by Devon, Eva
“I could murder Lady Flanders,” his mother huffed.
“I think there is a very long line waiting to do that honor,” Mary put in. “And I’m glad William’s going to marry Lady Felicity. Our family could use a bit of bad blood. We’re all terribly boring.”
“I’m not!” chirped Elizabeth who then turned to William. “Am I?”
“Never pet,” he soothed. “And Mary, I can’t be a notorious rake and boring. You shall have to pick.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean you,” Mary replied easily as she spread jam over her muffin. “I just meant the ladies in our family. Sheep all, as you say. We’re all fluffy and have nothing of interest to say.”
Jane snorted. “Speak for yourself.”
“I agree with Jane,” William said. “You’re far too hard on yourself. You’re not fluffy at all.”
Mary scowled and threw her muffin across the table.
He caught it and was rained on by a shower of buttered crumbs. “You see, not the action of a sheep and now Hobbs will have my guts for his mother’s garters. Jam stains on my waistcoat,” William teased.
His mother threw up her hands. “Why did it have to be a daughter of that man? If you form an alliance with that family it will be the ruin of us.”
“If I don’t it will ruin us,” he pointed out. “I’ve publicly offered. You know a gentleman can’t withdraw.”
“You think she’d sue for breach of promise?” whispered Jane as if it were the most scandalous thing in the world.
He considered Lady Felicity and the way she’d popped Lord Trumbold on the jaw then carried on as if she hadn’t stirred a curl. “No, I don’t. She’s not that kind of lady.”
He took another sip of coffee then folded his paper. “Still, one can’t leave her in a lurch.”
“What if the madness runs in the family?” his mother exclaimed.
“She’s not mad. Blazes, Penworth isn’t mad either. Just. . .”
His mother waited, her eyes narrowed. “Yes?”
“Well,” he at last replied, “he certainly isn’t a sheep.”
His mother huffed, “He’s a randy old ram that should be put down.”
“Madness or randy old ram,” countered William, “Lady Felicity is a lady of remarkable capability I’d say. . . And courage.”
“Courage?” Mary prompted.
William nodded. “To face society after all that fuss last year. That takes courage.”
“Lady Melbourne is a formidable member of the ton,” his mother pointed out. “None of us would gainsay her. If she said she wished a baboon invited to Almack’s, we would.”
“No baboons, thank goodness,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Now, I’m off.”
Elizabeth bounced on her chair. “May I accompany you?”
“No pet,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But there will be plenty of time for you to meet her.”
“To think, my son forced to wed, over a bit of business in a dark corner,” his mother lamented. “The scandal. The shame.”
“We shall weather it, I think, Mother,” he drawled. “We survived Grandpapa’s fling with the Irish singer.”
His mother sniffed. “Yes. Well. That’s different.”
He didn’t bother to ask how. Sometimes the workings of his mother’s mind were a mystery, love her though he did. He’d often found she conveniently liked to forget facts when in an argument. It was rather endearing, really.
“When you see me again, I’ll know the date,” he said.
“You know,” Mary said with decided mischief. “You don’t look too put out about it.”
He stared at Mary. “You know, I don’t think I am. She’s quite something.”
“And beautiful,” supplied Mary.
“Yes,” he admitted.
But that wasn’t what made the day’s future appointment palatable. It was that he was going to have a conversation with Lady Felicity and she wasn’t going to be utterly predictable like every other woman he’d ever met.
And that was something to look forward to, indeed.
Chapter 5
“You’re pacing.”
Felicity threw Georgiana a dagger-like stare. “I don’t pace.”
She let out a cry of frustration as she realized she, indeed, was walking back and forth before the windows which overlooked the pavement.
When had it come to this?
Pacing!
A knock rapped on the front door and she felt her heart fly into her mouth.
“Next door,” said Augusta, as she lounged reading a novel.
Felicity scowled. “Of course it was,” she snapped.
