by Jen Turano
Who would have ever thought such an enticing figure was lurking under the vast amount of fabric Felicia normally wore?
Realizing he was gawking, and with a mother bent on matchmaking standing only feet away from him, he pulled his gaze from Felicia’s surprising attributes and decided a safe part of her to concentrate on would be her hair. Unfortunately, random pins sticking haphazardly out of her tresses captured his attention, causing his mouth to curve up in a grin, something he quickly strove to control when Felicia’s eyes began to shoot sparks in his direction.
Ruth took that moment to clear her throat, loudly. “Felicia, what could you be thinking wearing that particular gown, and where are your manners? You’ve neglected to greet Mr. Sumner.”
“Mr. Sumner,” Felicia all but purred in a husky voice, the huskiness causing his mouth to feel as if it were suddenly full of sand.
“Miss Murdock,” he managed to say, wincing when he realized his voice sounded unnaturally high. He swallowed, drew in a deep breath, and tried again, pitching his tone a few octaves lower. “Don’t you look . . . delightful.”
Felicia frowned, narrowed her eyes, and folded her arms over her chest.
Oddly enough, it seemed as if she took offense at the term delightful. He tried again. “Charming?”
Her eyes narrowed to mere slits.
“Different?”
Felicia’s frown disappeared as her lips curved into an enchanting smile, causing all rational thought to flee from his mind.
She was stunning when she smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Sumner.”
“Really, Felicia, I’m not certain he was extending you a compliment,” Ruth muttered before she waved a hand at Felicia’s dress. “Would you care to explain why you’ve garbed yourself all in black? It’s not as if anyone has died recently.”
Felicia lifted her chin. “I had nothing else to wear. And there has been a death recently, very recently—the death of the old me. I’ve decided to assume a new identity, at least for today. Today . . . I’m going to be Clara.”
Grayson exchanged a glance with Ruth, who was looking decidedly worried, before he returned his attention to Felicia. Curiosity stole over him. “Why Clara?”
Felicia swept a strand of hair out of her face, the action causing some of the hairpins to tumble to the floor, which she ignored. “If you must know, Clara was a character I ran across in a moldy old book years ago. Given that she possessed a remarkable zest for life, I’ve long admired her.” She smiled. “She was a complete nuisance and came to an exceedingly bad end, but she was an incredibly compelling character—so compelling, in fact, that I’ve decided to emulate her.”
“You long to come to a bad end?” was all Grayson could think to ask.
“If it’s an interesting end, certainly.”
What could he possibly say to that bit of nonsense?
He opened his mouth but was spared a response when Ruth suddenly made a tsking noise under her breath, grabbed him rather roughly by the arm, and began tugging him toward the door.
“Thank you so much for coming by today, Mr. Sumner, but I fear my dear daughter’s rash must be far worse than I first imagined and is causing her to be out of sorts. You’d best get on your way quickly before you contract whatever vile disorder Felicia’s evidently picked up.”
“Forgive me, Mrs. Murdock, but I don’t believe a rash is causing her behavior—more like insanity, and I don’t think insanity is contagious.”
Ruth tightened her grip on his arm. “We mustn’t take any chances.”
They made it to the hall and were moving at a brisk pace down it before the sound of footsteps echoed behind him. Even though Ruth kept trying to prod him along, he slowed to a stop, turned, and found Felicia limping after them. He looked to her feet and couldn’t help but grin. She was wearing two completely different shoes, one with a high heel and one with a low heel, which went far in explaining her lopsided gait.
“You should have kept moving,” Ruth mumbled, right before Felicia teetered to a stop in front of them and plopped her hands on her hips. Ruth released a dramatic sigh. “Are you aware, dear, that you’re wearing two different shoes?”
Felicia lifted her black skirt, looked down for a moment, dropped the skirt back into place, and shrugged. “So I am. How odd.”
