Madcap Miss

by Claudy Conn

  “Really?” Felicia asked as Becky and she exchanged glances and took one another’s hands. “Do you think so? I had dared to hope, but now …”

  “Now, matters are a bit more complicated, but only for a little over a month,” Becky said.

  “Yes, but he doesn’t know … about me being his ward.”

  “Didn’t know,” Scott said reasonably. “Brilliant fellow, bound to put it all together soon.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Becky said.

  “What is to be done?” Felicia cried.

  “Come clean,” Scott answered at once. “Naught else we can do. Not so very bad, after all. I like Ashton, couldn’t have a better guardian, and what’s more, you like him … kissed him.”

  “Many times, I’d warrant.” Becky giggled.

  Scott’s brows went up, but he shrugged. “Well, then, there you are.”

  Felicia’s shoulders drooped. “No, you just don’t see. How could you?” Her voice trailed off. They didn’t know that she had spent a night in her guardian’s bed. Oh, that sounded so very dreadful.

  Becky glared at Scott. “It doesn’t matter, because, Felicia, how you feel about one another is a fact that has nothing to do with his guardianship over you.”

  “My life is ruined,” Felicia said and then sniffed.

  “She says that whenever she can’t get her own way,” Scott said pugnaciously.

  Felicia’s look was dagger-dangerous. He saw it but laughed at her, and she snapped, “Oh, that is so not true.”

  “It is too,” he countered.

  “Oh, stop, you two,” Becky said, laughing. “This is not the time. We must find a way to sort this out.”

  “There isn’t any possible way of doing that. He will hate me when he finds out I have led him false, for I never told him who I was … and he has been so kind.”

  “Well, as to that, he never said he was a duke … not even to my father.”

  “No doubt traveling incognito. Royals often do,” Scott offered reasonably.

  The two women ignored him, and Becky asked, “Do you hate him?”

  “Hate him? No, how could I, when I adore him?” Felicia said. She blew her nose with Scott’s handkerchief and plopped it on his nightstand.

  He eyed her and grimaced but said nothing.

  “Precisely,” Becky answered and smiled. “Precisely, madcap.”

  * * *

  Belowstairs, the duke attempted to calm his sister’s tirade with a series of ‘buts’ and ‘do but listens’. However, she had built up a flurry of criticisms that she needed to level at his head, and he apparently decided after a time to allow her to do just that.

  When she was done describing the ordeal she had been put to over the last few days, she sank, exhausted, into a chair while he served her the tea and sweets he had apparently and she thought dearly, in his way, managed to order quietly even as she had paced, raged, and lectured him.

  She sipped her tea and took stock. Her immediate thought was that her brother looked too white-faced and stricken. That was not how he usually took one of her diatribes. He always laughed off everything she had to tell him. It was most vexing, but now … now he looked absolutely sick.

  She found this concerned her even more than his usual cavalier attitude with her. She studied him, wondering why this particular tirade of hers had so dampened his indomitable spirits.

  Why, he looked horror-struck. She softened at once and said, “Well, after all, one cannot set all the blame at your door, Glen. It seems there is some explanation for the girl’s queer behavior. From what I was able to glean from the servants … well, I had it through my Sally, who is very good at ferreting out all the gossip—our uncle is responsible for this mess.”

  “How so?” he asked, frowning.

  “The old fellow wrote to her telling her he was coming to fetch her and take her off to Swindon. Of course, then he became too ill to do so, but he never wrote back, and then your letter arrived saying the duke was on its way. The child went into a veritable panic.” She sighed heavily. “Pity that. Poor young thing has been quite on her own and evidently well pleased about it. Couldn’t stomach the notion of some old duke taking her off somewhere horrible … and why the deuce would he want to take her to Swindon? She believed he was going to marry her off to a son or other, didn’t know that he lost his sons to Waterloo … didn’t know he had passed on two months ago. The whole thing has been muddled.”

