Felicity raised her chin. “I am.”
“Excellent.”
“Then.” Felicity held her breath. “You’re not concerned that I do not know him well? Well enough for marriage, that is?”
Lady Windham scoffed. “The idea that one should know one’s husband well before marriage is utter nonsense. I scarcely knew my husband at all when we wed, and we have been blissfully happy for nearly ten years now.” She leaned toward Felicity as if imparting a great secret. “One never truly knows a man until one marries him anyway. I have often thought the less one knows of one’s spouse, at least in the beginning, the better off one is. It makes life together a constant discovery. Oh, certainly one should be confident that one’s choice is a good and honorable man. You have already realized that about Nigel and if you had any doubt at all, I am more than willing to reassure you.” She smiled. “There now. Is that what you came to find out? Does that relieve your mind?”
“You have indeed confirmed what I already felt.” Felicity blew a long breath. “That in itself is exceptionally odd. I have always thought of myself as sensible and practical until recently when I realized that I wanted something more than a sensible, practical life. Precisely the moment when I met your brother.” She shook her head. “It makes no sense at all. But somehow…”
“Somehow with Nigel everything is different.” Lady Windham beamed. “That’s how it is, my dear, when one finds the right man.”
A discreet knock at the parlor door heralded the entry of a maid bearing a tray with tea and biscuits. She placed the tray on a table beside Lady Windham’s chair and silently took her leave. Lady Windham poured the tea, handed a cup to Felicity, and settled back in her chair.
“Now, might I ask what is your plan?”
“Why, my plan is to marry Mr. Cavendish,” Felicity said firmly.
“First of all, if you are to marry Nigel, I think it’s perfectly acceptable for you to refer to him as Nigel, at least between us. And, as we are to be sisters, you should call me Madeline and I shall call you Felicity.”
Felicity smiled. “I should like that, Madeline.”
“Secondly, your intention to marry Nigel is a goal not a plan.” Madeline stirred sugar into her tea in a measured manner. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”
“Of course I have a plan. It’s a very good plan.” Felicity struggled to come up with something, anything that sounded even remotely like a plan. Even a bad plan would be better than no plan at all. At once, she realized she did have at least the beginnings of a plan. “My plan was to seek the advice of someone who knows Nigel very well.” She grinned. “You.”
“Very good. That is indeed an excellent plan.” Madeline returned her grin. “A woman who is sensible and practical joining forces with one has known him since before birth—why, poor Nigel doesn’t stand a chance. We shall have you married before the season ends.”
“I don’t want to force him into marriage,” Felicity said quickly. “I want him to want to marry me.”
“Oh, a forced marriage won’t do at all. Nigel would dig his heels in like a willful pony. We shall make certain you are not put in a position where your reputation might be at stake, which shouldn’t be the least bit difficult. As I said, you are not the sort of woman Nigel usually pursues.”
Felicity sighed. “I know.”
“But you are the type of woman he will want to marry. We just have to make him see that.”
“Is that all?” Felicity said weakly. “It seems an impossible goal.”
“I didn’t say it will be easy. Nigel is very resistant to marriage.” Madeline sipped her tea thoughtfully. “You say he was intrigued by you?”
“Oh, I think so.” Indeed, after their parting last night she was well aware that he had attempted to seek her out again, and she had made certain she was not available before she had left the ball for home. “In fact, I am fairly certain of it.”
“Good.” Madeline’s eyes narrowed in a thoughtful manner. “I think the first thing I need to do is find out just how intrigued he is. I’m not sure Nigel has been intrigued by a respectable young woman before. This is extremely interesting and a very good sign.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do.” Madeline nodded firmly. “Now, before we go any further, I need to know everything that’s transpired between the two of you.”
Felicity widened her eyes. “Everything?”
“Every detail.” A wicked look shone in Madeline’s eye, and Felicity realized it was the same wicked look she’d noted in Nigel’s eye. While there was a vague similarity in coloring, Nigel’s twin didn’t look the least bit like him. Except for the twinkle in her eye. The Countess of Windham would be the perfect ally.
For the next few minutes Madeline listened thoughtfully while Felicity detailed every moment of her conversations with Nigel, concluding with her comment to him that perhaps she didn’t wish to be sensible and her avoidance of him for the rest of the evening.
“Oh, that’s very good,” Madeline said approvingly. “There’s nothing that drives Nigel mad faster than a puzzle he cannot figure out. You’ve made an excellent start.” She thought for a moment. “It seems to me the thing to do now is to continue on the path you have started. We shall make certain you are in attendance at every social event he attends. As the season is well under way, that shouldn’t be at all difficult.”
“I can’t imagine Nigel is the type who attends the same sort of occasions I am invited to. Mine seem so”—Felicity wrinkled her nose—“proper.”
“Fortunately for us, the attendance of social events during the season is one of the few areas Nigel has accepted as his duty as the future viscount. It’s not at all difficult for him, really, as Nigel has always loved a good party. We shall coordinate your social calendar with his. I am assuming, as an eligible young woman of good family, you have been invited to everything worth being invited to.”
