The Scandalous Lady Mercy by Maggi Andersen

Author:Maggi Andersen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: MAGGI ANDERSEN
Published: 2016-12-21T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“YOU DID NOT advise me of your engagement, Northcliffe,” Alethea said in a hurt tone. “I had to hear it from Margery Wheatcroft, and she positively gloated.”

She’d waylaid him in the corridor leading to the Neville’s reception rooms where tables had been set up for the evening card games.

Grant had no intention of seeking Alethea’s approval. He resisted reminding her that it had never been his practice. She’d brought scandal down on their heads by being indiscreet, but neither did he wish to point that out. He’d heard she’d suffered another slight, when a wealthy baron had rebuffed her. She was hurt and he was sorry for it. “You must get on with your life, my dear.”

She pouted. “Mercy Baxendale is a mere chit of a girl, Northcliffe. I expected better of you.”

“Alethea, I don’t intend to discuss this.”

After Mercy arrived, he wished to speak to her before the card games began. He put his hands on his former mistress’ arms and moved her gently aside.

Three young women entered the corridor leading from the entry. Mercy, with two debutantes, giggling at something, looked up and saw him. Grant dropped his arms as they came to a halt, watching Alethea disappear into the drawing room.

Mercy advanced toward him followed by the other two young ladies. “Good evening, my lord.” She sank into a curtsey. Her companions followed suit, their cheeks flushed and eyelashes lowered.

“Good evening, ladies. Are you playing cards tonight?”

The brunette whose name escaped him, tittered. “I do not have a head for cards, my lord.”

“There might be something on offer to temp you, silver-loo, perhaps.” Grant bowed. “You must excuse me; I’m promised for a game of faro. I shall seek your company a little later, Lady Mercy.”

“I shall look forward to it, my lord.”

The expression in Mercy’s eyes stayed with him as he took his leave. Was it hurt, disappointment, or suspicion?

He sighed. There was nothing he could say in his defense, and dammit, he had nothing to apologize for. Yet the thought that his relationship with his intended had taken a backward step niggled.

* * *

“Honor!” Mercy rushed forward to embrace her half-sister.

Honor so seldom came to London, because she disliked leaving her young son, Lucas, and the farm. But she had come to Town with her husband, Edward, who had just been elevated to an exalted position in the law. Elegant in her magenta silk gown trimmed with black braid, and looking young for a mother of thirty years, she returned the embrace.

“How is young Lucas?”

Honor’s expression softened. “He is such a lively child!”

“Where is Edward?”

“He’s talking to a fusty group of legal men.” Honor grinned and shook Mercy’s hands. “But look at you! Our youngest and most unruly sister has become a lovely debutante. I came tonight specially to see you. We haven’t spoken since your engagement.”

Mercy gazed into her half-sister’s calm brown eyes. Honor had become her heroine when she’d triumphed over adversity and married the man she loved against Father’s wishes. Mercy grinned.

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