by Cheryl Bolen
“How is it such a beautiful woman has not remarried?” he asked Carlotta. “How long has it been?”
“My dear Captain Ennis died four years ago,” Carlotta said, reverently lowering her long lashes.
Pooh! thought Felicity. Her dear captain, my foot. If he were so very dear she would still be wearing black, like me. Then she was reminded of Mr. Moreland’s desire to see her wear colors. And she blushed at the memory of his seductive glance at her own body, clad in the eternal black. She found herself wondering how Mr. Moreland would respond to her were she to don a low-cut purple dress like Carlotta.
Then she was angry at herself for harboring such thoughts. She clutched Michael’s locket tightly, as if the action would remind her of the fidelity she had pledged.
Despite being the center of attention, Thomas stayed but a short time before making his excuses. Directing his attention to Felicity, he said, “Would you and your sister do me the goodness of accompanying Dianna and me to the Pump Room in the morning?”
How could she refuse? She had already spent his money. “It would be our pleasure, Mr. Moreland,” she said, refusing to look at him.
Chapter Seven
It had been a very long time since Felicity had allowed a man to escort her into society. Perhaps that was why she and Mr. Moreland seemed to be drawing an inordinate amount of curious stares as they made their way across the stone floors of the Pump Room to get their obligatory glass of foul-tasting water. Or perhaps it was Mr. Moreland’s dark good looks that drew the attention. He was so very tall. Much taller than Michael had been, she thought as she fingered her husband’s locket. She directed her gaze at Thomas’s finely crafted face. A lock of black hair swept over his stern brow. Guilty over her admiration of his looks, she lowered her lashes, only to be presented a view of his muscled thighs.
She looked up quickly and into the face of Colonel Gordon. He was not looking at her but at Mr. Moreland, anger flaring in his green eyes. He seemed to catch himself and shifted his gaze to Felicity, a feeble smile playing at his lips.
“Ah, Mrs. Harrison, you’re about early this morning,” he said, recovering his usual air of gallantry as he took her hand and pressed his lips lightly over her gloved fingers.
She had never thought the colonel a small man, but now he seemed rather frail. Now that she compared him to the ruggedness of Mr. Moreland.
“I am showing the splendors of Bath to its newest resident,” she said. “You remember Mr. Moreland?” She took a drink of the nasty-tasting water.
The colonel nodded at Thomas. “Moreland,” he said brusquely.
“Do you find, Colonel, the waters beneficial to your affliction?” Thomas asked, casting a glance at the colonel’s cane.
Felicity observed the colonel stiffen. How utterly insensitive Mr. Moreland was! Colonel Gordon, who rarely referred to his injury, preferred to believe that no one noticed it.
“I’m as fit as I was when I led a thousand men into battle,” he testified, then turned to address Felicity. “How did you find last night’s musicale?”
“I suffered through it tolerably,” she said, giving her glass back to the attendant, a grimace on her face.
“Ah, the things one does for one’s siblings,” the colonel said.
She smiled and glanced at Glee, who was taking a turn about the large room with Dianna. “Having nothing to compare it to, Glee did enjoy it excessively.”
“I believe Miss Pembroke has taken well,” Colonel Gordon said. “The young bucks fairly clamor to be near her, as well as Miss Moreland.”
Felicity looked up at Mr. Moreland, her eyes sparkling. “See, you had no reason to worry over Dianna.”
He looked pleased as his eyes followed his sister, who was dressed in a mint green promenade gown.
“I believe Glee’s as delighted over her new friend as she is over her debut into society,” Felicity said.
Carlotta entered the room and joined her friends, her ever-present lavender scent too strong for Felicity’s tastes. “I cannot recall seeing the Widow Harrison out this early before,” Carlotta said in her rich voice.
“I assure all of you I am an early riser,” Felicity protested. “But having no taste for the waters, I had no reason to be about in the mornings before Glee was out.”
