THE SCANDALOUS LADY MERCY
Book Five
The Baxendale Sisters Series
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AMAZON
AMAZON UK
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SMASHWORDS
After her four sisters married for love, Mercy Baxendale, in her first London Season, wants the same for herself. Her requirements are simple. The man she marries must be madly in love with her, and he must also be prepared to support her business venture.When an incident lands Lady Mercy Baxendale and Grant Viscount Northcliffe in the scandal sheets and has everyone in London talking, they are forced into a marriage of convenience. Although Northcliffe is quite the most handsome man she’s met, he does not fill her criterion for a husband. Not only does he appear to be a man with secrets, he has a very public mistress.
Grant foresees no rush to marry and produce an heir. His grandfather, the Duke of Rotherham, and Grant’s father are still above ground. And squiring a fiancée around London for the Season is difficult with the dangerous work he’s undertaken for the Crown.
While he accepts that circumstances have thrust marriage upon him, he wishes his reluctant fiancée would be warmer. There’s a decidedly chilly expression in her beautiful blue eyes when she looks at him.
Will they find it possible to overcome their differences and love one another, or will his secrets destroy their chance of happiness?
Excerpt:
Highland Manor, Tunbridge
Wells, 1825 Spring.
AN OWL HOOTED in the large oak
near the corner of the house. As Mercy Baxendale crept along the drive to the
parlor window, her dog, Wolf, gave a sharp bark. “Shush,” she whispered. She’d
be in all sorts of trouble if Mama heard her. But she couldn’t finish writing a
chapter of her book on beauty treatments until she’d checked on her latest
formula for curing pimples. She’d rejected those she’d discovered in journals,
which used a pound of boar’s cheek boiled up with pippins and a slice of veal,
or advised bathing the face in urine. And she would never suggest the use of
Gowland’s Lotion, which contained mercuric chloride—a corrosive and toxic acid.
Instead, she employed a wash of warm water and oatmeal, followed by a lotion
with oil of sweet almonds as a base, to which she added a mixture of nutmeg,
black pepper, sandalwood, and honey.
But she knew no one who might
endure testing it. The notion had come when she’d seen Mr. Timms, her father’s
man of business, with a pimple on his nose. As she stared at it closely, she
deliberated whether to ask him to try her formula, but decided against it when
he recoiled like a startled horse and flushed crimson.
The book would have to be put
aside again, plus her next venture, which was to make her own cosmetics, as the
family was to go to London for her Come Out. Unlike her sister, Charity, who’d
refused a London Season, Mercy eagerly looked forward to hers. She delighted in
the pretty gowns, spencers, pelisses, dancing slippers and hats which filled
her wardrobe, and shopping in London’s fashionable stores for additional
accouterments.
Scattering gravel, Wolf skidded
over the drive to sniff beneath a hedge. After a squirrel scampered up into a
tree, the dog returned to her side. “Good dog,” she murmured.
So much rested on a successful
Season. While the prospect was exciting, it also made her nervous. Father had
outlaid a considerable amount of money on this endeavor. What if she became a
wallflower? At least two gentlemen had promised to dance with her. Robin’s
friend, Lord Bellamy, and the Scottish baron, Lord Gunn. Neither would suit
Father though, as Bellamy was a second son and Gunn had been a suitor of
Charity’s.
Mercy turned the corner onto the
sweep of circular drive. Candlelight shone down from the upper stories. Mama
was still awake.
With a beating heart, Mercy raised
the window and put a knee on the sill, trying not to soil the embroidered
muslin she’d worn to the assembly earlier in the evening. She fell onto the
floor of the parlor, with Wolf vaulting the sill easily and landing beside her.
The door opened, throwing light
into the room from the hall sconces. “Mercy?” A lamp flickered into life, and
her mother’s face appeared with a pained expression. “The last of my daughters
to see off, and I declare I shall not survive to witness it. Where have you
been?”
“I’ve been to my laboratory. I
needed to check on an experiment.”
“All the way to the barn?”
“I took Wolf with me.”
Mama smiled wearily. “Send Wolf
downstairs and come to your bedchamber before your father sees you.”
Having relegated Wolf to his bed
in the servant’s hall, Mercy followed her mother up to her bedchamber.
Mama gave a heavy sigh and sank
onto the bed. “I do wish you could be counted on to behave as one would expect
of a young debutante. Your father would be very angry if he learned of this.”
Mercy shrugged off her spencer and
darted over to her. “Mama, please don’t tell him!”
Mama sighed. “It would serve no
purpose to upset him further. He’s annoyed that young Geoffrey Linden swung you
right off your feet during the reel at the assembly this evening! A good thing
that didn’t happen in London. If it had you would be considered fast and may
not get a voucher for Almack’s.”
“Geoffrey meant no harm. He is
only sixteen.”
“Nevertheless, he should be better
schooled in etiquette. I should speak to his mother. You cannot allow gentlemen
to stretch the limits of respectability. All eyes will be upon you. But at
least you won’t be able to vanish from Portland Square as easily as you do
here.”
She rose and began to undo the
hooks on Mercy’s gown. “Are you aware of how dangerous the streets of London
can be? Town is not at all like Tunbridge Wells.”
“I doubt I’d have reason to leave
the Mayfair house unescorted, Mama.”
“I suspect you might, Mercy,” her
mother said ambiguously. “Now get some sleep. You of all people must know the
first rule of beauty care is to be well rested.”
* * *
Review:
I have had the privilege of reading Maggi Andersen’s latest delightful novel which focuses on another of the Baxendale sisters. Mercy is the tomboy of the family who matures into a thoughtful and considerate girl who has no wish to rock the family respectability so when scandal threatens, she does what is expected of her and marries Grant, Viscount Northcliffe.
Mercy might be strong willed and capable, with an eye to starting her own business, but she longs to be loved by the husband she has grown to adore. However, Grant’s his secret work for the Crown prevents him sharing a large part of his life with his new wife, while Mercy worries that he is also continuing his liaison with his mistress.
This is a lovely story where pride and misunderstandings stand in the way of a couple’s happiness, until Mercy’s life is put in danger and all secrets must be revealed.
I shall be sorry when Ms Andersen runs out of Baxendale girls, but as most of them have children perhaps she will introduce us to the next generation.
Anita Davison.
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