He beamed at them all. The lady gave a soft laugh, released Gerald’s arm and stepped forward, holding out her hand.
‘Well, Nathan, I can see that I have surprised you into silence. How gratifying.’
Nathan touched the lavender-gloved fingers and bowed over them. ‘Ma’am. What brings you to town?’
Another of those soft, seductive laughs. ‘Oh, boredom, and a desire to seek out old friends.’ She spread her hands. ‘As you can see I am still in mourning.’
The lady’s gown of silver-grey silk was cut very low at the neck and very high at the waist, making the most of her ample bosom, while the thin skirts clung to her shapely legs. Felicity thought she had rarely seen anything less suited to a widow. No wonder then that Gerald could not take his eyes off her.
‘Lady Ansell,’ said Gerald, ‘you will not know Miss Brown. Let me present you.’
Felicity froze. The widow subjected her to no more than a cursory glance. There was no sign of recognition, but Felicity’s relief was tinged with anger when she realised that she was being dismissed as being of little importance. Lady Ansell lost no time in turning her limpid gaze back to Nathan. Gerald immediately began to chatter again.
‘Well, well, I am sure you would like to catch up on old times. Miss Brown, this is our dance, I think…’
He was holding out his hand to her, but Felicity did not know if she dared let go of Nathan’s arm. She hesitated, but found Nathan lifting her fingers from his sleeve and handing her to his cousin, saying, ‘Yes, thank you for your company, Miss Brown, but I must not monopolise you.’
Felicity allowed Gerald to lead her away and as she did so she was aware of the widow stepping up, taking her place at Nathan’s side, her voice almost purring as she said, ‘Well now, my lord, let us find somewhere we can be private…’
‘Up to your old tricks, Serena?’ asked Nathan, gently removing her hand from his sleeve.
‘I have no idea what you mean.’ When he made no reply she pouted and once more tucked her hand in his arm. ‘What, still sulking with me because I preferred Adam Elliston to you?’
‘I was never one of your admirers, Serena, you know that.’
He was aware of heads turning in their direction and his irritation grew. The knowing looks being cast towards them showed that many of the guests were drawing their own conclusions about his relationship with Serena Ansell. Thank heaven Gerald had taken Felicity away. He did not want Serena to destroy the fragile trust he was building there. The widow gave a little sigh.
‘My period of mourning is almost over; I think I might risk dancing with you.’
‘But first you must wait to be asked,’ he replied.
She laughed gently. ‘Oh, how ungallant, my lord! Well, at least escort me down to supper, Nathan.’
‘I regret that is not possible. I am required to attend the grand duchess this evening.’
‘That did not prevent you from dancing with the little chit who’s just walked off with your cousin.’
‘No, but I promised to return directly, which I am now going to do. I suggest you go back to General Rowland and let him escort you.’ He disengaged himself once more, gave her a quick nod and walked away, leaving the widow staring at his retreating back.
‘Do you…do you know Lady Ansell well?’
Felicity’s voice sounded very odd, but Gerald did not seem to notice.
‘Lord, no, never met her before tonight. Heard of her, though.’
They took their places in the set and Felicity hoped she would remember the steps. Her mind seemed to be working very sluggishly. For the first few minutes she concentrated on the dance. When she closed with Gerald she could smell the wine on his breath. That was why he was so garrulous. She thought she could use it to her advantage.
‘What have you heard of her?’ she asked.
‘Oh, things. Not really fit for a lady’s ears.’
She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. ‘Surely you can tell me.’
‘Oh, very well.’ He lowered his voice a little. ‘She has a bit of a past.’ He mouthed the next word, lovers, and winked at Felicity. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if Rosthorne had an interest there at one time.’ A sly grin curled his mouth. ‘Perhaps she’s come back to rekindle an old flame. There’s no doubt that she is a dashed attractive woman. That glorious hair and those green eyes—irresistible combination!’
Felicity did not reply. The light-heartedness that had been growing within her was now replaced by a lead weight. She declined a second dance with Gerald, pleading a headache, and as he led her off the floor she looked around for Nathan, but he and Serena had disappeared. An ice-cold hand clutched at her heart. Gerald obviously believed that no red-blooded male could resist the luscious beauty of Serena Ansell.
