by Ava Stone
Lissy reached out a tentative hand, touching Fin’s wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t you ever feel that way?” His dark eyes speared her. “Don’t you ever lament the loss of Captain Pierce? Don’t you wonder what your own life would be like if he’d lived?”
Only on the occasions when she suffered from nightmares. Lissy swallowed down the bile that rose up in her throat at the thought of her own husband. “I didn’t know him as long as you knew Georgie,” she hedged her answer.
Even still, her words were the truth. Had she known Aaron better than she had, Lissy would have never married the oh-too-dashing captain. Had she known the things Aaron was capable of, Lissy would have bolted as far away from the man as possible upon meeting him. In her darker moments, she wished she’d never met Aaron. If he’d never entered her life, she could actually enjoy a future now. But he had entered her life, and there wasn’t a blasted thing Lissy could do about that. The past, as well as her future, was firmly etched in stone.
Though an actual future was not a possibility for Lissy, that didn’t have to be the case for Fin. His stodginess aside, he was a delightful man. Kind, most of the time. Caring, even. If Aaron had been more like Fin…
“But you must have loved him, “ Fin pressed. “Georgie showed me the letter you wrote.”
The letter she’d sent from Boston. The letter she’d written on the day of her marriage before she realized the sort of man Aaron truly was. She hadn’t had the heart to write again, she couldn’t find the words to tell either of her sisters what a colossal mistake she had made. There was nothing either of them could do to rescue her from her impetuous foolishness, after all.
“I’d rather not talk about it, Fin,” she said quietly. And she could go the rest of her life without talking about it, without ever thinking about it…
“You never want to talk about it,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I’ve never seen you mourn, I’ve never seen—”
“No!” she blurted out, halting him mid-sentence. Lissy pushed past the panic that seized her heart and the shortness of her breath. She hated discussing Aaron. She hated it with every fiber of her being, and had ever since she’d returned to England. Lissy shook her head, hoping against hope that he’d stop his inquisition. “I won’t live the rest of my life mourning his loss, Fin. I just won’t. I’d rather look forward than back. And you should do the same.” There! Perhaps now he’d leave the topic alone for a while.
Fin heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand across his brow. Maddening chit. He looked forward. He looked forward everyday he was in the Lords. He looked forward everyday he tried to make England better for her people. He looked forward everyday he tried to be a good example for Edmund. Just because he didn’t cavort with merry widows or spend his time chasing after this year’s incomparable, whoever the devil she might be, didn’t mean he was living in the past. He missed Georgie. He loved Georgie. He would until the day he died. But he was living in the present.
“If you’re done scolding me,” Lissy began, breaking into Fin’s thoughts, “then I’d like to return to the ballroom now.”
Fin scowled. Damnation, she could drive a saint mad. “I’m not scolding you. I’m trying to guide you.”
Her pert little nose lifted high in the air. “The last I checked, Fin, you were Edmund’s guardian, not mine. I don’t need your guidance.”
On the contrary, she was most definitely in need of a strong hand, something her father should have provided before his death, not that he could voice as much to her. “Then as Edmund’s guardian, might I ask you to please be wary of the companions you choose? Your actions will, of course, reflect on your brother and his name.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Lissy shook her head, and her flaxen curls bobbed against her shoulders. “Edmund is barely at Eton. I don’t think his reputation is in any danger. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She started for the door and turned the handle.
A moment later, she was gone and Fin was alone, like he had been for so long. He looked up at the ceiling above him as though guidance might come from on high. That was ridiculous, of course. But Felicity always vexed him, she always left him speechless and doubting his very sanity.
He did envy her ability to leave Captain Pierce and their dreams of a future that could never be behind her, however. He envied her ability to live every day with abandon. Fin could never do that. His obligations to his nephew, to his title, to his country weighed heavily on his shoulders. He couldn’t even imagine living the carefree life Lissy led. But she wasn’t thinking.
All of that aside, Fin did wish Lissy would take her role in society more seriously. Her actions would reflect on Edmund, no matter how much she protested otherwise. He needed to keep a closer eye on her, that much was evident.