  “Damned if I know how this all came about, but Swindon is the name of an estate he has, nothing to do with the godforsaken village.” The duke pulled at his lower lip.

  “Now tell me, Glen, you look positively ill. Why is that?”

  “Because, and, Daffy, don’t ask me for details, I am the lowest of cads,” he said and hung his head.

  * * *

  How could he possibly tell his sister that he was the worst scoundrel that ever walked the great land of Albion? He couldn’t. It had been bad enough that he had given in to his lust and allowed himself to take a young and innocent, vulnerable young woman into his bed. He should have made her return to her room. He should not have allowed himself to sweep her away into a passion he had never known before. He wanted her for all time, but how could he take her like that? She was no doubt only infatuated with him, and that would pass with time.

  What now was he to do?

  Not only had she been an innocent, she was his ward, dependent on him for protection, and he was a cad. He, of course, from this moment on, would never touch her again. That was done. He would get those feelings under control. No kissing … no touching … none!

  The Duke of Somerset ran his hands through his black silk waves of hair and groaned. His sister said, “What, what is wrong, Glen?”

  “Scott Hanover and my ward are …”

  “Are what?” his sister asked warily.

  “Upstairs.”

  “What? What nonsense are you at now?”

  The duke’s heart and mind were at war. The battle raged silently in his brain, making all logical thought a difficult matter. What had he done? It had been bad enough of him to have taken her, an innocent, to his bed … and now, now she was his ward. Even if he thought that perhaps she could love him, how could he now ask her to be his wife when it was his duty to present her in London for a season that would allow her to meet other eligible young men?

  Ask her to be his wife? Had he intended to do that? Had his heart been so captivated? It didn’t bear thinking of.

  Pounding in his head was the fact that Felicia, the light in his life, was his ward. He owed it to his name to do the right thing by her and present her to the world, and what then? If he lost her to another, he would shrivel inside.

  “Glen! What do you mean upstairs?” his sister persisted.

  “My ward evidently is upstairs with her friend Scott.”

  “How?” Daffy was flabbergasted.

  “Never mind how, how shall we right this?”

  His sister took to pacing, and he could see her formulating a plan. “How else. She and young Scott were with me the entire time. We came here, and now all of us shall travel to London together.”

  “Nonsense,” he snapped.

  “Why? There is nothing toward in that. No one is to know otherwise, and scandal is averted.” She plopped into a chair and said, “Now, you shall tell me how those two wayward youths happen to be here!”

  He did this, interrupted by her questions, but at length she had the entire tale and sat back with a heavy sigh. “Oh my, honestly … I suppose you are not as evil as I thought. You had to see to the lad, didn’t you … and then, you couldn’t leave them in the lurch. I quite see that.”

  He frowned. “I am a devil, and this is a bloody mess.”

  “A devil? Ah, you began a flirtation with the child? Well, she is a beauty, so that, too, is understandable. Never mind that now. We are all here together, and we shall travel together, and scandal will be very neatly averted for us and your ward. Thank goodness, I had the f
oresight to track down your direction. I have arrived just in the nick of time.”

  He eyed her doubtfully and then turned away. His life had suddenly gone to hell. He heard his sister rise, felt her hand on his back as she asked, “Glen … what is it? What is wrong?”

  “Daffy, you don’t understand. I have been … well, as you said, she is beautiful, and I didn’t know she was my ward … and I have, well … I kissed her … many times and …”

  “Ah, yes,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked into his. “Tell me, though, did you not find it all a coincidence?”

  “What?”

  “A young woman and this young man traveling about the countryside unattended? After all, Felicia is not a common name. How odd that you did not immediately realize she was your ward.”

  Astonishment crept through his body, and he slapped his head. “I did not know my ward’s name. Oh, I knew she was Easton, but she never gave me her last name, and of course, I knew nothing of a Scott Hanover. It is all clear now, after the fact, but … how could I know?”

  “Have you seduced the child beyond kisses?” she asked pointedly, for Daffy was well acquainted with his style.