Gus lifted her gaze from her book. “Only you did look very excited—“
“Just. . .” She threw her hands up and flung herself with undue drama into a nearby yellow damask chair. “What if he doesn’t come?”
“Oh, he’ll come,” said Georgiana.
“If he doesn’t we’re all done for,” intoned Felicity. When he strode away from her last night in that dark hall, she’d realized just how terribly precarious her situation was. How bad the night had, indeed, been.
Before that odious old man had bothered her, it had been going rather well. There’d only been a few nasty looks. Others had even been sympathetic.
Several gentlemen had asked Felicity and her sisters to dance.
Then he’d had to accost her on her return from the cloak room.
Even now, she wished she could kick herself for letting Lord Trumbold manage to maneuver her into a side room.
Perhaps she was a sheep after all.
He’d herded her rather well.
But she had been so terrified of a scene.
A scene would ruin them all.
Well, they might all still be ruined.
“Should I ring for tea?” asked Gus.
“Pots of it wouldn’t cure me,” Felicity bemoaned.
Gus waggled her fiery red eyebrows. “Brandy then?”
“Gus!” chastised Felicity.
Shrugging, Gus returned her gaze back to her book as she said, “That’s what father would have done.”
“Father is in exile because of his behavior.”
“Well what about some negus,” Marianne suggested as she studied her pianoforte music. “We could have negus. It’s medicinal.”
Felicity frowned. “Come to think of it, so is brandy. Let’s have brandy.”
Gus got up and pulled the bell pull. They had all gathered together very early to discuss what was to be done. Only none of them seemed to know.
It wasn’t as if she could hie over to Lord Talbot’s townhome and demand entrance.
Could she?
No. No she couldn’t. Not even she could go that far. She pursed her lips. At least not in daylight.
“You have a most troubling look on your face,” said Georgiana.
“Do you think it terribly hard to scale a wall?” Felicity asked.
“Yes!” all her sisters shouted in unison.
“I was just curious,” she defended.
The door opened and rather than the butler, Lady Melbourne swooped in, her turquoise silk aflutter and the gold leaves in her turban winking in the morning light.
She strode towards Felicity. Just as Felicity was certain Lady Melbourne was going to give her the castigation of her life, the older lady beamed.
“Clever, clever girl! However did you manage it? The Marquess of Talbot!” Lady Melbourne gushed. “What a coup!”
“Um. . .” She really had no idea what to say in response. So, at last, she replied carefully, “Thank you?”
Last night, Lady Melbourne had gone to a separate charity event and sent them to the ball with her sister, Lady Clyde.
Lady Clyde had been agog at the scandalous events that quickly were made known in the ballroom. But Lady Clyde had promised to allow Felicity to confess the news to Lady Melbourne in the morning.
Gus cleared her throat. “How did you hear? Is it in the papers?”
Lady Melbourne tsked. “Of course not. My lady’s maid told me. It is going round the downstairs circuit apace.”
Waiting for Lady Melbourne to rise had apparently been a moot point. For all London knew, including or especially, the maids of every lady in town.
The butler entered, the tray laden.
Lady Melbourne arched a brow. “What the deuce?”
“A restorative,” ventured Gus.
“Brandy before lunch? Are you all in fits of fainting?” demanded Lady Melbourne.
Felicity and her sisters quickly exchanged glances. What to say?
Lady Melbourne shook her head. “My dear girls, it is always champagne in the morning. With a bit of fruit. Bellweather,” she said ominously to the silver-haired butler. “You know better. How could you allow such a travesty?”
“I beg your pardon, my lady. I thought that since they were young ladies they must have a different fashion. So, I—“
“Are you saying I am old, Bellweather?”
The butler blanched. “Never, my lady. Never in a month of Sundays would I—“
“Very well. Very well. You needn’t worry your head over it,” Lady Melbourne soothed. “Trot back to the cellar. Find champagne and bring strawberries if Mrs. Matlock has any to spare. We are celebrating!”
