Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Colin stood in the antechamber to the dining room and checked his pocket watch. Five minutes until six o’clock. Had he not been clear about his expectations? It was not as though he was an unreasonable man. Mercy had plenty of time to dress and be at dinner on time.

He had always been of the opinion that those who cared little for being punctual also cared little for other people. It was far more selfish to be consistently late than it was to simply make an effort to be where one was meant to be when one promised to be there.

Colin looked at his watch again. Three minutes until six o’clock now. He snapped it closed and pushed the door open. Dinner would begin on time whether?—

“I am here!” Mercy said, pushing through the other door into the dining room and nearly running into him. She pulled herself up in time to avoid a collision, brushing a loose curl from her temple.

It had been a surprise when Lucas had returned from his errand with the Turners’ niece, but if she was willing to accept the position so quickly, he had no qualms with bringing her on. Clearly the new maid had spent an exceptional amount of time on Mercy’s hair, because it was put up and curled with far more effort than he’d seen from her before, even on their wedding day.

Colin would be lying if he tried to pretend she did not look equally exceptional then and now. Mercy was beautiful, regardless of what she wore. Tonight, she was stunning, but he wondered if it had less to do with her coiffure and everything to do with her rosy cheeks and shimmery eyes.

“Forgive me, Colin,” she breathed. Her chest heaved as though she’d run all the way to the dining room. Perhaps she had. “Dorothy had trouble with my hair, and…” Her voice trailed off when she caught his eye. She seemed to shrink to silence, her brightness dimming.

Oh, blast it all. Did he look annoyed? Colin quickly smoothed his countenance into one of vague interest. He had to admit he was touched by her effort. She must have noticed the time and hurried.

Colin gestured to the table. “Shall we sit and you can tell me all about it?”

“I needn’t do that,” she said, following him to the table and letting him push her chair in. She looked up at him, her freckled nose wrinkling slightly. “I am sorry for my tardiness.”

When she looked at him like that, it was impossible to remain irritated. “How did you spend your afternoon?”

She focused on the plate in front of her as Molly brought in the food.

Footmen. Colin needed footmen above all other things. He was certain his housemaid was tired of serving meals. She had been moved to the responsibility last year—she would undoubtedly appreciate resuming her normal duties and nothing more.

“I was in the library,” Mercy finally said. “Tell me, have you solved the riddle?”

Colin noted that his knife was askew and straightened it. His mind had been on other things and he hadn’t, in truth, devoted much time at all to her riddle. “Not yet. My hands move, but I cannot clap…what is the rest of it?”

“My hands are ever-moving, but I cannot clap,” Mercy said. “I have a face, but I cannot speak. I hang at the ready. What am I?”

Many things had faces but did not speak. But hands ever-moving? Fish never ceased to swim, and they seem to hang at the ready for a hook and some bait. “A fish?” he asked.

“Fish don’t have hands.” She spooned potatoes onto her plate.

He laughed. “I suppose not.”

“I would think this is something you’d have guessed straight away,” she said absently.

So it was an item he used regularly? Something he liked?

The way Mercy was looking very entertained, he imagined it was extremely obvious.

“It will come to me,” he said.

“How is your hand?” she asked, reaching for the plate of ham and taking a piece. She set the serving fork down, leaning it against the plate’s edge.

Colin stretched his palm, turning it over to see the little knot she’d tied in his wrapping. “Honestly, it feels sorer than I had anticipated. I expect it to heal quickly, though. It was not a very deep cut.” He reached for the serving fork she had set down and moved it so it rested along the plate without the potential of falling .

Mercy eyed him.

He said nothing. It wasn’t wrong to save Molly from even more work. The fork had rested precariously on the edge, about to fall and splatter everywhere.

Colin would not be made to feel ridiculous for correcting it. Though he didn’t think that was Mercy’s intention, he could feel how little she understood his intent.

They finished the meal mostly in silence, the stilted conversation either of them attempted not growing or expanding into comfortable chatter. It was far different from the dinners they’d shared the last few nights. Despite the strangeness between them now, he felt they could return to their comfortable companionship. He needed to try harder.

