Felicity recovered her senses and offered him a halfhearted reprimand of her own. She responded jauntily enough, ‘Your behaviour is outrageous sir, but I have given my solemn promise to Richard and mama that I shall not make a scene today, so I will refrain from doing so. I am determined to live through one day at least, without being a termagant.’
‘Just one day?’ Alex laughed. ‘Shame, I always live in expectation of what you will do next.’
‘Well I regret I will have to disappoint you, for I am going to be the model of propriety.’ And then she added with a mischievous grin, ‘well at least for today.’
‘I cannot wait to see what tomorrow brings then,’ he replied with roguish humour.
By that time, they had reached the castle gate, the Countess bent down to stroke Tiber. ‘Goodness why is Tiber making so much fuss,’ she asked. Felicity bit her lip. ‘I don’t know mama; he may have spotted a mouse in the gutter.’ Sophia tickled him behind the ear and suddenly he was off again into the castle grounds, which was a veritable doggy heaven of grass, bushes, creepy crawlies and rabbit holes.
Chapter 12
Felicity Inadvertently Diverts the Hunt
The following day was the day of the hunt and Alex invited all of the party to join them. Much to his disappointment Felicity declined. She loved the thrill of the chase but she could never quite stomach the kill. The fox may be considered as vermin but she could not quite bring herself to believe that the poor animal deserved such an end, so she elected to stay at home with her mother and the Dowager. The three men had left after an early breakfast and the house seemed quiet. Felicity joined the ladies in the drawing room but very soon began to feel restless. She walked over to the window, leaned against the frame with folded arms and looked out onto the vista. She gave a heavy sigh. It was a mild November day and she was beginning to wish that she had gone along after all. At a push, she could have held back at the kill so she did not have to witness it. It was something she sometimes did at home but she never quite succeeded in avoiding the unpleasant scene completely and it always distressed her.
The Dowager, who was sitting with the Countess sewing samplers, noticed her restless behaviour. ‘Have you not got a sampler of your own you can work on Felicity? I am sure I can find something for you.’
Her mother looked up from her own work. ‘When it comes to sewing Flick has two left hands. She could not set a straight stitch if she tried.’
Flick sighed. ‘I am afraid it is true. I have neither the talent nor the inclination. Whatever I attempt, it always turns out crooked.’
The Dowager smiled. ‘You must have some talent Felicity, what would you like to do?’
The Countess eagerly replied for her. ‘She is very good at drawing, and Latin and French and she has a remarkable singing voice.’
‘You sing my dear,’ asked the Dowager quite surprised. ‘You must let me hear you.’ She pointed to the grand piano. ‘I would feel myself most privileged if you would consent to sing a song for me.’
Felicity could hardly refuse such a genuine request and walked over to the grand piano. It was a beautiful piece of furniture made from highly polished mahogany. It was finer than her own instrument at Lealholme Manor. She sat down and ran her fingers lovingly over the ivory keys to familiarise herself with the feel of the instrument before she began. With brilliant clarity and sweet melody, she launched into the haunting melancholic tune of Greensleeves. The Dowager, who had not expected a voice so lovely, opened her mouth in total astonishment and then changed her expression to that of admiring appreciation. ‘You have the voice of an angel my dear and that gives me a very good idea. I think we should have a musical evening. We shall invite some friends over and you can sing for us. I will invite one or two others to sing as well so you do not have to sing the whole evening, but I swear you will put everyone else in the shade.’
The Countess looked delighted. ‘That is a wonderful idea. You would not mind would you Felicity?’
Felicity could hardly refuse and nodded her agreement. Having a good voice, she was quite used to such requests and it compensated a little for the way she always seemed to get herself into trouble.
‘It is agreed then,’ the Dowager said. ‘I shall arrange everything for Sunday evening.’