Carlotta slipped herself between Felicity and Thomas. “Is this your first visit to the Pump Room, Mr. Moreland?” she asked.
“Indeed, it is,” he answered.
She hooked her arm into his. “Come, let us take a spin about the room.”
Felicity watched as they walked away. She was struck by what a handsome couple they made. Two manes of lustrous black hair. Two perfect bodies. But something was wrong. Despite their beauty, they did not belong together. Not that Carlotta did not deserve to find a mate. It was just that Mr. Moreland was not the man for her.
Even if Carlotta did not know it.
Colonel Gordon offered Felicity his arm. “Come, my dear, a walk will do you good.”
She slipped her arm through his. Why would a walk do her good? Was something wrong with her?
“I must confess I am worried about you,” he began.
“About me?” Felicity asked.
He nodded gravely. “I cannot approve of your alliance with Mr. Moreland. You must remember your sister. You owe it to your dear papa to secure for her an equal match.”
“That is precisely what my intentions are, Colonel.”
“Then I need not inform you that friendship with a merchant could drive away men of good birth.”
“From Glee?”
He nodded.
“I do not believe a good man would be shallow enough to shun Glee because of her family’s friendship with Mr. Moreland.” She quickened her step, watching Glee’s back, concentrating on her sister’s bouncing red curls.
He sighed. “I hope you’re right, my dear.”
Why did the man always refer to her as my dear? She had never particularly noticed it before, and now it annoyed her excessively.
He patted her hand. “I have written to an officer friend of mine in India to inquire about Mr. Moreland.”
She wheeled at him, anger flashing in her eyes. “I fail to see how Mr. Moreland’s affairs connect to you, Colonel.”
“Oh, but they do.” He covered her hand with his and spoke as one would to an underling or a child. “Since you have no father or husband to look out for you, I must take it upon myself to protect you from unsavory persons.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I hardly think Mr. Moreland an unsavory person. I have dined at Winston Hall and assure you both Mr. Moreland and his sister conduct themselves as do those who were born to such wealth.”
She detected a slowing in his uneven step. “I had not realized you had been a guest at Winston Hall.”
Because she had not wanted anyone to know. She lifted her chin, met his quizzing gaze, and spoke in a frigid voice. “I do not apprise you of all my movements, Colonel.” She saw Mr. Moreland walking toward her, his black eyes on hers, Carlotta still clinging to his arm.
“I believe it’s my turn to take a stroll around the room with Mrs. Harrison,” Thomas said, shooting a steely look at the colonel.
Felicity was grateful to be rescued from the colonel. He had become so possessive lately. Annoyingly so. In fact, he was driving her away with his prying and cynicism. She gave Mr. Moreland a weak smile and took his proffered arm.
Neither of them said anything when they first started walking. Then, Felicity spoke. “What is your opinion of the water, Mr. Moreland?”
“As nasty as reported.”
“And the Pump Room?”
He looked down at her. “Quite nice, actually. What I have seen of Bath so far is favorable.”
“I am told that only London exceeds it for variety of fine shops,” she offered.
“And the architecture, too, is impressive—on a much smaller scale than London, of course,” he added.
“Have you been to the Royal Crescent?”<
br />
“Not yet. I’d like to very much. Would I be presuming on your generosity, Mrs. Harrison, to ask you to walk there with me this morning?”
She looked up at his hopeful expression and did not have the heart to refuse him. After all, he was paying handsomely for her time. Besides, she loved to stroll through Bath, and today was perfect for enjoying Crescent Fields. “It’s a fine day for a walk,” she said.
Just feet outside the Pump Room, Felicity’s chiding started. “I believe, Mr., Moreland, you are overdue a lesson in good manners.”
“Have I not been amiable to you?” he asked lightly.
“To me, yes. But your conduct toward Colonel Gordon was abominable!”
“Because I referred to his affliction?”