And Nathan was every inch a red-blooded male.
There was a sudden flurry of movement in the corner of the room. A lady had fainted, a common occurrence in hot and overcrowded ballrooms. As she crossed the room to see if she could help, Felicity caught a glimpse of rose-pink skirts and a tremor of alarm ran through her as she pushed her way through the crowds. Her fears were realised—it was Lydia. She was lying back in a chair, her eyelids fluttering as someone waved smelling salts beneath her nose. Felicity rushed forward.
‘What happened?’
‘Is that you, Fee?’ Lydia put out a trembling hand. ‘I am a little faint. Perhaps you could help me to my room?’ As Felicity helped her to her feet, Lydia smiled at the crowd around her. ‘No need for this fuss. Pray continue to enjoy yourselves; I shall be better in a little while.’
‘We should find Sir James—’ said a voice in the crowd.
Lydia waved her hand. ‘No, he is busy with our guests. Miss Brown will look after me.’
While Janet put her mistress to bed, Felicity sent a footman running to fetch the doctor. She returned to find Lydia lying back against her pillows. She was alarmingly pale, but gave a wan smile when she saw Felicity.
‘A lot of fuss about nothing,’ she murmured.
‘Not at all. We have to look after you and the baby. I shall sit with you until the doctor comes.’
Felicity pulled a chair beside the bed and reached for her hand. Lydia sighed and closed her eyes. After a few moments her steady breathing indicated she had fallen asleep. As the silence settled around them, Felicity was left with nothing to do but to think back to the last time she had seen Serena.
Felicity had stood in the mirador, her hands pressed against the glass as she watched Nathan ride away to join his regiment. She was determined not to cry, but loneliness pressed in upon her, and after a restless night she knew she must find some activity to fill the long days until she heard from Nathan. She remembered the kindness of Colonel McTernon’s wife at her wedding and decided to seek her out. She was about to put on her warm pelisse when the little Spanish housemaid knocked on the door and announced a visitor.
Serena Craike sailed into the room in a cloud of olive-green velvet, her hands buried in a swansdown muff.
‘Ah, my dear, I thought I should come and see how you go on.’
‘I was about to go out,’ Felicity greeted her shyly, indicating the pelisse thrown over her arm. ‘I thought I might visit Mrs McTernon…’
‘Oh, it is far too early for that; she will not yet have broken her fast.’ Mrs Craike laughed gently. ‘I can see that you are not yet used to our ways, Miss…I mean, Mrs Carraway.’
Felicity turned to put her pelisse over a chair. ‘Will you not sit down, Mrs Craike?’
‘Thank you, but I can only stay a moment. I thought I might drop a little word of warning in your ear.’
‘Warning?’
‘With our menfolk gone we shall be left to entertain ourselves, and when ladies get together there is nothing they like better than gossip.’
‘Oh? How does that affect me?’
Serena gave another soft laugh. ‘Bless you, my dear, you must know that your marriage is quite the on dit of our lit
tle circle.’
Felicity shifted uncomfortably. She did not want to talk about her marriage.
After a minute or two Serena continued. ‘Yes, when the handsome Major Carraway suddenly announces that he will marry, you can imagine the speculation.’
‘But there is no secret about it. My circumstances—’
‘Yes, that must be very hard for you, my dear.’
‘Why should it be?’
Serena’s smile was all sympathy. ‘To know he married you out of pity. Oh, there is no need to colour up, child. I am sure Mrs McTernon and her circle think that he acted most honourably by you, but you must be prepared for a little talk.’
‘Talk, madam?’ Felicity shook her head. ‘I cannot think why—’
‘Can you not?’ Serena’s green eyes were fixed on her face. ‘But everyone knows Nathan is desperately in love with me.’
Felicity was stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by one of the huge white waves she had seen rolling on to the beach. Fearing she might faint, she sat down on a chair, but not for a moment did she take her eyes from her visitor. Serena Craike regarded her with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.
