by Ava Stone
Marc quirked a grin at his old friend. “Where would you like for me to begin?”
“How about Felicity Pierce?” Alex’s brow lifted expectantly. “Why don’t you begin there?”
“What does it matter to you?” Marc took another sip of his whisky.
“She’s a friend of Olivia’s, one of her better ones, and at some point I’d like for my wife to actually tolerate you.”
At that, Marc tossed back his head and laughed. He couldn’t help it. The oh-so-prissy Duchess of Kelfield would never tolerate him. She’d made that more than clear over the years. “As though that was ever an actual possibility.”
To his credit, Alex’s lips upturned to a roguish smile. “Anything is possible, my friend.”
“Just not probable, especially where a certain proper lady is concerned.”
“Well, Felicity Pierce is a proper lady. And I know your aversion to the type. So what are you doing with the chit?” Alex pressed.
Marc shrugged. “Annoying Carraway.”
At that, Alex shook his head. Then he rubbed his brow as though to stave off a headache. “And why are you poking Carraway, of all people?”
“Because the man is a sanctimonious prig. Is that reason enough?”
Alex shook his head once more. “No.”
Of course Alex would want more than that. He’d become quite domesticated since his marriage. So Marc heaved a sigh and began to tell his friend the truth. “The jackass tracked me down…here.” He gestured to the room at large, a place that should have been his sanctuary. “Of all the bloody places. A man ought to be able to enter his club to play cards without being set upon by bloody politicians.”
“Better here than Madam Palmer’s.”
“If he’d tracked me down there, I’d have killed him where he stood.” Marc scowled at his friend. “And then he had the gall to throw Callista at me.”
“Callista?” Alex’s eyes widened. “What did he say about your daughter?”
“Tried to use her existence to manipulate me. If some fool had done the same to you in regards to Poppy, you’d have made him pay a penance.” Daughters were strictly off limits. Any dolt should know that, certainly one as politically savvy as Carraway.
“So that’s what Rotherby’s was about? Putting Carraway in his place?”
“I’m certainly not courting Lady Felicity, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Olivia will be relieved to hear it.”
“Well, I’m so happy to set your wife’s fears at rest.”
Alex chuckled, looking almost like the rogue Marc had once wiled away many a night with. “I don’t know that you’ll ever do that, completely.”
No, probably not. The prickly duchess was the cousin of a certain viscountess, after all. “How is Caroline?” he dared ask, but only because it was Alex and no one else was within earshot.
“Still happily married,” his friend returned.
Though how she could be made no sense at all. “Staveley,” Marc grumbled the man’s name. “That humorless bore, he—”
“Is an old friend of mine,” Alex finished. “I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. So don’t make me choose between my loyalties.”
How Alex could stand to be bored by the man was a complete mystery. And then there was Caroline. It wasn’t even possible Staveley took care of her as he ought. The man couldn’t have a clue what to do with a lady like her. So vibrant, so delectable, so…
“Ah, Kelfield!” Simon Masters, the Earl of Thurlstone, interrupted Marc’s thoughts as he ambled over to the pair. “Surprised to find you in Town this season.”
Truly, it had been a while since Alex had braved London after the scandal his hasty marriage had caused. Though it wasn’t terribly sporting of Thurlstone to say as much.
“Surprised they admitted you membership here.” Marc lifted his whisky glass toward the disreputable earl in a mock toast.
Thurlstone lifted his own glass toward Marc. “Why not? They let you walk through the doors.”
The earl did have him there. “Touché.”
“Over here, Heaton!” Thurlstone called across the room, gesturing to some fellow Marc hadn’t ever seen before. “American,” the earl confided before his friend joined them. “Can’t win at Hazard to save his life.” Then he lifted his glass toward the American in greeting. “Do join us. John Heaton of Boston, this is Kelfield and Haversham.” Then he chuckled to himself. “Actually, you’re in very bad company, Heaton. Between the three of us, any scandal in London the last decade has had one or more of our names attached.”
