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Merry looked up in surprise to see Dinah standing by the door, having evidently slipped inside when they had been busy conversing.
“You have a kind and gentle heart, Merry,” Dinah continued, not smiling nor frowning but rather simply holding Merry’s gaze steadily. “I know that you can find a forgiveness there for Lord Weston, if you wish to. Think on what he has said and done these last few days that has warmed your heart. If you can believe that his declarations were true, then you might be able to consider the conflict that has warred within his heart. He has discovered a new part of himself, a new part of his character that has been at war with the old. A very fitting example of a person finding the light and, therefore, turning their back on the dark, do you not think?”
Merry closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands again. It was not as though she did not appreciate what her sisters, cousin, and mother had to say, but her head was so filled with thoughts and her heart with swirling emotions that she could not find anything coherent to say. Underneath her hurt and her pain, Merry knew that she still had a love for him within her heart, which was why the belief that he had used her as a mere pawn had broken her so terribly. If she accepted that he had made a mistake, that his heart had changed towards her in the course of his attempt to win the wager, then she had to consider what her actions would be next. Would she go to him? Tell him that she believed his words of love and affection and seek to find forgiveness within her own heart? Or would she choose to turn her back on him completely, even though there was the chance of a happy future for them both?
“We should allow Merry some time to consider things alone,” Lady Whitehaven said, evidently seeing Merry’s distress and realizing that she needed to be allowed to think on such matters without interruption. “Come now, girls.” She rose to her feet, just as the maid scratched at the door.
“A tea tray, I think, for Miss Merry,” Lady Whitehaven said, addressing the maid and setting a hand on Merry’s shoulder. “The rest of us will take tea in the library.”
Merry looked up gratefully at her mother, seeing the gentle expression on Lady Whitehaven’s face and knowing that, whatever she decided, her mother would accept her decision without question. “Thank you, Mama.”
“You are most welcome, my dear girl,” Lady Whitehaven said, with emphasis. “And before I forget, here is the note that Lord Weston has written to you, along with the beautiful bouquet that arrived. I leave it up to you as to whether or not you read it, my dear."
Merry took the small folded note from her mother with a murmur of thanks, running her fingers over the unbroken seal. Her heart was in a quandary, her mind going from one thought to the next with such speed that it made it difficult to catch her breath.
“Come and speak to me whenever you are ready,” Lady Whitehaven finished, letting go of Merry’s shoulder and following the others from the room. “And consider it all carefully, Merry. This matter deserves as much thought as you can give it.”
Merry gave her mother a small nod and a watery smile, feeling a weight begin to lie heavily on her soul as the door closed behind Lady Whitehaven. Her mother was correct to state that she had to allow this matter to run through her mind for some time before she made a decision, for her entire future was built upon it. Her tears still lingered, blurring her vision as she looked down at the letter. The last letter she had received from Lord Weston had been one filled with apologies, with words of hope and a request for her consideration. What would be contained within this one? Could she bring herself to read it? Could she allow her heart to fill with him once more, knowing that she could, in the midst of her pain, find a way to forgive him his wrongdoing?
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Merry forced herself to break open the seal and unfolded the letter. She could not simply discard it, could not allow his words to be unread, not if there was the slightest chance that what he had said to her about his love and his affection for her held some truth.
With shaking hands, Merry unfolded the letter and stretched it out in front of her. Having expected it to be filled with words, to have it filled with lines upon lines of his expressions of sorrow, of guilt, and mayhap of love, she was surprised that it only contained a few words. A few words that reached out to her heart, that drew her into his torment and allowed her to linger there.
Forgive me, I beg of you.
Chapte
r Fifteen
Thomas did not know what to do. Lord Henderson had forced him to attend this ball even though Thomas did not want to even leave his house. Over the last few days, he had done nothing but think of Miss Wells, his heart breaking each and every time he recalled her face as she had looked at him with the full knowledge of what he had done. The agony in her expression had tormented him, the way her gaze had fixed upon his whilst her eyes had filled with tears, burning into his very soul.
Standing idly at the back of the ballroom, Thomas let his gaze travel across the room and found no pleasure in what he saw. Only some weeks ago, he would have been delighted to attend such a gathering. He would have been bounding across the room in an attempt to write his name on as many dance cards as he could, catching the eye of many as he did so. Now, he found such a thought revolting.
“Are you going to be all right, old boy?”
Thomas looked across at his friend, seeing the way that Lord Henderson was watching him with concern. “I shall be perfectly fine,” he replied, without any hope whatsoever. “I just do not know the kind of man I shall be when I have recovered.”
Lord Henderson slapped him on the back in what Thomas supposed was meant to be an encouraging gesture. “I, for one, think you have improved remarkably, even if Miss Wells now despises you,” he said bluntly. “Although do not allow your dark state of mind to force you to return to the gentleman you once were. I do not think that going back to your carousing and the like–”
“How can I go near another when Miss Wells is all I can think of?” Thomas whirled around, facing Lord Henderson, who looked back at him in surprise. “I cannot remove her from my heart or my mind. She is unlike any lady I have ever met, and as such, I do not want to be without her.” He shrugged, closing his eyes painfully. “And yet, I must,” he finished, his words burning his mouth and adding to his torture. “This holds no pleasure for me now.”
Lord Henderson sighed heavily as Thomas opened his eyes. “Would that I had never encouraged such a wager,” he muttered, passing one hand through his hair. “Then such a thing as this might never have occurred.”
“No,” Thomas replied firmly, rubbing his forehead in the hope it would relieve some of the pain that lingered there. “Had it not occurred, then I would not now be seeing myself as I truly am. I would never have had the opportunity to realize the depths of my foolishness and selfishness. Do not regret it from that perspective, Lord Henderson. I am slowly becoming a better man, and for that, I am grateful.”
Tilting his head, Lord Henderson’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Have you, as yet, spoken to Lady Reid?” he asked, his voice lowering. “Since she was the one who told Miss Wells the truth, I had wondered if you had confronted her.”
Thomas frowned heavily, his brow furrowing. “I have not seen Lady Reid since that day,” he replied darkly. “Nor do I wish to see her. I fear what I would say should I have that opportunity.”
Lord Henderson jerked his head, his own eyes now holding a faint trace of anger. “She is coming to you now, Weston,” he muttered, his shoulders lifting slightly. “Do you wish me to remove her from your side?”
Thomas stiffened, his fury beginning to burn deep within him. “No,” he said, after a moment, his chin lifting a little. “I shall speak to Lady Reid, Lord Henderson.”
Lord Henderson’s eyes narrowed, fixing themselves to Thomas. “You will not….?” He trailed off, his question remaining unanswered.
“No,” Thomas replied, knowing what Lord Henderson was asking. “No, I shall not make a scene. I shall speak openly and honestly, but I will not draw the attention of those about me. I have no desire to bring any more whispers to Miss Wells’ ears.” That had been the worst of it; knowing that Miss Wells was bearing the brunt of the wagging tongues, the rumors and the gossip that was spreading through London because of his actions.
“I shall make sure to remain by your side, if you have need of me,” Lord Henderson murmured, making Thomas aware that Lady Reid was drawing closer. “Just say the word.”
