Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

In the days since Colin had proposed marriage to Mercy Caldwell, he had not seen her once. Instead throwing himself into preparing the house to receive a mistress, he put himself to work alongside Mr. Hubble, tearing out the floor in the bride-to-be’s room and replacing it with sturdy planks. All the furniture had been moved out for the purpose.

He’d hired Mr. Hubble to repair the main stairs a few months prior—though, at the time, he could only afford to fix the steps that had broken beyond saving. With Lady Edith’s money, he could finish that job and complete every other item on his extensive list. When he approached Hubble with the offer to continue working at Winterbourne Park, the man had only been too happy to accept.

Colin sat on the finished edge of the floor, waiting for Hubble to return with another stack of planks. He breathed heavily, sweat streaking down his temples, and rested his arms on bent legs. He really ought to have started with the roof, but Mercy would need a place to sleep. He didn’t want her to regret her choice the moment she stepped into his house.

“Mr. Birchall?” Flint said, waiting in the doorway. The butler was utterly adept at appearing starched and submissive in equal part. His chest was drawn up, his hands hanging at his sides. “You’ve Miss Mercy Caldwell to see you, sir.”

Colin looked over his shoulder, surprise hanging his mouth open.

Flint surveyed his state of dress—the shirtsleeves tucked into pantaloons, disordered, sweat-dampened hair.

Yes, he looked unacceptable. He could take a few minutes to tidy his clothes, but perhaps it was better to warn Mercy, show her exactly what he would look like for the next year or so. However long it took to bring the house up to scratch.

Only, where would he see her? None of the receiving rooms had been cleaned or contained lit fires. He hadn’t had a housekeeper in some weeks to organize a fresh cleaning of the house before Mercy became the mistress.

Colin stood, dusting off his clothes. “Where is she?”

“I’ve left her at the door, sir.”

“Outside?” Colin expostulated.

Flint did not so much as flinch. “No, sir. Inside.”

Colin started for the corridor, passing his butler. “I will go to her.” He rubbed at his forehead with the back of his sleeve, then ran his fingers through his hair for some semblance of order. He took the corner, hurrying toward the safe side of the split sweeping staircase that ended in the grand entryway, when he noticed Mercy standing at the top of it. She must have wandered up, for she waited at the double doors to the drawing room, looking at the rope tying the doorknobs together.

His boots were muffled by the carpet, so he reached Mercy’s side before she noticed him. She still wore her cloak and gloves, her bonnet covering most of her copper hair, which communicated that this was meant to be a quick visit.

“The room is unsafe to enter at present.”

She nodded, tearing her gaze from the rope. “Is the floor unstable?”

“The ceiling.”

“Oh, goodness.”

“Yes. We have a number of roof leaks, which led to rotted floors in some places and unstable ceilings beneath them.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Your chamber is now under repair, so it should be in good working order by the wedding.”

Mercy’s gaze snapped to him. Her green eyes widened imperceptibly, taking in his unkempt state. It made him feel as though garden ants crawled all over him. If only he’d taken time to straighten his cravat, at the very least. What she must think of him!

“My chamber? It sounds quite official.”

“I hope it will be.” He tried to smile at her, but couldn’t hold her gaze for long. “We’ve made a good deal of progress.”

“Lovely. I…can I see it?”

“Your chamber?”

“Yes.”

Colin could think of no reason why he shouldn’t show her. Hubble was likely in there now, so they would not be alone. Anyway, in a few short weeks they would be married .

Married .

Colin cleared his throat and gestured to the corridor on the other side of the staircase. “Right this way.”

Mercy walked by his side, past the spindled banister overlooking the entryway. He led her down the corridor, past his bedchamber and to the open door that led into her room. “This is where you will sleep. Hubble is helping with the repairs on the house.” The man stood, wiping his hands down his brown trousers. “Mr. Hubble, this is Miss Caldwell.”

“We are familiar to one another,” Mercy said, stepping into the room, her hands clasped before her. She glanced around the walls and ceiling before settling her gaze on the half-completed floor. “It looks wonderful.”

Colin rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t until this moment, with three adults stuffed into the space, that he considered just how small the room was. It was more fitting as a dressing room than a bedchamber. But it would fit a bed and provide her some privacy.

