***
Christian Stanhope watched Christopher, Olivia and Catherine - or Kit, Ollie and Kate as they were more commonly known - as they made the most of the unseasonal weather. Though the hour was still early, the twins were currently sat on top of their brother pummelling him with snow. The Earl winced, giving a rueful grin while wondering whether he should intervene.
The girls were entirely too much for his bookish son to fight off alone, though he suspected Kit would not appreciate his father’s interference. In truth, when the twins were together, they were almost impossible for anyone to control. What was it about Shackleford women? He shook his head and chuckled to himself. He loved all his children fiercely, but he had to admit to having missed Mercedes this last month. The twins adored her, and whenever Mercy was in the house, they gravitated towards their half-sister, giving the rest of the household a little well-earned respite.
‘Have they suffocated him yet?’ Christian turned at the sound of Chastity’s voice and shook his head with a grin.
‘Kit is far too soft on them,’ his wife continued, coming to stand at the window to watch the play fight. ‘They run rings round him I’m afraid.’
‘I’m sensing a common theme with the males in this family,’ Christian retorted drily.
Chastity looked at him and winked. ‘We wouldn’t want any of you to be bored,’ she quipped, then laughed at his answering look. Have you heard from Mercy?’ she asked, thinking it a good time to change the subject.
‘She sent a messenger to say they had left Tewkesbury and were hoping to arrive before dark today. He gestured to the white blanket in front of them. ‘Of course, that was before the snow arrived. They might be forced to stay an extra night in the Swan.’
‘Oh, I hope not,’ Chastity exclaimed. ‘I’ve missed her dreadfully.’ She shook her head, ‘Along with fearing that some Scottish laird might sweep her off her feet. I don’t think I could bear it if she went so far away.’
‘Mostly because she’s the only one who can control the twins,’ Christian gibed.
‘That is absolutely not true,’ Chastity protested a little too vehemently, before adding with a rueful grin, ‘well mayhap just a little… But you know I love her dearly.’
‘And she loves you,’ Christian responded, taking his wife in his arms. ‘In truth, you’ve been the most wonderful mother to her, and I’ll be forever grateful to you.’
‘I feel as though she’s mine,’ Chastity responded simply, leaning forward to kiss him.
‘Well, she’s certainly got the Shackleford determination to go her own way as we recently discovered,’ Christian chuckled. ‘I blame it on Prudence.’
‘Poor old Pru - being the youngest, she gets the blame for everything. But at least Mercy listens. Unlike our youngest two mischief-makers.’
‘Until she doesn’t,’ Christian grimaced. ‘I confess I’ve been more than a little concerned about her going so far in your father’s company.’
Chastity gave an inelegant snort, ‘Whatever she may or may not have done will not have been due to his influence. My father’s always been excellent at thinking about his own requirements whilst leaving the rest of us to do whatever we wanted.’
Christian raised his eyebrows. ‘But what about all his meddling and interference?’
Chastity shrugged. ‘I think he always thought of it as damage limitation. And his meddling was usually his way of trying to put things right after whatever disaster had occurred. He was never very good at thinking ahead.’
‘I never quite thought of it that way,’ her husband admitted with a frown causing Chastity to shake her head and laugh.
‘Don’t worry about Mercy, darling. She’s more than capable of making her own decisions, and at the end of the day, I’m certain she’d never do anything that might cause you to worry…’
***
‘She’s gone!’ The Reverend burst into his wife’s bedchamber without knocking, resulting in Agnes only narrowly avoiding shoving her morning tonic up her nose.
‘What do you mean? Who’s gone where?’ the matron demanded, hurriedly putting the bottle down.
‘Mercedes,’ he roared. ‘She’s not in her room.’ He waved a scrap of paper around. ‘She left this.’ He sounded on the verge of tears, and Agnes frowned, wondering if he was about to have an apoplexy. She’d never seen her husband so up in the boughs.
‘Let me see,’ she ordered, holding out her hand for the note. Seconds later, she gave a small moan and fumbled around for her salts.
‘Stanhope will never forgive us,’ the Reverend groaned. ‘I knew I should have taken that fellow’s offer of help last eve.’
‘She says she’s gone with him to ensure our safety,’ Agnes countered firmly. ‘Surely our best recourse is to get to Cottesmore as soon as possible. If this blackguard is watching us as Mr. Harding suggested, then he’ll know Mercy’s not in the carriage and will leave us be.’
‘Unless he drags us out of the coach and tortures us until we tell him where she is,’ the Reverend muttered darkly.
‘I hardly think he will go to such great lengths, Augustus,’ Agnes declared, though her conviction appeared to be wavering slightly. ‘We will warn the footmen and coach drivers, so they’ll be on their guard for any attack.’
