THE BRIDE WORE BLUE

by Cheryl Bolen

  Felicity rejoiced that her brother had found something to keep him away from the gaming table. She liked Miss Moreland excessively and only hoped her brother would be good enough for the lovely Dianna.

  When the dance was finished, Felicity watched with satisfaction as George met Dianna coming off the dance floor. The open welcome on Dianna’s face pleased Felicity excessively. Then Felicity turned to greet Mr. Moreland and Carlotta. That Carlotta’s arm tucked possessively into Thomas’s somehow irritated Felicity.

  The four of them—Felicity and Carlotta, along with Thomas and Colonel Gordon—attempted to converse amiably, though, as always, there was a perceptible chill between Thomas and the colonel.

  “You must be extremely proud, Mr. Moreland, at how well your sister has taken despite her unfortunate birth,” the colonel said.

  “Actually,” Thomas replied, “I remember her birth quite well, and there was nothing at all unfortunate about it. I daresay you’re remembering your own mother’s words.”

  Carlotta coughed.

  “Oh look,” Felicity said, “here is Mr. Blankenship.”

  George’s friend Mr. Blankenship had little taste for these affairs and was now abandoned by George while he danced with Dianna.

  “I say,” Blanks said, “where’s Miss Pembroke tonight?”

  “I fear she is abed with a troubling headache,” Felicity answered. Once again, that feeling of unexplained fear settled within her. She was unaccountably worried about her sister. Could Glee’s illness be more than a headache? Felicity began to think of all the afflictions a headache might signal, and her worry mounted.

  Even when she waltzed with Mr. Moreland later in the evening, she felt no sense of ease as she had recently begun to feel in his presence.

  He held one hand while resting his other hand securely about her waist. She no longer felt ill at ease when he touched her. His touch elicited warmth and contentment. And even something more. She stiffened when she realized what that something more was. It was desire. How could she allow another man to evoke such feelings? That deepest of intimacy was something she could only give to one man. And he was dead.

  She should feel dreadfully guilty. What would Michael think? She was convinced Michael stood in heaven looking down at her. She had often communicated to him during the four years since his death. Only lately those one-sided conversations had grown farther and farther apart.

  “Are you pleased that I danced thrice with Mrs. Ennis?” Thomas asked Felicity.

  And this was only the second time he had danced with her. That it was a waltz, though, oddly comforted her. For some unexplained reason, she would not at all like for him to waltz with Carlotta. Felicity smiled at him. “You did very well. Now if you would only be civil to Colonel Gordon.”

  “Do you find that I am an honest man?”

  She thought on it for a moment. He would not allow her to lie about his nonexistent aunt though it would have increased his favor. “I believe you to be an honest man though there is much about you that I don’t know.” She thought of him living with an Indian woman and siring children with her. Her feeling of unease, which had started with worry over Glee, grew.

  “I abhor liars,” he said. “I cannot feign fondness for Colonel Gordon, because I cannot like the man.”

  She could not defend the colonel. After all, he treated Mr. Moreland with great malice. “I beg that for my sake you will be civil to him.”

  “If it pleases you, I will,” he said coldly.

  With his words, a deep contentment rushed through her. Could Mr. Moreland really be interested in her and not in what she could do for his sister and for him?

  She thought on this for a moment but decided there were many more eligible women than she. She looked around the dance floor at all the women in beautiful gowns and lamented her own dreariness in black silk. And, of course, Carlotta was the prettiest woman she had ever seen. Even if she did wear the neckline of her dresses too low. Why, tonight her breasts spilled into the bodice of a rather indecent purple silk gown. Carlotta’s tastes were so flamboyant, Felicity wondered why Carlotta had not set her cap for the colonel. His loud taste—which extended to a bright red carriage—more closely mirrored Carlotta’s than Felicity’s.