“Yes, it is odd, much like your demeanor, which is why you’re going to bid Mr. Sumner a good day and return to your room. I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon taking a good, long nap.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Be that as it may,” Ruth returned between now clenched teeth, “it’s past time Grayson took his leave.”
“I’m going with him.”
Ruth shook her head. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
“I can’t ignore Eliza’s invitation, and it would be beyond rude to Mr. Sumner if he came all this way to fetch me but then was forced to leave me behind.” She turned to him. “I’ll be right back. I just need to change my shoes.” With that, she began to limp down the hall.
“If you’re determined to continue on with this madness,” Ruth called after her, “you might want to fetch a hat as well.”
Felicia looked over her shoulder. “Clara never wore a hat.”
Ruth closed her eyes for just a moment, opened them, and shook her head. “It is beyond me at times like this why people feel inclined to have children.”
“To bring you joy and comfort in your old age, of course,” Felicia said briskly before she turned her head and hurried off down the hallway.
“She’s in an unusual mood,” Grayson said to fill the silence Felicia’s departure had caused.
“I’m afraid I can’t argue with you about that.” Ruth sighed. “I should not have agreed to the plan of having you come after her, especially knowing the disappointment she suffered today. I think the only prudent thing to do now is to summon my carriage and accompany Felicia over to your sister’s house myself. Eliza did, in fact, issue me an invitation, but . . .” Ruth suddenly looked a little shifty. “It might be for the best if you didn’t mention that to Felicia.”
“Should I even bother to ask why you’ve allowed your daughter to believe you weren’t invited?”
Ruth began to fan her face with her hand. “Probably not, and it hardly matters now. What does matter is rescuing you from my somewhat deranged daughter.” Ruth stopped fanning her face. “Do forgive me, for you have no idea what I’m speaking about, but I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose the particulars.”
“Eliza told me about Reverend Fraser and Felicia’s affection for him.”
“I was under the impression Felicia had kept that affection a well-guarded secret.”
“I’m sure she did, but Eliza’s always been intuitive, and she’s great friends with Agatha, one of New York City’s rising journalists. It probably didn’t take much pondering for them to figure out Felicia’s secret. I must admit, learning about Felicia’s interest in Reverend Fraser explained quite a few things about her, especially why she’s never shown an interest in any of the gentlemen I’ve watched you parade before her.”
Ruth’s eyes turned cunning. “I think she’s shown a little interest in you.”
Once again he’d forgotten he was in the presence of a determined mother. “She hasn’t, as you very well know, and I must be up-front with you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m not looking for a wife.”
“You need a mother for your daughter.”
“I employ several nannies who are more than capable of seeing to her needs.”
“I’m certain they do an admirable job, but there’s nothing quite like a mother’s touch, is there?”
Grayson laughed. “You are tenacious, aren’t you?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was intended as such, but I don’t want to give you false hope. Your daughter obviously hopes to settle down with a respectable and faith-filled man, given her affection for Reverend Fraser. I readily admit I’m far from respectab
le and even further from faith-filled.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Do you think it will ever be possible, Mother, for you to not try and pawn me off on some poor, unsuspecting gentleman every time I leave a room?”
Grayson looked up and found Felicia marching toward them, her hair, surprisingly enough, stuffed underneath a revolting hat of lime green, pieces of it sticking out here and there, and one of her hands was clutched around a parasol of brightest orange. Determined to avoid the subject of wardrobe choices, he stepped forward and smiled. “Your mother wasn’t really trying to pawn you off on me.”
Felicia’s eyes turned stormy. “Oh fine, take her side.” She lifted her chin. “Perhaps I should simply drive myself over to Eliza’s.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option, because I promised Eliza and Agatha I’d do my very best to entertain you out of your doldrums while . . .”
Pain had a way of making a gentleman forget what he’d been saying.
“Did you just poke me with your parasol?”
“Why would Eliza and Agatha have you make any promises?”
