The resulting conversation gifted Felicity with some quiet moments to her own thoughts. What had she done? Had Lord Ridgecrest just dismissed the thought of an alliance with her? Perhaps. And standing so close to him, his hands at her waist, was oddly flat feeling. The thrill she’d felt at imagining Lord Bolton’s hands at her waist was an entirely different experience. She sucked in a breath. “No.”
No, no, no, no, no. I am not attracted to that lord.
She walked closer to hear more of the conversation between Lord Ridgecrest and Mr. Garvey, but no matter what she did, thoughts of Lord Bolton returned.
CHAPTER 5
“K eep your eye on the prize, man.” Abraham lifted his chin for the valet, who was obviously so used to his random mumblings that he didn’t even answer. “She is nothing to you.”
But even after a fitful sleep, he could not forget Lady Felicity, eyes alight with joy, hair streaming out behind her in a beautiful wave. She was absolutely the most stunning woman Abraham had ever seen. He shook his head, the valet pausing in his tying of the cravat. Abraham had best remember that Lady Felicity was not Miss Tanning.
And Miss Tanning’s eyes had lit when he lowered her from her horse. Miss Tanning had agreed to a walk this morning, and Miss Tanning had twenty thousand pounds to her name. He’d never even heard of Lady Felicity before now. He guessed she came from an obsolete, small estate—her father was perhaps a baron. Abraham considered her in a different light. Perhaps he would ask Ridgecrest. The man seemed to know her previously.
No matter what Lady Felicity turned out to be, he was making progress with Miss Tanning, and he could not afford to lose ground there. He considered his bargain with Lady Felicity. He’d seek her out today. She was going about her pursuit of Lord Ridgecrest all wrong, though if the man didn’t see what a stunning creature she was, he was daft and blind. And couldn’t be helped. Abraham snorted. She’d beat the man who prized horseflesh and his seat above all else, beat him on a horse. Ridgecrest wouldn’t heal his hurt pride for days, Abraham was certain of it. The memory was assuredly burned into his soul. And not for the same reasons, Abraham was having a difficult time forgetting the ride.
Simmons cleared his throat.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Garvey has left again this morning.”
“Odd host, to leave his own party.”
“They say he is invited to events with Prince George.” Simmons straightened Abraham’s jacket. “Cook has warned us all, breakfast will be a light fare.”
Abraham snorted. “If it’s anything like our supper, I might choose to eat elsewhere.”
“I know a few of the guests have done precisely that. There is a bakery in town that boasts an assortment that might tempt your eye.”
“Thank you, Simmons. You are a gem. I shall bring you back something.”
He nodded. “I would not complain. Thank you, my lord.”
“I suspect you suggested it because you were worried about your own meal as much as mine?”
He grunted.
Abraham smiled. “We shan’t be here forever Simmons. Try to forbear.”
Abraham made his way downstairs, determined to spend the entire day convincing Miss Tanning to accept his suit. Thanks to his valet, he knew precisely where their morning walk should take them. The bake shop.
He did not even enter the parlor where breakfast awaited on the sideboard, but waited in the front foyer by the door. The home was finely appointed. The magnificent stairwell rising up behind him would impress any visitor.
Movement caught his eye coming from one of the hallways that fed into this main entryway. A brightly colored skirt stepped back again into the shadows. Curious. He waited. And then she came into view again, a nonchalant façade firmly in place. Lady Felicity. She walked by him as if to pretend he wasn’t there, her small nose in the air while she studied the paintings on the opposite wall and then the stairwell. She spent an inordinate amount of time studying the staircase. Was she planning to ignore him altogether? His smile grew. And he cleared his throat.
She stopped. “Oh. Lord Bolton. Hello.” Her overly large surprise at happening upon him made him grin. What was she about?
“Are you going in to breakfast?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No, I was up early and tasted a few bites. That was sufficient.”
He stepped closer. “We have not as yet had the chance to converse about the results of your efforts yesterday. Lord Ridgecrest helped you down from your horse?”
