Authors: Fiona Knightingale
"Listen, all you need to do is get married. No one even said you had to like your husband or spend time with him." Tom swallowed hard when he saw Mercy narrow her eyes. "Just pick a man to be your husband who won't get in your way. One who will allow you to get your inheritance and continue on with life as you know it. You don't even have to know he's there."
Mercy leaned back taking a deep breath, watching the lawyer for a moment, and then nodded her head.
"Fine. You're in charge of finding me one." She ordered him, pointing a finger at his chest. "He can't be ugly, or feeble-minded, no horrible vices, and one who won't embarrass me by flaunting his mistresses every time he talks to another male."
"I will see what I can do." He muttered feeling relieved when Mercy got up and stalked towards the exit.
"By the way, you have one week to produce this so-called perfect husband of mine, or I will make your life a living hell." She told him.
Tom nodded frantically.
If anyone could live up to that threat, it was Mercy. Tom let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding when she shut the door and was out of his office. But he knew he'd better get to work. Mercy didn't make idle threats.
Chapter 2
"No." Mercy said. "Every candidate you've shown to me is worthless."
"Why?" Tom Pinken said, confused, he rubbed a hand to his temple, trying to bite his tongue.
She was impossible.
Mercy picked up the files and started going through them one at a time, tossing them on his desk as she described them.
"This man is a gambler; I work with racing horses for god's sake. He'd ruin me or get himself banned from the tracks, and I couldn't trust him not to dope the horses, gamblers are bad news." Mercy pointed out.
"But he likes horses!" Tom protested weakly.
"And this one? He's fat and has buried three wives in five years. What's to say I wouldn't be number four? I don't trust any man who can't keep a wife alive." Mercy said throwing another folder on his desk.
"I'm doing the best I can, but you didn't give me much time."
"Oh, and this one is just great. He's barely reached manhood and is already known locally for spending most of his time with the whores in the brothel, and you'd put him on my list? Even I have heard of him." Mercy didn't even bother to look at the rest of the folders; she threw them at the lawyer, hitting him in the face with the papers.
Tom looked stunned for a minute and then pushed all the papers off his lap onto the floor. Tom would pick them up later; right now he had to get this girl out of his office before she killed him.
"Mercy, look, you're nineteen, and you have a mouth that can flay a man's skin off. You worry about their reputation, but YOU have a reputation. They hear your name and they either laugh until they realize I'm serious, or they look like they are going to have a panic attack and run screaming in the other direction."
Mercy crossed her arms defensively. Her grandfather had always loved and encouraged her forthright nature, she knew it scared a lot of people off, but if they couldn't handle it, she didn't want to be around them anyways.
People should be able to handle it.
"You're an idiot then." Mercy told him. "You are asking all the wrong people. Ask someone who's never heard of me, play up my good traits, and that this would be a business arrangement."
He shook his head. "Everyone has heard of you Mercy. Your shrew-like tongue is that notorious around here. Maybe if you learned to speak a little nicer to people you'd be able to find a decent human being who'd be interested in you. People think of their life spent with you, and they would pay to avoid a marriage to you."
Mercy blushed; feeling slightly upset at being called a shrew and just tapped her foot quietly. She reminded herself that throwing anything else at his head might make him quit. She couldn't afford to have him quit.
"I don't care how you do it. Find me a man that fits the bill. Don't call me back into this office until you have the right candidate." Mercy said, leaving his office in a huff.
Tom sat back in his chair and put his hands over his face, taking a deep breath. Mercy would be the death of him. Every time she came into his office, he felt like he was going to die of a heart attack. He really needed to retire.
"Louis?" Tom finally called to his assistant in the other room.
Louis stuck his head in the door. "Yes, Sir?"
"Is your cousin still single, and need money?" Tom asked.
"Yes, he just retired from the military, from what my mother told me, he's been living at his mother's small farm repairing stuff since his Dad died last year. I guess it's fallen into debt." Louis told him. "Military pensions just don't make enough."
"Send him a letter and see if he'd be interested in living on a horse farm. Tell him it includes a young wife, horses, and all the green grass a man can see. Tell him we can arrange a monthly stipend, which would help his family's debt." Tom said, pausing a second. "Don't you dare mention Mercy's personality, or her reputation around here, if he agrees, let him learn that himself. She needs a husband and I can't find anyone here to take her on."
Louis grinned. "If anyone can handle her, Vincent probably can."
Chapter 3
Mercy was waiting for Tom to bring the man he said would be perfect. He'd come out earlier in the week, showed him the file he put together on him and explained the situation.
The man was single, ex-military, never been married, no bad vices. He was trying to help his mother save her farm, but his pension just didn't pay enough to do it. Mercy was rich enough to pay for his family's farm and give his mother some living expenses, in return for his role as her husband. He wasn't a big spender and had lived comfortably on his pension when he retired until his mother needed help.
He was in his mid-thirties, so old enough to have gotten all his youthful indiscretions out of his system, and young enough he could still help out with the horses. While Mercy had hired hands, her grandfather and her prided themselves on being active with the animals, and in the middle of everything.
Her husband would be expected to participate, or no one would believe their marriage was real. Since image had been important to her grandfather when it came to the success of the business, Mercy would at least honor that.
A carriage finally pulled down her long driveway and pulled up to the house. Tom got out and wiped his forehead with a piece of cloth from his pocket.
"I'm sorry it took so long, one of the wheels broke and we had to wait for them to fix it," Tom told Mercy.
