Chapter 17

Mercy pretended to think about where to move her next chess piece, but in reality, she watched the Duke of Harrington from the corner of her eye. Miss Morgan had given him a pretty little bow when he came in, her cheeks aflame, and Harrington had smiled pleasantly at her in return. If she hadn't heard anything of their past history, she might not have noticed the way he kept taking furtive glances at Miss Morgan every time Mercy's eyes were on the board.

Mercy put a finger on top of her queen. "She has a lovely figure, doesn't she?"

Harrington's head jerked back to the chessboard. "Pardon?"

"My queen, both queens, I suppose. The woodworker must have been a master."

"Oh." The Duke of Harrington blinked as if he was only just understanding what she meant. "Yes, I'm certain you're right."

"And where exactly did you meet Miss Morgan?"

Harrington's eyes found hers. He'd always looked at her with at least a modicum of interest. It was such a small amount, she hadn't noticed it, but now that it was gone, she noticed its absence. His eyes were cold, like what his eyes would have looked like had he gone into battle while in the army. Guarded and impartial, as if nothing in the world mattered to him, for he knew he might lose it at any moment.

"My brother-in-law introduced us."

"Really? How long ago was that?"

"About two years ago."

Mercy nodded. That is what Miss Morgan had said as well. He hadn't outright lied to her at least, and it didn't seem as though Miss Morgan had either. His discomfort with this situation was palpable. "And do you plan to continue your acquaintance with her?"

A deep crease furrowed between Harringtons strong brows. "She is someone I will most likely always have a relationship with. In one form or another."

Mercy's finger dropped from her queen. She hadn't moved her. She had no plan. This was probably the worst chess game she had ever played, and the only reason she hadn't lost already was because Harrington wasn't playing any better. She'd wanted to see Miss Morgan and Harrington together, had hoped that... well, what? That Miss Morgan had exaggerated her relationship with him? But it didn't look as though she had, which meant Mercy needed to move on to the second wave of her plan, to get the two of them alone together so Miss Morgan could try to convince Harrington not to enter into a loveless marriage.

A loveless marriage. Mercy's worst nightmare made worse by the fact that when Harrington had kissed her fingertips in the entrance hall she had nearly run into the drawing room to tell Penelope she'd changed her mind about their plan and to sneak Miss Morgan out of the house.

How had Mercy gotten herself into this mess, and why couldn't Miss Morgan have shown up earlier, before Mercy cared one whit about how the duke's hand felt on top of her own? And before her pride had mixed in with her other feelings for him, turning her into a jealous mess every time his eyes drifted to Miss Morgan's side of the room.

"Do you see her as someone who could help you socially, someone who could help you influence others to see your line of thinking where the Irish are concerned?"

A cough-like laugh escaped Harrington's throat. "Definitely not. Her family is... well, they aren't exactly altruistically motivated."

"And my family is?"

The Duke of Harrington quirked his head to one side as if she'd asked a ridiculous question. "Yes," he said, with the kind of quiet devotion she was almost convinced could be passionate.

"My parents are rather remarkable that way, aren't they?"

He leaned forward until his head was above the chessboard, his coldness gone. His eyes held a heat that if she didn't know better was the kind that did lead couples into darkened corners and secluded gardens. "And they have raised a daughter to be the same."

Holy heavens. Mercy gripped the sides of her little chess table, forcing her hands to stay in place and not reach out for him or do something irreversible, like grab his face and just make him kiss her already. If he'd spoken in this manner to Miss Morgan, it was no wonder she was willing to come to Mercy for help to win him back.

"I want you to know," Mercy forced her voice to remain steady, "that my family will help you in your causes no matter what happens between the two of us. We care about the Irish too."

The Duke of Harrington's smile was confident. "I know."

"So, if your relationship with Miss Morgan prevents... prevents..." What? She couldn't assume he was preparing to ask to marry her, even if she was fairly certain he was.

"My relationship with Miss Morgan won't prevent anything. We don't even have a relationship. Not really. We also don't not have a relationship. It is a strange story, and one I would like my sister to tell."

"Your sister?" Why would he want his sister to tell her about his affair with Miss Morgan?

"Yes, I will undoubtedly say something wrong, and she will flay me and call me the most unromantic man in England because she thinks all that matters in life is love, and I happen to think if love makes you as ridiculous as it made her—well, I simply don't believe it has to make people ridiculous. I believe it can be controlled and happen in a perfectly respectable way without a mania of emotions influencing the parties involved to make scandalous choices."

Mercy heard the words coming out of his mouth and saw the ways his eyes lit up just as fervently as they had when he had declared her remarkably altruistic, but nothing about his words and eyes added up. Was he fervent about her at all? Or only about his belief that love could be controlled and commanded?

He'd had at least two relationships with women he couldn't actually control himself around, and all Mercy wanted from him was for him to feel as strongly about her as he had about them. No, not him . It didn't have to be him. She wanted someone to love her without boundaries, and it couldn't be him. Because he didn't. He'd probably chosen to court her because he knew he wouldn't be tempted by her like he had been by Lady Plymton and Miss Morgan. Either that or the part of him that had allowed his heart and his emotions to have a say in his actions was dead.

He'd killed it.

"Respect." She smiled at him in a way that if he knew her at all, he would know she didn't agree with him. "The core of all romance."

The duke nodded, as if what Mercy just said had been said in earnest. "Which is why I was perplexed to see Miss Morgan here and so soon after you found out about Lady Plymton. The timing is unfortunate to say the least. But I need you to know that I am driven now to do everything as correct as possible. It is important to me as my father's son, because of the title I hold, and the people's lives who could quite possibly be at stake if I'm not."

"You shouldn't put that kind of pressure on yourself."

"I don't mind the pressure. It makes me a better person."

But did it make him happy? Mercy was not ready to choose a life like that. One where love was measured by the good it could do for Society and one small mistake from her could cost the lives of some of the most vulnerable people in Ireland.

"Are you certain you want to live that way?"

"Lady Mercy, I truthfully don't feel like I have another choice."

Mercy slid her queen forward and took a rook. It was a sacrifice; the Duke of Harrington would easily take her queen in his next move, and it wasn't even a sacrifice that would give her a later advantage.

She wanted this chess match to be over. The sooner, the better.

The Duke of Harrington's priorities were so far removed from her own, he made her head spin. Even if his decisive courting suddenly made all the sense in the world.

He didn't have a choice to make; it'd been made for him. The duke hadn't chosen her. Society and her place in it had.

If she told him now that their relationship would never work, she would break her parents' hearts, and he would go off and find the next best bride he could. She might not understand the duke, but she did want him to be happy.

She wanted him to know he did have a choice.

And she couldn't think of a better candidate to tell him that than the woman he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off the whole afternoon. She just needed to give the two of them a chance to be alone and work it all out.