Felicity regaled the Dowager with a few more songs then retired to the chair in front of the fire. Tiber who had been basking in front of the crackling flames pricked up his ears at her approach, emboldened himself and jumped up onto her lap. He curled on her thighs in pure bliss and settled with his chin resting on her knees. Felicity tickled him under the ear and spoke to him. ‘What shall we do today Tiber?’ The dog looked up with expectant eyes. ‘Shall we, mmm let me think - sew samplers?’ Tiber looked at her in disgust and settled his head again. ‘Shall we mmm,’ Tiber looked up again expectantly with pricked ears, ‘sing some more songs,’ she continued. He gave her another pitiful look and turned away. She laughed. ‘Shall we...’ the dog looked up again and watched her as she gave the matter some thought.
The Countess laughed. ‘Flick, do not tease the little fellow so. He looks so forlorn.’
Felicity laughed and looked at Tiber as he looked up expectantly again. ‘Shall we go for a walk then?’
Tiber jumped off her knee and lolloped about her chair in excited anticipation, jumping up with his forepaws, barking, and wagging his short stumpy tail.
‘You know that word, don’t you?’ she laughed. ‘I wonder who taught you that.’ She looked at the Dowager rather apologetically. ‘Would you mind dreadfully if I took Tiber for a walk?’
‘Not at all dear,’ the Dowager replied, ‘but I would stay within the grounds if I were you. Remember the hunt is out and if Tiber should get in the way, the hounds may tear him to pieces and I would not want you to get lost.’
Felicity jumped up, she was nearly as excited as the dog at the prospect of going out in the fresh air and ran off to get her pelisse. The Dowager shouted after her. ‘Go to the stables and the stable boy will give you a dog lead dear.’ She turned to the Countess. ‘A charming girl and I can see that she loves the great outdoors.’
‘Yes,’ the Countess sighed. ‘She is a constant worry to me. She is never as happy as when she is outdoors gallivanting across the countryside. I am forever on tender hooks when we are in London, fearful of what she will do next.’
The Dowager looked sympathetic. ‘You should not worry so Sophia. There is nothing as fickle as the London ton and it is only natural that Felicity should feel stifled.’
Felicity spent a good hour walking around the gardens. Even at this time of year they were lovely. She made a circuit around the ornamental lake and made her way up to the little folly situated on a small mound. Tiber engaged in his favourite pastime of searching out rabbit holes and chasing crows or anything that moved. She walked through the small orchard and eventually found herself in the most wonderful rockery she had ever seen. The rocks rose far above her head and were covered in fern and moss. They twisted and turned carving out secret pathways rather like a fairy dell. Each little path led her to a perfect little spot each with a delightful surprise, a flowerbed, a small waterfall or a pond with carp. There were nooks and crannies, and in the middle was a small stone bench, where one could sit peacefully and contemplate. She was carried away by the magic of the place for she had never seen anything quite like it before. She sat there for a good 20 minutes while Tiber sniffed around the rocks, pawing at insects and spiders in the undergrowth and crevices.
She began to feel cold and regretfully had to move on. She was not quite ready to go indoors yet but she had exhausted the grounds. She decided that she would go down to the river. Having been there before she remembered the way and recollected the Dowagers warning she put Tiber on the lead. The little dog looked at her mournfully, not at all happy with finding some strange object around his neck. ‘I know,’ she consoled him; ‘it reminds you of that horrid rope when I pulled you out of the river, but I promise you it is
for you own good for the hunt is out.’
Felicity made her way down to the river where she found a little riverside path and was strolling blissfully along when she heard a noise in the distance. She strained her ears to listen. It was the sound of barking hounds and what is more they were heading her way. She stepped to shelter behind a tree and watched as the hounds approached. The pack was getting closer and then to her horror, when they had arrived at the point where she had intersected their path, half a dozen of the hounds broke off from the main pack and headed in her direction. She did not stop to think. She picked Tiber up and threw him up onto the overhanging branch of the tree. She quickly scrambled her way up after him and then climbed up onto a higher branch. She made it just in time as the dogs had reached the base of the tree and were barking and jumping up in an effort to reach them.