Lissy stepped back into the Astwick ballroom, and her heart leapt to her throat. Good heavens! At the far side of the room, she spotted Mr. John Heaton from Boston, tall and handsome as always, talking with the aged Earl and Countess of Littleworth. What in the world was Mr. Heaton doing here? Lissy’s breath shortened as she backed out of the ballroom, hoping against hope the American hadn’t spotted her as well. If he had, how would she ever explain her presence, her living and breathing presence?
“There you are!” Phoebe Avery said from the ballroom entrance.
Several heads turned in Lissy’s direction. Without a second thought, she lifted her skirts and bolted down the corridor.
“Lissy!” Phoebe called after her, and Lissy’s heart nearly stopped. Of all the infernal times for someone to yell her name.
Lissy raced back towards the parlor she’d shared with Fin. She rushed over the threshold and was more than relieved to find the room empty. She shut the door behind her and sank against it. She had no hope of barring anyone from entering if they truly wanted to, but it made her feel a bit safer.
Lissy stared at her reflection in the mirror. Heavens, she looked a decade older than her nineteen years. Of course, she’d tossed and turned all night long, plagued with nightmares and memories of her brief marriage.
The circles under her eyes spoke of the terrors she tried to keep hidden during the light of day, of the secrets she hoped no one would ever discover. She hadn’t thought about Aaron in any real way for so long, it was almost as though he was, himself, a bad nightmare, a figment of the blackest parts of her imagination. She was certain her terrible night was all on an account of having spotted John Heaton at the Astwicks’. That, and Fin’s incessant questions about her dead husband. If it was Mr. Heaton that she’d seen the previous night. She couldn’t be entirely sure. Regardless, seeing the man, whoever he was, brought her mind shooting back to those terrible days in Boston and the truth that she had tried so hard to forget. Not that she could ever truly forget them, but the further she got from Massachusetts, the longer she’d been back in England, the easier it was to tell herself that those awful months had never really happened.
They had happened, however. No matter how much she wished they hadn’t. Some scars could never heal, even if she pretended they didn’t exist.
When a hand landed on Felicity’s elbow, she yelped and nearly shot out of her skin. Her head spun to the side where she caught the frightened expression on her maid’s face.
Annie touched a hand to her own heart. “Are you all right, my lady?”
Feeling like the biggest ninny in all of England for being frightened by the mere slip of her own lady’s maid, Lissy took a steadying breath and patted Annie’s hand. “I was just woolgathering. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Annie insisted. “I am terribly sorry, my lady.”
But it wasn’t Annie’s fault, so Lissy smiled her warmest smile and shook her head. “Nothing to apologize for. But I am hoping you can do something about these circles, Annie.” She touched a hand to her cheek. “I look a fright, and I was supposed to go walking with Lady Arabella this morning.”
>
“A bit of cucumbers ought to do the trick, my lady,” Annie said as she started for the door. “I’ll be back in a trice.”
But there was no need to rush. Lissy didn’t have to meet Bella for a few more hours, and though the idea of going out in public after spotting the man who looked so very much like John Heaton the previous evening twisted Lissy’s stomach, she tried to push all thoughts of her former neighbor, of Boston and most especially of Aaron Pierce far from her mind. Mr. Heaton wouldn’t be walking Rotten Row even if it was him she’d seen at the Astwicks’ the night before. Besides, she wouldn’t cower in the corner of her chambers the rest of her life all because of an if she wasn’t entirely certain of.
Lissy leaned closer towards the mirror, her reflection looking back at her, a weary expression in her eyes. She did look a mess. Hopefully Annie would be able to work some sort of miracle this morning.
After but a moment, her maid scampered back into Lissy’s chambers, a small bowl of cut cucumbers in her hand. “Do sit down, my lady,” Annie said, gesturing to a chintz chair just a few feet away.
Dutifully, Lissy sat. She leaned back and closed her eyes. “I’d like my blue walking gown today too, Annie.”
