Merrick reached across the table slapped Hastings’s shoulder. His friend had never forgiven himself for losing the woman he loved, and Merrick admired him for that. “I’ve given orders for a swift return, but there is always a chance of mishap on the road. I want to ask you not to declare him absent if such a situation delays him. He has no intention of deserting his position, I promise you.”

“The correct term is run. How can you not know that given your grandfather was a distinguished admiral, your uncle a rear admiral, and every one of your male cousins an officer of the navy?”

“I stopped listening to the admiral, and the rest of them, quite some time ago.”

“I wish we all had that luxury.” Hastings smiled ruefully. “You know, I have often wished we’d been family. I could do with a man like you in my corner. All I have is rusticating Rupert, and he is no help at all. Ready to believe the worst of a man and ally himself with your enemies.”

“I saw him a few weeks ago. He’s rounder, by the way.” Merrick laughed. “Besides, you would not want me for a relation. I do more for my friends than for family anyway.”

Hastings paused with his cup in midair. “Does that not go against the family motto: family first?”

“The full Ford family motto is a bit longer than that. Never admit fault, always repay in kind, family first. Luckily, I’m not truly a Ford. Only a half-serve was dealt me. A flaw in the makeup of my character I can embrace wholeheartedly. I chose to help only where needed.”

“The lad is your cousin.”

“Yes.”

A grin tugged the corners of Hastings’s mouth. “So family first would seem to apply.”

“Not in this case.” Merrick was doing this to protect Arabella. Mostly. “Perhaps there was a little revenge in my decision, but my reasons are my own and I’ll not share them.”

“You have more secrets than a Catholic priest at confession.” Hastings sat back, scowling. “Well, let us hope he’s not made a rash decision. I’ve some leeway in my orders, but not more than a day or two.”

“Thank you.” Merrick eyed his friend’s pale complexion. “How have you been?”

“Much the same. A skirmish or two, but no prize to add to my distinction.” His eyes grew unfocused. “And you?”

“The same for the most part.” He leaned forward. “Since you are not here for long, I should mention I’m going to take a wife this season.”

Hastings blinked. “Dear God, why?”

“For many reasons. The succession is one.”

“Love?”

A vision of Arabella flittered through his mind and he swallowed. “If I am in luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with love, but I will wish you well in finding the right woman.” Hastings chewed his lower lip and fiddled with his cup. “How is she?”

Hastings could only mean one woman. Merrick’s cousin, Lady Sally Ford. The woman whose heart Hastings had broken. “I imagine as irritated as ever. Freddy is to be married. Rutherford arranged it.” He shrugged. “I have not spoken with Sally this season. She’s still in the country, no doubt making sure this event takes place without a hitch.”

Hastings wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “When you see her, be sure to pass along my compliments.”

“I’ll consider it, though there is every chance she will shoot the messenger.”

Hastings glanced at the tables around them. “She won’t shoot you. You were her champion—the one who beat me bloody for hurting her—remember?”

“Better my fists than her brother’s plans.” Merrick grimaced at the memory. “They would have keelhauled you if they’d gotten to you first.”

“True.” Hastings agreed with a heavy sigh.

He leaned closer to Hastings, noting the sweat on his brow and the tiredness of his eyes. “I say, are you sure you’re at all well?”

“It’s nothing. Just a chill.” Hastings wiped his brow with a handkerchief, one that might once have been pristine but now resembled a rag. “Now, if the matter that brought me here is concluded, I’ll be on my way. That bed I found is calling me back to it.”

“Is there a woman in that bed?”

“You know me, I never carry tales.”

Although Merrick grinned at the reminder of Hastings’s secretive ways, he was a little worried about his friend. Hastings was rarely unwell. Perhaps a bed was exactly what he needed. “Enjoy your rest and take care of yourself, Captain. Perhaps I will see you again if you have the time during your leave.”

“I’d like that, but the Admiralty will need my ship at the ready soon.” Hastings collected his bicorne and then sauntered out, leaving Merrick to finish his coffee alone. Poor bloody Hastings. He’d had happiness snatched from his grasp and suffered the consequences even now for a decision he hadn’t made.

As Merrick sat there thinking about love and the ramifications of foolish choices and mistakes, he decided an ability to forgive might be desired in a spouse. He’d had a lot of lovers in the past, most of whom he was still on good terms with. He should not like any misunderstandings to take place simply because some woman had touched him intimately once and his new wife learned of it and didn’t like that fact.

He threw some money on the table for the proprietor and wandered out. At this time of the day, he was often at loose ends. Most of his unattached friends were still abed and did not like to be disturbed. The married ones were with their wives, and he didn’t like to intrude upon them. A pity Hastings had run off so soon. But that waiting bed might be just the thing for the man.

Merrick waved for his coachman to bring up the barouche and join him before the coffee house. “I’m bored. Take me somewhere interesting, Jimmy.”

The wiry man at the reins scratched his head, sparing a glance for the overcast sky. “It won’t rain yet, but it might soon. Green Park, milord?”

“Yes, that will do as well as any place, I suppose.” No excitement possible so close to home, but at least there was something of nature to be seen. “I might even stretch my legs for a bit and inspect the progress made on the temple.”

The Temple of Concord was to be the centerpiece of the Prince Regent’s celebrations in a few months’ time. Merrick had developed the habit of noting the progress, or lack thereof, since he’d come up to Town.

“Very good, milord.”

As the reins cracked over the horses, Merrick settled against the squabs and considered how the family might be taking the news of Laurence’s disappearance so far. He hoped they were running around in circles trying to find him. With luck, and good speed, his cousin and his love would be well underway on their adventure. The thought gave him a great sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t every day he got a little revenge on the family for their adherence to an antiquated code of ethics.

Fords did not always come first. Sometimes it was better to put the needs of others ahead of self-interest.

When they reached the park, his driver skillfully pulled up under the shade of an overhanging branch and tied off the horses. “Should I wait for you here?”

He smiled. “No. Return to the house and let Holland know where I am. I’ll walk back directly.”

He headed toward the construction site, pondering how far they’d progressed since his last stroll past. As he approached a black poplar, a scrap of light green muslin against the gnarled bark caught his eye. When he was level with the spot, he found the scrap actually belonged to the walking dress Arabella was wearing. “Lady Farnsworth?”

She sagged against the tree and then peeked at him from beneath a large-brimmed bonnet trimmed with ribbon, her smile hesitant. “Oh, thank heavens it’s you. I thought for a moment that Farnsworth had found me.”

“You thought I was Farnsworth?” Merrick glanced down at his olive-green waistcoat and coat in disappointment. “I really must speak to my tailor.”

“No, no.” She waved her gloved hand about and laughed. “I saw the carriage and a tall man step out and hid immediately just in case. There is nothing lacking in your attire, sir. As always, you appear very distinguished.”