Chapter Thirteen
Kate climbed outof the carriage at her front door, her legs leaden. She’d had to hold a pose for hours, while she stood with a hand resting on a table, the shawl draped over her arms with only a break for a cup of tea. Sir Thomas had not wished her to wear jewels, just a black ribbon tied around her throat. He’d barely stopped to rest. She wondered how a man of his advanced years came to have such energy. He seemed pleased with how the painting was developing, although he wouldn’t allow her to see it until it was finished.
The butler stood waiting at the door. “Good afternoon, Hove,” she said wearily.
“My lady.” He took her redingote and bonnet. “There’s a young lady waiting to see you. I put her in the salon.”
“Oh? Who is it?”
“A Miss Hargrove. Says she’s one of the Charlesworths, my lady.”
“Really? I’ve not met her.”
“No, my lady.” Hove’s face took on an uncertain expression. “I didn’t like to turn her away, being a relative of his lordship’s.”
“You acted quite rightly, Hove.”
Curious as to what this person would want with her, Kate drew in a tired breath and climbed the stairs to the salon. When she walked through the door, Kate found a young woman barely out of the schoolroom.
With a fetching smile, she bounced up off the sofa and fell into a graceful curtsey. “I’m Merry Hargrove, Lady St. Malin. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you from my cousins.”
“Please do sit Miss Hargrove.” Kate doubted this young lady had heard any such thing. “Do I know your cousins? Who are they?”
“Why that’s Clare and her brother, Frederick. Lord Charlesworth is my uncle. He is married to Robert’s mother.”
“Now I understand. Please call me Kate, and I shall call you Merry. Such a pretty name! I’m sorely in need of a cup of tea. Will you join me?”
Merry sat close to Kate on the sofa. “I traveled all the way from Bath on the stage,” she announced dramatically, her gleam of triumph tempered by a quivering lip. “It was horrid. I sat next to a man who smelled of cabbage.”
“You came all the way unescorted?”
“Indeed!”
“But why?”
Merry clasped her hands together. “To ask for your help.”
Kate eyes widened. “Whatever is the matter? And how can I help?”
“You and Robert can advise me.”
A headache began to thrum at Kate’s temples. “How, Merry?”
Tears flooded Merry’s pansy-brown eyes spilling onto her smooth cheeks. “My father plans to marry me off, as soon as I turn eighteen.”
“Really? And when is that?”
“November next.”
“You dislike this man?”
“He is not a bad man,” Merry said, hesitantly. She shrugged as if unable to explain further.
It was difficult to discern quite what troubled Merry. To Kate’s relief, a servant entered with the tray. “A cup will make you feel much more the thing, and then you can tell me all about it.” It was not her place to advise Merry, but Kate did sympathize with the young woman. Arranged marriages could be cruel.
The young woman gave a watery smile and sniffed. “I knew I would like you.”
Merry would not have learned much about her, beyond Kate’s brief visit to Robert’s mother. She was a sweet-faced, pretty girl in her simple cream linen round gown, her brown hair fashionably arranged, with curls on her forehead. And so young and distressed that Kate’s compassionate heart went out to her. With an encouraging smile, she poured the tea. “Cream or lemon?”