“Of course, ma’am. I pressed it yesterday.” The first cool cucumber landed over Lissy’s right eye. “Oh! Crawford says Lord Carraway sent a missive for you first thing this morning.”
Lissy opened her left eye to look at her maid. “Tell him he can return it, unopened.” Then she closed her eye once more.
“Unopened?” Annie asked as she placed a cucumber over Lissy’s left eye.
“Mmm,” Lissy returned. After the way Fin had behaved the night before, he could go hang. She wasn’t about to dance to tear open his letter only to discover a fresh set of criticisms this morning.
Then again, it might be an apology…
Lissy nearly snorted at the thought. In all the years she’d known Phineas Granard, she couldn’t recall him apologizing to anyone at anytime. Must be difficult being so blasted perfect all the time. Saint Fin.
“I don’t think Crawford…” Annie began.
But Lissy cut her off, “Lord Carraway does not pay Crawford’s wages.” Juliet did, but that was beside the point. “And I don’t particularly care what that starched viscount has to say this morning. So, please tell Crawford to return whatever pearls of wisdom Lord Carraway has thought to bestow upon me to the viscount. Unopened.”
Besides, even if it was an apology, Fin should do so in person.
“Yes, of course, my lady.”
Just as Fin stepped from his home on Charles Street, he spotted a footman in Prestwick livery hastening toward him. Monroe, if Fin wasn’t mistaken.
“Good morning,” Fin said with a nod.
Monroe’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Sorry, my lord. I just meant to return this.” He stretched his arm toward Fin, a letter clutched in his hand. The letter Fin had penned early that morning, by the looks of it.
Fin frowned. “My man delivered that this morning for Lady Felicity.”
“Aye, sir.” Monroe nodded, his eyes still on his boots. “She said to return it to you.”
“Return it to me?” Fin grumbled, snatching the letter back from the servant. The damn thing hadn’t even been opened. “She knew I sent it?” What a foolish thing to ask. Cleary, she knew he’d written it as she’d sent Monroe to return the blasted note.
The footman finally raised his gaze to meet Fin’s eyes. “Aye, sir,” he said, sounding most apologetic.
Fin crumpled the letter up in his hand and slid the envelope into his coat pocket. This sort of behavior was exactly why Lissy needed a keeper. Stubborn, petulant chit. Very well, Fin would just have to deliver his message in person and make certain she heard every last word. He nodded at the footman. “In that case, do tell her ladyship to expect me at Prestwick House this afternoon.” Right after he met with Liverpool, he’d deal with Lissy.
Though Lissy was determined not to let Mr. Heaton, or who ever he was, interrupt her plans for the day, she couldn’t help but scan Rotten Row for the American anyway. Just in case it truly had been him she’d spotted the night before. If it had been him, it would be best to see him before he saw her, after all. But as she’d expected, Mr. Heaton was nowhere in sight. He probably was a figment of her imagination. A play of the chandelier lights. Something.
Her friend, Lady Arabella Winslett, however, did seem as though she was bothered by something. The dark haired beauty continually bit her lip as she, herself, scanned Rotten Row as though looking for the devil himself. They couldn’t possibly be looking for the same man, could they? What a foolish thought.
Lissy shook off her anxiety about Mr. Heaton and smiled at her friend, bumping Bella’s shoulder with her own. “You seem a bit on edge. Is everything all right?”
Bella glanced over her shoulder as though to make certain neither of their maids, walking a few feet behind, could overhear their conversation. Then she threaded her arm through Lissy’s and drew her closer as they walked.
“I need a husband!” Bella hissed urgently in her ear.
A husband! Lissy managed not to snort, but just barely. The last thing any intelligent girl needed was a husband. Until now, she’d always considered Bella an intelligent girl. “Why would you possibly want one of those horrid creatures?”
“Did you hear Lucinda Potts ran off to Gretna Green with Lord Brookfield?”