‘Did he not tell you? Perhaps he thought you knew of it already.’
‘I do not believe you.’ She remembered Nathan’s words when he first told her of Serena—Adam is not the first man to fall under her spell. Dear heaven, did he mean himself? Trying to fight off the thoughts and images that crowded in upon her, she muttered, ‘It is not true.’
‘I thought you might say that.’ Serena pulled a letter from her muff and held it out. ‘You will recognise the writing. Nathan gave it to me yesterday.’ Her smile grew. ‘Did he not tell you? He came to see me, shortly after he had left you.’
With trembling fingers Felicity took the folded paper. It was a single sheet and covered with Nathan’s familiar black writing. The words danced on the page and she was obliged to blink several times before she could make sense of it. My Passion. The very first words cut into her heart. She forced herself to read on. Nathan had not used the word love, but it was apparent in every line. Felicity’s eyes filled with tears.
‘No.’ She shook her head. There must be some other explanation, although her poor brain could think of none. She turned the paper over. ‘There is no name on this. It is not addressed to you.’
She raised her eyes. Serena met her challenging look with a contemptuous smile.
‘He did not need to address it; he gave it to me personally.’ She pulled off her glove and held out her hand. ‘With this.’ A black cloak of unhappiness wrapped itself around Felicity. There, on Serena’s slim finger, was a thin gold band engraved with thorns.
In the ballroom, Nathan looked in vain for Felicity. If she did not appear soon it would be too late to join the dancers gathering for the waltz. He recalled hearing someone say that Lady Souden had fainted, so perhaps Felicity was looking after her. His jaw tightened. His wife should not be playing nursemaid to anyone. The sooner he restored her to her rightful place the better! He heard a heavily accented voice behind him, and turned to find the Emperor approaching with Serena Ansell on his arm.
‘Ah, Lord Rosthorne, the man for whom we look.’ The Emperor beamed at him. ‘Lady Ansell, she wishes to dance the waltz. Myself, I would escort her, but we have already danced twice tonight and the tongues, they will wag, no?’
‘Majesty, I regret…’ Nathan paused, casting one more look about the room. Still no sign of Felicity. He turned back and bowed, trying to ignore the triumph in Serena’s cat-like eyes. ‘Majesty, it would be my pleasure to dance with Lady Ansell.’
Felicity wiped away a tear. So Serena had come back. To rekindle an old flame, Gerald had said. As the maid opened the door she could hear the orchestra striking up in the ballroom. They were playing a waltz. Nathan had asked her to dance a waltz with him. Lydia stirred.
‘I am glad I have not broken up the party,’ she muttered. ‘You should go downstairs, Fee.’
‘Yes, yes, I will, if I may. Just—just for a few moments.’
She sped out of the room and down the stairs, pausing halfway down to look across to where the double doors stood wide. Just in time to see Nathan whirling by with Serena Ansell in his arms.
She gripped the handrail, afraid that her knees might give way. Then she turned and made her way back up to Lydia’s room.
‘Back so soon?’ Lydia murmured. ‘There is no need, Fee. I shall be perfectly safe with Janet to look after me.’
‘No, I shall stay with you, Lydia, until the doctor comes.’ Felicity dragged up a smile that went slightly awry. ‘There is nothing for me downstairs.’
Chapter Eleven
The night was giving way to a clear dawn when Felicity finally left Lydia’s bedchamber. The doctor had come and gone and Felicity had stayed with Lydia, holding her hand until she had fallen asleep, by which time the orchestra had finished playing and the last guests were leaving the house.
Felicity decided against going back downstairs. She was desperately tired. The re-appearance of Serena had awakened all her old anxieties. Gerald’s words echoed in her brain and her last image of Nathan waltzing with Serena did nothing to convince her that he was impervious to the widow’s obvious charms. She thought that the little bubble of happiness growing within her must have been made of glass, for now that it had fractured, the sharp pain of her disappointment was unbearable.
