Jo Goodman (22 page)

"Do you have one?"

"No."

"No one?" It seemed incredible to her. Even she had cousins. "How can there be no one?"

"Because there's not." He relented a bit when he saw her thoughtful frown. She was sincerely troubled by this piece of news. "Not family, not the way you mean."

Mercedes realized she would have to be satisfied with that. For now. It hardly made any sense to her. A wide, childish yawn took her off guard. It was the first inkling she had that she was finally tiring. She picked up her candle and had to stifle another yawn. "Good night, Captain Thorne."

He let her get halfway across the portico before he said, "Lock your door, Mercedes."

* * *

In her dream it was the steady pounding of waves against the rocks that made her cover her ears. It was only when there was no abatement in the incessant, intrusive rhythms that Mercedes woke up. Groaning softly, she turned on her side and opened bleary eyes. She saw the door shudder in its frame and finally recognized the source of the noise.

The fact that there was knocking at all was a novelty. The twins seldom bothered to be so polite, no matter how often she admonished them to the contrary. It was unusual for Sylvia or Chloe to come to her room and Mrs. Hennepin and the maids announced their intention to enter with more of a scratching sound. The tempo of the pounding changed suddenly and became a staccato rat-a-tat-tat. The quickness of the beat led her to believe there was more than one pair of hands at work.

"Come in, Britton!" she called. "You too, Brendan. But softly, please." She lay back and waited for the onslaught. The door rattled but didn't open. From the firmness of the vibration Mercedes suspected this had been tried before. It wasn't until Brendan complained that it was still locked that she remembered Colin's parting warning and her decision to take him at his word. "Just a moment."

Mercedes slid out of bed. Her robe was lying over the arm of the chair and she picked it up, shrugging into it just before she let the boys in.

"Why did you lock it?" Britton wanted to know.

Mercedes noticed he was looking around guardedly as if he expected to find someone hiding.

Brendan boldly asked what his brother was only thinking. "Is it the earl? Has he come back to make trouble for us?"

That gave Mercedes pause. "The earl?" she asked sleepily. "Don't you mean Captain Thorne?"

Britton's suspicious expression vanished. "Oh," he said happily. "Is the captain in here, then? Severn's looking for both of you."

"Severn's here already?" Mercedes put a hand to her temple as the boys barreled into the room. They jumped on the bed in unison as if they hoped to dislodge Colin Thorne from beneath it. "There's no one under there," Mercedes said, glancing at the mantel clock. It was gone ten. She leaned against the door and continued to rub her temple. It was as though the boys' pounding had been transferred to her head. Their bouncing on the bed didn't help. She held up her hand and they stopped immediately, forgoing even one last rebellious rebound. They collapsed so dramatically the bed frame shook.

"Have you had breakfast?" she asked.

"Hours ago," said Brendan.

"Hours and hours ago," his brother echoed.

"Sylvia? Chloe?"

"They ate with us," Britton said.

Brendan nodded. "Now they're entertaining Severn in the drawing room. He said we should get you but we were going to do that anyway."

"That was very good of you," she told them. "Tell him I'm on my way and stay with your sisters until I get there."

Brendan pulled a face and his brother mirrored his distaste. "He doesn't like us underfoot," said Brendan.

Mercedes merely smiled. "When has that ever stopped you two?" Indeed, annoying Severn was one of their most enjoyable pastimes. "Now go." She stepped aside to open the door and usher them out.

They jumped off the bed and gave her cheeky, dimpled grins as they scampered past.

She had no time to feel sorry for Severn even if she were so inclined. Mercedes washed quickly and purposely chose a floral print dress to wear. Severn could not possibly mistake it for mourning attire. She brushed out her hair and plaited it quickly in a French braid, then tied it off with a spring-green ribbon that matched the tiny leaves in her gown. She pinched her cheeks to lend them the color they'd lost when she realized Severn was in the house. For extra measure she pressed her teeth against her lips until they reddened satisfactorily. At the entrance to the drawing room she secured her mouth in its most gracious smile.