“We will return the bed before the wedding,” he said, considering the emptiness in the room. Nearly half of the floor was still missing, along with any drapes or paintings. The walls were bare. Colin’s cheeks blazed, but he pressed forward. “And a clothes press. If there is anything else you require, you need only say so.”

“I require very little, Colin.”

“Once the funds have been received and the more important repairs completed, you may decorate as you wish. I am afraid, until that point, we do not have much to spare.”

Mercy nodded, the subtle dip in her straight jaw the only sign she had heard him. She tore her eyes from the half- missing floor and swept her attention over his clothes. “Are you doing the work yourself?”

“With Hubble’s assistance, of course.” Or was it the other way round? Colin was certainly the novice, only stepping in to make the work shorter.

“Of course,” she mumbled. Shaking her head, she let out a small scoff. “I am impressed.”

Colin’s shoulder’s straightened, her astonishment infusing a rod in his spine. “It is not very difficult.”

She appraised him. “All the same, it is unexpected.”

Unexpected . He liked that. The word took root, growing like a vine within him.

Mercy bade Hubble a farewell and stepped into the corridor. Her attention snagged on the room across the corridor.

“That is the guest chamber. My mother has typically used it when she visits, but it has been a long while since she’s been here.”

Mercy nodded, turning toward the staircase, and Colin followed her.

When they reached the head of the stairs, she looked at him. “My mother sent me to invite you to dine tomorrow following church. If that is agreeable to you, she would like you to eat with us.”

“How kind of her.”

“I was hoping you would reject the invitation.”

Colin coughed. “Gads, whatever for?”

“My sister, Grace. She is determined to understand why I changed from being uninterested in a wedding to becoming engaged so swiftly. Little does she understand I have always been interested in marriage, but she won’t have anything to do with that explanation. If we’d like to avoid a barrage of questions, it is better to wait for a family dinner after we are married.”

“Why? Will she not question us after we are wed?”

“She will not be able to stop the wedding, so there will be no point.”

Colin felt like he’d waded into the River Avon and had water in his ears. “I am afraid I do not follow.”

“If Grace learns of your aunt’s will and our reason for coming to an agreement, the remainder of Millcombe will know by the end of the week. She does not have the skill of retaining confidences. I would appreciate it if she never learns of this, for I shall never hear the end of it.” Mercy looked up at him and cringed. “Oh, I’ve done it now, haven’t I?”

He blinked. “What is it you believe to have done?”

“Ruined your good opinion of me. It is prideful to care so deeply about containing this secret, I know, but when you have lived through two younger sisters’ weddings and received pity from the entire town, you will understand.”

He swallowed his amusement. Fortunately, his only sister was already married, and he’d received no censure at the time. “I am afraid I will never suffer as you have.”

Mercy looked at him sharply, narrowing her gaze. “Colin Birchall, are you laughing at me?”

Was he? It wasn’t typical of him. Now that she had mentioned it, he was far more amused than disturbed by this conversation. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

Mercy rolled her eyes and started down the stairs toward the door. “What shall I tell my mother?”

“I have no reason to refuse the invitation, Mercy,” he said gently .

“Can you not have a reasonable illness? A headache would suffice.”

“And the foresight to know my head will ache tomorrow, but not terribly enough to keep me from the service?”

She frowned. “No. I suppose that will not work.”

“I have a better idea. I will accept the invitation and you may keep me busy, so your sister will not have the opportunity to question me extensively.”

Her copper eyebrows lifted. “That could work. Do you play cards?”

“Not well.” An idea formed, and he tilted his head. “Do you enjoy riddles?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “It has been a long while since I have had time for such things. I suppose we could try to write them for one another—make a game of it?”

“It would require much concentration.” And, though she did not know this, it was a requirement of Lady Edith’s.

“Very well, Colin. We shall entertain ourselves. Thank you.” She looked up at him, gratitude shimmering in her eyes.

Mercy was really very pretty.

“Good day, Colin.”

“Good day, Mercy.” He opened the door for her, then moved to the window and watched her walk down the drive to the lane.

She was going to be his wife .

Why did his body feel light and airy at the thought?

Colin sat beside Mercy, Grace, and Mrs. Caldwell on a long, hard pew the following morning during the church service. When Mr. Caldwell stood at the pulpit and read the banns, there were audible gasps around the congregation.