“Ah, well . . .” He looked to Ruth for assistance, but she didn’t appear to be giving him the slightest bit of attention and was instead staring at the ceiling as if she’d never before noticed the cheerful cherubs frolicking above their heads.
“What else did you promise Eliza and Agatha?” Felicia demanded.
He summoned what he hoped was a pleasant smile. “I promised them I’d be charming.”
Felicia drew in a sharp breath and rounded on her mother. “I thought you only told everyone I had a rash.”
Ruth stopped looking at the ceiling and fixed her gaze on him. “Isn’t that exactly what I told you?”
“Is it permissible for me to admit I have been privy to that type of personal information?”
Felicia began to tap the parasol in a slightly menacing manner against the floor. “I don’t have a rash. Well, I have a small one, but I think it was brought on by the mere suggestion of . . . Oh, never mind.” She narrowed her eyes on Ruth. “Why would Eliza and Agatha send Grayson to charm me if they didn’t know, and if you didn’t tell them, how did they find out?”
Grayson resisted the urge to bolt when Felicia stopped tapping the parasol against the floor and shook it in his direction. When it appeared Ruth was at a loss for words, he cleared his throat. “I expect Eliza and Agatha, being the nosy ladies I’m sure you realize them to be, simply figured it out.”
Felicia’s eyes widened. “I thought I hid my feelings quite well.” Her shoulders slumped for a moment, but then she straightened her spine and nodded. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. What’s done is done, and I’m just going to have to face everyone’s pity head on.”
“I’m more than certain everyone is going to pity Grayson far more than you, my dear, especially if you let it be known you’ve decided to be Clara for the day,” Ruth muttered.
Felicia looked at her mother, lifted her chin even higher, stepped closer to him, and grabbed his arm. “We should probably be on our way. I would hate to be late for tea.” With that, she prodded him toward the front door, barely waiting for the butler to open it before she pulled him through it.
Their progress came to an abrupt halt when three gentlemen, all of them bearing a marked resemblance to Felicia, ambled up the steps and blocked their way. He heard what sounded like a sigh escape her lips.
“On my word, Felicia, you’re looking a bit frightful,” Jeffrey Murdock, the oldest of the clan, exclaimed. “Are you aware that you’re dressed in black?”
Felicia’s grip on Grayson’s arm tightened. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m aware of what I’m wearing, Jeffrey. And I’ll thank you to not call me Felicia.”
Confusion immediately clouded Jeffrey’s eyes. “What, pray tell, would you have me call you, then?”
“Clara.”
Jeffrey simply stared at her for a moment with his mouth somewhat slack before he turned to Grayson. “Am I allowed to call you Grayson, or have you assumed a new identity as well?”
“He’s Frank,” Felicia supplied before Grayson could get a word out of his mouth.
“Forgive me, Felicia, but I don’t recall agreeing to change my name to Frank, even for just today,” Grayson said.
“Did you or did you not promise your sister you were going to charm me?”
“Well, yes, but that agreement had nothing to do with assuming a new identity.”
Her eyes began to sparkle in a slightly mischievous way, causing him to completely lose his train of thought.
“Don’t you want to do everything in your power to charm me?”
He suddenly found he wanted to do much more than charm her, which caused him to immediately turn from her, and move toward her brother Robert, his action causing her hand to fall away from his arm.
“It’s nice to see you again, Robert.”
“And you as well, Grayson, but tell me, have you really agreed to charm my little sister?” Robert was regarding him somewhat warily.
“It was Eliza’s and Agatha’s idea.”
Felicia’s third brother, Daniel, stepped forward, a huge grin on his face. “Well, that certainly fits, considering the antics of those two.” He held out his hand and Grayson shook it. “They must have figured out Felicia’s affection for Reverend Fraser and wanted to do whatever they could to cheer her up.” Daniel shuddered as he glanced at his sister and then back to Grayson. “I can’t say I envy you at the moment. Charming Felicia might be a bit of a daunting task today.”
