Felicity and the Damaged Reputation: A witty, sweet Regency Romance

by Alicia Cameron

  The little man whose handkerchief she was ruining ventured a remark. ‘Leaving home, miss?’

  Felicity looked at him, ‘No — oh, yes, yes! My dear home!’ she said, remembering the comforting welcome of Grosvenor Square and realising that Oldfield was not nearly as dear. The little man with the moleskin waistcoat had his sparrow’s eyes upon her and offered her something from a stained cone of brown paper. She gazed inside and took out a chestnut, still warm. She ate it absently.

  ‘We have a way to go ‘til the next stop, miss. I ‘ave always found it to be a relief to get things off me chest, as they say. You might do worse than tell them to me, you know. I’m as tight as a—’he coughed and rethought his simile, ‘well, as the lock box of a miser. It might do you good, miss.’

  She looked at him dubiously. He was undoubtedly of another class entirely, but his inquisitive eye was intelligent, and he was of such a cheery disposition, as well as being kind enough to share his handkerchief and his chestnuts, that she thought she could trust him.

  As she smiled weakly, she began to tell her tale.

  If Durant had been able to see her respond so easily to the insinuating little stranger, he would surely have exploded.

  Chapter 14

  The Search

  The lugubrious butler at Lady Ellingham’s was surprised to see Lord Durant arrive at this hour, or at any. He coughed and said deprecatingly, ‘Her ladyship has only just commenced breakfast, my lord, she is not available for visitors, alas.’

  ‘I wish to see Miss Fleet, not her ladyship. I trust she has breakfasted?’ he asked sardonically, it being twelve of the clock.

  ‘I will bring her, my lord. Please wait in the library, if you will.’ He opened the door and then turned towards the breakfast room to fetch Miss Fleet.

  Durant had only time to march two lengths of the room before Fleet appeared, a frown on her face and her body trembling. ‘Viscount! I hardly though it possible that you wished to see me—’

  ‘Miss Oldfield is missing. Do you know where she has gone?’ he asked without preamble.

  Miss Fleet sat as though her legs had failed her.

  ‘I do not know — she was looking for a position, my lord. I thought after our last day at the library, that she had given up her desire to go. I told her—’

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘Oh, my lord, I told her that the Fentons had paid for her season, not her aunt. I thought it would make her realise how much they held her in affection and let her decide to stay—’

  ‘Instead it has made her feel so overwhelmed that she has left.’ He concluded harshly.

  ‘Oh, my lord, I did not mean—’

  ‘No, this is not your fault, but mine. Do you know of any positions that she was hoping to achieve? Quick!’ he added as she began to cry.

  She stopped and said, ‘There is a list in my reticule. Let me fetch it!’ She returned in a minute and Durant took the list, barely looking at it and headed for the door.

  He was interrupted in his passage by the form of Lady Ellingham. ‘What—’ she demanded, ‘is the meeting of this. You! I do not give men of your stamp leave to enter my home.’

  ‘And I,’ said Durant with a look at her bizarre appearance (wig, bonnet and yellow lace) ‘Do not discuss my business with cruel old lunatics who do not know what is due to their family.’

  Miss Fleet ran forward before Lady Ellingham, never before spoken to thus, collapsed from shock.

  ‘Find her, my lord!’ Miss Fleet cried after the vanishing form of Lord Durant.

  Beatty, the long-faced butler made a noise, ‘Miss Felicity? Is she all right, my lord?’

  Durant looked down at the hand on his arm, a liberty that no servant, save his valet, had ever dared make. He looked into the old man’s eyes, which surprised him by glistening, and did not say the words of rebuke that sprang to his lips. ‘She will be,’ he assured him.

  The party in the landau, who had been given the bare fact of Durant’s mission on the way, were alone, and a little less relaxed with each other than usual. ‘You are very fine in your new clothes, Mr Joyce,’ said Anne teasingly, ‘But, I miss your blue coat — even though I often wanted to offer to mend it. It fits you rather better.’

  ‘This is my brother’s coat. He rather felt that my other one might damage his reputation in society.’