"My lord," she said, as she walked into the room. "My apologies for keeping you waiting. Chloe? Did you offer his lordship tea?"

Chloe nodded. Perched on the edge of the divan as she was, she made no secret of the fact that she wished herself elsewhere. Sylvia was beside her, similarly postured. Their eyes strayed in unison toward the heavy drapes.

The gesture was so lacking in subtlety that Mercedes marveled that Severn missed it. She supposed it was her own entry into the room that pulled his attention away from the girls and for that she was thankful. Chloe and Sylvia would not have forgiven themselves, or been forgiven, for spoiling the twins' fun. The two pairs of shoes peeking out from under the drapes were warning enough of how they planned to bedevil Severn this time.

A breeze eddied through the open window, shifting the drapes enough to reveal their ankles, and they decided it was time to strike. Jumping out from their hiding places, they screamed like banshees before they bolted for the door. Even prepared as she was, Mercedes gave a start. Chloe and Sylvia were moved to high-pitched giggles as much from relief as from surprise, while Severn actually came out of his chair with a cry. When he realized that he had been the target of the rear attack, his face flushed and his mouth thinned.

Mercedes motioned to the girls to leave quickly then she shut the door so he couldn't follow the boys easily. She rushed to placate him. "I shall punish them myself, Severn. I asked them to tell you that I was on my way, so you see, it's me they were disobeying. I never know what tricks they'll get up to."

"They're brats," Severn said tightly, his eyes still focused on the door.

"They're high spirited."

"They need a good caning."

Mercedes almost flinched at the suggestion. When her uncle wanted to mete out disciplined punishment, caning was the method he used. The boys already had stripes on their buttocks. Mercedes was only glad that the earl didn't often have the patience to manage it and could be goaded into using the flat of his hand or his fists before he found the cane. "I'll take care of the boys," she said again.

"You'll coddle them. Weybourne says you always do."

Mercedes took the opening Severn gave her. "You're speaking in the present tense," she said. "You've seen my uncle then?"

"A slip of the tongue, nothing more." Severn motioned to Mercedes to sit. Before he lowered himself into his chair he made a point of closing the window. He'd be damned before giving the twins another opportunity to make him the fool. "I have forty men with me this morning covering Weybourne Park."

"You're not joining the search?"

"My time is better spent here, with you. I hope you can be made to see reason."

Mercedes impressed herself by remaining calm. Statements to the effect that she was the one being unreasonable almost always got a rise from her. "Is that right?" she asked.

Severn was on his feet again, this time pacing the floor with slow deliberation. He paused only when he addressed her. "I suppose you imagine that you'll be permitted to remain here at Weybourne Park," he said. "Have you asked yourself in what capacity you may serve?"

She simply stared at him, her clear gray eyes widening only marginally.

"You would be better off agreeing to come with me," Severn went on. "I'll see that the twins are placed in school and the girls have a proper dowry. I'll set you up in London, Mercedes, or the lodge at Rosefield if you prefer. You may choose the location and furnish the house to your liking. I'll see that you have a full complement of servants to manage it. You will finally be able to spend your days without worrying about finances and crops and tenants and... and whatever else it is that occupies your time at Weybourne Park."

Mercedes smiled politely. "You make it sound liberating, Severn."

"I'm certain you would find it so."

She went on as if he hadn't spoken. "But I'm unclear as to what would occupy my time if I had none of my usual concerns."

Severn paused again, this time taking full measure of Mercedes, gauging her sincerity. Color suffused his defined cheeks as he realized she was having him on. His mouth thinned and his narrow jaw tightened. The stare he leveled at her was cold. "I see you wish me to state it plainly," he said. "Very well, Mercedes. You will have enough to occupy you in my bed."