When his plate was cleared, Colin removed his pocket watch and checked the time. “Shall we—” Wait . He looked at his watch again, at the hands that moved across the face, then lifted his gaze. “The riddle answer. It is a watch?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling brightly and rising from her seat. “Well done.”

“Thank you.” He worked his jaw, rising beside her. He offered his arm. “Would you care to join me in the library? Molly has undoubtedly built the fire up, so I imagine it is warm.”

Mercy looked at him for a long beat. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“You can write another riddle for me,” he said, glad when she took his arm. He liked the weight of her hand on him, the steady reminder he was no longer alone in this house.

She smiled prettily up at him. His stomach constricted, thinking again of how her delicate and capable hands had felt when she had tended to his wound. “On the contrary, Colin. This time, it is your turn to write a riddle for me.”

The following morning, Mercy visited her father and provided him with the list of servants they needed at Winterbourne. He had come through with exceptional speed, as she’d expected him to. Within a day he had sent a housemaid and two footmen to Winterbourne for interviews. Mercy had handled the questioning, alongside Flint, and she found all three servants to be perfectly acceptable. Flint, it seemed, was in agreement.

“Have you heard news of any housekeepers?” she asked when they left the new footmen, Lewis and Duncan, in their rooms to unpack their things.

“Not yet, madam, but I think it will take time to find a capable person for the role. If the vicar does not know of someone, I can place an advertisement.”

“That might be best.”

Flint’s white eyebrows rose. “We could be waiting on an answer from London, if Bath has no reputable women available. A good housekeeper is not easy to come by.”

Mercy swallowed her amusement at the gravity in his words. “Winterbourne has managed for this long without one. Between Mrs. Johns and myself, I think we can supervise until the position is filled.”

Flint, for all his stateliness, did not seem to love this plan, but he conceded.

“Will you tell me where I might find Mr. Birchall?”

“In his study, madam,” Flint said.

“Thank you.” She left the butler and went in search of her husband. It was not until she was in the middle of meeting with the maid earlier that morning that the answer to Colin’s latest riddle had come to her.

It should have been obvious sooner. He had written it while they were sitting together in the library after dinner, for heaven’s sake.

She knocked at his study door and he bade her enter. “Good day, Colin,” she said, moving into the room.

He stood, waiting for her to approach. His brown hair was styled perfectly, his brown coat fastened neatly over a bronze waistcoat. Did the man ever look anything less than pristine? It was an admirable feat, particularly now that she knew he didn’t have a valet.

It occurred to her that a valet was not on the list of servants she had provided for her father, either. Did Colin not wish to employ one?

“What can I do for you?” he asked pleasantly. His eyes swept over her once before returning to her face.

She faltered. Was she bothering him? She had yet to seek him out like this, and it felt strange. He watched her expectantly, however, so she had no choice but to proceed. “I have the answer to your riddle.”

He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “By all means.”

“Silent teacher, quiet friend, sharing wisdom without end. What am I?” She recited the riddle while settling in the seat. “Books.”

“Well done,” he said. “I thought you might have figured that out straight away.”

“I should have. We were surrounded by the evidence when you first gave it to me. ”

“Sometimes I think we search for obscure answers when really it is plainly obvious.”

“We make things more difficult than they need to be, certainly.”

Something in his expression quirked, but he was unable to reply as a knock came at the door.

“Enter,” Colin said.

Flint pushed the door open. “You have visitors, sir.”

“Who is it?”

“Miss Fairfax and her companion, Mrs. Kline.”

Not Mercy’s favorite people to chat with. Until their wedding, Miss Fairfax had made no secret of her wish to court Colin. The three of them together would be nothing short of uncomfortable.

“You may inform them that we are not home to visitors,” Colin said.

“Colin, why?” Mercy asked. She did not wish to meet with the ladies either, but she couldn’t fathom his reason for sending them away.

His hazel eyes were dismissive. “I don’t have the time or the patience for mindless chatter.”

“They are likely here for a bride visit. I’ve yet to receive any of those, you know.”

“Probably because you’ve lived in Millcombe your entire life and the matrons know you exceedingly well.”

“It is still the done thing to visit a bride after her marriage,” Mercy argued. “Though I expect they are waiting until January to provide us with time to settle in.”

