Dangerous Joy

by Jo Beverley

  "Very well. So to have the raising of the lad would satisfy you?"

  "It would."

  "And you also want Miles."

  Felicity felt her color flare and remained silent.

  "Come now," said Beth, stopping to face her. "It does no good to prevaricate. He clearly loves you. Do you love him?"

  "I do," Felicity muttered. "But I will not let that weigh with me."

  "We'll bear that in mind. So, you would not object to marrying Mr. Dunsmore for a brief time, then once widowed, marrying Miles?"

  Felicity felt rather bludgeoned by this cool analysis, but she tried to reply in the same manner. "After a fashion, that is my plan. Though I'll make a true marriage of it if Rupert behaves. I have some scruples, you know."

  "That won't please Miles."

  "Damn Miles!"

  Beth focused a severe look on her. "I don't think he deserves that."

  Felicity knew she was flushing like a guilty child. "If he'd not interfered, everything would have been settled by now."

  "You mean, you would be married to Dunsmore, subject to his petty cruelties, his nightly invasion of your body..."

  Blanche interrupted the confrontation. "Felicity, I have to point out that when men die in suspicious circumstances, the wife is always the first suspect. She has to convince the world of her true devotion to escape prosecution. A mere glance at recent events would cast grave doubt on your devotion to Mr. Dunsmore."

  Felicity could feel her temper rising. "Precisely! And that is Miles Cavanagh's fault! I can bear Rupert's pawing—I even liked it once. And people around my home know I once was mad for the man. They would have thought little of my marrying him, except that I was unfortunately besotted!"

  "What's done is done," said Beth, "and we have to plan for the future." She moved forward again, heading back to the distant house. "Deaths which appear to be accidents are surely not hard to arrange."

  "By St. Bridget, but you make it sound as simple as planning a dinner!"

  "That reminds me..." Beth said with a frown, then continued straight on. "A fall off a cliff, for example. Or a drowning. Does Mr. Dunsmore swim?"

  "I have no idea."

  "If you have the chance, find out. Now," she continued, "clearly our main problem is gaining legal control over young Kieran. That won't be easy, but the main opponent may well be this cousin Michael rather than Dunsmore. He will be only too keen to take charge of the boy when he comes with an estate and fortune, and we couldn't even contemplate wiping out inconvenient players in the game."

  "Not to mention his wife and four sons," muttered Felicity.

  "Quite. But it might be possible to persuade him to our point of view. Does he have ambitions?"

  "Ambitions? He's some kind of merchant, I believe."

  "A merchant. Excellent. Then he can probably be bought."

  Blanche laughed. "Do you know, Beth, for a person of egalitarian principles, you are beginning to sound dreadfully like Lucien."

  "Am I?" asked Beth, stopping in surprise. "Goodness, I suppose I am. I apologize to Mr. Michael Whatever-his-name-is for impugning his honor merely because he is in trade. It could well be that he will put sincere concern for his cousin's welfare above any mercenary gain."

  "Unlikely, though," said Blanche with a grin.

  Felicity brought them back to the point. "So we might be able to bribe Michael not to stake his claim to Kieran. We still haven't any real solution to Rupert, though."

  "We'll have a council of war tonight," said Beth. She smiled at Felicity. "Though at times I'm most uncomfortable with rank and privilege, you have a great deal of it on your side through the Rogues. And I gather Miles's uncle, the Earl of Kilgoran, carries great weight in Ireland."

  "And his mother is a Fitzgerald."

  "So there has to be a way, even to circumvent the law. Stephen will know if anyone does. Sir Stephen Ball. He arrived late last night. As well as being a Member of Parliament, he's trained in law. But we must be careful not to hint at crimes in front of him. He doesn't like his conscience too cluttered."

  "And he spends time with all you Rogues?" Felicity remarked. "How peculiar."

  * * *

  The rest of the afternoon was spent in leisurely pursuits. Blanche returned to her feathers. After attending to some household matters, Beth returned to her book, which proved to be an edition of Sophocles in Greek. Felicity found the piano and passed the time pleasantly enough with Gardeen curled up nearby, tail occasionally twitching in rhythm.

  After a while, Blanche came to listen and suggested some vocal duets. Felicity's untrained voice was no match for the professional, but still it was a delight to make such music.

  Then Beth appeared. "Now, now," she said with a smile, "as I understand it, Felicity, you are supposed to be in a state of black rebellion. This hardly matches the picture."

  "I have no one present to rebel against."

  "I can change that." With a teasing smile, Beth held out a book. "To the library, young lady, and read."

  Felicity took the slim volume with unfeigned reluctance. "If it's Sophocles, it'll be all Greek to me, indeed!"

