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“Tut tut. None of that,” the marchioness admonished gently. “Rachael and Arthur will suffice for now.” Another glance passed between her and her husband. “We would be beyond pleased if you called us Mother and Father after your vows are exchanged, unless you wish to begin doing so now.”

Tears stung Mercy’s eyes.

“Thank you.” Ronan’s tenor was suspiciously husky as he squeezed her fingers and then entwined them with his.

This was a far warmer acceptance than she’d anticipated. She ought to have trusted Ronan when he assured her his parents, unlike his older brother, didn’t care more about social status or position than they did love.

“The Countess of Amhurst,” Sturges announced a moment before an elegant woman in a sage green gown of the first tulip of fashion glided into the room.

Ronan and the marquess rose as one.

“Oh my.” She came to an abrupt stop several feet inside, her face going pale as chalk. “Oh my,” she said again, staring unblinkingly at Mercy.

A soft rush of air whooshed through Mercy’s parted lips as she slowly stood.

“Good heavens.” Rachael looked back and forth between Lady Amhurst and Mercy several times. “The likeness is nothing short of astonishing.”

“As if I’m looking into a mirror many years ago,” Lady Amhurst managed with a shaky smile.

She came forward then, her hands outstretched.

“Mercy,” she said simply.

And then Mercy was in her arms, weeping and laughing and trying to talk. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room, not even Sturges, who surreptitiously dabbed at the corner of one eye as he replaced the silver teapot with a fresh pot of tea.

The next several hours passed in a blur.

The four girls came home and were introduced.

Adelhied was invited to stay for dinner, which she eagerly accepted.

Afterward, everyone except Sanford, Bellamy, and Arabelle gathered in the drawing room. Mercy covertly eyed the clock. At half of eight, she said, “Please excuse me for a few moments so that I can tuck the girls in. They sleep better if I do.”

Adelhied looked slightly startled but regained her composure with practiced swiftness. “Of course, my dear. It is time I took my leave in any event. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a great deal of one another these next few days until arrangements can be made for you to come and live with me.”

Mercy jerked in surprise.

What?

She hadn’t considered her mother would expect her to move in with her. She also didn’t know Mercy and Ronan were betrothed.

“Arthur, let’s give them a few moments alone, shall we?” Rachael suggested with the astuteness of an observant woman who wasn’t really giving her husband a choice. “It has been an absolute delight, Lady Amhurst.”

Arthur bowed. “Good evening. Please call again soon. We are delighted at this turn of events.”

“As am I.” Smiling, Adelhied speared Mercy a warm glance.

Arm in arm, the Trentholms left the room. At the door, Rachael turned and gave Ronan an are-you-coming look.

He crooked an eyebrow and flashed one of his engaging smiles as he mouthed, “Go along.”

“Your ladyship,” Mercy began.

“Please, my dear. I know it is too soon to ask you to call me Mother, but mightn’t you at least use my given name?” Adelhied asked, her gaze sweeping lovingly over Mercy.

“I should like that,” Mercy said. “Mother?” she tried the unfamiliar word upon her tongue.

Her mother beamed. “Yes, dearest?”