  Felicity decided Mr. Moreland’s interest in her was a result of his alliance with her family. If he were the honest man he purported to be, he would be bound to respect her above all others. And that, she thought decisively, explained why he focused his attentions on her. Certainly she had made it clear she had no interest in developing a more intimate relationship with any man.

  They were silent the rest of the waltz though not detached. For the second time tonight she felt almost a oneness with him, a sense that no others shared the room. Her consciousness was totally unaware of the hum of voices, the strains of the orchestra, the rainbow of lovely gowns swishing around them. When the music faded away, she experienced a deep disappointment.

  As he had done after the last waltz, Thomas enclosed her hand in his as they strolled across the dance floor to rejoin their companions.

  When the assembly came to an end, Felicity accepted her cloak from Thomas and bid goodnight to a scowling Colonel Gordon as she walked off with Thomas and got in his stately carriage. She thought of the colonel’s flashy carriage. Perhaps Mr. Moreland had the innate good breeding Colonel Gordon lacked.

  As she had done on the way to the Upper Assembly Rooms, Felicity sat next to Dianna while Thomas sat across from them.

  “I cannot believe that your brother has only just started coming to the Assembly Rooms,” Dianna exclaimed. “He is quite the best dancer in all of Bath, I declare.”

  At least Miss Moreland did not hold George in disfavor. Which was very good. As far as Felicity knew, it had now been a month since George had been to the gaming rooms. “I believe you’re a good influence on both my brother and my sister,” Felicity replied. “It appears George comes to the Assembly Rooms only to dance with you, Miss Moreland.”

  It was far too dark in the carriage to see whether Dianna blushed or not, but Felicity was certain she did.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Harrison, will you allow me to fetch you in the morning for a trip to the Pump Room?” Thomas asked.

  Her heart pounding for an unexplained reason, Felicity thought again of Glee. “Yes. A pity my sister is ill. I daresay the water there would do her good.” Felicity did not know if she could trust herself around Mr. Moreland. He had a positively unsettling effect on her.

  “You will have to bring her along, then,” Thomas said.

  When they got to her house, Thomas stepped down from the carriage, assisted Felicity down, then walked her to the door. He took her hand into his and brought it to his lips. Warm, soft lips, Felicity thought, her knees growing weak.

  Her face flaming, she mumbled good night then scurried into the house. With the door firmly closed behind her, she flipped the locket open. She had to see Michael’s face. She had already forgotten the sound of his voice. She could not allow herself to forget his smiling face. She took a long look at his miniature. Her eyes scanned the portrait from his chestnut hair to his military dress.

  Then with sadness, she closed the locket and rushed up the stairs. On the one hand, Mr. Moreland caused her anxiety; on the other hand, Glee summoned worry. Even if it would rob Glee of needed sleep, Felicity was determined to check on her sister. That was the only thing that would ease her mind.

  Glee’s door squeaked as Felicity opened it. The room was in total darkness and—despite the cold outside—the window was open. The floor creaked when Felicity walked to the window to close it, then tiptoed to Glee’s bed. She reached out to feel her sister’s forehead to see if Glee might be burning with fever.

  But Felicity’s hand came into contact with nothing but a pillow. Felicity’s pulse sped up. She could not hear Glee’s breathing. Her trembling hands moved along the empty pillow, then slapped at the smooth silk covering.

  The bed was empty.

&nb
sp; Chapter Eleven

  A trembling Felicity tried to assure herself her sister had merely gone down to the kitchen to get a cup of warm milk. She felt at Glee’s bedside table for a candle and lit it from the lighted sconce on the wall outside her sister’s chamber door.

  But why hadn‘t Glee summoned Lettie? Their abigail would have been only too happy to wait on an infirm Glee, Felicity realized as she trod down two flights of stairs, only to walk into a black kitchen.

  Now shaking with fear, Felicity raced upstairs and threw open the door to Glee’s room. Her eyes fell on the smooth silken spread over her sister’s bed. The bed had not been slept in.

  Could the open window mean that Glee had escaped from her room that way? Felicity ran to the linen press and held her candle close to see what dress was missing. And her heart thudded.