  They exchanged their old smiles, but Anne Clarence still was unusually unsure of how to continue. After a pause Mr Joyce said, ‘Lord Durant is handsome, I’d forgotten how handsome. And he dresses well.’

  This made Anne smile. ‘I shall tell him your good opinion of his charms.’

  ‘I only meant—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You have chosen well.’

  ‘Well, he rather chose me.’ She looked at him. ‘And do you expect me to marry for such a reason as a handsome face? If that were true, I should like your new coat a good deal better than I do.’

  ‘I say,’ said Mr Joyce in the manner of old, ‘what on earth have you got against my brother’s coat?’

  ‘Nothing at all. It is a very fine coat and you look rather impressive in it. In fact, I am rather shy of my smart friend.’ He looked as though he was going to reply but she continued, ‘It is just that I and the blue coat have many happy memories together. I thought of it often since I have been in town.’

  ‘Anne, Miss Clarence, I mean—’. He leaned towards her, his handsome head very near hers, when she heard a cry from a passing carriage. ‘Stop!’ She gazed over and saw a lady looking at her from a carriage. ‘Anne, is it really you?’ It was her neighbour, Miss Charlotte Fortescue, in a travelling carriage, looking rather distracted. The old lady blinked. ‘And is that — it cannot be Mr Joyce?’

  ‘Miss Fortescue,’ said the curate with aplomb, ‘It is indeed. You look rather—’

  ‘She’s done it this time!’ said the old lady to Anne, clutching at her reticule. ‘I told her that one day her folly would lead her to perdition, and so it is!’

  ‘Lady Letitia?’

  Still ringing Letitia’s metaphorical neck with the reticule, the old lady said, ‘I cannot wait, my dear, I have to go to the park where I believe Durant is driving. I must find him.’

  Before she could give the knock to the coachman, Anne said soothingly, ‘This is Durant’s carriage. He’s on an errand at the moment, but will return tout suite, I assure you.’

  Mr Joyce leapt down and opened the travelling carriage, helping the lady down and then into the landau.

  ‘Have you your medicine?’ he asked, seeing her face was pale as stone.

  Miss Fortescue took her drops out of her bag and put a little on her tongue, breathing heavily and shutting her eyes as she lay back on the squabs. ‘Durant will know what to do.’

  ‘To be sure he will, my dear lady,’ soothed Anne with a look of concern shot at Joyce, ‘You try to be calm, and you can tell him all about it presently.’

  ‘She has eloped with Lord Stanford!’

  ‘On his last legs—’ said Joyce distractedly.

  ‘Pardon?’ asked Anne.

  ‘Stanford went to school with me. Godfrey told me last night that he’s on his last legs—’

  ‘If that cant phrase means what I think it does,’ said Miss Fortescue, ‘your brother is quite right. But Letitia has been turned by his handsome face. Oh, Anne, that girl has been such a trial to me.’

  ‘Letitia comes into her fortune fully when she marries, I suppose,’ said Anne. ‘The silly young girl.’

  Mr Joyce muttered something and Anne looked her inquiry. ‘It’s just,’ he said in her ear, ‘that he was always an ugly customer.’

  ‘I should think so, to be after an heiress’s money.’

  ‘If only that were all…’

  Durant came down the steps of Ellingham House. ‘Aunt Charlotte,’ he said as he got into the landau, ‘I did not think to see you until tomorrow.’

  ‘I came early, but still too late!’ she flung herself onto his chest
.

  Anne told him baldly. ‘Lady Letitia has eloped with Lord Stanford.’

  Benedict went to call on Miss Carter-Phipps first, since her home was rather nearer than Miss Althorpe’s. However this only took him back to the park again, bristling with impatience. He asked himself why Felicity had sought a position. She was safe, surely? Only, she was such a young woman, and rather like the kittens, the name he called his beautiful sisters. She was built on sturdier lines than Honoria or Serena, but her face was a bloom of innocence and gullibility that Serena, for one, had never possessed. Something childlike was upon her, and like a baby she trusted and moved along, relying on hands to swipe her up before the table she shook dropped the pot on her head. He suspected she had gone on this way all her life. The last time she’d been saved was by his uncle and aunt. Now they were all in on it. Sloane, him, his uncle and aunt, her two best friends and now Durant, whose guilt leaked out of him like from a broken pot. Even Lady Jersey had been moved to lend some limited aid, and when had that august personage ever lowered herself to help a disgraced debutante? Add to that, before he left this morning, the entire staff of Grosvenor Square seemed to be worried and upset. Her maid had even shed a tear.

