The Earl She Despised (London Season Matchmaker 3) - Page 21

Merry let out her breath slowly, feeling it shudder out of her. Her cheeks grew hot as she recalled what Lady Reid had said within her hearing. Most likely, it had been said in order to bring shame and embarrassment. Had it not been for Lord Weston’s determined and robust defense of her, perhaps that was what she would have felt. It had not been mortification that had warmed her cheeks then, but rather a gentle delight. He had spoken well of her, had made sure to defend her against the harsh words of Lady Reid, who had never once been introduced to Merry nor she to her. Why Lady Reid should care that Lord Weston had been speaking to Merry, she did not know, but it seemed that the lady wanted to make sure that Merry knew how little she thought of her.

‘If your answer is still as it was yesterday, then I must ask your permission to call upon you tomorrow afternoon, whereupon I propose a quiet walk in the park – or to any other place you wish to go. I look forward to your response at your earliest convenience.’

Closing the letter slowly, Merry allowed a small smile to catch her lips. She had her answer already formed in her mind, knowing precisely what it was she wanted and having no desire to do otherwise. Lord Weston had proven himself to be genuine in his yearning to show her that he was not the rude, arrogant gentleman that she believed him to be

at the first. He had accepted her own apology with good grace and, on top of which, Merry could not pretend that she herself did not have a desire to further her acquaintance with him. It was most peculiar to feel such a thing for a gentleman she had initially decided to dislike and certainly Merry would not allow herself to even admit such a thing to her sisters nor her cousin, but the desire was there at least. She could admit that to herself and found that she did not find such a desire to be in any way displeasing.

Getting up from her chair, and without a single word to Catherine, who was still sending questioning glances in her direction, Merry hurried to the writing desk in the corner of the room and sat down at once. Her words flowed quickly as she wrote, her hands trembling slightly as she sanded the letter and then folded it carefully. Once it was sealed, she rose and rang the bell, pacing up and down the room, as she waited for one of the maids to arrive. She did not look at Catherine nor at Dinah, who had come into the room with a book in her hand, looking for a quiet place to read. Once the maid had arrived, she handed the note to her with specific instructions that it was to be delivered at once.

“Goodness, Merry!” Catherine exclaimed, one eyebrow lifted in surprise. “You are certainly in a hurry. Whatever is it about?” A slightly hopeful look came into her eye. “Can it be that Lord Whitaker has–?”

“It is naught to do with Lord Whitaker,” Merry replied swiftly, for whilst the gentleman was attentive should they meet at a social gathering, he had not yet suggested that he call upon her as Lord Weston had done. Gathering her courage, she looked Catherine directly in the eye. “It is Lord Weston who has asked me to walk with him, Catherine; that is all.”

Catherine’s evident surprise grew all the more. “And you are eager to accept him?”

“I have already accepted him,” she replied, feeling a blush catch her cheeks. “But I pray that you do not begin to ask me many questions about the matter nor seek to know everything that I think and feel as regards him. All you need know is that I shall be stepping out with Lord Weston come the morrow.” She lifted her chin as her sister looked back at her, no smile on her lips.

“I shall not pry,” Catherine replied honestly. “You know that I care very little for matters of the heart.”

“And I shall pray for you,” Dinah added, opening her book. “That is all I shall do, and I certainly shall not ask you to explain why you are giving him another opportunity to impress himself upon you.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Although I cannot imagine that Titania and Lady Whitehaven will be as unobtrusive in their questions, Merry.”

Merry, a little surprised by Dinah’s response, began to nod slowly. “Lord Carroway came to call for them both so that they might have a picnic luncheon in the park,” she said, looking forward the door as though they might step through it at any moment. “Pray, I beg you both not to say a word of this affair to either of them. I shall speak to Mama about the matter, of course, but not in Titania’s hearing.”

Catherine’s lips quirked, knowing full well that Merry was simply trying to avoid Titania’s exuberance that would come from hearing that her sister was to go out walking with Lord Weston, even though she had thought as poorly of him as Merry had done at first. “Should you care to walk for a time, Merry?” she asked, suddenly rising to her feet. “It is a fine afternoon, and I have some parcels to take to a few families in town.”