The American laughed as well. “Or very good company depending on who you’re asking.”
Kelfield smirked. “I like him already.”
“Might have been the source of a scandal or two myself back in Boston. In fact, one of my oldest compatriots is due in London within the week.”
“We’ll have to see what sort of trouble we can all get into together then,” Thurlstone teased. “Well, except for Kelfield. His wife has him on the straight and narrow these days.”
Kelfield settled back in his seat, a smug ducal expression upon his face. “I am quite happy with my path, gentlemen. And if you had a wife like mine, you’d be happy too.”
If Marc had a wife like Olivia Kelfield, he’d never go home. A haughty harridan he could do without.
Lissy flipped the pages of La Belle Assemblée, but she wasn’t truly looking at the fashion plates, her mind was still awhirl about what to do with Fin. It was still difficult to believe that he’d actually hit the Marquess of Haversham, without so much as a warning.
Be reasonable, Phoebe’s words echoed in her mind. But Lissy didn’t know how to be reasonable with him. He was overbearing and controlling and most stubborn. Blast him! She shouldn’t even have to try to figure out a plan to deal with him. He should simply just leave her in peace. He should simply trust her to make reasonable decisions of her own. He should…
“My lady.” Crawford, her grey-haired and loyal butler, cleared his throat from the doorway, breaking Lissy from her musings.
She looked up from her periodical and nodded at the servant. “Yes, Crawford?”
The man stepped further into the pink parlor, a silver salver in his hand. “From Mr. Beckford, my lady.” He presented the tray to her.
Luke? Lissy couldn’t remember ever having received a letter from her brother-in-law. He was hardly the sort who penned letters. She snatched the note from the salver and broke the seal. Quickly, she scanned the contents.
Dearest Felicity,
I hate to interrupt your season, but I must beg you to return home at once. Juliet’s delicate condition prevents her from writing to you herself. She is in desperate need of your company. I am afraid this confinement has been more difficult than the last.
Please come home at your earliest convenience.
Lucas Beckford
Oh, good heavens! Lissy’s heart twisted with pain. Was there a complication with Juliet’s pregnancy? The memory of her own lost child, all the pain, agony and despair she’d suffered washed over her anew. She leapt from her seat. “Crawford, please have Annie pack my things.”
“Is something amiss, Lady Felicity?” The old man’s brow furrowed, and concern shone in his dark eyes.
She shrugged and started for the room, but she had nowhere to go, so she turned back around. “I hope not. Luke thinks Juliet would benefit from my company. Please have Donaldson ready the coach. I’d like to depart as soon as we are able.”
“Depart for where?” came Fin’s baritone voice from the threshold.
For a brief second, Lissy’s heart stilled. Fin would make certain everything was all right. He always did. But then the memory of his unacceptable behavior from the previous night leapt to the forefront of her mind. “Who allowed you entrance?” she asked tartly.
“Monroe.” Fin quirked her a smile. “As Crawford was busy attending you. Now what did you say? Where are you departing for?”
&n
bsp; “I’m headed home to The Chase,” she replied coolly. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“Oh.” A look of relief flashed in his eyes, which only served to spark Lissy’s ire once more. He needn’t look so pleased about her imminent departure. Starched stickler, indeed.
“So you’ll have to find some other lady to reprimand in my absence. Perhaps you could take up a daily regimen at Gentleman Jackson’s so you can punch fellows whenever the whim should strike.”
Fin turned his attention to Crawford. “Leave us, please.”
“Of course, sir.” The butler turned on his heel and strode back into the corridor.
Before Lissy could soundly reprimand him for dismissing her servant, Fin crossed the room and clutched her hands in his. “Sit, Lissy. You look like you might faint.”
Did she? All she could do was stare up at him, unsure how to respond to that.
“Good God.” He frowned, distorting his handsome features. “You’re trembling.” Fin dropped onto the nearby settee and tugged Lissy down beside him. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re headed for The Chase. Is Juliet all right?”
