Miss Felicity's Dilemma

by Eileen Dreyer

  “I began this all wrong, didn't I?” he asked with a wry smile that settled in Felicity's chest like warm sunshine and made her hands itch to touch him, drat him.

  The fact that he laid the curly brim in his lap like a napkin made it all the worse. “You did.”

  “But you're going to let me begin again.”

  Blast him, now she wanted to smile. “I am?”

  “Of course.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because otherwise you will be forced to ride inside that stuffy stage for two days with enough breaks to swallow some gamy stew and share a bed with three other ladies who most certainly snore and scratch.”

  She refused to look at him. “Not at all.”

  He looked over. “Oh?”

  She fought a grin. “I'm not to be on that coach. I am to be on the next. On top.”

  He did grin. “Even worse. Exposed to the sun, the wind, and the groping hands of that rather oily-looking rector over there. This way you can spend the next few days in the Chinese room at Hedgehog Haven....”

  She was surprised into a laugh. “Hedgehog what?”

  He pulled a face. “Are you making light of my grandmother's house?”

  “Your grandmother? Is she the one who named it...that?”

  “Good heavens, no. She called it Glenhaven.”

  “I know I shall regret this. Then why Hedgehog Haven?”

  His grin was piratical. “If you have to ask that question, it becomes obvious you never met my grandmother.”

  And suddenly she was laughing and he was grinning and she didn't want to get on that stage. “Poor old lady. To have to put up with you for a grandson.”

  His smile was oddly wistful. “She was a right dragon. I adored her.”

  Felicity felt the admission twist in her chest. “I'm sorry.”

  What she wanted to tell him was how much she envied him. To have had a real grandmother. When she'd been a girl...ah, but that kind of memory was pointless, wasn't it? She didn't have a grandmother. At least not one who'd ever expressed an interest in meeting her.

  Suddenly, Lord Flint held out his hand.

  “Come along,” he said simply. “Save me from my father's wrath.”

  She shook her head, even though she had a sudden overwhelming urge to wrap her fingers around that strong, graceful hand and follow him. “I will not marry you merely to prevent a tantrum. Even from a duke.”

  “If you had seen his tantrums, you would not be so cavalier.”

  “Was that his mother you named Hedgehog Haven after?”

  “Yes. Her legal name was Lady Louise Ellen Margaret Flintrush Bracken. Privately we called her The Terror.”

  She nodded. “I imagine she cherished that.”

  “She did.”

  “Flintrush?’

  He scowled. “Indeed.”

  She couldn’t help grinning again. “Well, at least it makes a bit more sense now.”

  “Another of my father’s ideas. He felt it would ensure that I got an estate outside the entail.”

  She just nodded and turned back to the busy yard.

  “I agree with you,” he said, sounding so blasted sincere. “It's a damnable thing. But the duke was delighted to give me an ultimatum. If I don't get to know you, I lose the house. And....”

  He frowned, and suddenly Felicity was surprised to see an odd vulnerability shadow his eyes.

  “…I cannot imagine living anywhere else. From the time I was ten, Gran told me that Glenhaven was my home, that I was responsible for it and its people, none other. And then proceeded to give the duke power over its future.”

  Damn if Felicity didn't feel sorry for him, the third son of a duke. How had that happened? How was she to escape the net he was tightening about her?

  “A little odd, surely?”

  He shrugged. “Gran put little reliance on men. Not surprising, really. Her own father went through two fortunes in under a decade. If her mother hadn't taken control of the finances, you would have been visiting a thatched house these past few days.”

  Felicity nodded. “A woman after my own heart. I wish I could have met her.”

  He actually shuddered. “I don't. Each of you is formidable enough on your own. Together, you might have toppled governments. Can I ask you something?”

  “I don't see why not. My stage is not due for another hour.”

  She knew he was watching her. Still she kept her eyes on the stage as it loaded. She was already afraid if she met those lovely green eyes, she would lose her purpose. Even looking away, she swore she could feel his gaze in her chest.

