Hanukkah at the Great Greenwich Ice Creamery: A heart-warming Christmas romance full of surprises

by Sharon Ibbotson

  Felicity sighed, all thoughts of a hired carriage receding as she once again assessed her circumstances and came to the usual bleak conclusion. Walk she would, though the simple inn where she lodged was half a mile away and uphill. Walk she would, though her feet ached from having stood so long already. She looked down, frowning as she took in the fashionable slippers she wore, an enticing hint of green silk peeking out from under her skirts. Undoubtedly, they were pretty, delicate and distinctly feminine. But they were also tight, uncomfortable, and unsuitable for anything other than sitting. Felicity, motherless from a young age and mostly unschooled in the ladylike arts, had no idea how ladies of quality ever managed to wear such painful shoes for dancing. She knew that she herself would much rather take to the floor in a sturdy pair of boots or, better yet, barefoot.

  Not that there was any chance of that, she reminded herself sternly. She could hardly afford to put a roof over her head let alone the subscription fees required for an assembly room. Dancing, like most of life’s pleasures, was as out of her reach as the stars, as out of her reach as—

  Momentarily, Felicity stiffened. She would not – no, could not – allow herself to think of the pleasures that were denied to her. No good would come from that; Felicity knew all too well that there was no money to be made in dreaming.

  Resolutely, she looked up and away from her shoes, accepting them once again as a necessary evil. For, if there was one thing she knew from her years of gambling and from her father’s years before her, it was that no one ever took desperation seriously; you had to look as though the money meant nothing to you. And so, Felicity dressed in the full regalia of an upper-class woman, from the jewelled ornaments in her hair to the silk stockings on her legs. That her dress had been mended twice was practically unnoticeable under the dim light of the gaming hell, and if her shoes were slightly worn, well, she never knew a gentleman to refuse her a wager based on the soles of her slippers.

  For a moment she closed her eyes, the weariness in her body momentarily winning over her ever alert mind. But it was only for a moment and then, with another sigh, she opened them.

  Ice took hold of her body while fire burned in her heart. She was suddenly unable to move, her thoughts in chaos. She viewed him as though from a dream. How little he’d changed! From his dark hair to his muscular frame, he was every inch as she remembered him. Her heart pounded wildly, yet her legs were still frozen, her arms chilled. Within her panicked mind thoughts rambled wildly. What was he doing here? Why had he come?

  Suddenly, his piercing blue eyes met hers. He stared at her coldly, before setting down his glass of port and starting towards her.

  Her instinct for survival reared its head, and she knew she must move now, run if she had to. Edward Addington, the Earl of Addington and champion of all that was honest and true, would want nothing good of her.

  But just as she turned towards the door, she felt the cold, iron grip of his hand upon her arm. She was pulled roughly towards him, and for the first time in five years they were face to face.

  ‘My dear Mrs Fox.’ Edward gave a curt bow, though his hand still cut into the flesh of her arm. His breath was warm against her cheek. ‘How charming to run into the infamous Queen of Diamonds this evening.’

  She wished he would lower his voice. ‘It is unfortunate if you are looking for the Queen of Diamonds,’ she replied tersely.

  ‘Why so?’

  ‘She was left in London, and at your request, if you recall.’

  ‘True. And yet Felicity Fox still stands before me, plying the Queen of Diamond’s old trade and using her tricks.’

  Felicity could feel his eyes upon her, intently searching for a crack in her armour. Well, if he wanted her to beg his forgiveness a second time, he would be disappointed. So instead she made no reply, chewing on her lip and refusing to meet his gaze. He did not like this; a powerful man, Edward was unused to being ignored. With a low growl, he brought his free hand to Felicity’s face and tipped her chin so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

  ‘Felicity, you will make time for an old acquaintance?’ It was posed as a question, but Felicity knew an order when she heard one.

