The Earl She Despised (London Season Matchmaker 3)

“Thank you for your apology,” she replied tightly, not wanting to allow Titania, Catherine, or Dinah to see that Titania’s words had left a mark upon her heart. “Perhaps we might talk about ribbons another time. Do excuse me.”

She left before any of her sisters or cousin could say anything more to her, wanting to bring an end to the conversation. Her heart was clenched with pain, making her almost double over as she quit the room. Pausing for a long moment, she dragged in air until the pain left her, closing her eyes tightly so as to stem the tears that came quickly. Titania had apologized, and she had accepted it. There was no need to think of it any longer. She would continue to do as she had always done – keep her feelings and struggles within her heart and not allow any other to see them.

“Merry, my dear! Whatever is the matter?”

Her mother bore down on her all at once, having appeared at the top of the staircase and seeing Merry bent over.

“I-I am quite all right, Mama,” Merry assured her, one hand placed against her heart as she tried to smile. “It is just that I–”

To her horror, as she tried to finish speaking, tears began to pour from her eyes and splash onto her cheeks. She stared up, aghast, at Lady Whitehaven, seeing her mother’s concerned expression and feeling as though she could do nothing to prevent herself from weeping all the more.

“I am truly worried for you, my dear,” her mother said, her arm wrapped around Merry’s shoulders as she drew her away from the door and began to walk with her towards the library. “What is it that troubles you so?”

Merry blinked rapidly, her tears finally abating as she walked into the library. “I am quite all right, Mama.”

“No, you are not,” Lady Whitehaven replied firmly, “and I am not about to let you pretend that there is nothing wrong, Merry. I know that you are vastly experienced when it comes to hiding all that you feel from everyone but yourself, but in this matter, I will not allow you to do so now. This Season has been an entirely new experience for you, has it not? Therefore, there must be a great deal of emotion that floods you, and I must insist that you share it with me.” Sitting down, she gestured for Merry to take the seat opposite her and, having very little choice but to do so, Merry opened her mouth but did not begin to speak.

“Now,” Lady Whitehaven began, gesturing towards Merry. “Begin.”

Merry opened her mouth to again to insist that she was perfectly well, only to see the flash of her mother’s eyes and the thin tug of her lips and to realize that she would not be able to escape from it this time.

“I-I have been considering my own behavior as regards a certain gentleman,” she admitted slowly, seeing her mother’s shoulders begin to drop in evident relief that Merry was beginning to speak to her honestly. “I have been deep in thought in fact, to the point that I was distracted from what Titania was speaking of – ribbons and the like – and so made to quit the room. Titania and I had something of a spat, but it is at an end now.” She managed a watery smile, although her mother began to frown. “It has been put right, Mama, that is all. You need have no concern for me.”

Lady Whitehaven shook her head. “That does not explain why you were so deeply upset, Merry. What is it about your behavior that concerns you so?”

Merry hesitated, pressing her lips together as she tried to explain what she had been thinking and feeling. How could she tell her mother abou

t Lord Weston when she had been so determined to set herself against him?

“Merry.”

Her mother’s voice was low, her eyes narrowing slightly, and Merry knew there was no escape from this now. Heaving a sigh, she shook her head.

“It is to do with Lord Weston,” she admitted, seeing her mother’s brows lift in surprise.

“Not, then, Lord Whitaker?”

Closing her eyes, Merry let out another breath. “I will admit that Lord Whitaker was most attentive at the ball,” she replied, opening her eyes to see her mother nod slowly. “However, at one point, he behaved in a manner that did not allow me to speak nor act in the way that I wished, and I have found myself troubled with that.”

Lady Whitehaven said nothing, sitting back in her chair and continuing to watch Merry.

“As regards Lord Weston,” Merry continued, finding it easier to speak with every word that was said. “I confess that it is my own behavior towards him that has been weighing on my mind.”

“In what way?” Lady Whitehaven inquired, her expression alive with interest. “You were not inappropriate or ill mannered, I hope?”

“Of course I was not,” Merry replied at once. “But I will admit that something Lord Weston said angered me, and I responded harshly. It was only some moments later that I realized I might have been incorrect with what I thought and that he could have been, in fact, seeking to compliment and encourage me.”

Lady Whitehaven’s expression changed to one of mild surprise. “Indeed.”

“But by then, it was much too late,” Merry finished hopelessly. “And having reflected upon what I did and said, I must admit that I was irritated in seeing Lord Weston walk with Lady Reid.”

Lady Whitehaven drew in a breath. “I saw that also,” she replied with a small smile. “And I found myself relieved that you had set your mind against Lord Weston, for it appears to me that his company is sought after by almost every lady in the ton.”

“Save for me,” Merry replied heavily.

Lady Whitehaven chuckled softly. “Yes, that is so,” she admitted quietly. “I meant only to encourage you—that you were not the only one who reacted in a certain way upon seeing Lady Reid with Lord Weston.” She shook her head. “Lady Reid’s reputation is well known.”

Merry nodded but said nothing. What was troubling her most of all was the sheer depth of feeling that had crashed over her when she had first glanced Lord Weston and Lady Reid. Disappointment, sadness, grief, anger, and frustration had washed through her, one after the other, until she had barely any breath left in her lungs. Of course, she had no reason to feel such things because it was quite right for a gentleman to walk with a lady through a ballroom and, as such, did not signify a great deal. Why she had felt so strongly, Merry still did not know, and it troubled her still.