“I-I don’t know,” she said, barely recognizing the scratchy sound of her own voice.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Fin’s dark eyes softened as he brushed a tear from Lissy’s cheek.
Heavens, she was a ninny. She hadn’t even known she was crying. “Sh-she has to be all right.” And she did have to be all right. Edmund and Juliet were all Lissy had left in the world. The only people who truly mattered to her.
Fin drew her into his arms and held her, comforting her more than his words could have ever done. “Shh, Lissy. I’m right here.”
He had always been right there. He’d always been a pillar of strength. He’d always made certain she was all right, that Edmund was all right. Her tears fell faster now, his jacket must be soaked through. “L-Luke said…”
“What did Luke say?” he asked, pulling back slightly from her. Fin’s warm brown eyes soothed her, calming her from within, and she took a steadying breath.
Lissy pushed her brother-in-law’s letter into Fin’s hand. The viscount read the missive quickly then turned his attention back to Lissy.
“All he said was that this confinement has been more difficult than the last.”
“I know,” Lissy admitted, feeling a bit sheepish under his scrutiny. “But his tone was urgent, Fin. Jules must not be doing well at all, not if she couldn’t even write her own letter.” At that thought, panic seized her heart once more. “She can’t even write her own letter! And if something happens to her…”
“Juliet is the strongest woman I know,” Fin said softly. “She’ll come through whatever this is.”
“But the baby,” Lissy began, then she bit her tongue to keep from telling him something she shouldn’t tell anyone. She shook her head to keep from thinking of her own lost child and said instead, “Cordie miscarried a few months ago, you know. I don’t want to think the same could happen to Juliet.”
Fin tucked one of Lissy’s curls behind her ear and said, “She’s had one child successfully, I’m certain she’ll be fine.”
“Cordie has had a child as well, Fin. I don’t think that necessarily guarantees success.”
He took a long slow breath and squeezed her hand. “I hate to see you so upset, sweetheart. Why don’t I escort you to Derbyshire?”
Somehow Lissy found herself nodding. She could use his strength, his even presence. But she didn’t truly want to travel to Derbyshire with Fin, did she? Wasn’t she still furious with him? He’d probably end up behaving like his usual controlling self, and she didn’t want to suffer his condescension all the way to Prestwick Chase. “Well, I—”
“Very well.” He kissed her brow. “We’ll take my coach, if you don’t mind. It’s a bit faster, I think.”
Faster was definitely a plus. Very well, she’d travel with Fin. Besides, his strength could be a blessing. Lissy nodded once more. “Speed would be best, all things considered.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll leave today.”
Fin stepped over the threshold of his Charles Street home. He smiled at Ames, his butler, and requested the man have his carriage readied for travel, then he made his way to his study. Before they left for Derbyshire, he’d need to send the Prime Minister a note explaining his absence, and he’d need to send his regards to Caroline Staveley since he’d miss her soiree the following evening. But first, he’d need to get Lissy’s panic-stricken expression out of his mind. But how to do that? The fear she wore this morning was worse than the fury she’d sported the night before, her beautiful face distorted with concern.
All night long, Lieutenant Avery’s words had echoed in Fin’s ears. Had Lissy truly been unhappily married? Was she truly distrustful of men? Well, aside from Beckford and himself? Had Captain Pierce harmed her somehow during the duration of their short marriage?
From the sideboard, Fin poured himself a generous glass of whisky.
Drink in hand, Fin dropped into the overstuffed leather chair behind his desk and took his first sip. The image of Georgie’s tortured expression whenever the subject of Teynham arose flashed once more in his mind. Had Lissy endured a similar marriage? The mere thought of such a thing had him balling his hand into a fist.
For as long as he’d known Lissy, she was the sort who was forever giggling or dancing or enjoying some sort of merriment. Lighthearted. Carefree. Had the late Captain Pierce robbed her of that? And had Fin been blind to it all?
