that knowledge and awareness brought her a good deal of pain. She told herself that she was used to such things, that they did not hurt her any longer, but if she were honest with herself, then Merry knew that she felt such deep torment that it was almost too great to even acknowledge.
“I am sorry for what Lord Weston said, Merry.”
Merry looked over at Titania, tugged from her melancholy thoughts. She quickly shrugged and looked back at her mother, who was frowning heavily. “It is nothing for you to apologize for, Titania,” she replied with another small shrug. “I am just glad that Lord Weston showed the truth of his character, so that I would not be taken in—as so many others are.”
“I quite understand your reasoning not to stand up and dance with him, Merry,” Lady Whitehaven said slowly, her brow still knotted. “Do not think that I will press you into doing as you do not wish to do, for that is not my intention at all.”
Merry gave her mother a half-smile. “Then what is, Mama?” she asked, honestly. “Is it not that you wish to dress me up in whatever manner you choose, in order to thrust me towards whichever gentlemen you can? What if they are all as Lord Weston is?”
Much to Merry’s surprise, Lady Whitehaven came closer to her, reached down, and took her hand in hers and then looked into her face with such a calm determination that Merry was quite taken aback.
“I want to help you, Merry,” her mother said firmly. “You have hidden in the shadows for too long. You pretend that you do not care for the ton, for all of London society, but I am suspicious that such a thing is nothing more than a pretense. I believe that you fear coming into the light.”
“Fear?” Merry replied, hating that her voice was a little unsteady. “I fear nothing, Mama.”
“Yes, you do,” Lady Whitehaven replied decisively. “You fear that if you make yourself known to society, they will find you lacking. I think that you believe what Lord Weston said, cruel though he was. I think, in your own mind, you believe that he is correct to state that you shall never be as Titania is—when the opposite is quite true.”
An ache came into Merry’s throat, which she pushed away almost at once. “I do not know what it is you are referring to, Mama,” she replied, turning her eyes away from Lady Whitehaven so that she would not have to look into her face and reveal herself. “I fear nothing. I simply do not care to be—”
“If you cannot be honest with me, then that is to be expected,” Lady Whitehaven interrupted. “You keep your own thoughts so well hidden, Merry, that it must be very difficult for you to even imagine sharing them with me. However, know that I believe this to be the best thing for you. Whether you wish it or not, you shall be transformed into the delicate young lady you have always been.”
Merry snorted in a most unladylike fashion and tugged her hand from her mother’s. “I am not delicate, Mama,” she told her, folding her arms across her chest. “Nor am I graceful and beautiful—as Titania is. I do not have good conversations and certainly do not catch the eye of any gentleman who passes me.”
Lady Whitehaven lifted one eyebrow, but Merry was not about to drift into melancholy now. “Nor do I find myself eager to be as Titania is,” she told her mother firmly. “I do not want to be pulled to the dance floor or forced to walk with a gentleman who cares nothing for me but only for what I might look like walking beside him.”
Titania got to her feet, her brows low. “You believe yourself to be plain and fear that a gentleman will only use you as an adornment?” she asked, bringing a flush to Merry’s cheeks. “What do you mean, Merry?”
Merry sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “I am well aware that I do not have your beauty, Titania,” she said calmly, as Titania tugged the bell for some refreshments. “However, Mama is determined to attempt to improve my countenance in various ways, and I do not want any gentlemen to simply come near to me because of that. I do not expect there to be hordes of gentlemen,” she added with a wry smile, “but nor do I want even a single gentleman’s attention if he does not seek to know my character.”
Titania nodded slowly, sitting back down in her seat. “That is an admirable desire indeed,” she replied, as Lady Whitehaven sighed heavily and made her way to sit opposite Titania. “Can you not trust that Mama will take your concerns seriously and, therefore, only introduce you to gentlemen who will not do as you fear?”
Merry hesitated, seeing the way that her mother shot her an inquiring glance. “I…it seems that I have no other choice but to trust her,” she said eventually. “Although I am relieved to know that you will not consider Lord Weston, Mama.” She said this with a slight lift of her brow, seeing her mother nod and feeling herself fill with relief. Lord Weston, it seemed, would not be the sort of gentleman to be encouraged to give his attentions to Merry. That gave her some hope at the very least. Sighing to herself, Merry finally took a seat alongside her mother and sister, realizing that she had resigned herself to the fact that her mother would have her way in the end. The wager had been lost. Lord Carroway had seen to that, and now she would have to spend the rest of the Season being dressed up in whatever manner her mother chose. She would no longer be able to pull out her dullest dress and insist that her hair be pulled back into a chignon. Her mother had won.
A scratch at the door alerted them to the butler. Lady Whitehaven called him to enter, and he came in at once, enquiring as to what he might be able to do for them.
“Tea and refreshments, I think,” Lady Whitehaven said with a warm smile towards Merry, who could not quite bring herself to return it. “And have the carriage prepared. I intend to go into town thereafter.”
Merry groaned and passed a hand over her eyes. No doubt this was for her benefit. She would be dragged along and made to try on various gowns of an array of colors until her mother was happy.
“At once, Lady Whitehaven,” the butler replied bowing. “Oh, and a letter has arrived for you, Miss Wells.”
Merry looked up in surprise, seeing a footman coming towards her with a silver tray in his hand. One letter sat upon it. She had not been expecting anyone to write to her, as she had not a good deal of correspondence. Frowning, she picked it up with a murmur of thanks, before turning it over in her hand. The seal and handwriting did not spring even a flicker of recognition within her, and so she was forced to wait until the butler and the footman had withdrawn from the room before she opened it.
“It is unusual for you to receive a letter, Merry,” Titania said, albeit a little bluntly. “Who has written to you?”
Merry let out a long breath as she quickly read the short lines. Her anger began to burn through her, searing her heart. Lord Weston’s words were as flowing and as sickly sweet as his manner, and she would not accept his apology simply because he had chosen such wonderful words by which to express it.
“Lord Weston has written to me,” she told Titania and Lady Whitehaven, looking up from the letter to see them both exchange a glance. “It is of little importance however.”
Lady Whitehaven’s interest grew obvious. “I hardly think so,” she replied quickly, gesturing to the letter. “What does he say within it?”
Merry sighed inwardly but prevented herself from deflating into her chair. “He apologizes for his lack of courtesy and his ill manner towards me,” she replied, not wanting to read out each and every word to her mother. “That is all.” She did not mention that, at the very end of the letter, Lord Weston had asked for a second opportunity to greet her, promising that he would make a much-improved impression than he had the first time. There was no eagerness in her heart to see the fellow again, and even though Lady Whitehaven had assured her that she would be more than careful in deciding which gentlemen she would press upon Merry, Merry herself did not feel certain that her mother would not be taken in by Lord Weston’s ways. He had a quick smile and honeyed speech, which meant that Lady Whitehaven might well be overcome by his ways.
“Then you have no eagerness to respond to him,” Titania stated, making Merry nod. “Even though he has ap
ologized profusely.”
“If he wishes to apologize to me, then I would prefer he speak to me about his behavior, rather than detailing a letter and expecting me to respond,” Merry replied swiftly. “And I am not as inclined to think well of him as you are, Titania. I shall not easily forget his words nor the cruel manner in which he spoke to me.”