  “You must see you cannot leave,” he said.

  “I must?”

  “It would be unfair to not even give me a chance to plead my case.”

  She shook her head again. “If I stay in that house with you for a week, I will forfeit any respectable future.”

  “Even if you're chaperoned?”

  Blast him. She wanted to stay. She wanted to see what might happen that could save her from a life of tending other people's children. She wanted to believe in a miraculous place where she could live in the same world as her friends from Miss Chase's. She wanted to believe, even if she knew better. It had ever been her besetting sin.

  Finally, she turned to face him. “Why me?”

  He gave his head a slow shake. “That I don't know. The only information I was given was that you went to school with my cousin Pip.”

  Those words changed everything. Felicity actually gaped. Her heart knocked into her ribs. Sitting abruptly upright, she stared hard at him. “Pip is your cousin?” she demanded.

  Pip, who had championed the less fortunate among the students at their boarding school, especially orphans without a family name to protect them. Pip, who had brought whimsy and revolution to a place so grim the girls had nicknamed it Last Chance Academy. Pip, who had come from a close, extended family, a family who had often taken her in when her own parents traveled off to distant diplomatic posts.

  Suddenly Felicity's heart lurched in her chest. “Sweet heavens. You're Igneous!”

  He groaned. “Save me from smart women.”

  She couldn’t seem to stop gaping. “Why didn't you tell me so in the first place?”

  His scowl was playful. “You never quite gave me the chance.”

  She shook her head. “You should have started with that fact. I would have been much more inclined to listen. At least I wouldn't have slapped you.” She paused a moment, considering. “Well. I might not have slapped you.”

  Especially considering the tales Pip shared of her older cousin who’d acted as a fond brother every time she’d been deposited in the duke's home. Frog-catching, fishing, horse racing, knightly quests shared with the boys from the next estate. Pip loved her cousin. She painted such a picture of him that the young Felicity, with no family of her own, had fallen quite in love. At least as a lonely twelve-year-old.

  This wasn't the time to think of that, however. She needed to steal herself against the pull of his charm.

  “I wish I could help you—” she said.

  “Then do.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “Both. Consider. Even though Pip has spoken of you and your family, what do I really know? You are an excellent whip, you can pip a card at fifty paces, and you will put a worm on a hook for a little girl...well…at least I suppose you still would.”

  “I would. Would you like me to exhibit?”

  She shuddered. “No, thank you.”

  For a moment there was silence between them. The doors slammed shut on the stage and the coachie cracked his whip, sending the horses clattering toward the street, passengers still settling themselves inside. Felicity preferred to watch that orchestrated chaos than think of the mess of her own life.

  “Give me a sennight,” Lord Flint suddenly said, still not moving. “Get to know Glenhaven and me. Find out if we fit you. If we don't, I will send you back in my
own carriage with a note instructing the school that if they don't take you back, they will never again have the children of anyone the Duke of Lynden has ever met.”

  Felicity looked over at him. He looked so relaxed, lounging against the wall with his hands on his thighs and his booted feet splayed in the gravel as if her answer didn't much matter. Felicity knew better. Even if she hadn't just heard about his dilemma, she could tell by the height of his shoulders, as if he were holding himself in place, fighting against action.

  She would be Pip's cousin. Pip's family.

  Turning a bit, she then considered Billy Burke, sitting ramrod straight on the driver's perch on that sleek vehicle, the reins wrapped around his gnarled hands. He was watching her, and he was frowning. Not a 'what a horrible person' frown. A 'what will she do?' frown. He was worried for the man sitting next to her, she realized with a start, which was a change from earlier that day when he'd seen her striding into the stables, still hiccupping with tears, and he’d roundly cursed that same man.

  The old man loved him, she thought. He worried for him. She ached, suddenly, for someone to worry for her. For someone who frowned for her.

  She finally sighed. “I still don't understand.”