  All of Glee’s new dresses were gone. Which could only mean one thing. Her sister did not intend to return.

  Felicity’s mind raced back to the unwelcome words Mr. Moreland had uttered about Glee. Had he been right? Was Glee meeting an unsuitable man in stealth?

  Good God! They could be on the road to Gretna Green this very moment. Tears began to stream down Felicity’s cheeks, and her breath grew short. Surely this couldn’t be happening. ‘Twas worse than a bad dream.

  If only George were here. He would know what to do. But she had no idea how to find him. He and Blanks were known to associate with women of questionable morals, and Felicity did not know where such women could be found.

  But there was someone who could help! Thomas Moreland. She ran down the stairs and called Stanton.

  Buttoning his coat, the butler came upstairs from the basement. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I need you to rush to Winston Hall and tell Mr. Moreland it’s imperative that he come here to Charles Street immediately.”

  He started back downstairs. “I’ll just fetch my greatcoat and be off.”

  “Oh, Stanton, ask Mr. Moreland to come in his carriage.”

  During Stanton’s absence, Felicity nervously paced the floor of the drawing room. Where was George? It should be him—not Mr. Moreland—who went after Glee. Why hadn’t she believed Mr. Moreland when he had tried to warn her about Glee? Her pride had caused her to distrust him and, in turn, kept her from speaking to Glee, perhaps preventing her strong-willed sister from running off with a totally unsuitable man.

  What manner of man would abduct a seventeen-year-old girl? Felicity clearly wished to strangle him. After she strangled Glee.

  Felicity agonized over the time it took for Stanton and Thomas to return. How many more miles had Glee and the fiend gained on them during this time? If only a horse had been available to Stanton. He would have been able to make much better time. Her only hope lay in the fact that Mr. Moreland’s grays were said to be extremely fast. Dare she hope they could catch up with her sister?

  When Stanton and Mr. Moreland finally reached the house on Charles Street, Felicity quickly thanked and dismissed Stanton, then burst into sobs and threw herself into Thomas’s arms.

  “What’s happened?” he asked in a worried voice as his arms closed around her.

  “It’s Glee. She’s run off.”

  Thomas grabbed Felicity’s shoulders and pried her off his chest. “When?”

  “I don’t know. The headache—”

  He cut in. “There was no headache.” Then he cursed under his breath.

  Her eyes watery, Felicity solemnly nodded, then burst out crying again.

  He strode to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of sherry, then brought it to her. “Here, sit down and drink this. It will help calm your nerves.”

  He dropped to one knee before her chair and smoothed away her tears, speaking softly to her. “Felicity, I’ll do everything in my power to bring her back.” Then he moved to get up.

  She reached for him. “We’ll bring her back.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. The trip will be torturous. And what of your own reputation? You can’t go off with me.”

  She set down the sherry glass and sprang to her feet. “How can you expect me to care for my own reputation when my innocent sister is being seduced by . . .”

  He moved to Felicity and settled her against his chest, wrapping her firmly in his arms. “All right. Go get your coat. We’re off to Scotland.”

  She ran upstairs to get her coat and scribbled a quick note to George.

  Mr. Moreland and I have gone to Gretna Green, to prevent Glee from making a dreadful mistake.

  —F.

  She left the note in George’s room, then hurried back downstairs. The sherry did seem to calm her nerves somewhat. That and Mr. Moreland’s assurance he would bring Glee back.

  Thomas told his coachman to go toward the North Road. “There’s ten quid in it for you if you can make Coventry by daylight.” Then Thomas assisted Felicity into his waiting carriage and sat next to her, taking her trembling hand into his. “Don’t worry, Felicity,” he said softly, “we’ll find them before any harm is done.” Would that he could believe his own words. A pity it was now past midnight. Glee could have as much as five hours on them.

  Felicity looked up at him and squeezed his hand. “Have you any idea who the wretched man is?”