  “I was most taken with her, if that is what you mean,” was all he answered.

  “Of course you were, but she is not in your usual style, is she?” his sister mused as she gave him an intense scrutiny.

  He snorted. “And what is my usual style?”

  “Well, certainly not an innocent,” offered his sister, scoffing at his reply. “Right then, so you have unashamedly been trying to make love to this girl, who has no doubt fallen for your insidious charms,” she said and then clucked her tongue.

  “She is an innocent, and I am a blackguard,” he answered remorsefully.

  “Well, no more. You will not think of her or flirt with her or be anything but her guardian. You will present her to the world in an effort to attain the best marriage prize out there for her. Are we clear?”

  “We are clear,” he said darkly.

  “Now, the time for formal introductions has come,” his sister pronounced as she walked towards the doorway. “Glen?”

  “Yes, yes, I am coming,” he said, sick at heart.

  ~ Twenty ~

  BECKY HAD INSISTED on hearing the whole of the story twice and finally sat back to burst out laughing and wagged a finger. “If I wasn’t acquainted with you two, I would say it was all a hum!”

  “I wish it were, but so it has always been.” Scott grinned. “She is, as you say, a madcap, forever running about without thinking and dragging me into her schemes.”

  “Dragging you?” Felicia took offense. “And who made you rush off after highwaymen? I tried to stop you.”

  “Aye, there is that. But, Flip, dragging me about is what you do most of the time,” he barked. “Don’t deny it.”

  She sighed. “I suppose that is the truth of it.”

  “Well, things have now turned around, haven’t they? Your guardian is not the old grumpy fellow attempting to bury you in some absurd town, is he? You shall go off to London and have a glorious season, won’t you,” Becky said.

  “Becky, I thought you would understand,” Felicia said dolefully.

  Becky got up and went to the edge of the bed where Felicia sat and hugged her. “I do, dearest, I do.”

  A sound at the open doorway turned their heads, and Felicia felt her heart sink. The duke was looking coldly stoic, and his sister, who Felicia had thought a magnificent figure from the moment she had clapped eyes on her in the parlor, also had a ‘no nonsense’ aura about herself.

  Life would now drastically change.

  She had made love with a man she had hoped to wed. That hope was forever blasted off into the universe, for that man was her guardian and a duke. He would not want her … a country bumpkin who was also his ward.

  Lady Daphne stepped into the room and swept her gaze over the young people while Felicia eyed her warily. She could also see that Ashton, as she would always think of him, seemed to soften as he glanced her way.

  A touch of pity lined Lady Daphne’s words as she said, “Please, everyone, I am not an ogre about to eat you all. Do relax, and we shall do.”

  “Shall we? Not sure exactly what that means,” Felicia answered, determined not to be ‘handled’.

  “I think, first, introductions are in order,” said Ashton as he stood, looking withdrawn and somewhat grim. “I am the Duke of Somerset and your guardian, Felicia, and this is my sister, Lady Daphne Waverly.”

  No one spoke, and he swallowed a long breath of air and turned to his sister. “Apparently, Daffy, this is my ward, Felicia Easton, and her friends, Scott Hanover and Rebecca Wilson.”

  Felicia was not going to allow this new spoke in her weathered wheel to discompose her. Her life was falling apart around her ears in very quick order, but she would manage. She had to manage. She didn’t know how it was that Ashton had somehow turned into her guardian. She was sure it had not always been, and it did render her situation most uncomfortable, but she was, as ever, an optimist. She was sure that somehow she would survive this and find a way to mend this new and enormous problem.

  Her chin was well up as her mind raced, and she said, “Lady Daphne, I am very pleased to meet you, but first I should like to inquire how the deuce is Ashton the Duke of Somerset?”

  Lady Daphne put a hand to her mouth, and Felicia could see she was trying to keep down a laugh, but she turned her gaze to Ashton, who now blinked and inclined his head.

  When he spoke she saw a twinkle in his silver eyes. “As it happens, my uncle, who was both the previous duke and your guardian, passed on two months ago. That left me the title, the estates, and you.”