Who hadn’t heard it? Considering Brookfield’s blackened reputation, Lissy wasn’t certain if the new Lady Brookfield would have been better off ruined than married to a man like him. Not that the girl in question had sought out Lissy’s advice on the matter. “I certainly hope you’re not considering something equally rash.” For heaven’s sake, who was Bella enamored with? Who did she want to elope with? For the life of her, Lissy couldn’t come up with a name or a face. No one her friend had mentioned recently, in any event.
“I don’t know that an anvil wedding is necessary,” Bella added quietly. “A perfectly respectable wedding at St. George’s will suffice. But I need a husband, or in the very least, a fiancé. And I need him quickly.”
A memory of her own naïve exuberance at marrying a dashing American captain flashed in Lissy’s mind, and her stomach turned. Naïve exuberance, indeed. She’d been a blasted fool. Lissy noticed a bench just a few feet away and stopped walking along the path. Then she glanced back over her shoulder at Annie and Bella’s maid. “We’re just going to sit a while.”
She didn’t wait for either servant to reply before pulling her friend toward the bench.
“Sitting isn’t going to change my mind,” Bella whispered only loud enough for Lissy to hear.
She shushed her friend and continued toward her destination. “Rushing into a marriage is the worst possible thing you could do, Bella. You can take that from me.” She dropped onto the bench and tugged the brunette down beside her. “It’s one thing to turn your life over to a man you love and trust, and quite another to do so with a man you barely know.”
“I don’t have a choice with the timing.” Bella turned her gaze on Lissy, piercing her with her silvery grey eyes. “Besides, it’ll be better with someone I choose rather than the awful man Grandpapa has in mind for me.”
The Duke of Chatham was behind this insanity? Playing matchmaker hardly seemed like something the domineering duke would waste his valuable time doing. “Your grandfather?”
Bella nodded, her dark curls bobbing up and down, her brow etched with fear. “My cousin. Johann von Guttstadt, Count of Hellsburg.” Then she shivered. “What a perfectly apt name that is, by the way. He is most definitely a horrid creature, as you say. And not one I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I have to find a husband quickly, before Hellsburg arrives in Town.”
Rarely had Bella looked so serious and the fear she saw reflected in her friend’s eyes was enough to alight Lissy’s protective streak. “What about your father?” Certainly Lord Aylesford wouldn’t marry
his daughter off to someone she despised, though Lissy’s father had done that very thing years ago, with Georgie, hadn’t he? She quickly pushed that thought away. Lord Aylesford wasn’t like Lissy’s father in the least; for one thing he was mild-mannered.
Bella shook her head. “Papa has never once defied Grandpapa. Not one time.” She heaved a sigh, and her cheeks pinkened with panic. “So you see, I need someone to offer for me before Grandpapa declares an edict and it’s too late.”
What an awful predicament. Even if Bella got to choose her own husband, there was no guarantee what the man would be like after their vows were spoken. And a hasty marriage was the worst possible thing. Lissy heaved a sigh of her own. And then an idea hit her. She couldn’t help but smile. “You just need someone to offer for you?”
Her friend nodded. “You look like you have an idea.”
“Perhaps.” Lissy shrugged. “Your cousin, this Hellsburg fellow, he isn’t intent on staying in London, is he?”
Bella shook her head. “I believe he’ll be returning to Prussia after he visits Grandpapa.” Then she squeaked. “And I don’t want to be with him when he leaves, Lissy.”
“Or course not.” Lissy’s smile widened as her plan became a bit more solid in her mind. “So you don’t really need a husband, just a fiancé. One you can break it off with after your cousin returns to the Continent.”
The expression Bella cast her spoke more loudly than words what a ridiculous idea she found Lissy’s suggestion. “Is that all? I just need a fellow who will willingly let me cry off?”
Which made all the sense in the world. There was no reason for Bella to look at her as though she was mad.
“I suppose any gentleman would gladly let me make a fool of him. Is that your idea?”
A fellow who didn’t want to get married might be persuaded to help. “I’d offer up Edmund on a platter, but he’s only twelve. You don’t think your grandfather would agree to that, do you? I mean, he is already a duke. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?”
