed with a clap of hands.

  Poppy murmured, “Fool” under her breath.

  Mercy lifted the cover off the keys and rested her fingers on the smooth ivory. Without bothering with sheet music, she played a Beethoven piece that had come to her attention a few years earlier. She wanted to play it on that violin too, but of course one could not play both at once. She laughed at herself. A nice flute would be fine too. She would practice it on hers when she arrived at home.

  “This piece is on the sad side too, Miss Heath. Do you only play music that moves one to tears?” Wesley placed one strong hand on the top of the pianoforte, his tanned skin a stark contrast to the white paint. What did he do to retain such a tan?

  She didn’t miss a note as she shrugged. She’d been so caught up in her own notions of music, she’d not seen him approach and didn’t know how long he’d been watching her musings. “This is not so much sad as tempered. It has its bright spots and is quite lively with other instruments in accompaniment.”

  “Is that what you were just thinking about?” His smile was enough to send her body up in flames.

  It annoyed her that he’d read her mind. “My thoughts are my own, my lord. I may be the entertainment, but I am still a lady and have much to keep to myself.”

  Something flashed in his dark eyes that might have been shame. “I meant no disrespect, Miss Heath. I would never have you play for the amusement of others unless it was your wish, nor would I deprive you of your privacy.”

  Mercy wanted to leap up and assure him that she’d overreacted. She hated seeing him distraught and that she was the cause of it burned a hole in the stone where her heart had once been. If she ceased playing, all attention would be on them. As it was, the rest of the people in the room were quietly speaking in small groups as the evening wound down. Continuing her play, she said, “I should not have reacted so meanly, my lord. Please forgive me. I suppose our conversation in the garden had drawn my attention to her ladyship’s use of my skills. I hope you will forgive me.”

  A myriad of emotions flew past those eyes that she admired more than she should. “It is I who should beg forgiveness.”

  With them both contrite the round of apologies might never cease. Mercy bit her lip to hide a smile. “Perhaps we might acknowledge our mutual sorrow and move forward, my lord.”

  His full grin sent her stomach flipping and a warmth through her. Adjusting herself on the bench only worsened her situation and she drew her attention to the keys rather than continue to gaze at him.

  A true gentleman would have walked away, but Wesley tortured her. “Have I discomposed you in some way?”

  “No.” Her answer came too quickly. She sucked in a long breath. “If you remain here, my lord, our hostess will make a scene that will surely embarrass us both. Perhaps you might leave me to my playing now?”

  Mercy kept her eyes on the keys.

  “As you wish, Miss Heath.” His voice was a cold whisper.

  From the corner of her eye, he retreated toward where her aunt and Aurora’s mother sat. Focusing on her music, she was determined not to show emotions that would serve no purpose.

  Chapter 6

  The idea of going to visit Aurora as he’d indicated gave Wesley a sinking stomach. She was a lovely woman, smart and clever from what he’d seen, but there was a good likelihood that Mercy would be at the West Lane townhouse as well. He didn’t think he could survive another encounter with her so soon.

  He shook off these unhelpful thoughts and, having risen early, rode to Jaffers Fencing Club to see if he might work off some of his frustration with a good match. The clash of steel as he entered was familiar and he longed for this type of club, where there were no women. Not that all women were distracting, but lately he could not seem to avoid the Wallflowers of West Lane and one in particular was on his mind all the time. Unfortunately, it was not the correct one.

  Determined to focus on something else, he strode through the door and scanned the long hall with its raised rows. Early morning sun shone through the tall windows, each one throwing shards of light that highlighted the dust like a thousand stars dancing.

  Of the three risers, two were in use. Each held a pair of gentlemen engaged in a fencing duel. The battle on the right was quite beautiful as both men were skilled. The two on the left were in danger of harming each other even with the blunted tips due to their clumsiness. The one farther away caught his opponent in the upper arm and his white blouse immediately stained red.

  Wesley winced.

  The injured man’s sword clattered to the floor as he gripped his wound.

  “It was bound to happen.” Nicholas Ellsworth said from behind Wesley’s shoulder.

  Turning, Wesley nodded. “Those boys have no business sporting up there.”

  Several men climbed the platform to offer assistance and a proper scolding.

  Nick and Wesley watched the scene for a few moments before Nick said, “Would you care for a match, Wes? You’ve been away from Jaffers too long.”
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br />   Wesley grinned. “I imagine with your new and happy marriage; you are not here often either.” He took off his coat and donned the protective vest handed to him by one of Jaffers’ valets. He took hold of a mask to keep his face safe and gripped his foil in his right hand.

  Nick was already suited up for the duel and they walked to the empty platform. “It is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make. I have been trying to get here in the mornings lately to get some exercise. I don’t wish to grow fat along with happy.” His beaming smile spoke volumes more than his honest admission.

  “I’m pleased for you, Nick. Truly, I am. But would you mind if we didn’t speak of your wife or any of her friends for the next hour?” They reached the top of the platform and put on their masks.

  A low chuckle came from behind the screened helmet hiding Nick’s face. “The Wallflowers of West Lane can vex even the saintliest of men. You have my word. I shall not mention them until our duel is complete and even then, I’ll keep my peace if you wish.”

  “I’m no saint.” Wesley took his en garde stance.

  The fury that had welled up inside Wesley for the months since he’d met Mercedes Heath poured out of him like a geyser. All thoughts of a friendly match set aside, Wesley slashed left and then right until he’d backed Nick to the edge of the platform.

  Heaving, he raised his arm for the killing blow, but felt the dull thump of Nick’s blade hit his ribs hard enough to wake him from his rampage.

  “What’s gotten into you, Wes? You’re never this reckless.” Nick walked back to the center and took up a ready stance.

  Wordlessly, Wesley followed but didn’t bother with the courtesy of the salute. He plunged forward and was immediately swept aside by Nick’s deft move and another touch that would likely leave a bruise on his back.

  Even under the shadow of the mask, Nick’s cocked head begged to question Wesley’s stupidity.

  Forging forward, Wesley lunged.

  Nick spun to the side, easily avoiding the blade. He slid his foot out and toppled Wesley. Nick’s knee pressed Wesley’s sternum and his dulled blade was pressed to just under Wesley’s throat. “Care to talk about it?” Nick asked mildly.