Page 48

Which was worse?

Again, another question, and entirely pointless at this juncture. At this moment, nothing was to be done, so further fretting was useless. Only the Good Lord knew what it all meant, and she’d simply have to trust Him.

Mercy ceased rubbing her temples and turned onto her side.

Ronan’s family was exactly as he’d described them. His father and stepmother epitomized genial nobility—regal, welcoming, and friendly, but not overly so. Perhaps a mite more cordial to the girls than Mercy, as was appropriate.

After all, she was a mere employee, no different than the dozens of others in their employ. Arabelle and Bellamy were their beloved middle son’s new wards and, Mercy supposed, after a fashion, proxy granddaughters.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mercy closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly as she mentally inventoried Ronan’s siblings. All were attractive—arrestingly so, truth be told—but that was where their similarities ended.

The largest and darkest in coloring of the brothers, Sanford, was severe to the point of moroseness. Benjamin was fairer than Ronan and cocksure, carefree, and confident.

Marissa, a pale blonde beauty with just a trace of baby fat, was sweet but inclined to dither on about frivolities. She could also be quite melodramatic. Such shallowness might be forgiven. She was only sixteen, after all.

Also possessing light blonde hair and pale, pale blue eyes, Corinna was every bit as gregarious and outspoken as Ronan had promised. From the keen interest in her avid gaze, she was dying to finish saying what her mother had succinctly cut off in the foyer.

Nonetheless, she held her tongue, though Mercy was positive that the instant she left the room, a chaotic discussion would erupt amongst the family.

About her. And the unknown duke of somewhere. Mustn’t forget him.

It unnerved her to no end. Just one more thing to add to the tangled knot of anxiety and insecurity that had become her life of late.

Still attired in her traveling costume—an unpretentious nut-brown affair—she glanced at the filagree bedside clock, atop of which perched two chubby birds.

Half-past nine.

Perhaps she ought to check on the girls one more time before retiring herself.

In point of fact, this was their first night in their new home.

Mercy had eaten a delicious dinner of ham, seasoned potatoes, peas and carrots, followed by a scrumptious treacle with Bellamy and Arabelle. After their baths, she’d read a chapter from Gulliver’s Travels.

Both girls loved stories about traveling to exotic places. Their father had enjoyed nothing better than sharing fabulous tales about his adventures as an officer in the navy.

Mercy thought perhaps their next book might be Robinson Crusoe or The Travels of Marco Polo, or mayhap even Don Quixote or The Adventures of Roderick Random—although the girls might be a tad young for the latter two novels.

Inhaling a lungful of air, she levered upright, pleased when her head didn’t topple from her neck and roll across the carpet.

There.

That wasn’t so bad.

The intolerable pounding had subsided to an annoying cadence behind her left eye.

She would check on the girls and then return to her chamber and bathe.

To her surprise, the housekeeper, Mrs. Webber, insisted a bath be prepared for Mercy after the family’s. Mrs. Webber had apologized as she showed Mercy to her chambers two doors down from the nursery. “I regret it will likely be ten of the clock, Miss Feathers.”

Honestly, Mercy disliked inconveniencing the staff.

“I’d be perfectly content with a basin and a pitcher of warm water, Mrs. Webber,” Mercy had said. Although a bath sounded heavenly, waiting until ten to indulge did not. Not only was she exhausted from the journey, but Bellamy and Arabelle were also early risers. They rarely slept past the stroke of six.

Mrs. Webber shook her head so vehemently that the chatelaine at the housekeeper’s waist jangled. “None of that. Lord Ronan gave the direction himself. I could not defy him.”

He had?

“His lordship insisted you’d be sore after the journey,” Mrs. Webber put in with a benevolent smile.