Mother’s humming stopped, and her head shot up. “What do you mean? I thought Lady Mercy was lovely.”
Nicholas scoffed. Shewaslovely. He had seen her be lovely to nearly every man at the Stafford ball. But the person she had become inside his home was a pale comparison. She’d barely spoken to him. His title, his home, and the pressure of meeting his family had turned her into a version of herself he didn’t recognize. Lady Marion, in her white dress, had been moreinteresting than the Lady Mercy who had arrived at his home this afternoon. “Lady Mercy is lovely. But she clearly has no interest in me.”
Ottersby frowned. “You have no proof of that. Besides, you are a duke.”
Patience shook her head and laid a hand on Ottersby’s shoulder. “Not everyone is a social climber, my dear, even if you were.”
Ottersby tipped his head toward his wife. “And what a rotten one I turned out to be. In the end, I ended up proposing to my bewitching maid.”
Patience smiled, and her eyes lit up as she leaned toward Ottersby. Nicholas knocked a knuckle against the fireplace mantle. This was not the time for him to watch his sister go moon-eyed over Ottersby. Nicholas went back to the figurative drawing board. Lady Mercy, despite her parents’ encouragement, had been incredibly bored or disinterested during her introduction to him. He would have to find someone else. He wouldn’t spend the rest of his life with someone who would rather be elsewhere.
“I think she was simply nervous,” Mother said. “The first time I met your father, I barely spoke three words to him. Perhaps meeting her here was a mistake. The home is a lot to take in.”
That it was, but he had thought to impress her. Instead, he had scared her off. She had almost,almostconnected to him when he had spoken about listening at corridors. He could see it, sitting at the tip of her tongue, but then she changed her mind.
The Lady Mercy he had seen dancing with Lord Dowdle, and even the Lady Mercy he had met in the corridor, would never have stopped to think about what she was saying. She would have simply said it.
Patience sighed deeply, bringing his attention back to her. “I thought she was extremely well-mannered. Isn’t that what youare looking for?”
Ottersby nodded in agreement. They both looked undisturbed by Lady Mercy’s obvious lack of interest in him. Perhaps because they hadn’t seen her like he had. Ottersby tipped his head to one side. “She seems rather perfect for you, really. Demure, careful, attentive. A woman like that could make a fine wife. She would be an asset, to be sure.”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes, and the spaces surrounding Ottersby grew dark. How long had his friend been such a blackguard and so... right? The Lady Mercy who had arrived today had been exactly the type of woman he had thought he was looking for. If he hadn’t seen her broad smiles and sparkling eyes at the Stafford ball, he would still be interested in her.
Hewasstill interested in her.
But she had given him no reason to believeshewas interested inhim. And he knew she was capable of showing interest. Had she, perhaps, an attachment to one of the men she had danced with?
He stepped backward and rested his back against the wall. Leaning his head so he looked at the ceiling, he tried to picture Lady Mercy smiling and encouraging him as she had Lord Dowdle, her lips turned up and eyes sparking with unspoken words. For a moment it felt as if he were falling, and he put his hand on the wall to make certain he wasn’t. Perhaps thinking of how vibrant Lady Mercy could be was not the best of plans. Maybe it would be better for him to find a woman who didn’t excel at showing emotion. Lady Mercy had been dispassionate at tea, but if her ballroom fervor reappeared? How would he handle one of her smiles? Would he be able to control himself? He didn’t spend two years in the army learning self-discipline and control only to lose himself at the sight of someone like Lady Mercy beaming at him.
“I like her,” Mother said. Nicholas jerked his head away fromthe wall. “I like her family as well. It might not have been a perfect meeting, but these things seldom are. Patience met Ottersby after climbing through his hedges. At least it wasn’t as terrible as that.”
Patience snickered and smiled at Ottersby. Then she turned to Nicholas. “I like her too. Why don’t I invite her to the opera? There is room in our box for both of you, as well as her mother.”
The opera? If they sat near each other, it could be an opportunity for the two of them to speak. If she spent more time in his company, perhaps he could meet the woman from the ball instead of this stiff, empty version of her. But sitting together in Ottersby’s box would also lead to speculation about their relationship. He had seen what one dance at a ball had done to set tongues wagging, and he would not subject either of them to that at this early stage of courtship. “No. Not the opera. It is too public. I don’t want all of London gossiping about her. And you all know that’s exactly what would happen. For now, I’ll wait.”
Patience didn’t seem happy with his answer, but she never thought things through completely. That was Nicholas’s job. And he was good at it. He wouldn’t show more interest in Lady Mercy until he saw some evidence that she welcomed it, and if today’s tea was any indication, his wait would either be very long or, more likely, infinite.
Chapter 9
It had been two weekssince the tea, and although Lord Dowdle and Mr. Beauford had both called on Mercy’s family, she had heard nothing from the Duke of Harrington. Her plan had worked decidedly well.
However, Lord and Lady Hafton were hosting a ball this evening, and the Duke of Harrington was a likely guest. If at any point during the ball Mercy forgot that fact, the weight of her enormous drop earrings would serve as heavy reminder. Mercy held the skirt of her forest-green gown and carefully navigated the stairs until she met Mama at the bottom. Mama took her hand immediately. “Remember, if His Grace is at this ball, you must smile at him. Promise me you will smile at him.”
How many more promises would Mercy need to make to Mama this Season? She had half a mind to suggest retiring to the country, but Papa had not stopped speaking of what an opportunity this year was going to be for Mercy. She couldn’t do it. “I will.”
“And you won’t act standoffish toward him as you did at his home?”
Mama had been horrified at how Mercy had behaved at tea, despite Mercy’s professions of shyness and awe. And she had been awed—by his home, at least. But Mama hadn’t forgiven her for not being more flirtatious with him.
He mustn’t have been very serious about pursuing her if one dull afternoon had snuffed out any flames of interest.
“Mama, I hardly know him.”
“And how will you get to know him if you don’t at least try?”
Mama had a point. It wasn’t as though there was anything wrong with the Duke of Harrington. It was simply that... “He is a duke.”
Mama’s eyes sparked, and her smile widened. “I know.”