  Contrast with Jenny. No one makes allowances for Lady Sumner’s feelings, for she pretends not to have them. Her widowhood had been comforted only by some visits from his own mother (few because of the distance) and one commiserating letter from her sister. He himself had been too far away, but at least she had been able to express her mixed feelings to Benedict on paper. She had been glad to have separated from Frederick Sumner, and dreaded his occasional visits to his son (always with his aunt, Lady Harrington as was their agreement) but still so sad for his loss, for all the lost hope of repairing a life ill-spent. But no one swooped in to save Jenny, though he had once tried. No, Jenny saved herself.

  But however it was, Benedict could not help worrying about Felicity. She had once confessed to him that she knew she would have to accept a position at the end of the season, but Benedict had seen the male admirers queuing and had supposed one of them would be content to make a beauty of fine family and a happy disposition his wife, and had smiled at her indulgently. It would be a good life with such a girl. Perhaps he should not have tried to stop Samuel Stone after all. Perhaps he should have offered for her himself. But he could not offer for anyone…

  He spotted Miss Althorpe, Vivien, and she pointed out Miss Carter-Phipps who was driving in a hired phaeton with Sloane. Benedict narrowed his eyes at this, obviously significant, but he had no time to consider that now. Neither Miss Carter-Phipps, nor Miss Althorpe, had any idea of Felicity’s whereabouts. Their shock and fear made it evident that their accounts were genuine. He let them all know what steps they had taken in as few words as possible.

  ‘We should all drive to Grosvenor Square for news!’ said the Lieutenant.

  ‘Of course, my dear Lieutenant, we shall if you think so. I’m sure your judgement is best, and intentions always correct. But I cannot help feel that Lady Aurora might wish us otherwhere at the moment,’ said Miss Carter-Phipps, with her fine eyes upon Benedict’s friend.

  ‘I believe you are correct, my love—’

  Vivien Althorpe squealed. ‘Then it is quite decided?’

  ‘Quite!’ said Althea with a look of satisfaction. ‘The lieutenant spoke to my father this morning.’

  ‘Sloane! You old dog!’ shouted Benedict. And held his hand up to shake his friend’s. The Lieutenant was unable to stop his grin from expressing his happiness. ‘Mind you, it was entirely uncertain for a time. Mr Carter-Phipps had a conversation with Althea after my interview with him and I’m sure he told her she might marry a man much richer or of a more elevated position.’ He looked askance at his love.

  Althea smiled at him, then said calmly to them all. ‘Oh yes, but I told him that my mind was quite made up. And my papa understands what that signifies. I never change it.’

  ‘Oh, Althea, I am so pleased!’ Vivienne smiled. ‘But now what shall we do for Felicity?’

  Even Benedict found himself hanging on Miss Carter-Phipps words. ‘We, Vivien, shall drive to Mama’s and await news from the gentlemen. The lieutenant shall naturally go with his friend to see what aid he can give in finding Felicity.’

  The Lieutenant took her small gloved hand and kissed it. ‘Naturally,’ he said and leapt down.

  ‘They must find Felicity. She was my good luck charm in meeting my Lieutenant,’ said Althea as they watched the men stride off.

  ‘You are normally so careful in these matters, Althea. You bring your suitors to the point, of course—’

  ‘Well… that was for practice,’ said Althea placidly.

  ‘But you always consider every possibility before you act.’

  ‘I know. For me it was a coup de foudre,’ said Althea, in a dreamier voice than Vivien had ever heard her use. ‘And usually, you know, I detest such claims in others.’ She added in her normal placid tone. ‘It was the same for him. Love at first sight. I did not bring him to the point at all, he claimed me as his own in one dance.’

  ‘Oh, my dear! But you did not tell me…’

  ‘I awaited Papa’s consent of course,’ she said severely.

  ‘Oh, of course. You are too sensible to disoblige your parents.’

