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Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

After a minute had passed in utter silence, Colin worried he had mistaken the situation entirely. Mercy stood before him, wet strands of copper hair plastered to her temples and specks of mud trailing her jaw and neck, blending with her freckles. Her green eyes were wide and unblinking, trained on him.

“Partnership?” she repeated.

“Yes. It would be an arrangement that benefited and suited both parties. My house is in dire need of repair, but it is warm enough and we could begin restoring it straight away. You would not be far from Grace or your parents, of course, so you could remain close to your family.”

“Grace is engaged,” she said, the words thick.

Oh. He hadn’t known. Had someone told him that bit of news? Colin did not care overly much for town gossip and was likely to forget a tidbit before the speaker had completed their sentence. “I am happy for her. Then I amend. You will remain close to the vicarage and your parents if you come live with me at Winterbourne. ”

Her eyes widened again before dropping to the ground. It was impossible to know what she was thinking, and never before had Colin so deeply desired to understand the thoughts of a woman.

“Mercy, if this is a repulsive offer, say so at once and I will cease?—”

“It is not repulsive,” she said, exasperated. “It is shocking.”

“Gads. You aren’t going to swoon, are you?”

She shot him a glare. “Of course not. When have I ever been the type to swoon?”

In truth, her general composure was one of the things he had always liked about her. Why had he not considered her sooner? When he’d made his lists, Mercy had never crossed his mind.

Perhaps because she had never appeared to actively seek a husband before. She hadn’t been courted by anyone, as far as he could recall. Was she uninterested in marriage? In truth, the women who had made up his list were all much younger than her. “You do wish to marry someday, do you not?”

A quiet scoff left her throat. “I would complain you are being too forward, but this needs to be a rather personal conversation, does it not?”

“I do not wish to offend you.”

“There is no offense.” She looked to the sky and shook her head. “It is flattering, to be honest.”

That word. Flattering . It traveled through him with a measure of satisfaction. He liked that he had flattered her, though the devil knew why. “Are you considering my offer?”

Her green eyes met his. “I am.” She shook her head. “Good heavens, but I really am. ”

He could not contain the amused laugh that spilled from him. “Shall I give you time to consider it? I can return?—”

“That is unnecessary.” She brushed a stubborn wet lock of hair from her eyes. “I will marry you, Colin.”

He couldn’t help the grin that slashed across his face. Mercy was utterly perfect. Lady Edith would adore her; everyone in Millcombe certainly did. She was reasonable, level-headed, charitable, patient, exceedingly kind, and—above all—amusing. She had the most ridiculous father in Somerset, his antics sometimes bringing Lady Edith to mind, but that had no bearing on her eligibility. She could not have been more perfect had Lady Edith designed Mercy herself.

Yet, less than a day ago, Colin had no plans to marry at all. It wasn’t as if he disdained the idea of a wife—he merely had not met anyone who had enticed him toward matrimony. Was it madness to accept Lady Edith’s strictures and marry this woman? He would receive twenty thousand pounds, yes, but he would also be forced to make a life with her.

Mercy’s green eyes were vibrant in the growing rain. Her copper hair was dark, her clothing wet, but her expression was open and thoughtful, and she was very pretty. Why had he not noticed such before?

Colin shook away the thought. The truth was, he liked Mercy. He could find a way to care for her, surely. If not love, then something akin to it—something Lady Edith would certainly approve of.

“Truly? You will become my wife, Mercy Caldwell?”

She shook her head, but her answer opposed her action. “Yes,” she said, as if she herself did not believe her answer. “I will. ”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed. The hurdle was overcome easily—far more easily than he ever could have imagined. “It would be convenient to begin reading the banns straight away. Unless you would like time?—”

“I do not need time.”

“Then I shall finish walking you home and request to speak to your father.” He said the words with the weight they deserved. Once they took that step, there would be no returning.

Mercy seemed to understand. She turned on the lane toward the vicarage. “He is home.” She looked at her shoulder and the side of her cloak as they walked. “Oh, look at this. I don’t suppose I need to wash my cloak after all. The rain is taking care of it for me.”

Despite the very ridiculous nature of her joke, Colin could not help himself. He laughed.

