Jo Goodman (19 page)

She turned and realized she was alone.

* * *

The evening meal was served in the family dining room. It had been years since the manor's cook prepared anything but plain fare. On the occasions when the earl had guests he brought in the cook he employed at his London townhouse.

In the earl's absence, Mercedes took the seat at the head of the table. Britton and Brendan sat on either side of her with Aubrey and Colin next to them. Sylvia, she noticed, took pains to have Aubrey's escort into the dining room and therefore was able to have the chair beside him. Chloe sat opposite her sister, on Colin's right, and competed with Sylvia to see who could be the most charming. Even the twins came to the table politely subdued. Mercedes could only imagine that this rather remarkable display of good manners was to make up for locking their guests in the turret room. At any given moment she could glance up and catch one of her cousins looking a bit chagrined.

Mercedes wished she had given some thought to the menu. By the time it was clear to her that Colin and Aubrey were staying for dinner, it was too late. Not that there was anything wrong with beef and potatoes, but Cook's roasted fare was always on the well done side. Mercedes noticed, however, that everyone ate their fill. In the case of Mr. Jones, double that. The bread was fresh and warm and the carrots and onions still retained some of their natural flavor. The twins were delighted to discover there was custard for dessert.

Mercedes spoke little during dinner. There was enough conversation going on that she felt no need to contribute. When a comment or question was directed to her she responded, but it was an effort to stay with the topic at hand. Britton and Brendan were eager to know about the workings of the clipper ships, and in other circumstances she would have found Aubrey's colorful discourse as fascinating as everyone else, but this evening she could only think of what lay ahead for her and her cousins. Nothing about their future was settled. On the morrow she would have to deal with Severn and his demands while contending with the earl's disappearance.

The only bright spot Mercedes could see was that Colin Thorne and his second would be gone from Weybourne Park. Upon her return from the gardens, Mrs. Hennepin informed her that Mr. Jones had arranged for his mount to be readied and his belongings secured. Mercedes doubted she could have made it through the meal if she hadn't been assured the Americans were leaving, not when she still burned with humiliation. She counted it as a success of sorts that she was even able to sit at the same table with Colin Thorne, though she expertly avoided making eye contact. She did not need to see herself reflected in his dark glance to recall every humbling moment of their last encounter.

At the end of the meal Mercedes politely offered her guests drinks while excusing herself and her cousins from their company. She waited until she had reached the far end of the hallway before she rounded on them. Her voice was quite deliberately a harsh whisper that would not carry back to the dining room. "It's all very well for you to be civil to our guests, but have all of you forgotten why they're here in the first place?"

The twins exchanged sheepish glances with Sylvia and Chloe. The cheeks of the young women flushed.

"All of you are acting as if there's nothing wrong," she said. Mercedes hadn't meant to share the burden she was carrying with them. There was nothing to be gained by distributing the weight of her worries to those who couldn't lift them anyway. She closed her eyes briefly and placed four fingers against her throbbing temple and rubbed. Her fingertips were a counter pressure to the ache building inside her head. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "It's not your fault. I'll think of something." Mercedes turned to go, placing her hand on the newel post at the base of the staircase. She had gone only one step when she was halted by Britton's earnest voice.

"We don't miss him," he said. "If that's why you think we should be sad, we can't."

Brendan chimed in as Mercedes turned to face the quartet. "We've already talked about it."

Mercedes looked to Chloe. "You've talked about it?"

"We've talked about little else," she said. "And we think—"

"It's better that he's run off," Sylvia finished for her.

It was Britton's turn again. "We don't mind losing Weybourne Park to Captain Thorne."

Mercedes's beautifully drawn brows arched at this comment. "You don't mind..." Her voice trailed off as she realized how little any one of them understood their predicament.

"He's won the wager," Brendan said simply. "This will be his home now though I don't think he should change the name. It's always been Weybourne Park."

Chloe patted her younger brother on the head, silencing him as he tried to wriggle out from under this attention. "We didn't realize at first that the captain meant for us to stay here. In my case, at least until I marry Mr. Fredrick."

"And the rest of us for as long as we like," Britton said.

Sylvia rested her hand on his shoulder, quieting him. "The twins will still go off to school. There's to be money for that." She flushed a little as she added, "And I shouldn't wonder that I'll find a suitable partner."

"I shouldn't wonder," Mercedes said slowly. She felt as though she were adrift on a turbulent sea. Each one of her cousins, from the safety of their own boat, was extending her some life-saving device and she was too stupid to comprehend its purpose or reach for it. In another moment she was going to drown.

"It will only be left to find someone for you," Chloe said. "But you needn't worry that the captain will make you seek other employment. We told him we couldn't possibly stay without you."

Mercedes surrendered to legs that were already wobbly and slowly lowered herself to sit on the stairs. Her hand drifted along the banister spindle until it, too, was beside her. To hear these words from Chloe who had looked to her for guidance the day before, was beyond any of Mercedes's expectations. To hear them in the context of all that had come before was the outside of enough. "You
told
him?" she asked, disbelieving. "You've had a discussion with Captain Thorne about my future?"

"About
our
future," Sylvia said, coming to her sister's rescue.

"The future of all of us. There's no getting around that we depend on one another and that mostly we've depended on you."

Chloe nodded. A tendril of pale hair fell over her forehead and she blew it away impatiently. "You didn't expect us to be comfortably settled by the captain's promises and not think of you?"

"The captain's promises..." she said on a thread of sound.

Britton giggled. "I say, Mercedes, you're just like that parrot Mr. Jones was telling us about at dinner."