Merry hesitated. “You are to give blankets and food to those who are struggling, are you not?” she asked, knowing Catherine’s tendency towards philanthropic work, which was a source of great frustration to Lady Whitehaven. “Does Mama know?”

Catherine blushed and looked away. “If I am to keep your secret, Merry, then mayhap you might think of keeping mine.” She shot a look towards Dinah, but their cousin was already slightly turned away from them, her nose in her book. “Yes, I have blankets and the like to give to those who struggle in despair and difficulty.”

“Where did you get the money to buy such things?”

Catherine’s blush deepened all the more. “Pin money is useless to me, Merry,” she told her sister, reminding Merry of the small stack of money that she had stored up in her bedchamber, having never had any desire to buy ribbons or the like. “So therefore, I have chosen to give it to others less fortunate.”

“I shall not chide you for that,” Merry replied fervently. “In fact, I shall ensure you have my pin money also for your endeavors, given that I have very little to spend it on.” She hesitated, then smiled. “Although I shall keep a little back so that I might purchase a new book from the bookshop, should you care to walk with me into town? I will be able to show it to Mama thereafter as evidence of why we chose to quit the house.”

A grateful look caught Catherine’s eye as she nodded. “That sounds wonderful,” she replied quickly. “I shall call the carriage and have it prepared. We shall be ready to leave within the hour.”

* * *

Some three hours later and Merry was exhausted. Catherine had practically filled the carriage with blankets and the like and, with the aid of the footmen who were with them, proceeded to hand out what she had to those in need. Having been required to step out of the carriage and walk into the dark, dank London streets, where the acrid smells burned her nostrils and the gloom of misery and poverty seemed to reach out and grasp at her sleeves, Merry had found herself both a little afraid for and in awe of her younger sister. Catherine showed no concern whatsoever, believing herself to be quite protected by the footmen who walked with them, carrying what Catherine had prepared. It had been quite astonishing to realize the depths to which some of London’s residents had fallen, and Merry’s heart had softened with the anguish of it all. When Catherine had, thereafter, taken her to a charitable house, where an older lady had greeted her sister as though she were an angel from Heaven, Catherine had given her the remainder of what she had brought and the lady had expressed her thanks over and over again, pressing Catherine’s hands as she did so.

Catherine’s gentle spirit and kind heart behooved her, and Merry felt herself grow in respect for her sister.

“You shall not say a word to Mama, I hope?”

Merry linked arms with her sister as they wandered up the London street towards the bookshop, the carriage waiting for them. “I shall say nothing,” she replied truthfully. “You do wonderfully well, Catherine. Your generous spirit and your concern for others makes me question my own heart.”

Catherine smiled softly, although there was no arrogance in her expression. “I believe God has given me a heart for the poor amongst us,” she replied quietly. “He does not give the same desire to all, and I should not expect you to do as I do, Merry.” She squeezed her sister’s arm gently. “You must find your own path.”

Merry sighed, feeling a slight heaviness to her heart. “At this present moment, Catherine, I find myself a trifle confused,” she said. “Lord Weston and I have both behaved in a rather poor fashion, and yet something about him draws me towards him.” She had not intended to speak so honestly to her sister, but now that she had begun, she could not prevent herself from continuing on. “He sought me out in order to explain something that I had misunderstood, and thereafter, defended me to another.”

“That speaks well of him,” Catherine replied. “Do you believe it to be genuine?”

It was a question that did not spring an immediate answer to Merry’s lips. She looked towards Catherine and bit her lip, wondering what it was she should say. “I want to believe that his kindness and his seeming keenness to call upon me again comes from his heart,” she replied slowly, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I find that I want to know him better, Catherine, which is not what I thought when I first met him.”

Catherine laughed softly as they drew near the bookshop. “Yes, he did make a very poor impression, did he not?” she asked, making Merry smile. “The only advice I should offer is that you ought to be careful with someone such as Lord Weston.” The smile left her face and a seriousness came into her eyes. “He is a rogue, Merry, and whether or not he is being one now is yet to be seen. A rogue is well known to be able to don any disguise that he wishes in order to gain victory over those young ladies he seeks to make his conquest.”

“I understand what you are saying,” Merry replied, finding that she wanted to defend Lord Weston but knowing that her sister was speaking words of wisdom. “I shall be careful.”

Tags: Lucy Adams London Season Matchmaker Historical
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