Chapter 1 #2
Instead of shaking in horror at his words, her expression challenged him. “Is that so? Are you implying that his intentions toward me are not honourable?”
“How could I know what his intentions are? I can only speak with a surety that Tremaine only does what benefits him.”
He made the mistake of looking her in the eye. Those green eyes had deepened to emerald and were shooting daggers at him. “You think he only wants my fortune.” It was not a question.
Joshua was certain of that, but Merry was also beautiful. Yet the aristocracy did not normally make honourable offers to the daughters of cits. He pondered how to answer, but again she challenged him first.
“If that is the case, then prove it.”
He had not been home two hours and had already dug himself into a hole with no escape. He picked up his glass of wine and took a long drink. “If that is the case, then it shall not be too difficult. If not, then I shall wish you joy.”
She picked up her glass and clinked it against his. “I shall look forward to it.”
Christmas was Merry’s favourite time of the year, most likely because of her name. The other reason was that she loved the big family gatherings with the Fielding family. Now that everyone else had married, she often felt lonely.
She was soon to be one and twenty, and despite being quite wealthy, her parents would never hear of giving her a London Season. Their hard-earned money was not good enough for the nobs in London, her father always said.
Merry had accepted their decision with as much grace as she could, but certainly had had no prospects in their sleepy corner of the Cotswolds—until recently.
Lord Bruton had a country estate there, but other than some elderly spinster aunts, rarely did the family occupy it these days.
When they decided to spend their holiday there this year, you would have thought the king and queen were coming for a visit.
It had spread amongst the villagers faster than fire on dry straw.
Merry had little hope of anything coming of it, but it was hard not to be excited at something happening in the neighbourhood for once; that and the Fielding and Roxton siblings returning for their large festive gathering.
When Lord Bruton and family had arrived to fill the always-empty pew at the front of the church, the entire congregation was aflutter.
Merry had been entirely amused by the situation until she’d turned and seen the dark, handsome visage of the Honourable Barnaby Tremaine.
Then, despite herself, she was all aflutter too.
When he’d cast glances at her during the service, she’d felt a little breathless.
Afterwards, when they had been introduced, she had thought she might melt into a puddle when he kissed the air above her hand. She had become, in fact, a cliché that she had always made fun of. Thankfully, she had not swooned. The indignity!
Her family would never call on his, or vice versa, so when they met again, it was on the village High Street, at the house of mutual acquaintances, or at the village assembly, where he singled her out and danced with her twice.
His attention towards her had been most marked, even to a practical girl like Merry who was not wont to have her head turned by a handsome face or elegantly tied neckcloth.
Nonetheless, even her sceptical father had to begrudgingly acknowledge that the Baron’s son was courting her, though he had not been asked to do so, as was proper.
Her mother would never say so, but Merry knew she despaired of her daughter finding a suitable mate.
The past fortnight had been a fairy tale, and now Joshua Fielding had arrived and threatened to ruin it all.
Joshua Fielding, who had been her first adolescent puppy love, yet had never been more than annoyed by her ploys to get his attention.
He had not been home for years—years—then reappeared as a dashing, handsome war hero and threatened to ruin her only chance at marriage. Her ire rose with each successive thought.
If her father did not object to Tremaine, then how could Captain Fielding?
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Merry forced a smile. She had completely ignored Captain Fielding for her own thoughts.
“Not at all. I was considering all the lovely gestures Mr. Tremaine has made towards me these past weeks, and how contrary they are to your opinion of his character.”
“Indeed. Has he spoken to your father, then?”
Curse her blushing cheeks! “Not yet, but he has hinted at his intention to do so.”
The insolent man raised one sceptical eyebrow at her. How did he do that?
“What are you two speaking of?” Mrs. Fielding asked.
“Merry was just informing me of her suitor.”
Mrs. Fielding frowned. “Do you mean Mr. Tremaine? Has he spoken to your father?”
“Not yet, ma’am.”
“Well, then,” she said, seeming pleased, “I need not worry that I did not invite him to dinner.”
“I imagine he feels no slight,” she replied.
“I think we should have dancing tonight. You still remember how to dance, do you not, Joshua?” she asked, moving on from the topic of Barnaby Tremaine.
“It is often required of the King’s men. I would not embarrass you, I assure you.”
“Well, one hears of such things, but you have not been here for me to know one way or the other.”
“You know I would have been here had I been able,” he said softly to his mother, and Merry melted towards him a little with his gentle tone towards Mrs. Fielding. A very little. She was still rather cross with his defamation of Mr. Tremaine’s character.
“My son, you may show us the waltz that is still forbidden by our rigid vicar. I hear it is beautiful to watch.”
Merry had read about the waltz and longed to try it. She had even practised the steps. But to dance it with him? Her stomach churned at the thought.
From the look on Mrs. Fielding’s face, Merry knew any objections would be fruitless.
As a rule, their dances were very jovial and lively—nothing at all the way she expected the waltz to be. Perhaps someone else would object, and she would be able to avoid it.
“Why have you not yet married and set up your nursery, Joshua?” Simon, one of the brothers, asked from across the table with a gleam in his eye. It was just the sort of thing Merry would have expected one of the mothers to ask, but the brothers did like to tease.
“From what I can see, the nursery is already full enough.” He seemed undisturbed by the taunt.
“Do not tell me you intend to abstain from marital bliss and fatherhood?” Simon continued.
“Matrimony is not well suited with my profession,” he argued.
“Yet I read recently of Major Stuart’s recent nuptials.”
The entire table seemed to have ceased speaking in order to listen. Merry almost felt sorry for him.
“His bride happens to be rather an exception to the traditional sort of lady.”
The table looked at him, waiting for further explanation. He did not look inclined to elaborate.
“And what sort of lady is she?” she prompted.
“A rather extraordinary one. She seems to enjoy adventure rather than embroidery and afternoon tea with other ladies. There is nothing at all wrong with either; it is just that most ladies would not tolerate the unusual lifestyle required being married to a military man.”
Merry rather thought she’d like to meet Mrs. Stuart. She was not certain she wanted to have a traditional marriage herself, when he described the alternative.
“Perhaps you will find one such as she,” his mother said with a gentle pat on his arm as if he needed to be consoled. Merry bit back a grin.
“I assure you I am quite content, Mother.”
A look crossed Mrs. Fielding’s face that spoke sympathy, perhaps even pity, as though she thought him misguided.
“Now you have bungled matters, Brother. All the ladies here will be on their mettle to prove you wrong!”
“Perhaps their attentions would be best served by aiding Merry, who actually wishes for help,” Captain Fielding suggested with a straight face.
How could he say such a thing? She stamped on his foot under the table and was sorely tempted to toss her wine in his face. She cast him a look of disapproval, which was rewarded with a devilish grin. He was enjoying this!
The others began their conversations again, thankfully, and the attention was no longer upon her.
“Am I wrong?” he asked. “You just waxed eloquently about Mr. Tremaine and his courtship.”
“Not entirely, but I do not need the help, as it were, of the collective families!” she growled. “It was ungentlemanly of you.”
“Then I beg your pardon,” he responded in a tone that belied his words.