Multiple whispers had begun to circulate. Colin had sensed Mercy grow still beside him. It was only gossip, and the town would soon move on to the next interesting thing, but he disliked how they felt the need to discuss him and his choices. He pressed his knee softly to Mercy’s, keeping his gaze steady on where her father stood at the head of the church.

Mercy didn’t respond in any way, vocally or physically, so Colin reclaimed his leg.

When the service ended, they were inundated with people.

“This is a surprise!”

“Goodness, Miss Caldwell, how fortunate for you.”

“Mr. Birchall has such a grand estate. However will you manage it?”

“Heavens, but this is shocking news. How very good for you, Miss Caldwell.”

Colin, it seemed, had been nearly entirely left out by the congratulating matrons and their exuberance. He followed the flow of people outside, pressing his hat on his head to fight the November wind.

Mr. Fairfax, a local gentleman who had been a friend of his father’s, approached with a pinched expression. “Marriage, eh, son?”

Colin nodded. “It was time.”

Mr. Fairfax glanced back to where Mercy stood beside her mother, wearing matching expressions of politeness, their copper hair similar but for Mrs. Caldwell’s faded color. Grace stood beside them, scowling, her freckled face pinched in annoyance .

Colin fought the urge to remove Mercy from their sides at once and shield her from the town’s matrons and her sister’s irritation. She was a grown woman and it was not yet his place to do anything of the sort. He tore his eyes from her.

“You’ve saddled yourself to a difficult family,” Mr. Fairfax said, shaking his head slightly.

Colin’s stomach clenched with the urge to defend Mercy. “Miss Caldwell is perfectly amiable and extremely well-mannered.”

“She might be, but I wish you all the luck in managing her father.” Mr. Fairfax tossed him a knowing look and pulled his daughter close to his side. “Miss Caldwell has a good deal to learn about managing such a large estate. Sophia will be all too happy to aid in whatever way she can, should Miss Caldwell require assistance.”

Since Sophia had been the only woman in her house for the last decade after her mother had died from scarlet fever, she was very likely qualified for such a thing. The girl was a bit ridiculous and snobbish, but Colin wouldn’t refuse Mercy the help should she wish for it. “Thank you. That is very kind. I will keep it in mind.”

The rest of the congregation appeared to have more to say to the Caldwells than to Colin. He edged his way closer, watching Mercy answer questions and listen to the matrons with equanimity and poise. She nodded politely, her face a mask of interest. But when her eyes flicked his way, he saw the strain. Should he pull her away? Surely he could ask if she’d like to walk to the vicarage together?

“There is no shame in it, Mercy,” Mrs. Brooks said, her eyes round as saucers. “We are all so glad you finally found a husband. Some of us feared it would never happen, but alas, Mr. Birchall has rescued you.”

Mercy’s face was a work of stone—granite, given her freckles. “Thank you, Mrs. Brooks. That is kind of you to say.”

Kind? Was Mercy in earnest? Colin’s stomach swirled. Was this how all the women in the parish felt? How everyone spoke to her?

Mrs. Brooks wasn’t finished. “You must know it is not too late to be a mother, Mercy. Betty Albright did not have children until she was thirty, and she managed to have four.”

Colin stepped into the woman’s line of sight, setting his eyes on Mercy. “I was hoping to walk you home, Miss Caldwell, if it is agreeable to you.”

“That would be lovely.” She smiled kindly at the red-faced matron. “Good day, Mrs. Brooks.”

Colin took her hand and rested it on his arm before pulling her away from the gaggle of women waiting to speak to her. “Are they always such vultures?”

“Count yourself fortunate you have not earned their exuberant felicitations.”

“I do,” he said emphatically. “It almost makes me wish we’d gone the route of a special license and bypassed including Millcombe in the ordeal at all.”

They reached the door to the vicarage and paused on the front step. “Only two more Sundays and we can be married,” she said.

Colin glanced down at her weary face and felt it was more of a trial than he had imagined. “It is not too late to abolish the agreement.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you wish to? ”

“I wish to continue as planned, but if this arrangement has caused you undue stress?—”

“Worry not for my health, Colin. I am perfectly capable of managing the Millcombe matrons.”

He hoped it was not wrong to take her at her word. “Very well. Shall we write ourselves some riddles?”

“Indeed.” Mercy opened the door and led him inside.