She blushed furiously, and the disappointment that niggled at his amusement surprised him. Did he wish she would blush in reaction to his own efforts?
She found her voice. “He did.”
“And?”
She shrugged, her shoulder lifting in one delicate rise. “And we will see, won’t we?”
Chattering voices sounded from the breakfast room, and Abraham recognized Miss Tanning. “And now I could use a bit more of your assistance.”
Then Miss Tittering’s nasal sounds joined that of Miss Tanning.
“Oh bother.”
Lady Felicity’s eyes widened. “Is that?”
“The woman on the beach.”
“She thinks I’m someone’s ward, a Miss Bumbly.”
“And Miss Tanning knows you for you.”
She widened her eyes in panic. “What shall we do?” Then her lips pursed, and she crossed her arms. “I should very well let you try and talk your way around this mishap, since it is your doing.”
“Perhaps it best you hide?”
“For the entire house party?”
“No, of course not, but at least in this moment until we can contrive a solution?” The sound of chattering had paused at the door, but any moment, the women could walk through. His eyes pleaded with her. What an odd turn of events that he should so desperately need this woman’s assistance on multiple occasions.
“Oh, very well.” She hurried down the hallway from whence she came just as he turned to greet the women. She called over her shoulder. “But this must be addressed, before dinner and parlor games.”
“What a pleasant happenstance.” He smiled and then bowed in greeting to Miss Tanning, Miss Tittering, Mrs. Harrow, and two other women to whom he had not yet been introduced.
Miss Tanning offered her hand, which he took and placed a kiss upon. She turned to the others. “We have all have expressed a desire to walk this morning, perhaps as far as town?”
Abraham swallowed back his immense disappointment at sharing Miss Tanning’s company. Did he imagine it, or was Lady Felicity’s giggle moving down the hallway behind him? Oh, she would enjoy his torment. “I would be delighted. Shall we begin?” He held his arm for Miss Tanning to take, and then Miss Tittering stood on his other side, clutching at his arm. Soon he was overwhelmed with womanly chatter.
Miss Tittering was still chattering on after they’d walked to the end of the drive and down the path that would lead them to a row of shops and stores on this side of Brighton. “And I just couldn’t believe my luck to happen upon our dear Lord Bolton on the beach just yesterday.”
He nodded. Miss Tanning had given up pretending interest and was focused on the beautiful views out to their right. The rocky cliff edge behind them, the water to their side, and the lovely tall grasses and windy path to their front. Abraham would have been enchanted, had he the good fortune of Miss Tanning by herself, or at least more closed-lipped company.
“You won’t believe it. But he was escorting someone’s ward, and I thought to myself, what a dear man.”
He cleared his throat.
“Who but the most caring among us would do such a thing, and at a house party no less.”
“Well, actually—”
“I saw her. She’s here at the party with us, if you can believe it. And living in excellent circumstances if what I’m hearing is correct.”
Excellent circumstances? He waited for Miss Tittering to continue, but she did not. Blast the woman, in the one second her c
hatter had at last become interesting, she became fixated on something in her reticule.
“I do feel it incumbent upon me to explain her situation. I have since learned her to be titled, and perhaps not the ward I once thought?”
Miss Tanning raised both eyebrows. “Not the ward you once thought?”
“No, it’s all very interesting and surprising really, but she’s here with us and a good friend of Lord Ridgecrest. Miss Tanning knows her as well. Lady Felicity.”
Her confusion warred across her face, and Abraham didn’t know what else to do but spell it out straight.
Miss Tittering had at last sorted through her reticule, and Abraham knew she was about to begin again so he said, “Miss Tanning, tell us of your home.”
Her face softened. “It is the best of places. I know of no other location in all of England half so lovely as the rolling hills of the Lake District.”
“Oh, then you feel right at home near the ocean.” Abraham wished to rest a hand over her own, but with his arm otherwise engaged, he tried to feel satisfied with their limited closeness.
She continued on about her family, her father’s employment as the local clergy, her stables at home, and he found his mind wandering. Lady Felicity’s race to the stables, her head leaning forward, eyes full of fire, was never far from his mind. He snorted back a laugh.
