Chapter 3

"Mama, do you really think the necklace is necessary?" Mercy sat on her bed, resting her feet before an evening that would be filled with dancing. Kate had finished Mercy's hair but was only halfway through one of her Irish tales when Mama had asked her to leave the two of them alone in Mercy's bedroom. Luckily, it was one of Kate's stories Mercy had heard before. Her toes tapped to a silent rhythm against her footboard. She wasn't great at resting them, not when she knew she had hours of enjoyment ahead of her. "Certainly, the earrings and jewels in my hair will be enough." Mercy pulled at the large emeralds around her neck. As much as she loved them for their history, waltzing in them all evening was certain to give her a headache. If it were up to her, the only jewelry she would ever wear would be the thin silver bracelet Kate had given her. It was lightweight, unobtrusive, and a reminder of her maid's friendship.

Mama paced in front of Mercy's bed. "Unless royalty arrives at the Stafford ball, this necklace should be the most stunning in the room. No one has better emeralds in their family than we do."

Mercy was well aware of the source of pride Mama's emeralds were to her. She had heard the story many times of how her grandfather, the fifth earl of Driarwood, had gifted them to her grandmother after he built himself a grand hunting lodge.

Mercy had never thought the tradeoff quite worth it. She would much rather have a hunting lodge than a cumbersome strand of emeralds. But the story held an even deeper meaning to their family of four. Papa had gifted them to Mama before they were engaged. It was scandalous, but it was also the turning point in Papa's parents finally accepting the fact that he was determined to marry Mama, despite her lack of title or family connections. "Why today, Mama? I've never worn the emeralds before. I'm not certain I should."

Mama pulled her up from the bed and pushed her toward the mirror. Standing behind Mercy, she squeezed both of her shoulders and looked at the two of them together in the reflection. "Your father and I have been talking, and we think it is time for you start to look at balls as opportunities not only to dance, but to make a match. We have been indulgent thus far. You've already had two Seasons, and I believe you've enjoyed them, but there are reasons a woman of your age attends balls, and it isn't only for the dancing."

Mercy's eyes widened, and she craned her neck to look back at Mama. "You've always told me I could take my time finding a husband."

"I did." Mama smiled, but her lips were tight. "And you have. I am only saying it is time to start looking a little more intently. What about Mr. Beauford? I have seen you dance with him at most of the balls."

Mr. Beauford? She had been dancing with him for ages, and Mama had never mentioned him before. "That is because he's an excellent dancer."

"Perhaps that could make him an excellent husband." Mama's eyebrow rose along with her shoulders, like she was making an offhand remark. But nothing about Mr. Beauford had appealed to Mama last week. What had changed?

"Mama, first the emeralds and now Mr. Beauford? Is something wrong?"

Mama laughed and daintily patted the tendrils of Mercy's expertly styled hair. "Of course not. Your father is interested in taking a tour of the Continent, and we would like you settled before then. We are happy to wait, of course, but a little prodding never hurt. We simply would like to see you happy."

"With Mr. Beauford?" She tried to picture herself spending a quiet evening at home with him, conversing with him, or... his lips on hers. She shook her head. Mr. Beauford was an excellent dancer, but there had never been a spark of interest in his dark-brown eyes, no hands lingering longer than necessary. The time was long past for theirs to be a relationship of passion. Her parents were desperate for each other during their courtship, and they'd been thrilled when Rosalind had fallen madly in love with Richard. Mercy had cut her teeth on two of the greatest love stories of all time, and now Mama thought she might settle for Mr. Beauford? There was only one reason he sought her out at any ball they both attended.

They both loved to dance.

And that had to be the absolute worst reason to marry a person. Marriage would mean they would dance together less often, not more.

Mama waved her hand in the air. "Your father and I thought perhaps you and Mr. Beauford were forming an attachment."

Mercy frowned. "I hadn't thought so."

Mama shrugged. "If not Mr. Beauford, then perhaps there is someone else. Has no one caught your eye in the past two years?"