"Your bed? But I thought the house was mine. Surely that would make it
my
bed and give me the right to decide who I would entertain there. That is what you're suggesting, isn't it, my lord? That in exchange for the boys' schooling and the girls' dowries, I'll open my legs for you?"

Severn's eyes narrowed. "Weybourne didn't beat you often enough."

Mercedes heard the thinly disguised threat in his tight voice. Clearly it was a circumstance he meant to rectify. She could not help the shudder that went through her.

One of Severn's dark brows arched approvingly. "I see you understand," he said coolly.

Mercedes didn't respond. She watched him walk to the fireplace and stand on the green-veined marble apron. He raised one arm and let his elbow rest casually on the mantel. Mercedes recognized it as a practiced pose, one that he knew showed off his trim figure to its best advantage and made him seem more careless than he was.

Severn regarded her closely. "Are you really so eager to crawl into the Yankee captain's bed?"

"I haven't been asked," she said calmly. There was a tightening in her abdomen as she saw Severn's fist clench. With almost detached curiosity, as if she might not be his intended victim, she wondered how much damage he could inflict with that fist. Mercedes knew he boxed at his club. Did that make him more skillful with his blows than the earl, or was he just as viciously ham-handed? "Is this your idea of making me see reason?" she asked. "That I should believe your offer is somehow more sensible than the one Captain Thorne has yet to make? Don't bother answering. I can see for myself that it is. I'm only confused as to why you think I'd accept."

"What else will you do?" he demanded. "Take up employment as a governess? What about the twins? You may find a position for yourself but no one will allow you to have the boys around. It
is
reasonable that I take up the responsibility of your care and welfare. After all, we're cousins, distantly related, to be sure, but blood nonetheless. Thorne may have rights to this property but he won't get the title. That will be mine someday."

A small vertical crease appeared between Mercedes's brow. "It sounds as though you've talked to the captain already."

"Of course I've talked to him," Severn said impatiently. "Not above an hour ago at the Passing Fancy."

"At the Passing Fancy," Mercedes repeated softly. She should have known. She wondered if he had spent any part of the night at Weybourne Park or if he ever had planned to. His parting comment that she should lock her door had been intended only to get a rise out of her. Now, knowing that he'd meant to nettle her, Mercedes wished she hadn't followed his advice. "Yes," she said. "I'd forgotten. You questioned him, then?"

"I had the sheriff with me. Mr. Patterson asked the majority of the questions."

"And?"

"And Thorne had a solicitor there to assist him with the answers." There was something faintly accusatory in Severn's tone. "You must have told him more than was good. He was very prepared for the meeting. He'd sent his second to London to fetch his man of affairs."

"I had to tell him something," she said. "You didn't want him to leave the area."

Severn dismissed her defense with a wave of his hand. "It seems that Thorne can make a decent account of himself on the night before the duel. The innkeeper supports his story that he had a woman in his room. The whore herself came forward to admit it." Had Severn not been distracted by a movement outside the window, he would have seen that Mercedes had blanched. "Damn," he swore softly. "He's coming now."

Mercedes twisted in her seat and followed the direction of Severn's glance. "Captain Thorne? He's here?"

Severn's mouth twisted. "You needn't sound quite so eager, Mercedes."

She came to her feet. "I'm not eager," she said. "You were so certain that he'd be charged with a crime, I confess I'm relieved that it hasn't happened. If I truly believed my uncle had been murdered, I'd feel differently, but it appears even the sheriff is not accepting your theory without the proof of a body."

Severn held his response. Beyond the drawing room they could hear Mrs. Hennepin greeting Colin and directing him to where he would find Mercedes and the viscount. Only seconds passed before the doors parted.

"Miss Leyden," Colin said politely, nodding in Mercedes's direction. His acknowledgement of her guest was considerably less warm. "Severn. Somehow I'm not surprised that you're here in spite of what you heard this morning. Though I expected you'd be dredging the pond for the earl, not making small talk with his niece."