“Did I say something funny?” Miss Tanning’s disapproving expression chastised his woolgathering.
“No, certainly not.”
“I would think the loss of our dear mare would not be at all amusing.”
“I do apologize. Sometimes when our emotions are strongest, they appear the most disheveled. I most certainly did not wish to laugh at such a loss. Tell me more about her.”
She seemed somewhat mollified, but he took care to pay close attention and did enjoy a dimple that made an appearance now and then. He enjoyed her quiet nature and her intelligence, and the longer he eased into the slow movement of her quips and tales of home, the more he admitted that life with her could be nice, slow, good.
They at last made it to the street, and the other two who had been walking behind them gathered around. “They are said to have a good assortment of ribbons.”
“I am at your leisure. We can go into every shop, but we must pay a visit to the bake shop.”
“Oh yes. Let’s go there first.”
The group as one entered the shop to a very pleased shopowner. “Do I have the pleasure of serving more of the Garveys’ guests?”
Abraham nodded. “You most certainly do.”
They gathered at a table with their choice of items from the bakery. He got a couple custards and something that made him grin, a Banbury cake. “Do you know the meaning of these lovely pastries?” He held up a bit with his fork. “Banbury cakes.”
“That’s a Banbury cake? As in, to tell a Banbury?”
The other ladies gasped at Miss Tittering’s crass comment.
“It is a rather uncouth word, is it not? But my dear ladies, it comes from so simple a thing as this innocuous treat right here.” He offered a bite to Miss Tanning. She dipped her head in a deep blush but then lifted her chin and accepted a piece from him.
As he watched her lips close around the currant-filled pastry, he expected to feel some sense of excitement at so intimate a gesture, but instead, he felt rather flat. A wave of disappointment hit him. He knew he’d be marrying someone for her assets, but the romantic part of his sensibilities had hoped that more might develop, at least a bit of heart thumping. But that hadn’t happened since the last time he’d been with Lady Felicity.
CHAPTER 6
F elicity and Mrs. Dotting set out to find the drawing room. Lord Ridgecrest was nowhere to be seen, and she knew some of the group had set out for the bake shop in town shortly after Lord Bolton had left. She approached one of the maids. “Would you mind telling me where I might find a group of the ladies?”
The bright young girl smiled and curtseyed. “Yes’m. M’lady. There are a group of them taking tea in the conservatory.”
The ladies had a table and chairs set up with beautiful lace and tea but few cakes, fewer sandwiches. Felicity remembered some of their names.
Mrs. Daw met her at the glass door that led into the conservatory. The housekeeper was a cheery woman with eyes that sparkled like Felicity’s grandmother’s. “Oh, Mrs. Daw. How are you this morning?”
“I’m well, m’dear. I wish I had a few more sweet things for your tea, but it is lovely here, isn’t it?”
“It’s completely charming.”
The worried expression cleared, and her eyes shone with a pleased expectation. “It is charming, isn’t it? That lace comes from the missus’s great-grandmother.”
“Does it really?” Felicity stepped into the group of ladies and fingered it. “I’ve never been good at tatting, especially not this quality. The stitch work is also remarkable.”
Miss Tinsdale, a lovely but quiet woman she’d met yesterday, patted the chair beside her. “Do sit and join us, Lady Felicity, Mrs. Dotting.”
“I’d be delighted. I came to find you and was pleased to see you situated in such a pleasant circumstance.” She turned to Mrs. Daw. “You could stay and join us . . .”
“I should say not.” Miss Hastings’s eyebrows were so far up in her hairline, Felicity wondered if they had been lost.
Mrs. Daw chuckled. “Now, that wouldn’t be right, would it? But I’ll tell you ladies a secret I don’t tell every guest.”
They leaned forward, even Miss Hastings, who had found the idea of associating with Mrs. Daw so abhorrent moments before.
“I keep tarts in the kitchen. If you find yourself not being able to sleep, I’m often in there finishing up a batch. I’d welcome a bit of company any time.” She patted Felicity on the shoulder, and the motherly nature of the gesture nearly brought tears to Felicity’s eyes.