“Yes. It was totally insensitive.”
Thomas didn’t believe the colonel had a sensitive bone in his body. “I will be the soul of compassion if you can truthfully tell me Colonel Gordon did not malign me during your stroll about the room.” He gazed down into the golden loveliness of her face.
She didn’t speak for a moment, nor did she meet his gaze. When she spoke, she smoothly shifted the conversation. “And your conduct toward Mrs. Ennis lacks gallantry." Though her words held censure, her tone was teasing.
“I beg to differ. I pay appropriate homage to her beauty.” He purposely walked on the opposite side of Cheap Street from Mrs. Simmons’s millinery establishment to avoid being recognized by Jamie. A glance toward the boy, who sat in front of the shop eating an orange, brought a smile to Thomas’s lips. One of his footmen had already begun his assignment of bringing the lad fresh oranges daily.
“I can’t argue with that,” Felicity said. “But what of you ignoring her hints that she wanted to accompany us to the Royal Crescent?”
“Hints? I did not know Mrs. Ennis could be subtle about anything.”
Felicity tossed back her head and laughed. “You are quite wicked, you know.”
Laughter emanating from her somber person was balm to his soul. He looked down at her with smiling eyes and was rewarded with a view of her deep dimples, which of late had too often been hidden in her somberness. “Yes, I know,” he said.
She swatted at his arm, and he answered by placing his big hand over hers. Sweet heaven! but her hand was tiny. And warm. A strange, ethereal feeling washed over him, leaving his heart light.
They walked past Theater Royal, and he was disappointed she did not mention the play she had agreed to attend with him.
“Since you are so well acquainted with the sins of my family,” Felicity began, “I must tell you I have been most pleased with George’s behavior—at least in the past few days. Despite that you’ve made generous funds available to him, he has not gone near the gaming tables. And did you notice him coming to the Pump Room as we were leaving?”
“Most uncharacteristic, getting up before midafternoon.”
She frowned. “I forgot. You would know all of our habits only too well. I suppose you employed a Bow Street Runner to follow us about.”
“But, of course. Only the best, you know.”
She heaved an exasperated sigh, then once again shifted the conversation. “I wonder if George fancies himself in love.”
Thomas shrugged. “About your brother’s gambling, don’t get your hopes up too much, the quarter is young yet.”
She nodded, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. “Has your sister remarked on George?”
So Felicity had been aware of her brother’s infatuation with Dianna. “Being reticent, Dianna shares little with me.”
“If only Glee could be more like her.” Felicity shook her head. “I know the color of eyes of every young man Glee has ever found handsome, for she endlessly enumerates each man’s merits. And, of course, the problem is they all have merit, and there are far too many of them. I do wish she could be more constant.”
That Felicity chose to share her views with him sent deep waves of contentment over him. Friendship was the first rung on the climb to love. “She’s young yet,” he murmured, patting the top of Felicity’s hand.
He watched as her other hand darted toward the locket she always wore at her neck. He started to ask if her husband had given her the locket, but changed his mind. He didn’t want to hear the answer. He had only to gaze upon her black dress to know where her heart lay. He kicked the cobblestone. Damn Captain Michael Harrison!
“Do we go to the play tonight?” she asked.
His heart soared. “We do. Dianna is also looking forward to seeing her first Shakespeare production.”
“And, being a lady, she prefers comedy too, no doubt?”
“But of course.”
“And you, oh lofty thinker, what do you prefer?”
“The histories.”
She nodded. “And if they have a battle in them, so much the better, I suppose.”
“I perceive you say that because I’m a male.”
“As you say all women prefer the comedies.”
“Touche.”
“Do you really suppose Richard HI said, ‘My kingdom for a horse’?” she asked.
“Not for a minute. It’s just the genius of Shakespeare.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s the same for ‘Et tu, Brute.’ ”
He nodded. “I expect Julius Caesar’s actual words not only lacked poignancy but were likely unmentionable.”