  Shaking his hand from her skin, Felicity gave a frantic glance about the room. Edward was a large man who invariably made a presence, and it would never do for any of the men she gambled with to think her untrustworthy. God knew that rumours spread quickly from town to town, even up here in the north.

  ‘I have no acquaintances here,’ she murmured, hoping against hope that Edward would let her be.

  Edward smiled, though it was a false one. ‘My dear Mrs Fox! Allow me to refresh your memory … we met five years ago. You must recall, it was just after you tried to swindle my family of our diamonds? You must remember, that necklace of heavy stones?’

  ‘I…’ Felicity stammered, her heart still racing. ‘I do not…’

  Edward tutted lightly. ‘It is a famous piece, of course. Named the Carina, for the constellation. A beautiful item, and worth a considerable sum. I’m surprised you have forgotten.’ He paused, regarding her with a dangerous narrowing of the eyes. ‘Last I saw you, you were greatly interested in the Carina. Couldn’t keep your thieving hands off it, in fact.’

  Felicity froze. So that was how it was going to be. Well damn him, the insufferable fool.

  Her arm still locked in Edward’s hand, Felicity thought rapidly, constructing a plan. The fertile picking ground that was London and the south was already denied to her; she was not about to let Lord Addington destroy what little career was left to her here in the north.

  Putting on a deep and flirtatious smile, Felicity playfully tapped Edward’s shoulder, as though she found the whole thing simply too amusing.

  ‘Why, your lordship, you do tell the most wonderful of jokes! Of course, I recall our acquaintance five years ago; it was when I was staying at Addington House, as a guest of your father.’

  She emphasised the last words, speaking for the benefit of the gentlemen about them, who hadn’t the manners to pretend they weren’t listening.

  Edward returned her smile. He knew her game.

  ‘You’re quite right, Mrs Fox. You were a guest of my father. Such charming company he kept!’

  He released her arm, knowing full well that she could not run now.

  A pronounced silence followed, though neither took their eyes off the other. Felicity tried to put her rambling thoughts in order, but Edward’s gaze, so intent and searching, made coherence near impossible. She would have to speak first, to break this palpable feeling of powerlessness in his presence.

  She spoke honestly. ‘My lord, allow me to offer you my condolences. I was saddened to learn of your father’s passing.’

  ‘I’m sure you were.’ Edward cleared his throat, a small tell. It was clear that discussing his father made him uncomfortable still. ‘It seems your glass is empty, Mrs Fox. Do allow me to get you another wine.’

  He held up his hand to a passing manservant, but Felicity stopped him. She put one hand over his and was surprised to feel a sudden tension in his fingers. He looked at her hand against his skin, and Felicity knew that somehow she’d made an error in touching him. A dart of anger went through her. Of course, the noble Lord Addington could manhandle her, but for a swindler like herself to lay hand on him! Such a thing was clearly not to be borne.

  ‘Actually, your lordship, there is no need. I was just leaving.’ Her voice was cool and even.

  ‘The tables have been unkind to you tonight?’ He looked over her shoulder to the table with the dice. It was evident from his words that he had been watching her all evening, that he had witnessed that last throw of the dice. How could she have been so thoughtless? After all the drama with the diamonds, she made a rule of only wagering in the smaller gaming hells, unseen by anyone who might have known of her London infamy. She should have known to look for Edward in the shadows. She should have been more observant. Obviously, she’d grown careless. After five years, she�
��d started to imagine that – finally – she might be safe.

  ‘You could say that.’ Felicity was uncomfortable. Desperate to change the subject, she curtsied. ‘So, you must excuse me for the evening, my lord.’

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips, bowing as he did so. Under his breath, so that only she could hear, he suddenly spoke.

  ‘Nothing so easy as that, Felicity. I must speak with you – away from here.’

  What could he want of her? How was he offended now? She pulled her hand away.

  ‘I’m sure you have the address of my lodgings?’

  It was a question she already knew the answer to. Edward was not the kind of man who would travel so far if he was not sure of her whereabouts. Someone would have been sent to watch her. How else would he have known where to find her tonight?