Seeing her so distressed this morning had torn at his heart. Just the suggestion that there could be complications with Juliet’s pregnancy had been too much for Lissy. He’d never seen her look quite so distraught. He’d had the overwhelming urge to kiss her fears away and vow that all would be right with the world no matter what. And he had a feeling that were he to do so, were he to kiss Lissy, that he’d never want to stop, not for the remainder of his life.
Damn it all. He’d only ever felt that way about one woman in all of his life. And now he felt it again, though slightly different. Had he somehow fallen in love with Lissy? As the thought entered his mind, a bit of peace settled across him as though he’d arrived at the correct conclusion. That peace was swiftly followed by a wave of panic. God in heaven. He’d fallen in love with Felicity Pierce.
What the devil was he supposed to do about that? She was Georgie’s sister, for God’s sake.
A scratch sounded at his door, breaking him of his reverie. Fin glanced toward the sound, happy to focus on the interruption rather than on his plaguing thoughts. “Come,” he called.
Ames pushed open the door. “Your coach is ready, sir.”
Fin blinked at his butler. “Ready?” He’d barely had a chance to sit down, to try to put his thoughts in order. “So quickly?”
“Quickly?” Ames frowned a bit.
Fin realized in that moment that his study was bathed in a warmer light than it had been what seemed only moments ago, as though the sun had moved lower in the sky. “What time is it, Ames?”
“Just past three o’clock, milord.”
Three o’clock? He’d left Prestwick House just before noon. What the devil was wrong with him? Fin looked down at the glass he still had clutched in his hand and realized he’d somehow downed the contents. Blast and damn! He still had those missives to write and he’d promised Lissy they’d leave today. “Thank you, Ames. I’ll be ready to go shortly.”
After he quickly penned a note to Lord Liverpool and was in the middle of his note to Lady Staveley, someone cleared his throat from the threshold. Fin glanced to the open doorway to find Sebastian lounged against the doorjamb, a self-satisfied expression on his cousin’s face.
“Punched the man in the middle of Rotherby’s drawing room, did you?”
Fin returned his attention to the note before him. “I’m headed out, Sebastian.”
“Yes, Ames told me. Prestwick Chase, hmm?”
“What do you want?” Fin asked as he signe
d his name to Lady Staveley’s note.
“Just to see how you’re doing, cousin.” Sebastian pushed away from the doorway and stepped further into the study. “Everyone is talking about you this morning. Well, you and Haversham.”
“Let them talk.” Fin looked up from his desk, spearing his cousin with a glare.
Sebastian chuckled as he dropped into a chair across from Fin’s desk. “Shall I wager a guess? Was the marquess, by chance, chasing after Lady Felicity’s skirts? And after you so nicely asked him not to?”
In truth, that was why he’d leveled Haversham, wasn’t it? Not because the man had broken his tarnished word, but because he’d had his arms around Lissy. Fin’s heart squeezed a bit. He’d thought he was being noble, but he’d been overcome with jealously, hadn’t he? What a lowering thought.
Though, it didn’t matter at this point. Fin and Lissy were headed to Derbyshire and by the time they returned, Haversham would have moved on to some other unsuspecting lady. At least Fin hoped that was the case. “It was on behalf of all of London’s cuckolded gentlemen,” he lied.
“So not because of Lady Felicity, then?” His cousin’s brow lifted with mirth.
“Go to the devil, Sebastian.” Damn it all. Was he so easy to see through?
“In good time, I’m sure.” The jackanapes grinned. “And now you’re headed to her family’s estate? Probably easier to bed her there than with all of London’s gossips watching you. Good thinking, cousin.”
Fin clenched his teeth and ground out, “I am not bedding her.” No matter how much he might want to. No matter how the suggestion would plague his every waking thought. Damn his cousin and his unsolicited suggestions.
Sebastian held up his hand as though in mock protest. “There’s no reason to growl at me.”
But while they were on the topic of the lady, perhaps Sebastian’s insight could be helpful. Irritating as his cousin might be, at least the man was trustworthy. “Do you…” Fin heaved a sigh. Sebastian was trustworthy, but did he really want to give his cousin more ammunition in regards to the lady?
