Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(3)

Arabella lifted a brow. “A vow?”

“Yes, a vow. We swear to remain spinsters for all our lives. Instead of worrying about men, we shall occupy ourselves with our hobbies, our friends, and our families.” She paused and glanced at Bella. “That is, if we wish,” she added. Bella’s five brothers tormented her to no end and were notoriously awful people. No doubt she would not wish to devote any more time to them than she had to. Sophia had married young to escape them, but her marriage had been no better.

“I have no desire to marry again anyway. One arranged match is enough for me, and I can look after myself now that I am independently wealthy.” Sophia stood. “I’m willing to take that vow.” She looked at Arabella. “And you know I can look after you too. You need never marry.”

“I shall inherit a small sum one day,” Merry confirmed. “I have no need of a husband if I live frugally.” They all looked to Bella.

She swung her gaze between them then stood. “Well, I am not so sure how I shall look after myself, but I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s a deal then.” Merry put out her hand. “We will remain spinsters, no matter what life puts in our way. Should any of us ever be tempted by men, we vow to protect each other.”

Everyone nodded and thrust out their hands. Bella paused and drew back her hand. “We should make a blood oath.”

Arabella scowled. “A blood oath? I am certainly not slicing open my hand.”

“Very well, we shall spit on our hands then. Seal the deal like men.” Bella spat on her hand and thrust it out.

With a shrug, Sophia did the same. Merry rolled her eyes and followed suit, eyeing Arabella. “Well?”

“Oh, very well then.” Arabella spat on her hand and thrust it into the middle. They placed their hands one on top of the other. Arabella made a sound of disgust.

Merry wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore the rather wet sensation. “We do solemnly vow to remain spinsters, and to protect one another from anything or anyone who might cause us physical or emotional harm. We shall ignore the opposite sex and devote our time to our own passions and sisterhood.” She looked around at her friends. “Will that do?”

“Yes.” Arabella tugged her hand away and pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve to wipe her hand. “If you ever tell anyone we did that, I shall disown you all as friends.”

Bella chuckled and sat. “You wouldn’t dare. You love us too much.”

“Perhaps,” Arabella conceded, lowering herself onto the chair.

“Arabella has a point though. We must keep these vows a secret. No one can know of our Spinster Club,” Merry ordered.

“Is that what we are now? A spinster club?” Sophia asked.

“Yes.” Merry gave a decisive nod. “We are the Spinster Club. And we do not talk about the Spinster Club to anyone, do we all understand?”





Chapter One





Smiling to himself, Harcourt took long strides up toward the large expanse of grassland that surrounded Whitely Grange. Trees dotted the land at random intervals, but he was only interested in one tree.

Or to be more precise, one woman who happened to be sitting underneath said tree. She did not notice him approach even though he made no secret of striding up the slope to join her. Merry’s head was dipped low, a book clasped in her hands, her knees drawn up to act as a book rest. He had no doubt there would be furrows between her brows as she studied the words with precision. He’d never met a woman who could get so lost in books.

He came to a stop only a few feet from her. Sure enough, there were the furrows. He grinned to himself. Her lips were pursed, and she chewed on the end of her thumb. He could not make out the title of the book but no doubt it was some Greek myth or tragedy. If he did not know better, he’d have assumed Merry was born with a book in hand. Her obsession with Greek myths had given him plenty to tease her over these past years.

When she did not lift her head, he moved himself deliberately, sidestepping until his body blocked the sun and cast a shadow across her book. She ignored him, her focus entirely on the book. He studied her boldly, hands clasped behind his back.

At around eighteen, Merry had grown into a fully-fledged woman. He still recalled her birthday and the strange awakening it created in him. Merry was no longer his closest friend’s sister. She was a woman. The realization had sent him reeling. He’d grown a little more accustomed to it now and at the age of twenty, so had she. Gone were the awkward braids that made her look like a child, and she dressed with a subtle feminine flair that he doubted was deliberate. With her inky black hair twisted up, delicate curls escaped and touched her neck. When she unpinned it, it would be a riot of curls—something she complained about frequently. His fingers twitched. What would she do if he just leaned in and plucked those pins away to send it spilling all over?

Shoot him a look that would kill probably.

He coughed and rocked on his heels. Merry flicked a page and he saw her gaze whisk over the words. He pressed his lips together. She must have seen him by now. Even she could not be that absorbed in a book. The minx was simply playing with him. He coughed again.

Her gaze remained on the book. “That’s a terrible cough you have there, Harry. I think you should see a doctor.”

“I could probably drop dead right here, and you would not notice.”