‘Well, in truth, I can’t see that it would do any harm,’ Chastity responded. Ignoring her husband’s and stepdaughter’s glares, she took a seat. ‘If Mercedes is to have her season, as I see it, the more people surrounding her, the better. You won’t be able to accompany her wherever she goes, darling, and if Father is willing…’
‘I have a proposal,’ Mercy declared loudly in nothing like the reasonable tone she’d practised in front of the mirror earlier. As three sets of eyes looked at her enquiringly. She took a deep breath and explained…
***
Nate silently watched the Earl’s man taking notes while shaking his head at the state of the ceiling and looking pointedly at the bucket placed strategically on the floor. Without speaking, the man then started up the stairs, testing every tread with his foot. An ominous creaking sound accompanied more than one step, and Nate had to fight the urge to show the smug little toad out using the end of his foot.
Instead, the Viscount gritted his teeth and followed, half hoping the man would disappear through a convenient hole in the staircase.
When the Earl’s inspector had first arrived, Nate hadn’t known what to think. He’d half believed Cottesmore would get to the end of the overgrown drive and wash his hands of the whole affair.
But to his surprise, the very next day, a Mr. Jamison had arrived, offering him the worst thing possible - hope.
Since she’d left the day before, and despite repeatedly telling himself, he was completely addled, Nate had been unable to getMercedes Stanhope out of his mind. All the common sense in the world couldn’t smother his desperate urge to see her again, and he found himself concocting all kinds of increasingly outlandish scenarios where he and Duchess would ride to her rescue, sweep her up in his arms, and… Well, that’s where the fantasy got stuck. The most he could hope for was her friendship. But he told himself it was enough.
Just to see her again, talk to her and watch her animated face. That he was a fool, Nate had no doubt. A man didn’t fall in love with a woman after only two days, even if she represented everything he’d ever wanted.
A timely reminder of who and what he was, came from the top of the stairs. ‘Are you aware my lord, that you currently have a brace of pigeons nesting in your master bedchamber?’
No, he didn’t bloody know that, since the last time he’d stepped foot in the master bedchamber had been the day he received the key.
Grimacing, Nate forced the treacherous thoughts out of his head and went to have a look.
***
As Mercy finally stuttered to a halt, her audience was ominously silent, until at length, her father commented evenly that he hadn’t known she was possessed of such an imagination, or indeed inclined to such flights of fancy.
Her grandfather simply snorted and told her she was dicked in the nob to even consider enlisting the help of a man whose idea of etiquette was likely using a fork instead of his fingers. ‘And besides, who the devil is going to believe it.’
‘Since when has a pretty face been a prerequisite for an engagement?’ Chastity commented thoughtfully, echoing her husband’s earlier comments. ‘We know that Viscount Carlingford is purse pinched, but since he’s never appeared in public, no one else does. I’m certain thetoncould be persuaded with very little effort that he is as rich as Croesus and has simply been reclusive due to his terrible injury heroically received during the Battle of Waterloo.’
‘And how do you think Harding will take such a proposal,’ Christian quizzed her. ‘At the very least he will be making himself the subject of gossip.’
‘That as may be, but he will also benefit. If his house is as bad as you say, he’ll likely be without a roof over his head within the next couple of winters. This way, he has a chance to find a wealthy wife.’
‘I thought we were spreading the rumour of his vast wealth,’ her husband reminded her drily.
Chastity shrugged. ‘At the end of the day, he has a title.’
‘I think it’s a huge assumption to suppose Harding actually wants any assistance in finding a wife. We know nothing about him except that before he overheard the supposed plot to abduct Mercy, he was living his life and minding his own business. Now you’re looking to turn his life upside down. He’d be perfectly within his rights to accuse us of making a May game of him.’
Christian’s voice was hard and after a moment, Chastity nodded. ‘You’re right. I’m speaking of him as though he’s a child in need of guidance.’
Mercy bit her lip, knowing her father was right. It was all very well to decide that the Viscount could not help but benefit fromhis association with them, but he’d shunned the world of thetonfor many years. Why on earth would he consider putting himself in a position where he would most likely be ridiculed at the very least? Of course, her father was overlooking one simple factor.
In her heart of hearts, Mercy knew Nathaniel Harding would do it for her. She thought back to his face as he’d stared at her outside the sitting room. He was hers for the taking - she knew it right down to her very toes.
But did she want him? Could she risk trampling all over his heart, only to discover that the connection she thought was there didn’t exist back in the real world? And how would her father react if he knew what she was really thinking?
She became aware that her grandfather was speaking again. ‘Well, much as it pains me to admit it, if the fellow fought at Waterloo, he’d likely be useful in a fight.’
‘What about you, Mercedes?’ It was a second before Mercy realised her father was speaking to her. She looked at him silently, trying hard to suppress an inevitable blush. ‘Why are you so willing to put your life into a stranger’s hands?’
How could she say that the Viscount intrigued her more than any other man she’d ever met? That she wanted the opportunity to get to know him better, and this was the only way she could think of to do it? It was a mutton-headed plan at best. And completely selfish.
She opened her mouth to tell him to discard her idea - that she was being extremely foolish - but what came out instead was, ‘I trust him.’ And it was true, she did – she hadn’t hesitated to trust him with her life.
There was a silence, then Chastity sighed and gripped Mercy’s hand while addressing her next words to her husband. ‘All this conjecture is getting us nowhere. If you think the idea of enlisting Viscount Carlingford’s help has any merit at all, perhaps we should simply go ahead and ask him. It’s not as if he is unaware of the threat Reinhardt presents.’