Mercy shrugged, pretending like she hadn't been sitting here waiting for him.
Vincent got out of the carriage next. He had a scar next to his eye and was missing the tip of his right ear. Despite all that, he was still a very formidable and handsome looking man.
He was tall, and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. When he turned to look at Mercy, she could see his eyes were a light gray.
If she'd been the swooning type, this man in front of her would have almost caused that undesirable reaction. Now this was what she was talking about. She could look at a guy like him all day long.
She grinned and walked over to introduce herself.
"She's so young," Vincent said, talking to Tom instead of her.
"I didn't mention her age?" Tom said, looking nervous. "I suppose that slipped my mind."
"No, you didn't mention she was just a wee little thing that," Vincent said, looking down at her.
"Hello, I'm right here, and I am not that young." Mercy said, shocked that he didn't address her. She had the urge to kick him in the shins but managed to control it. She needed this man, so the last thing she needed to do was chase him off.
"Are you even of an age to be married?" Vincent asked her.
"I'm nineteen! I'm old enough to be married! Many girls my age have already been married for years and have babes." Mercy said to him, sounding snotty.
"And do you want those things?" He asked her. "What kind of marriage are you expecting?"
"Well, you definitely didn't beat around the bush, did you?" Mercy said. "I might like children someday, but for right now, I want to just keep my family's business going."
"Are you still planning on the monthly stipend to my mother?" Vincent asked her.
"Of course." Mercy said, looking offended. "You'll be providing me with a service; I intend to honor my part of the deal."
"I will expect discretion," Vincent told her. "In both the mention of the funds and any love affairs you may have while being married."
"Oh, Tom didn't tell you? If we choose to make this marriage a real one, there will be no love affairs. I won't tolerate cheating, and I'm not interested in sharing. I'm very possessive." Mercy said, giving him a look that said heads would roll.
Mercy walked up to him and poked him in the chest while Tom face palmed, hoping she didn't blow it by acting like herself with Vincent.
"If you cheat on me, I will kill you." Mercy told him, giving him a firm look, staring him down, refusing to blink first.
Vincent stared right back at her. Finally, he blinked and grinned, slapping his leg as if someone had just told the world's funniest joke. Then he turned to Tom.
"Get the contract drawn up, and the marriage license, I see no reason to wait if Mercy wants to just move forward." He told Tom.
"It's your funeral," Tom muttered under his breath, earning him a dirty look from Mercy.
Chapter 4
Mercy stood feeling like a complete fraud in a white wedding dress that had belonged to her mother. The wedding dress had to be altered to fit her, as Mercy was almost half a foot shorter than her mother had been.
Mercy's mother and father had been a love match. A match that her grandfather had initially been against their union, but her mother had won him over eventually. Her mother had been the daughter of one of her grandfathers' maids and had grown up with her dad. They'd fallen in love as teenagers, and just knew they were meant to be together.
It was moments like this that Mercy wished she still had a mom. No girl should be alone on her wedding day, and she was utterly alone. Her lawyer, Tom, was the one walking her down the aisle, and the church was packed.
Everyone was whispering about the man brave enough to take on the 'crazy horse girl' as they called her. They called her other names too; Mercy had heard them talking about her all her life when people thought she wasn't listening.
Her grandfather hadn't tolerated people to badmouth her bloodlines when she was young. But since he wasn't here anymore, and it was up to Mercy to hold her head high and pretend like words didn't hurt.
Mercy walked out of the dressing room at the church and met up with Tom in the hallway.
"You ready Mercy?" Tom asked her as he offered her his arm.
"I suppose as ready as I'll ever be." She said, nervous.
"You look beautiful, your grandfather would be very proud right now," Tom told her gently. He could tell she was nervous and tried to reassure her. "You're doing the right thing; you'll be able to focus on your business after this."
"The business is going fine. I have a bunch of new foals due soon, and I need to start working with the yearlings." Mercy muttered, trying to make herself feel better.
They came through the double doors and the wedding march started loud and echoed through the church.
Mercy held her head high and stomped down the aisle, holding onto Tom's arm. She hadn't even realized she'd left fingernail marks on his skin until he had to pry her hand off him and put her hand into Vincent's.
"You ready to do this?" He asked her. "You look beautiful by the way."
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She turned towards the priest to face him, and the rest of the wedding past in a blur.
"You may now kiss your bride." The priest announced, smiling at the two of them.
Mercy panicked when Vincent cupped her face with his hand and leaned down, claiming her as his wife.
When their lips met, she forgot she had an audience. The gentle pressure turned into a full force assault on her lips and tongue as he took control of the kiss, putting his hand on the back of her head to hold her in place.
Wrapping her arms around his waist Mercy squeezed him tight as he showed her his expert kissing skills. Making her finally understand and acknowledge the appeal of physical intimacy.
The loud clapping finally sunk in through her haze and she turned to blink at the crowd. She blushed, realizing she'd let herself get carried away. This wasn't supposed to be a real marriage, at least not right now.
She gave Vincent a look and saw an expression on his face she couldn't decipher.
"We will talk about this later." He whispered to her, grabbing her arm and escorting her to the carriage that waited outside of the church to take them home for their wedding night.
Mercy wasn't ready for her wedding night, she knew he'd be patient with her, as he promised to let her come to him when she was ready, but she knew it was only a matter of time. The way he looked at her made it clear he desired her.