Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(38)

The town was not as crowded as London but nor was it designed to house as many visitors as it did. The streets were narrow, only allowing for a single carriage to pass and stalls were set up on street corners, forcing pedestrians onto the busy road. He stopped by a stall selling hot crumpets and scanned the crossroads. There were plenty of women in bonnets and pretty gowns, but his gaze landed upon two women—one in color and the other in black.

He picked up the pace and hastened after them as they entered a small park through iron gates. He saw Merry talking animatedly to Sophia without any care for her surroundings.

Scowling, he moved into a quick stride. Damn the woman. She should be paying more attention. While she and her friend strolled along the pathway between two lawns, Harcourt could see a man following behind them, his clothes ragged and his manner suspicious. The man paused briefly to see if there was anyone else in the park.

Harcourt started to run but the busy paths made it hard to catch up with Merry and he knocked into several people and was nearly struck by a carriage. He pushed past a large man, muttering a quick apology, his gaze set on the man following Merry.

His heart lifted up into his throat as the man approached. He grabbed Merry’s arm and she turned. The sunlight caught a glint of something. His blood ran cold.

A knife.

Shoving through a couple strolling arm in arm, he raced toward the park, turning the corner and shoving through the iron gates. “You there!” he bellowed.

The man twisted, his eyes widening under a floppy hat, then pushed past Merry. He raced down the path and darted in between the trees. Harry hurried up to the women and grabbed Merry’s arm.

“Are you well?” He sucked in a breath. “Did he hurt you?”

“I-I-I am well.” Her skin was ashen.

He looked to the trees. No doubt whoever he was knew the town better than Harcourt and would be long gone.

“And you, Miss Sophia?” he asked.

She straightened. “I am fine. He seemed more interested in Merry.” She wrapped an arm around Merry’s shoulders. “Goodness, I never thought we would be victim of a robbery in a town like this.”

“Was that what he wanted?” demanded Harcourt. “To rob you.”

Merry shook her head. “He never said. He just pulled out his knife then ran off as soon as he heard you shouting.”

Harcourt’s heart stilled. This right after the near carriage accident. This was no coincidence. “Did you get a good look at him? Was he scrawny?”

“I suppose.” Merry glanced at Sophia.

“I was too busy looking at the knife,” Sophia confessed.

“Old?” he asked.

Sophia shrugged. “A little old I suppose. Dark hair.”

Then it was not the same person who had been at the dower house. But he did not think the carriage driver had been either. Whatever this was, there was more than one person involved in trying to harm Merry. Somehow, he was going to have to discover what the devil was going on—and fast.

“I think we should get you home,” he said to Merry and Sophia. “You look pale, Merry.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, that might be an idea.”

“Lord Thornford is in town with me. We shall escort you both home.”

Merry shook her head. “Oh no, there is really no need. We can—”

“I will not accept a no,” he said firmly. “We are seeing you home safely.”

For the second time that week too. Whoever was trying to hurt her was becoming more determined and bolder. If he was going to keep Merry safe, he would have to take action. Next time something happened, he would be close by and he certainly would not let the bastard get away.





Chapter Sixteen





Merry paused to study the drawing room. With the chairs clean and in place, the windows gleaming, a few choice ornaments scattered about the room, it almost looked livable. It was a shame about the rest of the house, though. There was still much to be done.

“Where would you like me to start, my lady?” asked the maid Merry had managed to steal away from the house.

“If you start over there.” She motioned to the windowsill. “And I shall start with the fireplace, then we shall see if we can tackle the chandelier together.” Merry looked up at the crystal chandelier. It was not as grand as the ones in Whitely Grange or Lulworth Castle, but it would still take some cleaning and they’d have to stand on the table to do it.

Brandishing a cloth, Merry dampened it in a bowl of water and set to work cleaning the dust and grime from the top of the fireplace, working her way down to the cornicing. The methodical, repetitive movements were somewhat soothing—allowing her to drift into a world of thoughtlessness. That was until the maid knocked into a vase, making it rattle on its table.

Merry whirled, heart pounding. A hand to her chest, she drew in a breath. “You startled me.”

The maid grimaced. “Forgive me, my lady. I know you are still jumpy.”

Sucking in a breath, Merry smiled. “It’s fine. I am fine.”

The news of the attack had spread quickly—most likely thanks to Bella who had heard all about it from Sophia. It had been three days since it had occurred, and she had been fine since. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. It was just one of those things...

She frowned. One of those strange things. She still had no idea why a man should pull a knife on her, nor why all these other things had happened. As much as she hated to admit it, Harcourt might be right. What if someone did wish to hurt her?