"A parrot," she said dully, her face drained of every vestige of color. It was the second time today she'd been compared to that bird. "Yes, I suppose I am." Mercedes heard her own voice and realized how she must look to them. The bright expectancy in their faces was fading as they realized she was sharing none of their views. She took pains to force a smile. "I think it would be best if you'd retire to your rooms. I'll speak to the captain and hear these promises for myself." She noticed this statement did nothing to relieve their consternation.

Sylvia's pale brows had drawn together. "Oh, you're not going to ruin it for us, are you? Please say you won't."

"It's not as if it's charity," Britton said. "Well, not
exactly
charity."

"You mustn't be all stiff-necked about it," said Brendan.

Mercedes watched his glance stray to Chloe, and she knew where he'd first heard the phrase. It was clear the four of them had spent a great deal of time discussing it. But when? she wondered. Had Colin Thorne already filled their heads with the way things might be before they locked him in the turret? That didn't seem likely. There only remained one other time when he might have spoken to them outside of her presence, and that was after he left her at the arbor.

Mercedes had been deliberately slow to return to the house, and when she finally arrived, she immediately went to her room to change for dinner. Now that she reflected on it, the north wing bedrooms had been suspiciously quiet and when dinner was announced, she was the first to arrive. The others, including Aubrey Jones and Colin Thorne, came
en masse
from the conservatory.

She had thought her cousins were showing Colin the indoor gardens, and perhaps he was sharing a bit of botanical knowledge with them. In retrospect, she doubted there had been any conversations about the hothouse orchids.

"I'll speak to the captain," she said again, trying not to sound too stiff-necked.

Perforce, they had to accept it. Chloe took Brendan's hand in hers and led him past Mercedes up the stairs, Sylvia followed with Britton in tow. The looks they cast in her direction were alternately pleading and concerned. None of them could catch her eye. To a person they all recognized her withdrawal.

Mercedes was still sitting on the staircase when the doors to the dining room parted and Colin and Aubrey exited. She rose to her feet as they approached the wide entrance hall.

"Miss Leyden," Aubrey greeted her. "We were just on our way to the drawing room to find you. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality."

Even standing on the first step, Mercedes was still not eye to eye with the red-headed giant, yet she was not at all uncomfortable looking up at him. "It's kind of you to say so, Mr. Jones. You're rather generous to offer thanks in the aftermath of your confinement in the north turret."

He shrugged that off. "The truth of it is, ma'am, that it gave me seven winks. I didn't pass a restful night at the inn."

Not knowing the reasons for his lack of sleep at the Passing Fancy, Mercedes was politely solicitous. She murmured all the proper things and wished him well on his journey back to London and then to Boston.

Unused to so much gracious attention, Aubrey shuffled a little uncomfortably. He couldn't know that she was immediately put in mind of the twins who would have also chafed at her concern. He made a brief nod, signaling his intention to go. "I'll only catch the coach at the inn if I leave now," he said.

"Yes, of course, I didn't mean to delay your departure." All she had meant to do was avoid speaking to Colin. In spite of what she told her cousins, Mercedes didn't think she could speak to the captain this evening. Or any other evening. It occurred to her as she sat alone on the stairs, that a letter would better suit her purpose. She could address her concerns with more thoughtfulness and not be distracted by anything he might say. "Good evening, then. To both of you."

It was only when she saw the look that passed from Aubrey to his captain that she knew she had mistaken the matter.

"Good evening," Aubrey said.

Colin's flat statement came simultaneously. "I'm not leaving."

Aubrey's widely spaced green eyes darted from his hostess to his master and he realized his presence was superfluous. In spite of his large size he managed to slip away unnoticed.

Mercedes was glad for the banister's support. Although she hadn't been able to face Aubrey squarely on this same step, she was almost eye to eye with Colin. "What do you mean you're not leaving? How can that be?" She immediately regretted the questions because she didn't care about the answers. Mercedes simply wanted him gone.

"Do you really want to stand here and discuss it?" Colin asked calmly. His eyes strayed with significant intent to the top of the stairs.

Mercedes followed his gaze behind her. She was quick enough to spy the tousled head of one of the twins though she couldn't say whether it was Britton or Brendan. It didn't really matter. Where one was, the other was lurking. Turning back to Colin, she said, "The library?" Again, she wondered at the question in her own voice, as if she were already deferring to him as lord of the manor.

"That will be fine."

Colin stepped aside to allow Mercedes to precede him. She had exchanged her plain gray gown for summery blue silk and the material, accented by the hallway's candlelight, shimmered as she moved. Like her day dress, this gown's neckline was cut high, showing off the slender length of her throat without revealing the livid weal arced around it.

Once inside the library, Mercedes lighted several candles on the narrow side table and the lamp on the earl's desk. She did not sit down, preferring to keep her disadvantages to a minimum. "So you can have no excuse for missing the London stage," she told him, "I'll keep my comments brief."

Colin realized that somewhere between the grand staircase and the library doors, Mercedes Leyden had found her voice. He nodded once, as if in agreement, and allowed her to have her say.

"I can only guess at what nonsense you filled my cousins with," she said. "They're of the singular opinion that you've won the wager for Weybourne Park and that you mean to accept it. They don't seem to view the earl's absence as a bad thing, though none of them are aware of Severn's alternate view of their father's disappearance. Further, they've got it in their heads that you mean to support them until such time they can fend for themselves. In the case of the twins that's a commitment of at least ten years, though I doubt they realize it."

Colin had eased himself into the chair behind the desk, picked up the letter opener, and leaned back. He turned it over absently in his palm as he listened to Mercedes. When she paused for a breath he looked up, his expression thoughtful. "Are you quite finished?" he asked after a moment.