  He cursed himself for not having the girl followed. Because of Felicity’s anger at his interference, he had not “No, but I believe he is not a man of means.”

  The coachman turned the corner so sharply and quickly Felicity fell against him. She stayed where she landed and looked up at him. “What makes you think so?”

  “Had the man access to a carriage, he would not have been meeting openly with her in Sydney Gardens, thus exposing Glee to scandal.”

  “But she wouldn’t have gotten into a carriage—”

  A cold silence sliced into the dark carriage.

  “Oh, Mr. Moreland, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. Glee has a great deal more growing up to do than I realized.” Her chest quivered as if she were holding back sobs. “I ... I should not have let her go to the assemblies yet. It’s all my fault.”

  He spoke sternly. “It’s not your fault, Felicity. Going to the assemblies was the best thing you could have done for her. There, she was exposed to gentlemen. The man who has abducted her is undoubtedly no gentleman.”

  “I know you only saw him from a distance, but can you at all remember what he looked like?”

  Thomas pictured Glee sitting on the park bench looking up at the man. “He was older—perhaps older than I.”

  “And you are?”

  “Twenty-nine. The man appeared tall, and his hair was dark. That’s all I can think of.”

  “Sweet heavens, I have been so very stupid. The signs were there but I ignored them.”

  “What signs?”

  “She said the men at the assemblies were mere boys and all so terribly British.”

  “Which means she was already enamored of an older man with dark hair who most likely was not British.”

  “Exactly!” she said with enthusiasm. “I know who he is!”

  Thomas bent toward her. “Who?”

  “Her dancing master. Mr. Salvado.”

  “If you’re right, the man must have let a carriage here in Bath!” He shouted to the coachman to stop.

  As soon as the coach slowed down, Thomas leaped from the carriage and spoke to his driver. “Take us to the livery stable in the worst section of Bath.” Then he got back in for the short ride to the livery stable, where he disembarked again, ordering Felicity to stay put.

  A lantern lighted the wooden exterior of the livery stable, but the interior was in darkness. Thomas’s calls roused a groom who was sleeping upstairs. The lad came downstairs and stumbled past Thomas to remove the lantern from the outside hook while tucking his shirt into his breeches.

  “I believe Mr. Salvado has bespoken a coach here tonight,” Thomas said, tossing him a coin.

  The lad looked at it and rubbed his eyes. “Shocked I was since the fore
igner don’t even own a ‘orse. But he ’ad money, all right.”

  “Was there a lady with him?”

  The lad shook his head. “I thought it strange he needed a coach fer just ‘imself.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “ ‘Twas just before I went to bed.” The groom scratched at his chin. “Musta been ’bout ten of the clock.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  The boy screwed up his lips. “All he said was he’d be gone for three or four days.”

  To Scotland. Thomas turned toward the door, then stopped. “What did the coach look like?”

  “ ‘Twas the smallest we have. Black, of course. Had to take a driver, too. We mean to get our rigs back, if ye know what I mean.”

  “I do indeed.”

  Thomas had learned one positive thing. The coach was likely costing Salvado his life’s savings. He would hardly be willing to pay extra to put up for the night after only an hour or two ride. No doubt the Italian expected to come into money from his bride’s family.

  Thomas conveyed all the information he had learned to Felicity. “I’ll be damned before I allow him to marry Glee,” he finished in a stern voice.

  “How can we catch up with them if they have a start of two and a half hours?”

  He took her hand within both of his. “My horses are very fine; his are not.”

  “I’m glad you thought to go to the livery stable. Now, we at least have some information.”

  He patted her hand. “Enough to know it will be many hours before we can catch up with him. I suggest you try to get some sleep.”

  “I’m far too upset to sleep.”

  “When we find Glee she will need you—bright and alert. I recommend you put your head on my shoulder. It’s more comfortable than the side of the carriage.”

  “I’ll try,” she said softly, burying her face in the black jacket he had worn to the night’s assembly.