  "It's English and less than thirty years old. Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. When you've read it, we can discuss it."

  It wasn't a strain for Felicity to glower. "Did I mention that I've always been a wretched student?"

  "Did I mention that I've always been an excellent, and very determined, teacher?"

  Only partly acting, Felicity flounced off to the dauntingly sober library to read her set text. She was soon fascinated, however. In some places her attention was caught by the excellent points made, but in others she was in strong disagreement with the author. She found paper to mark places of particular interest, anticipating a discussion.

  Then voices warned her the men were home. She went into the hall to find four happy, windblown, mud-splattered gentlemen in hunting pink rhapsodizing over a day chasing vermin.

  She paused a moment to study the three men she did not know. Definitely not ones she would choose as opponents in life. Two were tall with superb physiques—one dark, one glittering blond. The third was a less showy blond, and less physically impressive, being of slighter build, but there was something in his lean face that suggested a daunting intellect.

  She'd lay bets he was Stephen Ball, the Member of Parliament and legal expert. The Rogue with some scruples left.

  Then Miles saw her. She'd swear he almost smiled but controlled it. "Been behaving yourself, Felicity?"

  Time to play her part.

  "What choice do I have, stuck here in the middle of nowhere?" she asked saucily, sauntering over to eye the other men in a very bold manner. "And who are your fine friends, guardian dear?"

  The dark-haired man and the M.P. raised brows. The glittering blonde just grinned.

  "The fine golden-top is your host the Marquess of Arden, heir to Belcraven," said Miles. "You should kneel and kiss his aristocratic, high-instepped feet. The black-top is Major Hal Beaumont, late of the 10th. You should kiss his feet, too, for he's a war hero. The shrimp of the group is not to be ignored, either, being one of our nation's elected lawmakers. Though they are all smiling, you should note that the creatures have very sharp teeth. I wouldn't recommend playing with them."

  Felicity was jolted by that reminder of the dance at Foy. And of what had followed in her bedroom...

  She pushed it back and let her gaze sweep the company. "If you insist in trapping me here in boredom, my grim guardian, you must accept the consequences." Sliding deeper into the character of wanton Joy, she swayed over to the marquess, put her hand on his broad chest, and looked up into clear, blue eyes. "Lord Arden, I'm sure you have something here to alleviate my boredom."

  She emphasized the word here with a little dance of her fingers.

  His lips twitched. "If I don't, I will be devastated, Miss Monahan. What entertains you most?"

  All the men were just in from a day in the saddle
, and Felicity was surrounded by sweat and the smell of leather and horses. She'd lived her life with this smell, yet now it dizzied her senses.

  Which certainly helped her to play her part.

  She walked her fingers up his chest a little. "Many things entertain me, my lord, but riding especially. I hear you have magnificent equipment—for riding."

  "Truly magnificent," he replied, sharp-edged amusement in his eyes. He captured her hand, raising it for a kiss that managed to be entirely improper. "Someday," he murmured softly, "if you're a very good girl, I might let you explore my—stables."

  Someone stifled a laugh, and Felicity realized Miles had spoken nothing but the truth. These men were more than she could handle. Faith, and it wasn't surprising. Most of her experience in these matters had been with her amiable neighbors and Rupert Dunsmore!

  It wasn't in her nature, however, to back down in front of an audience. And anyway, she'd chosen the marquess as her target because his wife was standing by. He must be safe.

  Mustn't he?

  She didn't pull her hand free. In fact, she moved an inch closer. "Oh, but I'm very experienced around stables, my lord. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. But are you claiming yours will be more impressive than any I have ever seen?"

  He grinned, actually showing sharp white teeth. "That depends on whether you've seen Miles's, my dear. His definitely beat mine in size, and his skill and expertise in these matters cast mine in total shadow."

  She gasped. A hand on her arm pulled her away. "Felicity," said Miles, "I warned you not to play with the animals."

  "I'll play with whom I damn well please!" she snapped, twitching out of his hold even as she thanked heavens he'd rescued her.

  "No, you will not," he said, all grim guardian.

  "And I'll go where I want, when I want! In fact, now I'm fed and rested, I think I'll leave."

  "The devil you will. You're a prisoner, remember?" Seizing her wrist, Miles hauled her across the hall to the library. "What were you doing in here? Plotting mischief, I'm sure."

  "Mischief! I'll have you know—What the devil are you doing?"

  He'd pushed her into a solid oak chair, the kind with built-in steps that took two men to lift. "Keeping you out of harm's way while I have a bath. Lucien, get me something to tie her."