“I think so.”
“Good.” Madeline nodded. “And I shall make certain you receive an invitation to anything you have not yet been invited to.”
“So the idea is to put myself in his path at every turn,” Felicity said slowly.
“I admit it sounds somewhat feeble, but the best plans are those that tend not to be overly complicated.”
“And then what?”
“Well, the rest is up to you.” Madeline lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug. “You’ve already caught his attention. You need to continue to do so while ignoring him at the same time.”
Felicity’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“It’s a question of balance. Simply put, you must tempt him while not appearing to be especially interested in him.” She chuckled. “Nigel’s never had a woman he’s been interested in not be interested in him in return. That too will drive him mad.”
“I don’t know that I wish to drive him mad,” Felicity said quickly.
“Of course you do. Only when he is totally and completely insane will he realize that in spite of his aversion to marriage, if he wants you in his life—and he will—marriage is his only option.”
“It doesn’t seem especially honest though, does it?” Felicity murmured. “It’s rather calculating and devious.”
“That’s the beauty of it. One must be calculating and devious when the right man enters your life and has no idea that he is the right man. Especially men who are not interested in marriage. As for honesty.” Madeline cast her a look that could only be called pitying. “Honesty between men and women is highly overrated. There is certainly a time and a place for honesty, but one must choose those times and places carefully.”
Felicity stared. She wasn’t at all sure what to say. Honesty had always struck her as rather important. Still, Madeline knew Nigel better than anyone, and if a certain amount of deceit was needed to win his hand, then deceit it would be. She drew a deep breath. “Very well.
“Excellent.” Madeline beamed. “Fate is all well and good, my dear, and as much as I fervently belie
ve in destiny and what have you, one cannot count on providence alone. Besides, whereas the ancients believed the fates to be lovely women, scantily clad, I have always thought of fate as something or rather someone entirely different. When you consider the nature of fate, there is an excellent argument to be made that fate is, in truth, male.”
Felicity raised a brow. “Male?”
“When you think about it, men are prone to grand pronouncements without any real attempt to see them through to their conclusion. Just decreeing this and decreeing that without any thought as to how to get to what ever has been decreed. No, I think fate is definitely a man. And just like any man, needs the helping hand of a good woman.” The Countess of Windham sipped her tea and considered her future sister-in-law with a satisfied smile. “And I do so love to be helpful.”
“What am I to do?” Nigel paced the width of Maddy’s parlor. He had spent a long, sleepless night wrestling with the weight of the responsibilities he had known would come someday. He just wasn’t prepared for someday to come quite so soon. He had intended to unburden himself to his sister first thing in the morning, but he hadn’t fallen asleep until past dawn and had slept far later than he had wished. He paused and met his twin’s gaze. “What am I to do?
“Oh, I don’t know. Stop repeating yourself? Accept your responsibilities? Behave like an adult? Grow up?” Maddy smiled in a pleasant manner. He knew that smile. Pleasant wasn’t at all the sentiment behind it. Was he destined to be plagued by women who were considered pleasant but in truth were something entirely different? He ignored the thought. He didn’t need to be distracted by the ever-present image of Lady Felicity in his head.
“That’s easy for you to say.” Nigel continued his pacing. “You’re a success at your chosen profession.”
“My chosen profession?” Maddy quirked a brow. “What, pray tell, is my chosen profession?”
“You know.” Nigel gestured impatiently. “Countess, hostess, wife, mother. You have what? Seventeen children now?”
“Five.” She huffed. “As you well know. It only seems like seventeen on occasion.”
“No, my dear sister. On occasion it seems like forty.” Even now, he could not resist the opportunity to tease Maddy about her brood: five boys, including a set of twins. If truth were told, he was fond of his nephews, although he usually preferred them in small doses and at a reasonable distance. Still, there were moments when he quite enjoyed their presence. His sister would say—had said repeatedly—that was because he was little more than a small child himself.
“Regardless, wife and mother is no more my chosen profession than becoming the next viscount and head of the family is yours.”
“It suits you though,” he muttered. “You’re very good at it.”
“Thank God. But perhaps it only suits me, indeed perhaps it only suits most women, because we have no real choice. It’s not as if there were legitimate professions open to us. Oh, certainly we are permitted to dabble in the arts. And if one is poor but well bred, one can become a teacher in a boarding school or a governess for disgracefully low wages and less respect.”
“And do you pay your governesses disgracefully low wages?”
“I pay my governesses the equivalent of their weight in gold.” She sighed. “Each and every one of them.”
It was an ongoing source of amusement to Nigel that his sister was unable to keep a governess for any length of time regardless of how well she paid. Her children were, to say the least, high-spirited.
“I love my children. I adore my husband. I relish my position in society, and all in all I am quite satisfied with my life. Still, it would have been nice to have had a true choice. To have been able to become something other than what I was expected to be.” There was a wistful note in his sister’s voice he’d never noticed before.