  She almost choked on this and bit back a smile. Becky interrupted and said, “I think it is time for me to go home.”

  “No, Becky, you must not.” Felicia grabbed for her hand and held her fast as her eyes pleaded for her friend to stay.

  Becky looked from Scott to Felicia and apparently was unable to do what she obviously wanted to do, which was escape. She sighed and said, “Very well …”

  “I have explained how it is that I am your guardian,” the duke said quietly, also looking from Scott to Felicia. “Now, it is your turn to do some explaining.”

  Scott cleared his throat and offered, “I … I may be able to help with that.”

  “There is no need,” Felicia said, getting to her feet. “My guardian here carried on with a lie … no different, no better than what we did. It is all done now. What is, apparently, is.”

  The duke’s laugh was harsh, and he took a step towards her. “You silly madcap … do you never give anything any thought whatsoever?”

  “Whatever can you mean, Your Grace?” she said, one shoulder going up as she looked away.

  She looked back at him and found his eyes narrowing as he said, “It is my intention to do what I started out to do when I was originally headed for Easton.”

  “I shall never go to Swindon with you!” retorted Felicia.

  He shook his head. “Blast Swindon, blast this notion you have of me taking you off to hide you away and marry you off to some nonexistent relative, blast, blast, blast!”

  Felicia’s temper exploded into a fit of the giggles.

  Everyone else blanched.

  Lady Daphne recovered from watching this scene, opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and finally settled on uttering, her hand to her chest, “Well, indeed, as my brother says, no one shall take you anywhere, except to London for your season, and you shall like that very much, my dear, I do promise you.”

  “You are most kind, Lady Daphne,” Felicia conceded as she sobered up and got control of her nerves. “However, I want nothing more than to return to Easton and go on as I have been doing. I managed quite well, and in no time at all, will … as it were, come into my own.” She pulled at her fingers fretfully. “I won’t know anyone in London … and I don’t want to go to balls … I want to stay at Easton
… near Scott and my friends and the life I love—”

  “Stop!” the duke demanded and eyed her. “Where is my spitfire? Where is my indomitable girl, ready to take on the world?”

  Under his gaze she bucked up. “Yes, but there is a difference between wanting and having to, isn’t there?”

  “You won’t regret this, I promise you, madcap,” he returned softly.

  Lady Daphne stared as she watched their exchange, and suddenly she made up her mind. She had intended to stay well out of this and hand off the chit to a cousin to bring out. All at once, she rather thought bringing out this … what did her brother call her, ah, yes, ‘his spitfire’, how very interesting … would be just the thing.

  “Felicia, you know, I have quite made up my mind that what I need is to have you with me for the season. I would like nothing better than to have a friend to go about London with … and then to present to the haute ton. Why, it would quite secure me a place as a London hostess. Would you not help me in this?”

  Felicia eyed her. Was she just being kind, or did she really want to take her under her wing and launch her season? “Secure you? I am not a fool. You are just being kind.”

  “Madcap,” Becky objected. “Say thank you to her ladyship.”

  Felicia bit her lip. “Indeed, I do thank you.”

  “Does that mean you will allow me this pleasure?” Lady Daphne turned and allowed Rebecca to enjoy a grateful glance, “And of course, my dear, I would hope your family will allow you to join Felicia and visit with us for a time at Waverly Place. My Freddy … will find it quite entertaining to have us all fritting about in his well-ordered life. He wrote me just the other day that he is heartily bored and if I don’t return home at once, he means to come and fetch me, so I am certain he will find this very entertaining.” Lady Daphne smiled over this.

  “Can Scott visit as well?” Felicia asked, suddenly warming to all of this.

  “Indeed,” Lady Daphne agreed at once.

  “I shall, Flip. Won’t be able to keep me away. I will set up a bachelor residence nearby … and escort you and Becky about,” Scott offered gleefully. “This will be a lark, see if it won’t.”