  ‘Of course.’ Edward nodded, confirming all her suspicions.

  ‘You may call on me tomorrow then, if you like.’

  With more poise than she felt, Felicity turned and left the room. Pulling her cloak about her, she took the stairs calmly, though her legs still felt weak. When she reached the cobbled street, a gust of fresh sea air swept over her and she gasped, as though she would never breathe easily again. It took all of her might not to collapse into the gutter.

  ‘What could he want? What could he want?’ she asked herself frantically, her mind turning over, her chest tight with anxiety.

  Felicity forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She had few resources at her fingertips, and could not afford to lose her nerve at a time like this. On unsteady legs, she began the climb to her inn, following the uneven road away from the gaming hell. Nestled into a cliff, the streets of Scarborough were hilly and the night air, so open to the ocean, chilled her to the bone. But she forgot the pain in her feet and the ice of her skin as she walked. All she could think about was Edward, and what she was to do.

  Her first impulse was to run. She knew the rules; that when the stakes were too high, when your fingers might get burned, you turned away. If she packed tonight and left before dawn, she might just escape. She could be in Newcastle by lunch, and over the border into Scotland by the evening.

  But even as she thought through this plan, she discarded it. If Edward was the man she remembered, he would anticipate her every move, stopping her in her tracks. But more than that, Felicity discovered she had no real desire to run from him. In the five years since their last meeting, she was almost certain she’d done nothing to offend him, nothing that could possibly make him seek her out as he had. Five years ago, his instructions to her had been clear: stay away from London, stay away from him, or be thrown to the magistrates. Felicity, a born survivor, hadn’t thought twice in following such stern orders.

  Not that her exile from London wasn’t hard, for she missed the easy winnings of the gaming hells and the deep pockets of their wealthy clientele. But better the north than prison. Better the north than the hangman’s noose. And Scarborough was not so bad, Felicity reminded herself. A seaside town, it attracted a good number of guests eager to take of the waters and the fresh sea air. They brought money and society to the weathered stone town, providing Felicity with an ever-changing roster of men to charm and fleece in equal measure. No, it was not London, or even Bath, and here she was no lioness, feasting at the kill, but Scarborough had given her a decent livelihood, and she was happy to scavenge from the outskirts of good society what she could.

  So, if Edward had not come to confront her, to hand her over to the courts, what had he come for? She could only deduce that there was something he wanted of her. But what? What could Edward Addington, the most honourable man she had ever known, want of her, a common criminal? A notorious gambler? The woman he himself had exiled?

  Felicity paused at the door of her lodgings, taking a sweeping glance at the streets around her before she put her key in the lock. It was an old habit, born from the days she’d been on the run with her father, always needing to stay one step ahead of the bailiff. Even now, years later, she felt a dart of dread and that old fear of discovery, wondering if tonight was the night they would be found, and her father taken away. But she pushed the feeling down quickly, taking in the reassuring tattiness of her room, just as she had left it, with its worn bed, damp walls, and rotting floorboards. The only difference this evening was the addition of a small hip bath before the fire, battered and rusty, with scrub marks down the side. Though it was old, and most likely used by hundreds before her, the sight of the bath in her room made her smile. She relished the opportunity to wash away the grime of the gaming hell, and the salt and smoke smell of the Scarborough air that clung to her skin and hair.

  But the bathwater was icy when she stepped into it; evidently Mrs Smith, her landlady, had drawn it far too early. Still, Felicity eased herself into the water, biting down on her lip at the cold. She’d paid a half shilling for this bath and would not let it go to waste. Shivering, she cleaned herself quickly, only taking care to wash her hair, every drop of the icy water like a pinprick of pain on her skin. It was not vanity – she could not afford such a sentiment as that. Though she hated herself for it, she knew she wanted him to see her at her best.

  Him. Edward.