  Lord Flint laughed, a rueful sound. “Neither do I. Shall we find out together?”

  Blast him. She wanted to stay. She wanted to know what it would be like to have family. Her own family.

  And yet, she knew all too well what dreams were worth.

  “Stay for a week or two,” he urged, “so we can talk it over without an audience.”

  He did have a point. In an effort to hear the conversation, the people left behind in the inn yard had stopped pretending they were occupied and just stood watching.

  “You can move on, you know!” Felicity informed them all with a scowl. “Nothing is going to happen.”

  One farm wife laughed out loud. “Oh, no, dearie. Somethin'll happen, all right.”

  “But not here,” Lord Flint informed the woman archly. “Because the young lady sees the wisdom of spending a vacation at a lovely estate being supervised by my Aunt, the inestimable Lady Winifred St. Clair.”

  “Ooooeeee,” one of the grooms piped up from where he was gathering used tack. “Proper dragon, that one is, beggin' y'r pardon, my lord.”

  “No need,” Flint said with a grin. “Unless you wish to ask it of the dragon.”

  The ostler brayed and slapped his knee. “Not on y'r life.”

  “Are there any women in your family who are not dragons, my lord?” Felicity asked.

  “I'd say Pip, but I think all she needs is time and a good cane.”

  Felicity wanted so badly to smile. He was right. Pip was impish and clever and bull-headed. Give her a proper cane, lorgnette and forty years, and she would be formidable.

  “Where is she?”

  “Pip? London, I think.”

  Felicity was the one frowning now. “Your aunt.”

  He grinned, and she tumbled a little harder. That dimple. “The west wing of the second floor of Glenhaven. You haven't met her?”

  “Not unless she was polishing brasses in the library. No.”

  His laugh was a bark. “In that case, she probably believes you to be another of what she calls my mad starts.”

  Felicity tilted her head in a perfect imitation of some of the more innocent of her pupils. “You mean like inviting a party of disreputable people to share your house with your fiancée and aunt?”

  At least he had the grace to look chagrined. “They're gone now.”

  “I should hope so,” the farm wife interjected with a disappointed shake of her head. “Otherwise I'll be taking y'r wife home with me.”

  “I am not his wife,” Felicity objected.

  “Not yet,” Flint amended with a smile.

  “Keep talking like that, and the word will be never.”

  There were grins all over the inn yard now.

  “I have a note from the duke that should set her mind at ease,” Lord Flint said. “The old girl is also a stickler for protocol.”

  Felicity actually groaned. “In that case, I sincerely doubt she'll present herself anytime soon. You cannot imagine she would recognize a girl who is unable to identify her own parents.”

  “If the duke told her to, she would curtsy to Napoleon. And if she recognizes you, the entire ton will. She might not often leave Hedgehog Haven, but she doesn’t really have to. I’m surprised you haven’t seen any number of visitors popping up to see her.”

  Still Felicity sat where she was, considering the activity in the inn yard. The entire idea was absurd. What wasn't she seeing? What question did she need to ask?

  “Billy said you were interested in learning to ride,” he coaxed before she could say anything. “You'd have the time to at least make a good start.”

  The dastard.

  “Lord Flint...”

  His grin was brash and bright, his eyes crinkling again. “The name is Flint. Or Bracken if you feel peevish.”

  “I never feel peevish,” she assured him with a sniff. “Although if I were to succumb, I have a feeling you would be the instigation.”

  “Well, come along and find out.”

  Felicity just stared at him.

  “Make up y'r mind, dearie,” the farm wife demanded. “We got a stage to catch.”

  “Oh, for the love of heaven,” Felicity snapped, jumping to her feet. “Fine. I'll go.”

  Swinging around, she leveled a glare on her companion that should have frozen his eyes. He lifted his hands in a gesture of innocence and almost popped himself in the eye with his hat. Giving him one last glare, Felicity shoved the bag into his arms, straightened her skirts, and marched over to the curricle.