“But you do not like him, do you?” Mama asked, leaning close and whispering to Mercy. “When have you ever shown the least preference for Colin Birchall?”

Grace sat on Mama’s other side, her arms crossed above her chest and a dainty pout on her lips. She wore a pale green gown that complemented her dark hair nicely, and her lips and cheeks were flushed becomingly, but the effect was ruined by her ill temper. “You need not go out and marry the first man you see simply because I have found a husband, Mercy.”

“Enough.” Mama’s green eyes flashed.

“It is a bit suspicious in timing, do you not think?” Grace pressed. “Mr. Raybourne cannot have the banns read for our marriage until he returns after Christmas, and she comes home with an engagement the very next day? You ought to wait until you fall in love , Mercy. You will come to regret this hasty decision.”

Mercy looked to the door, the one on the other side of the parlor, where Colin was now ensconced with her father in the study. She hadn’t expected such a violent objection from her sister, but she supposed it felt to Grace as though she was stealing the attention.

It was nothing like that. Well, it was only a little like that. Mercy’s strong desire to not be the final unmarried Caldwell girl had played a role in her acceptance. All those pitying looks and well-meaning remarks from family and members of their parish had built a mountain of resentment within her she had tried to subdue. Mrs. Hoopes’ parting words had stuck with her.

There is no shame in younger sisters being married before the eldest, Mercy. Chin up.

If Mrs. Hoopes did not believe there to be any shame in Mercy’s unmarried state after two of her younger sisters were wed and the youngest engaged, she would not have felt the need to provide reassurance. That particular comment had come fresh on the heels of a rumor. Once Mr. Raybourne returned from spending Christmas with his grandfather in Kent and Grace’s engagement was announced, the entire parish would be at liberty to provide their additional condolences.

Mercy knew this, because she had lived through it twice before. Each time a sister married, the pity grew.

She had not accepted Colin’s offer blindly. She knew his situation well—his personality, the state of his house, the way his mother and sister had fled Winterbourne the moment they could. Yet she had once dreamed of becoming his wife. Despite her initial reservations, she was being offered a chance to escape becoming an old maid, so she took it.

Mercy wasn’t blind to the fact that Colin never would have proposed marriage to her had he not been offered a large sum of money in exchange for finding a wife. But he’d chosen her, had he not? It was commonly known that Sophia Fairfax had been doing her best to incite a courtship with him for months.

Colin had still chosen Mercy. That meant he could—at the very least—find a life with her to be generally enjoyable. She was determined to clutch the thread of hope.

“Mercy,” Mama said, her voice level, though her green eyes were brimming with concern. “Do you even like him?”

She had always been drawn to him. Evidently she had been skilled at hiding her feelings if even her family had not noted it.

“The marriage was his idea,” Mercy said. “But I am glad of it.”

Mama raked her gaze over Mercy’s face. “Then I will support you.”

“Can you not see how strange this?—”

“Grace,” Mama snapped. “You may sit here quietly, or you may leave the room.”

Sulking lower in her seat, Grace huffed a frustrated groan.

Mercy ignored her, and the door to Papa’s study creaked open. Colin preceded Papa from the room, carrying his hat in his hands. He glanced from the crackling fire to the table on the far side of the room, holding various half-finished embroidery and knitting projects. It was organized, though she could imagine how untidy it appeared. The way his attention lingered on it built discomfort in her stomach, but she remained where she was until her mother began to rise.

Papa gave Mama a discreet nod, though the lines around his mouth betrayed his concern. He had been praying for Mercy to find a good, worthy husband since she was young. Colin Birchall was a good neighbor, never missed church, and participated in their parish service for the less fortunate every year. Surely the displeasure Papa was attempting to hide had nothing to do with Colin. He must have one of his headaches.

“This is such a surprise, Mr. Birchall,” Mama said. “I would have prepared a pie had I known we’d have something to celebrate.”

Colin pasted a smile on his face. “Think nothing of it.”

“Will your mother return for the wedding?”

Mrs. Birchall had not lived in Millcombe for at least four years. She had moved to live with Colin’s sister Honora after she’d had her baby and never returned.

His jaw tightened. “It is unlikely. Perhaps next year we will invite everyone to Winterbourne for Christmas.”