It was a week later when Nathan returned to London and he made his way directly to Berkeley Square. There had been no opportunity to speak to Felicity before he left the Soudens’ ball. Understandable, of course, with Lady Souden being carried off to her room, but he was anxious now to see her again.
‘So,’ said Sir James, when Nathan was shown into the study, ‘your royal charge has left England.’
‘Yes, Sir James. We stopped off at Portsmouth where there were sufficient cheering crowds and 21-gun salutes to please his Highness, then on the Saturday morning the Emperor and the Prussian royals breakfasted with the Duke of Clarence before leaving for Dover where, thank heaven, the weather was favourable and nothing delayed their departure.’ Nathan drained his glass. ‘And now I am back, and wish to see my wife.’
There was the slightest of pauses.
‘Ah.’
Nathan watched Sir James get up and refill the glasses.
‘Is something amiss?’ He was suddenly tense. ‘Is Felicity ill?’
‘No, no, your wife is very well, Lord Rosthorne.’ Sir James handed Nathan his glass and returned to his seat. ‘You may recall that Lady Souden was taken ill on the night of the ball.’
‘Of course. I trust she is now recovered?’
‘Unfortunately, no.’ Sir James’s face was unusually solemn. ‘We feared she might lose the baby, but that has not happened. However, her doctor prescribes complete bed-rest. I wanted to take her back to Souden, but she is too ill to be moved.’
‘I am very sorry to hear it.’
‘Thank you. Your wife has been a great support during this time—you will know that Lydia had asked her cousin to come and live with her, but unfortunately the woman broke her leg and is now tied to her own house. And even if she was available—’ Sir James broke off, sombrely regarding his glass. At last he looked up, his grey eyes meeting Nathan’s. ‘My wife needs peace of mind, Rosthorne; Dr Scott insists that she must not be upset or disturbed in any way. You know the bond that exists between your wife and mine; I very much fear that if Lady Rosthorne was to leave now, it would distress Lydia greatly. I would therefore ask if you would spare her to us for a little longer.’ He put up his hand. ‘I can see by your face that you are minded to refuse, and you have every right to do so. Felicity is your legal wife. But I would ask you, as a friend, to let her stay.’
Closing his lips tightly against any unwary comment, Nathan jumped up. ‘And what does Felicity say about this?’
‘Lady Rosthorne is anxious not to do anything that could endanger Lydia’s health.’
After a few hasty turns about the room Nathan found himself by the window and paused there, staring out. ‘Another delay—how long could this last?’
‘Possibly until October, when the baby is due.’ Sir James came to stand beside him at the window. ‘We might lose the child. If that is the case, then so be it, but my concern is Lydia. I will do everything in my power to save my wife.’
Nathan looked at the older man. He noted the sadness in his eyes, the lines of worry etched upon his face. It shocked him to realise that Sir James was so desperately concerned for his wife. This man, this great diplomat who had the ear of princes, who consorted with royalty and advised the government, was actually begging him not to take Felicity away. With a sigh Nathan turned again to look out of the window. The bright sun was still shining down, the day was as full of promise as it had been when he had arrived, but not for him.
‘I would do the same, in your place,’ he said quietly. Sir James placed his hand on his shoulder, his touch eloquent of relief, gratitude and a measure of sympathy. ‘I would like to see my wife for a few moments, if that is possible.’
‘Of course. I will send her down to you.’
Felicity entered the study. Nathan was standing at the window, staring out into the street.
‘I am glad you are back safely, my lord.’
‘Are you?’ He turned and crossed the room to greet her. He kissed her hand and would have kissed her cheek, but she drew back with a tiny gesture of denial.
‘I cannot stay long,’ she said quickly. ‘Lydia becomes very restless when I am away from her.’
His hand cupped her chin. ‘Are you in constant attendance upon Lady Souden? Poor Fee—that would explain the dark shadows beneath your eyes.’
Forcing a little smile, she freed herself from his grasp. ‘Yes, that would be it. Sir James has told you—explained…’
‘Yes. I was hoping to take you into Hampshire tomorrow. I have already written to my mother—she is eager to meet you—but it seems that that meeting will have to be postponed.’
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