Grayson couldn’t say he’d argue that point, especially when all the mischief disappeared from Felicia’s eyes to be replaced with distinct irritation.
“You knew about Reverend Fraser?” she asked, moving close enough to Daniel to give him a sharp poke with her parasol.
Daniel looked at her for a moment, reached out, and much to Grayson’s relief, snatched the parasol from her hand before he smiled. “Don’t ever do that again, and yes, we’ve known about Reverend Fraser forever.” He looked over her shoulder, and his smile widened. “Oh look, here comes Mother, and is that roast I smell coming out the door? I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Robert exclaimed, and without another word, the two brothers turned, greeted Ruth with a somewhat hurried hello, and fled into the house.
“Cowards,” Felicia called after them.
“Felicia, really, it’s not well done of you to throw insults at your own brothers,” Ruth said as she marched up to join them. “Ah, Jeffrey, this is a fortunate surprise. You can accompany Felicia and Grayson over to Eliza’s house. They’re going there for tea.”
Grayson thought that was a wonderful suggestion. He nodded in full agreement but stopped mid-nod when Felicia shook her head.
“Jeffrey wasn’t invited, nor were you, if you’ll recall.”
Ruth waved the comment away. “Eliza adores Jeffrey, and he can assume the role of chaperone, or rather, guardian.”
“I’m twenty-four, Mother. I haven’t needed a chaperone for years.”
“Not for you—for Grayson. The poor man is going to need all the guarding he can get, considering your state of mind.”
Grayson grinned, extended his arm once again to Felicia, who’d begun to sputter, and sent Ruth a nod. “We’ll be fine, Mrs. Murdock, but I do appreciate your concern.” He looked down at Felicia. “Ready?”
“Of course I’m ready, Frank. Lead the way.”
With Ruth’s voice echoing in his ear, saying something that sounded remarkably like “Your sister has lost her mind and there’s nothing any of us can do to help her get it back,” Grayson helped Felicia down the short flight of steps and then heard the front door shut behind them.
“I like your mother,” he said, patting the gloved hand Felicia had placed over his arm. “She’s very managing.”
“You should try living with her.”
“I said I liked her, but I don’t think I’d
be up for living with her.”
Felicia laughed, sounding much more like the Felicia he knew, and then she took over the task of steering them toward his phaeton, reminding him of one of the few times he’d danced with her and she’d taken to leading him around the dance floor.
Felicia brought them to a stop right beside his horses and surprised him when she let out what sounded remarkably like a whistle. “Nice phaeton. Is it fast?”
Trepidation was immediate. “It has been known to move rather quickly.”
She moved up to it and trailed a gloved hand along the polished surface. “Will you allow me to drive it?”
“Hmm . . .”
She turned her head and smiled a smile that was just a bit too cunning. “Did you, or did you not, make certain promises today?”
“Well, yes, but those had nothing to do with allowing you to drive my phaeton.”
“Driving such a remarkable conveyance would go far in lifting my flagging spirits.”
Not only was she captivating at times, it appeared she was also rather diabolical.
“Do you know how to drive?” he heard himself ask before he could stop the words from escaping his mouth.
“My mother tells everyone how proficient I am with the reins.”
Five minutes later, as Grayson hung to the seat for dear life, he came to the realization that Mrs. Murdock was not above exaggeration when it came to her daughter’s abilities.
3
The next morning, Felicia was somewhat surprised to find herself in a delightful frame of mind. Even though she’d slept little—having spent far too many hours contemplating her future and the disturbing events of the wedding and what had occurred afterward with Grayson—she felt better than she had in weeks, perhaps even months.
Unfortunately, feeling in tip-top shape was causing her a slight bit of distress, given that she was currently being fitted for a new wardrobe. She was supposed to remain perfectly still while pins were being thrust her way, but her high spirits kept urging her to fidget.
She needed to think of something distracting, something that would allow her to relax and not get poked with any pins, something that might amuse her.
