Cecily left her then and in doing so missed the fiery blush that washed over Arabella’s face. She was a virgin—although she’d been married for enough years to make that fact ridiculous. When she’d taken her vows, she’d meant every word. She’d hoped Farnsworth might have grown kinder, at least somewhat fond of her, but he’d passed away and she was the same as the day she married. There was nothing she could do to change that fact now. Farnsworth would pack her off to the country as soon as Cecily was wed, and her hopes for the season were impossible. Whatever plans Cecily was making would be in vain. She had no one to turn to but friends and they were all in the country.

Cecily retrieved a sealed square of paper from the depths of a drawer and then rang for a servant while Arabella looked on grimly. As the girl handed the note over to the maid they shared, she pressed a shilling into her hand. “It’s time, Hill.”

The maid bobbed a curtsey, bounced on the balls of her feet somewhat excitedly, and then left as if the devil was chasing her. Arabella rubbed her brow. Was there any use in trying to rein the girl in and get her to think of making the best of her future? But she was just as stubborn as her father. Standing between the two was such a strain.

When Cecily pulled a worn portmanteau from beneath the bed, alarm bells rang in Arabella’s mind. “What are you doing?”

Cecily sized her up and Arabella broke out in a cold sweat.

Her niece smiled sweetly. “The only thing I can. I’m eloping with Laurie.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Family was the curse of Merrick’s existence. He studied the two men seated opposite him and did his best to control his irritation at finding them in his home. The arrival of his Ford cousins always heralded trouble. Holland might have managed to send this pair away if he had not been already off on an errand.

And the pair had interrupted his pleasant fantasy of making love to Arabella in a greenhouse filled with orchids and tall palms. He couldn’t ever have her in such an intimate setting, but he’d indulged himself and imagined it anyway.

“I say, Rothwell, are you even listening to us?” Captain Fredrick Ford grumbled.

Such interruptions were not to be borne with any form of good grace and certainly not for a wedding invitation to Newberry Park, home to generations of meddling Fords and the last place on earth Merrick wished to go. He reluctantly focused on his cousins. “I have no interest in attending.”

“He says you have to come or the wedding cannot proceed,” Fredrick whined.

Merrick raised a brow in disbelief. “For God’s sake, man, it’s your own wedding. Tell His Grace you’ll surrender to the enemy or something equally horrifying and he’ll forget about my absence simply to avoid the scandal. You’ll get her dowry one way or the other.”

Their mutual grandfather, the Duke of Rutherford, was as difficult as all the rest and used his rank and influence to intimidate even his own family. Arranging marriages to suit his needs was high on his list of priorities. Fredrick was the first of their generation to succumb to the pressure of the shackle being secured about his leg.

Fredrick frowned. “Do you not wish to meet my bride?”

“I think it more important that you meet her. How long have you known her, anyway? A bare month at most?” Merrick shrugged away his disgust. Marriages made in haste always ended badly. “I’ll see her after the event when you’ve returned from sea and you both come up to Town.”

And if it took a considerable amount of time to arrange that meeting, he would not be discontent. The less time he spent with his cousins, the better. They had nosy, prying natures. Every last one. Only a fool or a Ford relation would disturb a man before one in the afternoon.

Captain Quinn Ford, Viscount Maitland and heir to the ducal estate after his father’s passing, lifted Merrick’s most prized orchid from the corner of the desk and studied it closely. “Sally is counting on you to come. She’s in a complete snit about Freddy bowing to the arrangement as it is.”

Merrick retrieved the temperamental orchid as Quinn started to pitch it from side to side as if measuring how it would fare aboard his ship. “Your sister has cause to disagree with the appeal of an arranged marriage.”

Deprived of his amusement, Quinn sprawled in his chair as if he would never leave. “Sally is long over her disappointment, I assure you.”

Merrick closed his eyes briefly. Did Quinn really not understand the cruel damage done to Quinn’s sister’s heart from her own aborted match? Not for one moment did he think Sally had forgotten that on the eve of her wedding, she had discovered her intended was marrying her for the guaranteed promotion it would offer him in his career. Such a disappointment would not go away so easily.

When Merrick had come upon Sally soon after, he’d calmed her down and then had the chore of ensuring her former intended suffered just enough for breaking her heart rather than the Ford cousins killing him. That was the last time he’d involved himself in Ford affairs. He was in no rush to return to the family fold to continue old bad habits.

When he opened his eyes again, Quinn held out a folded parchment document. “His Grace sent this for you. If it’s like ours, you might want to burn it before opening. It contains a special license. He’s determined to have us all married before the year is out.”

His cousin placed the parchment on his desk and Merrick stared at it, cursing his grandfather’s meddling but rather impressed in turn. When he did decide on which woman he wanted to marry, the whole business could be concluded at their own convenience.

He smiled serenely. Since he had a special license in his possession now, it wouldn’t do him any good to leave London. “Give my best to your mother and sisters when you return to Essex.”

Fredrick stood scowling, hearing the unspoken “please leave” in his words.

Quinn scowled too but shook his head stubbornly. “We’ll see you soon.”

To make sure they left, Merrick escorted them all the way to the front door. He raked a hand through his hair when he was alone again—the unopened parchment at the forefront of his mind. He picked it up and then unfolded the paper. It was a special license and came without a bride’s name upon it. He smiled. At least his grandfather had left the choice of bride open for him to decide. Now he had all that was needed to make the match he wanted.

A scratch on the door drew his attention from the paper. “Come.”

Holland eased inside the room. “Excuse the interruption, my lord, but Lieutenant Ford followed me home. Laurence, that is, and he is most insistent in speaking with you without delay now his brothers have gone.”

Merrick groaned. What the devil did that foolish young man want now? Since he was already disturbed, he decided he might as well add one more annoyance to his morning. “Oh, show him in. Show everyone in. I simply do not care anymore.”

Holland hurried off and returned a moment later with his young cousin hard on his heels. “I need your advice,” Laurence exclaimed even before Holland had completely departed the room.

Merrick waited until the door closed and he could no longer hear footsteps in the hall beyond. “You had sufficient assistance last night. I told you what you needed to do.”

Laurence raked his fingers through his untidy hair. “It didn’t work. He would not hear me out. In fact, I think Lord Farnsworth laughed at me.”

Merrick gritted his teeth. No matter how much he detested the Fords, he would not bear the insult delivered to his cousin with any form of good grace. Laurence had an earnestness of youth that was refreshingly childlike. That was why Merrick was against any alliance with Farnsworth’s daughter in truth. Laurie would not bear the connection well until perhaps he had matured enough to stand up to such a man.