Page 75 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

“I understand.” He winked. “You do know you’ll be godmother to our son or daughter.”

She smiled. “I’d like nothing better.”

It was only after the couple turned away that Rachel frowned. As Leah’s closest friend, it didn’t surprise her to be asked to be godmother. But what of Merrick? Would he become the child’s godfather?

She accepted the programme handed to her and joined what she’d called the Three B’s—Bethany, Betsy, and Bettina. The trio had been thick as thieves last Season and this one starting tonight seemed to be no different.

“Good evening,” she greeted them.

“Rachel St. Clair, you look positively lovely,” Bethany said, eying her gown. “Is that from last Season?” she asked loudly.

“As a matter of fact, it is, Lady Bethany,” she said boldly. “It’s something I loved and wanted to wear again.”

“I’m sure no one will notice,” Betsy assured her.

“I wouldn’t have—and I notice everything,” Bettina interjected.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Rachel said. “Please, carry on with your conversation.”

Bethany’s eyes gleamed. “We were discussing the Merry Marquess.”

Rachel frowned. “Who?”

“I’ve heard him called Major Marquess,” Betsy said.

“No, you have it all wrong,” Bettina proclaimed. “He’s Major Merry to many. When he doesn’t answer to the Marquess of Merrick.”

Her gut clenched. “And why do you call him that?”

Bethany, the leader of the group, took Rachel’s arm and leaned in to share the gossip. “Because he’s made merry all over London. He arrived in late autumn and has been seen everywhere in town with various women.”

“Usually drunk, I might add,” Betsy said.

“I heard he keeps three mistresses,” Bettina added, her eyes wide.

“Three? I’d heard it was four,” Betsy giggled.

Rachel now thought she would be the one to be ill. So Merrick had left Eversleigh and come to London. Not Edgemere.

“His townhouse is in Mayfair, diagonally from ours,” Bethany confided. “Can you imagine—he has no staff. Not a valet or cook or even a single maid.”

“I’ve heard when he’s done drinking for the evening, he gambles at his club,” Betsy said. “What would cause a man so handsome and accomplished to do such a thing? He’s ruining his life. No respectable lady will have him.”

“No one has seen him for a few weeks, though,” Bettina said. “He’s probably lying drunk in some alley. Oh, is that Merrifield coming this way? I danced with him once last Season. He is heading toward us,” she said excitedly.

“He’s never seen this early,” Betsy whispered. “Oh, I hope I get to dance with him.”

Merrifield arrived and smiled at the group. “Good evening, ladies. I’m in a dancing mood tonight.” He looked to her. “Lady Rachel, might I see your programme?”

“Certainly, Lord Merrifield.”

She handed it over as he made small talk with them. As expected, he scrawled his name beside the supper dance and the one after it, as well. He then asked each of the Three B’s for their dance cards, as well. Rachel thought he took the first three dances of the evening with them.

He looked back to her. “Is your grandmother here this evening? I grew quite fond of her at Alford’s house party last summer. I would love the chance to speak with her.”

Pointing to where several older women had seats so they could view the dancing, Rachel said, “She’s over there, holding court as usual.”

Merrifield bowed to them. “Until later.”

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