Mercy ducked her head down and glanced furtively at the other people in the room. “What? You can’t ask me that.”
He looked up, calm as if he’d only just asked her about the condition of the weather. “I wasn’t aware we had put parameters around these questions other than that you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Well, I won’t answer that question. It is impertinent, even for a duke.”
“All right, I’ll rephrase the question. Do you regret not getting engaged to me?”
This she could answer and answer truthfully. In the past month her family had been shunned, her sister disgraced, and Mercy had never once wanted to put Nicholas through that. Not after everything he’d already endured at the hand of Lady Plymton.
She’d followed what was happening in the House of Lords thanks to her father, and even though Nicholas remained out of London unless there was an extremely important vote, Nicholas was starting to gain a reputation there. A good one. Already the budget for relief efforts had been increased by a third, and she knew he’d finally hit his stride with the members of Parliament.
If she’d married him and then Rosalind’s actions had become known, he would not garner the same respect he had now. “No, I don’t. I wish you all the best in the world. You deserve it. And if you feel any regret over—” She paused. How much had those stolen moments with her in the drawing room cost him? Hopefully not as much as they’d cost her. “Anything, I absolve you of it. You only followed my lead. I’ve seen what you’ve been accomplishing these past few months in Parliament, and I’m glad to see you moving forward and not back.”
A muscle clenched in Nicholas’s jaw, and he moved his bishop to the middle of the chessboard almost without looking at it. “I speak of love, and you speak of Parliament. How the tables haveturned.”
“That was always what our courtship was about, wasn’t it?”
He caught her eye, and for a moment, she was lost in what might have been. He shook his head slowly. “No, it was not.”
Mercy waited for a follow-up question, but none came. Mercy slid a bishop a few spaces forward and to the right. As soon as her finger came off the piece, Nicholas took one of her knights with his rook. Blast, she needed to start paying attention. His rook was in prime position to make it to her back row on his next move. She moved her bishop so it would prevent him from going there.
Then he took her bishop with his queen.
Move after move, it was like Nicholas was one step ahead of her. Every time she thought she knew what he was thinking, it ended up being a trap. What was going on? He’d never played with her so decisively before.
She gave up thinking about her moves and simply started moving her pieces faster. She moved a pawn forward, and Nicholas slid his queen to the back of the board. He took one solid look at all the pieces and then caught her eye. “Checkmate.”
She glanced down at the board. They’d only just started playing. He couldn’t be right. But he was. Her king was trapped. He’d won. Her voice was shaky when she looked up. “What just happened?”
“I’ve been practicing for the past two months with my valet. He is quite good. And I told myself if I ever got the chance to match you in wits again, this time, I’d win.”
His smile held no malice, and his victory was anything but boastful. It was more the look of a man that had just shared a secret with her. The spark in his eye made Mercy think perhaps the two of them could be, well, not friends exactly, but acquaintances at least. That was better than enemies at any rate. She returned his grin. “Well, you’ve executed that planmarvelously. I didn’t stand a chance. Congratulations.”
He stood from the table and turned away, but before he got more than two steps, he turned back to her. “Don’t congratulate me yet, I’m not done matching wits with you. I will see you this evening at dinner, Lady Mercy.” Then he strode out of the room.
Chapter 31
When Lady Bryant suggested awalk in the garden before dinner, Mercy jumped at the chance to spend an hour or so out of the house and in conversation with someone who was more or less uninformed as to what had happened between her and Nicholas.
She needed a distraction from Nicholas’s declaration about matching wits. What had he meant? He’d seemed friendly during chess, but was that all a ruse? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security and then find some way to make her pay for her treatment of him? She didn’t know, but getting away from the house and away from him was an opportunity she wasn’t going to pass up.
After fetching their coats, a footman pointed them in the direction of large double doors that opened to a massive stone balcony overlooking the acres of land spilling out behind Brushbend. She’d seen the garden through the window, but that view hadn’t done it justice. At the center of the garden was a massive lake. A boathouse stood on the side closest to them, but dotted around the lake were follies and gardens and hills to explore.
Lady Bryant tightened her grip on her arm and turned to her, eyes sparkling. “Which side of the lake should we see first?”
Lady Bryant’s excitement was contagious. To the left, Mercy could just make out an octagonal structure, most likely a folly, and to the right, there seemed to be some kind of ruins—broken walls and structures with flowers and plants growing around them.
“The right side,” Mercy answered. “The ruins look fascinating.”
Lady Bryant nodded with excitement. “I agree.”
The two of them crossed to the end of the balcony and climbed down the stone steps. A path opened before them, and they followed it.
The ruins had seemed close by when they stood on the balcony,but as they traversed the path, they came across small gardens of flowers and benches, as well as a bridge that crossed over one tendril part of the lake. Each little mystery had to be explored.
Lady Bryant leaned over the bridge railing. “Can you imagine growing up in a place like this?”
Mercy looked back at the palace behind her. It was much grander than her family’s country estate, and she could see from the changes in bricks that at least two additions had been constructed since it was originally built. Probably by one of Nicholas’s irresponsible ancestors. Even still, the home paled in comparison to the garden. She would have happily spent hours exploring a garden like this as a child. Had Nicholas known how fortunate he was? No wonder Lady Plymton was so easily able to charm him. He’d had a fairy-tale existence until she’d come along.