“I imagine so,” he agreed. Silence sat between them for a few more beats on the clock before he continued. “Might I send them away, then, or would you like to speak to them? ”

Goodness, the man was obtuse. Mercy could have screamed into a pillow. She could not fathom a reasonable excuse to ignore the visitors, so she looked at Flint. “I will see them. Will you put them in the morning room?” She did not believe there was another place they could visit, truthfully. Not with the drawing room ceiling being a danger.

“Of course, madam.”

“You needn’t do this, you know,” Colin said.

“I will inform Miss Fairfax you are dealing with estate business, but she will be sorely disappointed.”

He looked taken aback by this. “Whatever for?”

“It is you she has come to see. Did you not notice how Flint mentioned you have visitors?”

“He meant both of us.”

“Miss Fairfax certainly didn’t,” she muttered, rising from her seat.

“What do you mean by that?” He stood, coming around the desk to walk her to the door.

“Nothing.” She smiled brightly.

Colin took her hand. “Mercy, what did you mean by that?”

She searched his hazel eyes but only found worry. Was he truly so blind? It would do no one any favors to bring up a past infatuation—something over which they had no control. She moved to walk away.

He held fast. “Is there history here I should be apprised of?”

“It is shocking to me you do not already know.” She could see he didn’t intend to let the matter drop. Sighing, she looked to the ceiling, then back to Colin, unable to ignore his skin on hers where he still held her hand. “Miss Fairfax has spent the last few years making her interest in you widely known. If it escaped your notice, then I cannot credit how.”

His brow drew into confusion. “She has always been friendly.”

“To you, yes,” Mercy said. “It is not me she has come to see.”

“Ah.” His expression cleared. “You are not friends?”

“Perhaps we could be in the future,” she said, though she harbored little hope for that. Miss Fairfax had never made her disdain for the Caldwell family a secret. She and her father were of the faction who did not approve of Mercy’s father.

Mercy pulled her hand free and started walking away when Colin stopped her. “Shall I come with you?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, noting how handsome he looked, even with the frown marring his forehead. It was no wonder Miss Fairfax had tried to make him consider her as a potential wife for so long. He was thoughtful, considerate, the owner of a beautiful—if broken—country estate, and he was exceedingly attractive.

Mercy shook her head. “I can see her alone.”

Colin took her at her word, and she went off to find Miss Fairfax and Mrs. Kline. They were waiting on the sofa in the morning room, looking about the place with barely concealed interest. Miss Fairfax’s gaze snapped to Mercy before lingering on the doorway behind her.

The woman had most definitely hoped to see Colin.

“Good day,” Mercy said, shoving her unruly jealousy aside. Miss Fairfax was beautiful, with round blue eyes and clear pale skin—not a freckle in sight. If Colin had been more aware of her interest in him, would he have proposed to her instead?

Mercy put the thought aside. It would do no good to focus on such things now.

“Mr. Birchall is seeing to estate business,” she said by way of explanation when it was clear Miss Fairfax was still anticipating his arrival.

“Pity.”

“How are you settling in, Mrs. Birchall?” Mrs. Kline asked, her wrinkled hands folded primly on her lap. Was it in Mercy’s imagination, or had Miss Fairfax flinched?

“It is an adjustment, to be sure. The servants have been a great help, though. I am very grateful for their guidance.”

“Well, if you need help learning how to manage an estate of this size, I am more than happy to offer my advice,” Miss Fairfax said. “I have been doing it myself for a number of years now.”

“Yes, that would be very kind.”

Miss Fairfax rose, taking her companion by surprise.

Mercy, however, was not in the least puzzled by this premature departure. Miss Fairfax had come to Winterbourne for one man only, and he was not here.

“I’m afraid we cannot visit for long,” she said with a saccharine smile. “We’ll return another time.”

Mercy rose. “That would be lovely.” She kept her smile in place as she walked her guests to the door, hoping beyond all reason Colin would remain sequestered in his study until they were out of sight. She felt her hold on her relationship with him was still tenuous, and Miss Fairfax did not seem inclined to respect their marital vows—not when she came so intent on seeing him.

Mercy closed the door behind them and sighed. Perhaps next time she would take a page from Colin’s book and refuse to see them.

Only, she knew it wasn’t in her nature to turn people away. She would have to hope Miss Fairfax would give up on her own.