He stepped aside. “I am perfectly all right.” He gave her a short nod and proceeded toward the door. If he could get out of door and turn right, there was an exit to the back garden. It was a cold night, but cold night air was exactly what he needed. He managed to make it the rest of the way out of the house without another incident.
Once outside, he strode to the back of the garden, shielded himself behind a large knotted oak, and pressed his forehead against the rough bark. He closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He reached into the pocket of his jacket for his handkerchief, and his knuckles brushed up against something thin and stiff there as well.
He pulled it out.
It was a note. How had a note ended up in his pocket?
There was no seal—only a piece of paper folded in half. He opened it. It was not addressed to him, nor was it signed. Thetype of note that would incriminate no one if found.
I must speak to you. I cannot leave things the way we left them. I have not given up hope for a future together. Meet me in the library at ten o’clock.
What the devil? Had Mercy given him this note? When would she have had the chance? In the drawing room, her hands had roamed his person freely. She could have slipped the note inside his pocket, but what would have been the point? They’d been speaking then. No, she must have written this note after she’d left him. But how had it gotten into his jacket pocket?
Lady Yolten.
As informal as she was, she had never laid her hands on him as intimately as she had moments ago. He had chalked that up to how terrible he must have looked, but he was wrong. She was a close friend of Mercy and would not be the type to faint at the prospect of delivering a clandestine correspondence. No wonder her hands had lingered on him longer than he thought necessary. It wasn’t because she had been worried about him. She had simply wanted to deliver this message.
He pulled out his pocket watch. It was half past nine.
I have not given up hope for a future together.
He dug his fingers into the bark of the dark oak in front of him. From despair to hope. How quickly could one body handle the change of such emotions? He needed to be cautious. He’d practically invited Lady Marion to his estate, for heaven’s sake.
But that was not the same as an engagement. Or even a courtship. He was still free to pursue Mercy if she wanted him.
Why the library? And why another meeting alone? The last one had proven to be a disaster. He’d taken advantage of Mercy’s innocence when he should have protected her instead. If she wanted a repeat of what happened in the drawing room, it wouldn’t happen without an official engagement first. The smartthing to do would be to deliver a card after the ball asking to call in the morning. It was the only logical answer.
But as much as he tried to talk himself out of meeting with Mercy, he knew he would be in that library at ten. Years of training himself to think with his head and not with his heart had come to nothing where Mercy was concerned.
He had to find out what was wrong.
Chapter 28
Mercy thanked Mr. Palmer fora lovely dance, and he led her to Mama. She’d never danced with Mr. Palmer before, and she doubted she would have the opportunity again. She had hardly been an encouraging dance partner.
She hadn’t seen Nicholas since his dance with Lady Marion.
Mama smiled at Mr. Palmer and at Mercy, but her smile toward Mercy was forced. She still hadn’t forgiven her for not being able to coerce Nicholas into proposing to her.
Another half hour and she should be all right. She’d only thought herself in love with him for a few short minutes. Before speaking with Rosalind, she may have thought falling in love was out of her control, that if she didn’t take this chance with Nicholas, she would never have another shot at love. But Nicholas had been right all along; love shouldn’t make a person forget everyone else around them or make them do things they knew to be wrong. Love should be calculating, and it should make sense.
And she was certain living without Nicholas would make sense someday.
Years from now.
In the meantime, she would not bring disgrace to his family.
“Mercy,” a low voice hissed to her left, and she spun. Penelope was smiling and motioning toward the door with her eyebrows.
“Excuse me, Mama. I’m going to visit with Penelope.”
Mama glanced at Penelope, her eyes pausing at her elaborate headdress of feathers and pearls. Based on her quick frown, it seemed that even Mama had a limit to how much jewelry was acceptable, and Penelope had managed to exceed it.
Still, Mama smiled. Penelope was one of Mercy’s highest-ranking friends, and while that hadn’t mattered in the past, suddenly every relation that might be willing to weather this storm with them mattered now. “Of course.”
Penelope took Mercy’s hand and practically dragged her to the corridor. Once alone, she took both of Mercy’s hands in her own. “I’ve done it. I’ve got everything arranged for tonight. We simply need to decide how far we want to take this business with His Grace and Lady Plymton.”
Mercy shook her head and tried to piece together what Penelope was saying. “What do you mean, His Grace and Lady Plymton?”