He raised a brow. “And what would you have become?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. “I should have liked to have attended Oxford as you did. It would be great fun, I think, to be in politics or study the law. Or the sciences. I would have enjoyed becoming, oh, say, an astronomer.”
“An astronomer.” He stared at his sister. “Why would you say that?”
“No reason in particular.” She smiled in a too innocent manner. “It just came to mind.”
He narrowed his gaze. Nothing just came to mind when it came to his sister. “I don’t believe you.”
“Nonetheless, it’s true. It simply strikes me that it must be quite fascinating to study the stars. Even romantic. Spending your nights gazing up at the heavens through the eyepiece of a telescope. On a balcony perhaps.”
Lady Felicity had both a telescope and a balcony and was, in fact, the only person he knew who did, although admittedly, aside from Robin, his circle of acquaintances did not include those of a scholarly or scientific nature. To hear now that his sister was apparently so inclined was completely out of character. What—or perhaps who—had put such a notion in her head?
He narrowed his gaze. “Madeline, what do you know?”
“I know any number of things, brother dear. First and foremost, you”—she met his gaze firmly—“you are as frightened as a rabbit by this decision of Father’s and—”
“Of course I’m frightened. And with good reason. I shall surely plunge the whole family into abject poverty and—”
“And, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you are the only one who thinks so. The only one who thinks you are not well up to the task. Father would never make such a decision if he had any doubts about your abilities whatsoever.” Her tone softened. “Nigel, you’ve been trained for this from the time you were old enough to walk. Your entire life has been spent in preparation to become the next viscount.”
“I don’t seem to have learned much,” he said under his breath.
“I suspect you’ve learned more than you think. Honestly, Nigel, sometimes your behavior is no better than Edward’s and he’s only nine. No. I take that back.” She glared at her brother. “Sometimes your behavior is substantially less mature than my oldest son’s or his younger brothers.”
“Thank you. That is precisely what I need to hear.” Sarcasm sounded in his voice.
“It is indeed what you needed to hear,” she snapped. “I daresay you haven’t heard it enough.
“That I behave like a child?”
“Yes!”
“Well, damn it all, Maddy, I feel like a child.” He sank into the chair closest to his sister. “I feel completely unprepared and totally incompetent.”
“That may well be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever said, and you have long made a habit of saying stupid things.”
“Again, my thanks.” He glared at his sister. “Motherhood has changed you, Maddy, and not for the better, I might add. You used to be far more sympathetic to my problems than you are now.”
“I’ve become quite skilled at dealing with small children and their problems. Your problems, as you put it, are not nearly as great as your apprehension. Father is certainly not going to toss you in the water and allow you to sink or swim on your own. He’ll be right by your side. Nigel.” She blew an exasperated breath. “From the time you finished school until now, Father has allowed you free rein to do exactly as you please, has he not? He has not requested anything of you—”
“I am expected to make an appearance at each and every social event deemed of importance by Mother,” he muttered.
“Poor, poor Nigel.” Maddy rested the back of her hand against her forehead in a gesture of feigned sympathy. He wanted nothing more than to revert to childhood and yank her hair. “Forced to go to one party after another for the sake of appearances and respectability and spending the rest of his time in scandalous activities and one liaison after another with equally scandalous women.”
“It’s a difficult job, keeping up appearances, that is.” Nigel slumped back in his chair and grinned. “I’m exhausted.”
“Have you considered that in
addition to your new responsibilities it’s past time you acquired a wife as well?”
“No,” he said quickly, ignoring the vision of Lady Felicity that arose unbidden in his mind. Since he’d met her again last night and discovered she was not the girl he had thought, she had come to mind with annoying frequency. Even during his sleepless night, when he hadn’t been considering the ramifications of his father’s decision, she’d been in his head. And oddly enough, he saw her not as she’d been on that infamous first night but as she might have been. On her balcony, with her white nightclothes shifting in the slight breeze, clinging to every delightful curve just long enough to tease and tantalize and—he shook his head. “I most certainly have not nor do I intend to do so.”
“You can’t put it off forever, you know. You will need a wife eventually. Children, an heir.”
“Couldn’t I just take one of yours?” He forced a light tone to his voice. “You have more than enough.”
She raised a brow.
He sighed. “I have no interest in those sweet young things that are routinely paraded before me every season. And only, I might add, because of my future position. And perhaps my face.” He flashed his sister a wicked grin. “I do have a damn fine face.”
“Although it’s nothing compared to your arrogance,” she said sweetly.
“If one is going to do something, one should do it well.” He rested his head on the back of the chair and stared up at the coffered ceiling. “They are all so well bred, so well behaved, so eager to please. So bloody perfect. There isn’t the least bit of fun in any one of them, you know.”
She snorted. “I certainly do. I was once one of them.”
“Not at all, Maddy. You always gave gentlemen the vague, but nonetheless distinct, idea that there was something just a bit improper about you, a scandalous nature lurking just beneath the surface.”
“Nonsense. It was only my relationship with you that made it appear so. Guilt by association and all that. My behavior was always above reproach.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Well, perhaps not always.”
What a Lady Wants Page 7