  ‘I have always thought so. But I was merely waiting for Papa’s decision to tell you whether you would be my maid of honour in April, at a formal event, or at a runaway match with a special licence.’

  ‘You are under age. You would not!’

  ‘To be with my Lieutenant, I certainly should. Once the deed was done, my papa would concede. It is not as though the Lieutenant is penniless, and we have known the family forever, yet we never met before this season.’

  ‘Well, I shall be delighted to stand beside you when you wed.’

  ‘And so too will Felicity. I am resolved upon it.’

  ‘It will be most frustrating just to wait to hear what has happened to her.’

  ‘Of course we will not just wait. We know her better than anyone. We,’ she said significantly, ‘shall investigate.’

  Wilbert Fenton had made short work of upending Felicity’s chamber to look for anything that might help in identifying where she had gone. There were no letters in her bureau, no conveniently-ringed adverts in any journal. She had taken her jewellery, the small sum of money that he knew she kept in a net purse, which his lady had given her for the purpose, and some clothes. His wife had come in, and despite her red-rimmed eyes, had identified, after looking into two lofty armoires in the chamber, that Felicity was wearing a straw bonnet with long ribbons and a dark blue pelisse. ‘They are her plainest, but still far too fashionable for a school teacher. She will be remarked if she travelled by coach.’ She has taken three dresses also, the yellow muslin, the dark blue which went so well with her cashmere shawl, but she has left that behind, and the sprigged white one that made Mr Rush say she looked like an angel from heaven.’ She put herself into her husband’s arms and cried, ‘Oh, my dear, please find her.’ She cried once more. ‘What if it is not a position? What if it is a man? She is so innocent, she might believe anyone.’

  Wilbert Fenton did not think so, but a terrible thought, of the man he recently made an enemy from, pulled up him short. He kissed his lady’s head and said, ‘My dear, I must go out for a moment, I have someone to see.’

  At Stanford’s lodgings, he found Durant’s landau, with Miss Anne Clarence and an unknown man sitting in it.

  Fenton raised his brows and his habitual lazy gait climbed the stairs to the door. It was still ajar, and in the hall he found the Viscount with his hands on the lapels of a greasy attendant, whose feet were now almost airborne. ‘You will tell me where your master has gone.’

  ‘Master, master?’ Spluttered the old man, ‘he’s no more my master than you are, damn your hide. He has to pay servants before they be mastered, I haven’t had a groat these six months.

  ‘I am not concer
ned with your complaints. Where did Stanford take my cousin?’

  ‘Your cousin?’ cried Wilbert Fenton. ‘I was afraid Stanford might be behind Felicity’s disappearance.’

  ‘He’s run off with Tish. She did not have the sense to take her maid with her! But if I do not find her quickly…’

  ‘He left for the border. He hired a coach, and if I knew where he’d hid the money he paid for the hire, I would have had it before now.’ Squeaked the retainer.

  Durant seemed to remember he was clutching the man and let him go violently so that he tumbled backwards and only with difficulty stayed on his feet. ‘Phaw! Get gone with you, villain.’ As the man slunk away, he turned to Fenton, ‘I suppose I must go after them. They have a couple of hours start, but with hired cattle, I shall probably catch them before the border. But perhaps not before tonight. What news of Miss Oldfield?’

  ‘Nothing final. Did Miss Fleet have any more to say?’

  ‘Only that Miss Oldfield has been looking for a position since the Telford’s ball. And that in order to make her stay, Miss Fleet suggested that it was not her aunt who paid for her finery.’

  ‘But instead it overwhelmed her with too much gratitude. She has my wife and I painted as saints. My wife may be, but you can imagine how ill that sits on me.’ He gave a deprecating laugh.

  ‘You were, it must be said, very generous to a child you hardly knew.’

  ‘Pah!’ Fenton shook his head. ‘She was a joy to us from the first moment. The money was as nothing. To give her what her old, rich aunt would not, was at first an amusement for my wife, but became more. She is a lovely girl, quite lovely. She has given us more—’ Durant was shocked to see a glaze on the eye of Fenton, but he shook it away. ‘I must return to Grosvenor Square. Benedict may have found something.’