The butler merely gave an accepting nod then headed back out.
Lady Melbourne settled herself down on the daffodil-colored settee, arranging her skirts carefully. She patted the cushion beside her. “Felicity, dear, do sit.”
With little choice, Felicity made her way over and sat. She folded her hands waiting for the interrogation.
“Now, however did you manage it?” Lady Melbourne beamed with pride. “I knew you’d be married and quickly, but to such a peer? The Marquess of Talbot is highly placed and owns half of England.”
She had heard the name once or twice before but beyond that she knew nothing of the marquess. Suddenly, she found herself eager to know more. “What is his reputation?”
“He is a gentleman, likes the ladies as many bachelors do, and is legend with a rapier or a pistol. He’s a favorite but has never seemed interested in matrimony, at least not in the near future. Man that he is, he can wait a good ten or more years before having to produce an heir.”
“So. . . He has a bit of a reputation?” Gus asked.
Lady Melbourne nodded. “Oh yes. Any decent fellow does. He fought a duel last month. Wounded the other man, of course. Talbot would never kill anyone. Too much of a good sport for that.”
“He sounds like Father,” said Georgiana.
That was so odd, because when she’d met the marquess, he hadn’t seemed anything like their father. Oh, he was beautiful like their father was, but there was no vanity to him. He was confident, strong, witty to be sure like their father, but he was kind. And while their father could do great acts of kindness, he was also likely to meet one with a sarcastic turn of phrase so cutting as to leave one bloodied for some days. She didn’t think the marquess contained a cruel bone in his very admirable body.
Lady Melbourne turned her gaze back to Felicity. “So, then. How did you manage it? Did you suggest to Lady Flanders you might go wandering about? Did you ensure you were seen following him?”
“Not at all!” Felicity retorted, indignant Lady Melbourne would suggest such a thing.
“My dear, you have little but your beauty to induce a man to marry you and lords do not marry women because they are good looking. They marry them for breeding and money. You have money, but right now you’re breeding is highly questionable.”
“Our family can be traced back to Henry II,” declared Gus imperiously.
“Yes, along with a great many bats in the family belfry,” Lady Melbourne drawled. “Your father is the latest. Lords do like to avoid such things in their future lineage if they can. Look at all that foreign blood in your line. Most won’t like it.”
“Then how are you so certain we will all marry?” demanded Georgiana.
“Because when I set my mind to something, it takes place,” Lady Melbourne retorted simply.
The door opened again and Bellweather entered, this time the tray laden down with two green bottles and several champagne flutes.
As the butler poured the bubbling liquid, Felicity frowned. “It feels so odd to be celebrating.”
“Your triumph?” Lady Melbourne inquired.
“His misfortune,” she replied, aghast.
“Dear girl, you could never be a misfortune,” stated Lady Melbourne.
“Here, here,” added Gus.
Felicity sighed as she took her champagne. “Lady Melbourne, you’ve just made it sound as if I’m certain only to produce mad children for him. How can he be fortunate?”
“Because while there are bats in the family belfry, they are none lunatic. They were all brilliant. So brilliant that society could not understand or withstand their shine. And quite frankly, the Talbot line has gotten very stuffy. His mother, for instance, is as boring as bricks.”
Georgiana guffawed and covered her mouth.
Felicity winced. “Oh dear. She won’t like me much, will she?”
“I can safely say that she’ll loathe you, though she’ll never say so to her son,” Lady Melbourne warned. “She’s a might too canny for that. But I’d keep my eye on her if I were you. The sisters? I’ve only met the one, Lady Mary, and she is a sweet, simple girl. Nothing too exciting, if you understand me.”
Lady Melbourne turned back to the topic at hand. “You’ve yet to tell me how it occurred,” Lady Melbourne pointed out.
Felicity took a sip of her wine. “Well, if you must know, it was all a coincidence. I’m quite lucky not to be betrothed to be Lord Trumbold this morning.”