“Thank you, Mrs. Daw. I might join you this very evening, then.”
“I’d be pleased.” She nodded and then left them to the maids and footman.
Miss Hastings took the liberty of pouring tea. “I’m afraid it’s rather weak.”
“Like every meal we’ve had.”
Felicity smiled, shaking her head. She’d never been to a house party before, but surely they were not all like this one. She sipped and tried not to make a face. “Their conservatory is lovely. At least there’s that.”
Miss Tinsdale smiled gratefully. “I am looking forward to exploring. I hear they have a particularly rare lemon tree. And some species of rose that their gardeners are creating right now.”
Felicity could tell she was holding back a measure of her exuberance. So, Miss Tinsdale was a horticulturist. How interesting. Felicity had a new interest in talking with her. “Perhaps we could walk together and you could point out different species of interest?”
Miss Hastings snorted, but Miss Larkin, a previously quiet young lady piped up, “Oh, I would enjoy that as well.”
“Then it is decided.” Felicity stood. “Shall we? Unless you are enjoying your tea?”
They all stood, even Miss Hastings. Miss Larkin led the way with Mrs. Dotting at her side.
To Felicity’s surprise, Miss Hastings sidled up next to her, placing a hand on her arm. “I think we can become friends. Though I do not hold a title myself, most of my friends are from the highest, most impeccable families.”
Felicity swallowed. A sudden, unexpected thrill at being thought of in such a manner felt delicious. She imagined for a moment that she was entering Almack’s, that eyes turned to her with hopeful expectation. Men lined up to fill her dance schedule. And no one looked away with raised eyebrows. The comfortable feelings of acceptance washed through her. But then she remembered all those years of women such as Miss Hastings, sidling up with others, looking over their shoulders in superiority. So she said only, “I’d like to know you better, Miss Hastings. Thank you for the distinction in singling me out.”
“Oh, well certainly.
And we cannot deny the interest from one male gentleman.” Her eyes sparkled with the enticement of new secrets.
“Has there been such a one? I’m afraid I’m unaware.” She tried to stem the hope that rose inside. Could it be Lord Ridgecrest was interested enough that others, too, were noticing?
Miss Hastings whispered. “Certainly, Lord Bolton is not one to be overlooked. As handsome as he is.” She giggled, and Miss Tinsdale looked over her shoulder from their front, an all too familiar, self-conscious expression tightening her face. Irritation rose fast and furiously in Felicity. “Lord Bolton indeed.” She called up to Miss Tinsdale. “Come now, let us discuss the flora. Miss Tinsdale, I am most anxious to learn about the chocolate tree I hear might be growing here.”
The exclamations of curiosity and new energy in the group made Felicity smile. But she didn’t miss the narrowed eyes of Miss Hastings. As Felicity hurried forward to join the others, she pressed her hand on the miss’s arm. “My apologies. I’ve realized we are neglecting our tour guide. But you should know, my interests lie elsewhere, and I assure you, his do as well.”
Miss Hastings pressed her lips together. “So you say.” Her eyebrow rose. “But if you’re certain you are uninterested, then he is a prize to be won for any of us, is he not? Penniless though he is, at least his face and amiability recommend him.”
Penniless? She did not know much about Lord Bolton. She dipped her head and hurried forward to join the others gathered around a small, unassuming bit of green, just unfurling leaves from the dark rich soil.
Lord Bolton indeed. He’d ruin her chances if she wasn’t careful, especially if people were already talking, noticing them together. She thought back on their hurried conversations, their secretive glances. The whole of the party guests, including Lord Ridgecrest, could easily have thought them to be forming an attachment. She bit back a groan. Well, no matter. She would now avoid Lord Bolton no matter what further emergencies or need for subterfuges would befall him. The thought gave her great satisfaction and only a hint of disappointment. For his jovial smile and his help in winning Lord Ridgecrest had been a useful and diverting distraction.
Charmed by His Lordship (Regency House Party: Havencrest Book 3) Page 4