The hunt was following closely behind. Alex noticed that the dogs had branched off and waved the rest of the hunt on. ‘Go ahead,’ he shouted over the din. ‘I will go and guide them back.’ Alex divided off from the rest of the hunt and followed the errant dogs until he reached the base of the tree. He looked up to see what the dogs were barking at and to his consternation saw Felicity sitting on an upper branch, legs swinging and staring down at him. Tiber was sitting on her lap yapping at the foxhounds beneath them.
‘Good Lord Felicity,’ he exclaimed. ‘What are you doing up there?’
Felicity peered down at him and waved towards the barking hounds. ‘I would have thought it was quite obvious,’ she said acerbically. Alex just gave a patient sigh. ‘Should I rephrase myself and ask how did you get up there? This first branch must be nearly above your head.’
‘Oh,’ Felicity replied, in playful cajolery. ‘It is amazing what you can achieve when you have a pack of hounds snapping at your ankles. I must say your hounds are not particularly bright when they cannot differentiate a fox from this dear little dog.’ She sighed and waved at them. ‘Well don’t just sit there as if you have caught a cold. I would like to come down and preferably today if it is no trouble.’
Alex climbed down out of the saddle and reached into his saddlebag to pull out a scented cloth. He held the rag to the hound’s noses to familiarise them again with the aroma of the fox. They began to sniff at the ground and with a little coaxing from Alex recovered the scent and hurried on their way. He peered back up into the tree. ‘You can come down now they are gone.’
Felicity climbed down on the lower branch of the tree, her petticoats gently sliding up as she did so. Alex could not help but admire her smooth calves and the shapely turn of her ankles as she nimbly stepped down onto the lower bough. She stood on her tiptoe and reached up to collect Tiber. ‘Here,’ Alex said, ‘hand him down to me.’ Felicity lowered the little dog carefully into Alex’s hands. He put it gently down on the ground, and then he reached up with both his arms. ‘And now you,’ he ordered firmly.
‘I can quite manage,’ she said, as she sprung down from the branch, but he stood resolutely in front on her to break her fall, catching her by the waist and guiding her to the ground. He gave her a mischievous grin, ‘Why I do not remember the last time I went fox hunting and caught something so divinely lovely.’ He did not relinquish her but drew her to him. ‘I do believe I am going to kiss you.’
She did not pull away but looked up with bated breath and a pounding heart as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, only this time it was no fleeting kiss like the one he had bestowed in Knaresborough but passionate, intense and full of tender feeling. Alex finally pulled away and trailed his lips across her cheek and down her neck savouring her soft, warm flesh. Felicity succumbed to the excitement of his touch and felt her body crumble under the fervour of his passion. Tiber recognising this unfamiliar behaviour as an assault on his heroin’s person began to snap at Alex’s legs. Getting no response the little dog became emboldened and began to jump up scratching at the Marquis’s riding Jacket. Finally, Alex pulled away in irritation and cursed. ‘I do swear that one day I will lose patience with this little fellow.’ He raised his voice. ‘Down boy!’ The dog sat back on his haunches with his ears pinned back and whined, not daring to disobey the imperative tone. Alex could not help but laugh. ‘I think you found yourself an adoring slave the day you pulled that little fellow out of the river. I am sure he just exists to thwart me.’ He sighed. ‘You know I would much prefer to stay here with you but if I do not make tracks and rejoin the hunt, they will be sending out a search party. Come I will escort you back to the gate.’
‘No, that will not be necessary,’ she replied, ‘You had better join your party. I can easily make my own way back.’
Alex hesitated. ‘Well if you are sure,’ he replied, ‘but make sure you do because I cannot guarantee that the hunt will not return this way. ‘And oh,’ he added. ‘Try to keep yourself out of trouble for the rest of the day if you possibly can manage it.’
Felicity opened her mouth to reply but he bent down to thwart her with one final kiss. He jumped up into the saddle, steered his horse in the direction of the hunt and before she knew it he galloped on his way. Felicity watched him until he was a speck in the distance and then flushed with exhilaration she turned to walk back to the house.