“Trumbold?” Lady Melbourne’s eyes shone with horror. “That bag of pus?”
Felicity couldn’t help the laugh that issued from her. “Yes. And what an apt description. He managed to isolate me, or so he thought, in one of the rooms away from the ball.”
“My dear,” Lady Melbourne gasped, her hand going to her heart. “How terrible.”
“Yes,” Felicity agreed with no sense of melodrama. For it truly had been terrible. “He was very rude and then, if you must know, I hit him quite hard. He was drunk and collapsed. And there was the Marquess of Talbot, all set to rescue me even when I didn’t need rescuing.”
“But you did,” Lady Melbourne said simply, “and he did and it seems that he will.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Gossips descended upon you last night and he rescued you from them,” Lady Melbourne explained. “And now, it seems he will marry you, rescuing from Lord Trumbold. I think you must teach all your sisters how to defend themselves from old lechers. To think what might have happened!”
“Oh, Father taught us all the art of boxing,” piped Marianne. “Odd, I know, but Father was odd.”
“He used to take his instructor, Timmons, wherever he went,” Gus added. “And well, we all played with the salty fellow. We learned a great deal.”
“Not just boxing, I’ll warrant,” Lady Melbourne said with a hint of skepticism.
“What if he doesn’t come?” asked Felicity.
And as if the good lord had heard her rather pitiful question, a knock reverberated downstairs.
Lady Melbourne cocked her head to the side. “Ten pounds, my dear that’s him.”
“I haven’t got ten pounds,” Felicity said.
Lady Melbourne grinned. “Oh, but you will.”
Chapter 6
William was not entirely certain as to what he had expected, but five young women and Lady Melbourne drinking champagne just before lunch was not it.
He eyed the ladies, wondering what the devil he was supposed to say in the face of such blatant celebration of his downfall.
Lady Felicity had the good graces to blush. Which, he supposed, was something.
He frowned. “Lady Melbourne, might I have a moment alone with Lady Felicity
?”
“It all depends, Lord Marksborough,” the dame of society said with an arched brow. “Are you going to marry her?”
The entire room seemed to hold its collective breath and he paused. It was very tempting at this moment to say no, but then he spotted it.
Terror.
Abject terror shone in Lady Felicity’s violet-blue eyes. And he hated it. The fear did surprise him. She’d seemed so bold last night, but apparently total ruination struck horror into her heart. Of course, her ruination would spell disaster for her sisters, too.
At last, he said, “Yes. I will not go back on my offer. I made it in earnest, not wishing to see the young lady in the power of Lord Trumbold. But with the champagne flowing, I now wonder if I haven’t been made a fool.”
Lady Melbourne, whom he had always liked and respected, shook her head. “Such a thing would be impossible. But in all events, though I certainly have encouraged her to have less than perfect means in acquiring a spouse, I can assure you, Lady Felicity is incapable of duplicity. . . To my disappointment, if you must know. Why just last week, she could have had the Duke of Trawlawney if she had just—“
“Lady Melbourne,” hissed Lady Felicity.
“Ah. A touch too much honesty?” Lady Melbourne queried as she lifted her glass. “I did think it wise we make it clear to your soon to be husband that you are not a scheming baggage.”
“Well, I am a trifle scheming,” said Lady Felicity, “But I’m not a liar.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “I cannot abide liars.”
“You’d hate our father then,” said Georgiana.
“I know your father,” he said. “I don’t hate him. But he has some very poor points.”
“That is one of the kindest descriptions we’ve heard of him,” Lady Felicity said softly.
“Well if he’s to be my father-in-law, I shan’t go tearing him down any further than he’s already been brought.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
And he found that he quite liked the sounds of her soft voice thanking him. He suddenly felt rather like a chivalrous knight of old, riding to the aid of his lady fair. It was a very strange sensation. He nodded.
“Might we be alone, Lady Melbourne?” his intended asked.
