As she walked to the door, Mr. Foster moved quickly to Merry’s side. “Merry, if I’ve driven you from your home, I am inexpressibly sorry. It was wrong of me to speak to you so harshly. I must confess to suffering jealousy when you encouraged that scoundrel…”
“Armand is not a scoundrel.”
“Armand is it? No gentleman allows a young lady of your breeding to call him by his given name.”
Kate closed the door, hoping that Mr. Foster would discover the best way to appeal to Merry. He was not as dashingly handsome as Armand, but she liked the unaffected honesty in his gray eyes. She hoped he would not try to press Merry but would allow her to come to the right decision on her own. She was flighty, but that was because she was not yet eighteen. Imprudent, perhaps, but not stupid by any means.
Kate encountered Robert in the corridor walking toward the salon. “Don’t go in just yet,” she said, gesturing to the closed door.
His eyebrows rose. “Why not?”
“Mr. Foster has come to see Merry.”
Robert frowned. “Who the devil is Mr. Foster?”
“The man her father hopes she’ll marry.”
“And you left them alone?”
“I thought it best to give them a moment together to sort out their differences.”
He stepped around her. “Well, I don’t.”
She took hold of his arm. Conscious of his strength and his proximity, she hastily removed her hand. “Can we go to the library? I wish to talk to you.”
He nodded toward the salon door. “But what about…?”
“Let them be, Robert. What can happen in our salon?” She flushed, recalling their moment of passion in that room.
He paused, studying her face. “I suppose a few moments can’t hurt.”
When they reached the library, he swiveled to face her. “What is it, Kate?”
She told him about Armand and the episode in the park as the appearance of Mr. Foster cast a new perspective on the situation.
His brows snapped together so fiercely her stomach tightened in alarm. “You didn’t see fit to tell me this earlier?”
“Knowing your temper…”
“I don’t have a temper,” he said in a raised voice, every line of his body taut as a pianoforte wire.
“You don’t?” She glared at him, ready to fight him for Merry’s happiness. If clumsily dealt with, this affair could all go horribly wrong.
“No,” he added lowering his voice.
She sighed. “It seems prudent to allow Mr. Foster his say. Let nature take its course.”
“And if that course is for Merry to run away with this vagabond… Armand De Ville?”
“If she meant to elope with him, she would’ve done so. Why come to us in London where she had even less freedom?”
Robert leaned against the back of the leather chesterfield and crossed his arms. He studied her silently. “You believe anything Merry does makes sense?”
“Yes. Unconsciously perhaps.” Under his scrutiny Kate’s pulse thudded. “I suspect she never planned to marry Armand. She wants to marry Mr. Foster.”
Exasperated, Robert ran both hands through his hair. “Then why the devil didn’t she agree to the marriage?”
She held his gaze. “Sometimes women need a little encouragement. They need to know that a man loves them.”