******
It was late afternoon when the men returned to Stansfield Park and walked into the drawing room. Alex was holding Richard upright as he leaned against his shoulder. He was hopping on one foot and his face was as grey as parchment. Felicity quickly got up out of her chair where she had been quietly sitting reading and ran to her brother’s side. ‘Goodness Richard, whatever have you done?’
‘I caught my foot in one of those damn rabbit holes and twisted my ankle,’ he cursed in pained annoyance.
Alex escorted him over to the chaise long and deposited him upon it. ‘My father has ridden out for the doctor; hopefully he will be here soon.’ He slowly removed Richard’s boot. Richard winced in pain but bore the indignity magnanimously. Alex examined the ankle that had swollen to twice its normal size and observed with exasperation. ‘I would say at the very least he has sprained it badly. Hopefully the doctor will be here soon and give a diagnosis.’
Richard did not have to wait long for the doctor. He suffered the pain with equanimity as the doctor probed and examined his ankle. He finally stood up and gave him his verdict. Richard had not broken it but the sprain was as bad as it could be. He must keep it up as much as possible and take laudanum for the pain, meanwhile he would strap it up and make him comfortable. The doctor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and remarked that overall, he was a healthy young man and he saw no reason why he should not fully recover within two or three weeks.
‘Two or three weeks!’ Richard gasped. He slumped down on the chaise long in complete frustration. Two or three weeks were an eternity.
Chapter 13
Disaster at the Theatre
Alex and Richard were the first down to breakfast the following morning. Although the doctor had confirmed that Richard had just sprained his ankle, it never the less was as equally painful as if he had broken it. Alex had suggested that Richard should stay in bed and keep his foot up, but he insisted on getting dressed and coming downstairs. With a little support from Alex, he made his way to the dining room hobbling in on one foot and leaning on his friends shoulder. ‘We shall have to acquire a stick for you,’ Alex pronounced as he escorted him to a chair. ‘I am sure we will have something suitable somewhere.’
The Duke had left the house early as his gamekeeper had called him out. He had reported that he was having a problem with a poacher and yet had no success in apprehending the fellow, if indeed there was only one. The poacher had proved annoyingly elusive. He wanted the Duke to inspect the traps he had found and approve a course of action. The Dowager for her part had elected to have her breakfast in bed as usual.
Richard was reading the paper and Alex was reading his mail when Felicity and her mother arrived for breakfast. The two gentlemen looked up as the l
adies entered the room and sat down. The Countess addressed her son. ‘How are you this morning Richard, I would have thought you would have the sense to stay in bed. You know you should really keep that foot up.’
Richard grimaced. ‘I will mother but I do not desire to spend my whole day in bed. I will rest in the drawing room in company. Alex has arranged for my comfort and arranged for a footstool so I can keep my foot up.’ The Countess gave Alex an appreciative nod and smiled.
‘Anyway look,’ Richard said holding up the newspaper, in an effort to change the subject, ‘the Barber of Seville is playing at the Georgian Theatre in Harrogate.’
‘Oh really,’ Felicity exclaimed excitedly stretching across the table and almost ripping the paper out of Richard’s hands to see for herself. ‘Is it the opera by Rossini? It just came out at the beginning of the year in Rome and I have heard it has had excellent reviews.’
Richard snatched the paper out of her reach to finish reading it. ‘No,’ he replied, ‘It is just Pierre Beaumarchais’s’ French comedy. You are in Harrogate and it is out of season Felicity, you are hardly going to get a big production here at this time of year.’
Felicity looked disappointed but strained her head trying to see the paper. ‘For goodness sake let me see Richard,’ she said trying to snatch the paper again. Richard gave in and handed her the broad sheet and she read the review. ‘It should still be good,’ she said. She looked at Richard eagerly. ‘Shall we go; it will be a lovely evening out?’
Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance Page 12