  It was decidedly odd to be thinking of Edward once again, Felicity thought, wrapping her arms around her legs in a futile attempt to keep warm. After five years of putting him from her mind, of swearing not to dwell on her memories of his voice, his eyes and his skin, here she was again, thinking only of him.

  ‘Enough,’ she spoke suddenly to herself, as though to break the spell. ‘Enough of this. You must keep your wits about you. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you met?’

  The last time they met. It still made Felicity chill with fear when she thought of the rage in Edward’s eyes. How close, how dangerously close, she had come to burning herself on the metaphorical fires for him.

  Her father, long ago, had impressed upon her the three cardinal rules of gaming and swindling: Play small. Don’t get burned. Don’t let emotion get involved. With Edward, Felicity had broken them all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Queen of Diamonds appeared to be losing her touch.

  With one hand wrapped around a glass of port Edward sat by the bar in this most depressing of northern gaming hells, reflecting on what he’d seen.

  Of course, he’d been watching Felicity all evening. From the moment she’d entered the room to that final, disastrous throw of the dice, the throw that cost her one hundred guineas, he’d stayed hidden in the shadows of the room, watching and waiting.

  At first, he’d simmered with anger as he saw her wager and win. The poor devils in this room were clearly completely unaware that they were in the presence of one of the greatest gamers London had ever seen. Felicity’s natural aptitude for cards, combined with an almost unbelievable talent for mathematics, made her practically unbeatable. And, as expected, Felicity flirted and charmed them all to the point where they probably forgot they were losing, and to a woman at that.

  She’d made a small but respectable amount of money at the card tables. Why had she then taken to hazard? Edward went from anger to confusion. He knew from her time in London that she generally steered clear of the dice whenever they were brought out.

  And she’d lost. Lost everything she’d won that night, and more. It was practically unthinkable; Felicity Fox, infamous gamester and swindler extraordinaire, losing, and in such a dingy and downtrodden establishment as this.

  Edward’s eyes flickered over his surroundings with distaste. The walls and furnishings were worn out and the colours faded, whatever design and fashion they once boasted long since gone. It was a gaming hall as tired and shabby as the clientele who patronised it, with an overwhelming smell of salt-sea air, smoke and fish. Edward, who was an infrequent gambler and rare visitor to the more exclusive London clubs, sneered openly. This was exactly the sort of seedy den his father had been fond of, and it did not take much
for Edward to picture him at the tables, wagering away his fortune, a painted whore dangling from his arm.

  So, this then was where Felicity ended up after he’d exiled her from London all those years ago. A frisson of guilt went through him, which he tried to swallow down. It was nothing to him, he reminded himself sternly, what that girl did with her life or where she chose to ply her trade. He’d forbidden her return to London and cast her from his life. A light punishment for her serious crime, he reasoned. That she ended up here, in this bleak northern town, losing at the hazard tables in a pitiful gaming hell, should not strike him with guilt at all.

  Losing. Edward furrowed his brow in confusion. The Queen of Diamonds never lost; wasn’t that why he was here? At least she’d had the common sense to walk away after that final throw of the dice. His father had never shown such restraint, always thinking there were a few more guineas to be wagered from the Addington family fortune, another heirloom or two to be sold for a pittance to feed his insatiable habit.

  Edward’s hands clenched. Feeling his anger build, he resolved to put his father from his mind. He brought himself back to the present and his current requirements. It still perturbed him that Felicity lost so spectacularly tonight. Perhaps she had grown desperate in her exile, and perhaps that desperation affected her skills. Edward sighed. That wouldn’t suit his current predicament at all. He needed Felicity at her most efficient. At her most ruthless. All tonight had shown him was that the Queen of Diamonds seemed to be losing her touch. Perhaps she wasn’t the person he needed after all …

  ‘Interesting woman, your friend.’ A gruff voice interrupted Edward’s thoughts. Irritated, he turned to find himself looking down upon a portly gentleman who reeked of strong wine. But he would not reply, why should he? He did not know this man and made a point of avoiding common drunkards.