By now they had reached the Royal Crescent and strolled along the half-moon-shaped block of fine town houses, talking comfortably all the while, then stopping to rest at Crescent Fields.
“Since you’re not bashful over instructing me on proper etiquette, I have a question for you, Mrs. Harrison.”
Felicity arched her brows.
His heart thudded. “Would it be acceptable for me to send you flowers?”
With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he watched as her hand leaped to the locket and fingered it Then she looked up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Was it embarrassment? “If you want to waste your precious money on flowers for me, I have no objection.”
Rung two, he thought.
Colonel Gordon had not seen Felicity lift her laughing face to a man since Captain Michael Harrison was alive. Watching it then was painful, but not as painful as it was now. Now that Felicity’s dimples creased for the Upstart of Winston Hall. Was Gordon going to have to eliminate one more man before he could claim his beautiful Felicity? Nothing would give him greater pleasure.
After she left the Pump Room with the Upstart, the colonel hurried to Lady Catherine Bullin. “You would bring me great honor if you would stroll about the room with me, my lady,” he said.
Since not a single man had so honored her, Lady Catherine smiled widely and took his proffered arm.
The woman, who was but a pair of years older than Felicity, repulsed him. A homelier woman of quality he had never beheld. ‘Twas no wonder she had never married.
He waited until they had passed the orchestra, then he broached the subject that had forced him to tolerate Lady Catherine’s company. “It has come to my attention you have no love for Mr. Moreland.”
“I loathe him.”
He liked her more already. Even if her weak chin promised to sink into her fleshy neck. A smile curled at his lips. “As do I. That’s what I want to talk to you about.” He hoped she wasn’t disappointed he had not sought her out for herself. After all, he knew himself to be an uncommonly good-looking man, even if he did have to use a cane to walk. “I have had a distressing communication from my friend in India, Colonel Armstrong, who has a rather juicy bit of gossip about Moreland.”
Her brows arched.
“Normally, I wouldn’t repeat such, but since the Upstart of Winston Hall has lavished his attentions upon Mrs. Harrison—whom I am quite close to—I fear for her well-being.”
A smile tweaked at Lady Catherine’s lips. “You must tell me what the odious man has done.”
The colonel clear
ed his throat. “Armstrong told me while the Upstart was in India he lived out of wedlock with a dark-skinned Indian woman.”
“That’s disgusting,” she said, “but I’m hardly surprised.”
He lowered his voice as a pair of young ladies strolled past them. “The pity of it is, several children were born of the alliance—children he left unprovided for when he came back to England.”
“At least the men of our class make settlements for their by-blows,” she said with indignation.
Gordon nodded. “I desire to protect Mrs. Harrison from the dishonorable man, but I can hardly repeat such gossip to her. Because of my feelings for her, she would think I was merely jealous of the Upstart.”
Lady Catherine’s gloved hand patted his arm. “Leave it to me, Colonel. We ladies of nobility must watch out for one another.”
Chapter Eight
Glee and Dianna, accompanied by George and Blanks, exited the box amidst the rustle of swishing silks. Felicity turned to Thomas, who sat beside her in the dimly lit theater. “Do you not want to have a cigar during intermission?”
“ ‘Tis one bad habit I never acquired,” he answered.
“Let me see, you don’t smoke. You don’t gamble. Surely you have acquired at least one vice,” Felicity teased.
“Much more than one, I am sure.” His eyes dropped to the flowers she wore. A gift from him. That she wore them sent a possessive thrill humming through him. He settled back in his plush seat and directed his full attention at her. “And how have you enjoyed the play thus far?”
She didn’t answer right away, but the happy expression on her face assured him she was collecting her thoughts. “It’s so much more than I had hoped for. The language, of course, is beautiful. The costumes are wonderful. And the cast is superb.” She gave Thomas an animated look. “As you can see, I’m in raptures.”