Because, according to his plans, by next year the house would be repaired. Mercy hoped he would not elucidate further. She had accepted her fate participating in a convenient marriage arrangement, but Grace didn’t need to hear the particulars.

Mercy would be immensely pleased if no one ever learned the particulars. She needed to be certain he was of the same mind.

“Can I speak to you, Colin?” she asked, forcing the room to go silent.

He blinked at her before his gaze swung to Papa .

Mercy bit back her irritation. If they were to be married, one conversation was beyond acceptable.

Papa put his hands together. “Of course. You must have the room. How silly of us not to have considered that you would wish to speak to one another. Come, Mrs. Caldwell. Grace.” He ushered the women through the parlor door and closed it behind himself, leaving the room in stark silence.

The longcase clock ticked against the wall, punctuating the stillness.

Colin’s hazel eyes tracked Mercy’s face before dipping to her gown. It was an older one, and she’d chosen it today for the warmth it would provide on her walk to the Hoopes’ house. Had she realized she would be accepting a marriage proposal, she would have dressed differently.

Quiet stretched and grew, pushing against her and making her uncomfortable. “My father appeared to approve.”

Colin gave her a nod. The majority of the room remained between them, as if neither of them wanted to take the first step forward. “He will begin reading the banns Sunday.”

Mercy’s heart ticked. “Did you tell him of the arrangement with your aunt?”

“No.” Colin’s brow furrowed before clearing. “The funds? I did not think it was relevant.”

It was entirely relevant, but she was glad he didn’t seem to agree on that point. She dropped her gaze to her mother’s worn sofa, noting where the repaired tear had been covered by a pillow. Each of the Caldwell girls had a dowry, of course, but it was not by any means sufficient for such a match as Colin Birchall and his grand estate. She lifted her attention to him again. “What did you tell my father? ”

Colin shifted, his fingers marching along his hat brim and spinning it in the process. “That I want to marry you.”

Mercy’s stomach dipped. I want to marry you . The words she had dreamed of hearing over and over again. She forced the feelings into the corner to be considered later. He certainly didn’t mean them the way her heart wanted him to. “But why , Colin? My father is an intelligent man. If you did not inform him of your aunt’s will, how did you convince him to agree to the marriage?”

Colin took a step closer, setting his hat on the edge of the sofa. “I told him the truth. We desire to marry, and we desire his blessing. We would like for it to be soon.” He shifted again. “Your father required no great explanation.”

Mercy’s entire body froze. Was she making a mistake? The more Colin spoke about their arrangement, the more he made it sound like a business transaction. She heard the creaking of a floorboard overhead and closed her eyes. She loved her parents, but she did not wish to be in this house with them forever running to deliver sick baskets or helping with the children during choir or baking pie for the neighbors to help her mama’s parish duties. Mercy wanted a life of her own, freedom to serve on her own terms, a household to run for herself and not in assistance to her mother. She wanted her own life, and Colin could provide it for her. Was she being foolish to accept this plan?

No. She was nearly twenty-seven. She had no other prospects. And Colin was a good man.

“Can we keep your aunt’s inheritance private? I…” She struggled to find a reason that was better than the truth—to cover her pride.

Colin nodded. “I had not intended on admitting anyone else into my confidence on this matter. ”

“Too many people will talk,” she said.

He seemed to agree.

Silence between them was broken by another creak above. Colin picked up his hat and put it back on his head. He took a step toward her, then clasped his hands behind his back, as though he was uncertain what to say.

“I will see you on Sunday, I suppose,” Mercy said.

“Our news will be a great shock to the congregation. Shall I…” Colin looked to the fire, then back at her. “Would you like me to sit with your family? I have not thought through the details of our decision yet.”

“You are welcome to sit with us.”

He smiled, a dimple popping in his cheek that seemed to apply pressure to her chest. She was certainly attracted to the man, and that relieved dimpled smile was not helping matters.

Colin dipped in a bow and turned to leave. She watched him walk through the door and down the corridor with an ever-increasing heartbeat. It was too late to change anything now, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to even if she could.

But Colin was correct. They were about to become the center of Millcombe gossip.

Hopefully she had made the right choice.

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