Plenty of men had caught her eye. She wasn't blind, and London had an excessive number of well-dressed bachelors. But she hadn't found anyone she wanted to settle down with. She hadn't even found anyone she hoped would come calling—some still did, but not by any encouragement on her part. Her main concern had been food, conversation, and dancing. One couldn't plan on finding the love of her life. That person would come in like a bolt of lightning when she least expected it. She would feel a pull to him... their eyes would meet across the room, and they would know... "No," she answered Mama. "There are many kind and good-looking men. I simply don't really know any of them. And none of them excite me."

She ran her fingertips over Mama's emeralds. They were no hunting lodge, but every time Mama's eyes rested on them, she softened and looked almost as young as she did in her marriage portrait. Perhaps Mercy should start trying harder to find the man who would keep her feeling young no matter how old they grew together. Rosalind had been ready to fall in love during her first Season, and certainly enough, Richard Young had swept her off her feet. Even still, couldn't Mercy do that without the emeralds? As much as she loved what they symbolized, they were gaudy and unlike her.

At least her dress was simple. They had ordered it months ago, because the lavender silk had made Mama sigh in satisfaction and reminisce about some of her old ball gowns. Thankfully Mercy had been able to order it in her usual style, one that was simple and comfortable for a night of dancing. If she were ordering the gown now, would Mama have asked for a wider and deeper neckline or more ornamentation? Mama had never expected her to dress to please others. So why now? Why the emeralds?

"Well," Mama said. "You can't really get excited by someone you don't know. Show a bit more interest in them. You will be surprised at how far a few questions can go." Mama spun her around so they were face-to-face. She grasped both of Mercy's shoulders in her hands—softly, so she wouldn't damage the soft puffs of her lavender sleeves, though Mercy could tell she wanted to grip her tighter. "Lady Yolten is still in Paris with Lord Yolten, so you won't have a friend to distract you. Tonight, I would like you to find three men and encourage them. Make them aware of the fact that you wouldn't mind it if they came calling."

Mama had never considered Penelope—Lady Yolten—a distraction before. Mercy was fortunate that many of the ton had snubbed Penelope simply because she'd been the daughter of a manufacturer before marrying Lord Yolten. It paved an easy path for the two of them to become the best of friends. Why would Mama be happy she wasn't at the ball? "But shouldn't I—"

Mama placed a finger to Mercy's lips. "Please, do this. You are an extremely pleasant young lady. It shouldn't be much trouble to find yourself a husband."

With Mama's finger on her lips, she couldn't have responded, even if she had known how. Ever since Rosalind married six years ago, it was simply Mercy, Mama, and Papa against the world. They'd always felt like a team. They loved their time together, reading at home or walking through Town. Mercy had come out and started attending balls, but she had always assumed it was more because Mama and Papa had tired of leaving her home alone and wanted her to join them for social functions. Rosalind had flirted and danced her way through her first Season before Richard captivated her on their first meeting. The two of them had been nearly scandalous in their affection for each other before their marriage. Mercy was determined to take as many Seasons as she needed until she could find a man to love her as Richard loved Rosalind.

Mercy would never settle for less.

Mama pulled her finger away from Mercy's mouth and grasped her by both shoulders again. "Three men. Each time you go to a ball, I want you to look for three men who interest you. They can be the same men each time, or if you get to know one of them and he doesn't please you, find another one to take his place. It would make your father and me very happy to see you settled with a good man."

Mercy opened her mouth to protest, but something in Mama's eyes made her pause. An edge of worry, the inability to meet her eye. Papa had been acting similarly for a few weeks, but this was the first time Mama had seemed out of sorts. Something must have happened.

Mercy sighed. "All right. I'll wear the emeralds. And I shall put forth more of an effort with at least three men tonight. With Penelope still at her country estate, it isn't as though I'll have anyone else to speak to." Mercy was friendly with many women, but Penelope was the only person in London who made speaking as entertaining as dancing.

"Even if Lady Yolten were in Town, she wouldn't begrudge you some extra time with a few gentlemen." The lines at the corners of Mama's eyes changed from worry to the smile lines Mercy was used to. "Something tells me we will be receiving an abundance of flowers tomorrow."

Mercy couldn't find it in herself to smile back. Something was different, and it wasn't a small thing. She needed to find out exactly what that something was, and she needed to find it soon, before her parents became like so many other parents, only finding joy in her if she was acting correctly and looking for a husband.

But how did one go about discovering parents' secrets? A ball seemed to be the perfect place to answer that question.