Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(25)

“You must be blind, Merry,” Sophia said. “He is one of the most handsome men around here.”

Merry looked at Sophia. “He has been friends with Daniel for a long time. It is hard to think of him as anything other than...a...a brother.”

Bella giggled. “A handsome brother. A handsome, gentlemanly brother. How lucky you are to have him help you. I swear he is a much better man than most.”

“He is a rake,” pointed out Merry.

“He was a rake,” Arabella corrected. Everyone peered at her. “What? I do listen to gossip occasionally. Mama says he is practically reformed, and that he has not taken any...lovers for some time.”

Sophia nodded. “It’s true, and you know Mama is never wrong in her gossip.”

Merry drew in a breath. She preferred not to think of Harry’s lovers. She’d known for some time—since she’d been old enough to understand really—that women adored Harry and he liked them too. But he never liked the same one more than once. His string of liaisons was as long as her bonnet ribbon. simply because Sophia and Arabella’s mother said he was changed, did not mean anything.

Did it?

“Once a rake, always a rake,” Merry declared, unsure if she was announcing it to her friends or herself. “We must guard ourselves, ladies. Despite all we know to be true about men, we are still too trusting. Remember our vows.”

And she would remember them too. Especially next time she was around Harry.





Chapter Eleven





Harcourt smiled to himself. He’d know those wild black curls anywhere, even when tucked under a bonnet that was trying to escape in the breeze that whipped through the village today. Being on the coast of England was pleasant most of the time but it did mean being exposed to the wrath of the weather sometimes. He imagined Merry did not much appreciate it at present.

“That’s the one with the dower house, is it not?” asked Griff.

“It is indeed.”

“Too pretty to turn into a spinster already.”

Harcourt clenched his jaw. “Stay away from her, Griff, she’s far too good for you.”

His friend lifted a brow. “I shouldn’t worry. Your mother shall have me married and siring an heir within the month.”

Chuckling, Harcourt paused by the old fountain. “That would make both of us.”

“But you’re not interested in being attached to just any woman, are you, Easton?” Harcourt swung a look at his friend who laughed. “I am not blind. Your preference for the spinster girl is obvious.”

Harcourt watched Merry turn to speak to someone in the shop—the carpenter he assumed, given she had stepped out of his workshop—then made her way down the slope of the road in his direction. The wind lifted her bonnet and she was too late to grab it. He heard a soft curse come from her that made his grin expand. The errant headwear flew from her head, straight toward him. Harcourt made a grab for it and snatched it by its flailing ribbons.

She hastened over, and he handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, crushing it on top of those crazed curls. She tied the ribbon beneath her chin. “I wish this wind would leave us be. It has been like this for days.”

He rather liked the wind—or at least the effect it had on Merry. It put color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes, not to mention it sent strands of hair shimmering down her neck, touching it softly like a lover would. His fingers tingled at the very idea. Instead, he reached out and tightened the ribbon beneath her chin. Her pupils dilated. A tiny flourish of triumph lit inside him. He was a patient man and was willing to be endlessly patient when it came to Merry, but these tiny moments served to seal his determination. Whatever it was preventing Merry from seeing how amazing they could be together, he’d defeat it.

“Are you enjoying your stay here, my lord?” she asked Griff.

“I am indeed. It is quite refreshing to be away from London, and there is a lot more to entertain than I realized.” Griff’s gaze lit upon something behind Merry and he tipped his hat. “If you will excuse me, I see someone I must speak with.”

Merry’s gaze tracked Griff as he went over to speak to a group of ladies. Her expression soured. “He shall end up scandalizing one of them.”

“Griff is a handful, but my mother is doing a marvelous job of keeping him occupied. Seems she thinks a bride from Lulworth would be perfect for him.”

“I doubt a man like that has any desire to marry.”

“You would be surprised. We men have been known to change our minds when the right woman comes along.”

“I haven’t seen you for a few days,” she said, the color in her cheeks deepening.

“Did you miss me?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “I mean...” She frowned and twirled a finger in the bonnet ribbon.

He chuckled. “So you did?”

“I was just wondering what you had been doing, that is all.”

“My mother has kept my occupied.”

“I’m surprised she has returned at the height of summer.”

“She seems to think I need her.”

“It must be nice to have her home, but I am certain she knows you can look after yourself.”

“One would think so, yes, but I think she has another purpose for coming home. It is not just Griff she is determined to see wed.”