  “Well?” she demanded of the diminutive head groom who was grinning at her from the driver's seat.

  Billy Burke jumped right down and held his hand out, his bright blue eyes twinkling. “Ah, sure now, he's not all that bad. He can ride like the devil, and you saw him wield these horses here, all right.”

  Felicity chuckled. “Indeed. What else do I need to know?”

  Without another objection, she let the little man hand her up onto the coach. After all, he did have a point. Besides, the stables at Glenhaven did have some fine horseflesh in them, which had been the only thing keeping Felicity at the house even this long. The least the Bracken family could do for her was give her a few more days in the saddle.

  Tossing the carpetbag up, Lord Flint climbed into his own seat with a grumble and gathered the reins in his gloved hands as Billy Burke took up his perch behind. Waiting only until the curricle creaked with the little man's weight, Bracken flipped the reins and turned the restive chestnuts back through the gates.

  Felicity didn't realize how glad she was to go until she heard clapping from their audience back in the yard. “I wouldn'ta told him no neither,” she heard from the farmwife as they passed through the archway onto the high street.

  It was obvious Lord Flint had heard it, too by the grin on his face.

  For not the first time, Felicity wondered if she were making a mistake.

  Chapter 4

  As he guided the sleek curricle through the Gloucester traffic, Flint fought a surge of ambivalence. He had succeeded in getting Felicity off the coach. But as he swerved around a beer wagon, he saw the tall squared-off bell tower of Gloucester Cathedral lurking over the rooftops, as if judgment were following him through the streets. The results of his actions would be good for him. But would they be good for Felicity Chambers?

  Assuredly not. And there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Felicity....” he began.

  “Miss Chambers,” she immediately corrected like the veriest deb.

  He fought a fresh grin. She kept surprising him, although he wasn't sure why. If she had survived that awful school she'd been condemned to, especially as an orphan, she had to have her share of grit.

  Pip had filled him in on the draconian conditions that h
ad existed until his spitfire of a cousin had fomented rebellion. The girls had been sent for their safety to the most unsafe place in Britain. And Felicity would have been caught dead center without even the protection of a family. It once again occurred to Flint to wonder why.

  “Miss Chambers,” he corrected, knowing damn well Billy Burke had a big grin on his face where he was perched up behind. “How about we put a two-week deadline on our little mission?”

  “Your mission,” she corrected, eyes straight ahead, hands clasped in her lap.

  He wanted to smile again. Most people new to his driving would have been clutching the railing like a drowning person. Felicity seemed perfectly comfortable swaying with the motion as if she were seated on a ship in high water. He was impressed.

  “Well,” he said, his own attention back on Mack and Jack as the horses threw up their heads at an urchin who chose that moment to dart into the street.

  “Here now, lads,” he calmed them, pulling them out of the way.

  The child skidded to a stop and shot Flint a cheeky grin and a tip of his disreputable cap. The horses snorted at the boy as if he had earned their disgust. Alongside him Flint heard a breathy little chortle and felt a bit better. At least she wasn't weeping.

  “As I was saying,” he said, easing the reins a bit as they reached the edge of town to give the horses their heads. He didn't like it that he still hadn't escaped the shadow of that bloody bell tower. Did everyone in this town feel judged, as if God were glowering down at them?

  “As you were saying,” Felicity prompted.

  “Yes. As I was saying. We both have a mission. Mine is to try to talk you into marrying me...”

  “Because of your high regard for me.”

  He chuckled. “Keep showing me such sass, and I will have a very high regard for you. You should know Pip is my favorite cousin, and you remind me of her a bit.”

  Next to him, Felicity seemed to slump a bit.

  “She is well?” she asked, sounding more tentative than she had since he'd met her. “I haven't been able to...well...”

  He shot her a quick look to see the sadness in her rich brown eyes. “Difficult for a teacher in a young ladies' academy to mingle with the ton?”