  Felicity heard a sound from Beth, but it was cut off. She knew this was all for show, but she was quivering with genuine fury. "Don't you dare! I'll have the law on you. I'll accuse every last one of you of kidnapping, unlawful confinement..."

  The marquess had taken off his cravat and cut it into strips with his pocket knife. Miles tied her wrists to the armrest. "There, that should confine you. And it's not unlawful. I'm your guardian."

  "That cannot license you to be my jailer!"

  "It can when you not only threaten to run away, but do your damndest to seduce your hostess's husband!"

  Not sure where acting ended and reality began, but hating the feeling of being bound again, Felicity glared into his eyes. "Jealous, are you? Would you rather I tried to seduce you? "

  Stephen Ball moved between them. "If you're set on seduction, my dear, try me. I'm the only one here unentangled." His heavy-lidded eyes were surprisingly kind.

  "Promise to help me be free of him, Sir Stephen, and I'll come to your room tonight."

  "Ah, no. No strings attached. I have no taste for sex in the marketplace."

  It was getting out of hand.

  Then Gardeen appeared and leaped up into Felicity's lap.

  As if unlocked from a spell, Beth came forward to untie the knots. "Enough of this foolishness. You have no intention of running off tonight, do you, Felicity?"

  "Don't I?" asked Felicity, rubbing her wrists, though the cloth had scarcely made a mark.

  "Not unless you've turned mad. It's growing dark, you have no money, and if you don't give your word I'll tie you up again."

  Felicity scowled at her, but felt able to toss her head again in rebellion. "Oh, very well. And," she added, cuddling Gardeen, who had once again appeared in the nick of time, "I had no real intention of seducing your husband, Lady Arden."

  "Good," said Beth amiably, "or I'd lock you up myself. If, that is, I thought you had the slightest chance of succeeding. And Blanche has an interest in Hal, which she's quite capable of defending. If you wish to amuse yourself with flirtation, for safety's sake, restrict yourself to Stephen and Miles."

  "But one won't be bought and the other is supposed to protect me from such naughtiness." Felicity sauntered over to Miles and dangled the strips of cloth. "Are you going to amuse me, guardian dear?"

  He snatched the rags and pushed her away. "Take up watercolors or something. I'm up to be rid of my dirt, and I suggest you prepare for dinner, too."

  Since the whole company was dispersing, Felicity obeyed, nerves still jangling from that performance. It perhaps wasn't strange that she could act the rebel, but she was surprised at her ability to play the seductress. It had felt quite natural, as it had when she'd played the part of wanton Joy.

  She was clearly the type of woman to be both willful and wicked in the right circumstances.

  Chapter 17

  Over a rollicking meal, with everyone in high spirits, Felicity settled into her role, frequently causing Miles to wince. The other men were inclined to play to her part, but despite Miles's earlier warning she felt completely safe.

  The marquess, however, raised one concern. "I've invited a bunch of fellows over on Sunday for a bit of sport and dinner. Felicity's presence makes things a little awkward."

  "Why?" asked Miles. "We're not trying to keep her hidden."

  "I was thinking of her reputation."

  "Felicity acts the part of oppressed hoyden so well that no one will think she's here of her own will."

  "There's no acting to it, Miles Cavanagh!" Felicity declared.

  "Not to the hoyden part," he replied.

  She scowled at him most realistically. "I'll have you know that I am only a hoyden in so far as I object to men ruling my every thought and action!"

  "Sure, and isn't that the definition of a hoyden?"

  "Then I am proud to be one!"

  Beth and Blanche applauded, and the men exchanged long-suffering looks. A maid was leaving the room with dirty dishes, and her rigid back fairly shouted disapproval of the wild Irish miss.

  "I don't think the servants approve as much as you, Beth," Felicity said with a grin.

  "Don't be so sure that I entirely approve. A determination to assert rights does not excuse bad manners. However, these servants are the higher echelons." She smiled at the butler, who was supervising the meal. "They'll not tattle of our affairs, will they, Corser?"

  "Assuredly not, my lady."

  "If we hold this party, however, we'll have to use some of the newer servants. We cannot be as sure of them."

  "How true, my dear," said Lucien with a wink. "An unfortunate necessity."

  Felicity caught the meaning that if they wanted her presence as rebellious prisoner to be known throughout the area, the party would be an excellent means.

  "Most of the newer staff are employed outside the house, however," Lucien added.

  Felicity almost grinned at the double-edged conversation. That meant she must go outside and be seen, preferably sulking.

  "If you think to keep me trapped inside," she said, "think again!"

  Miles sighed in a long-suffering manner. "I suppose we must allow you a few walks in the garden. Escorted, of course."

  Felicity tossed her head. "Escorted by my oppressor? Faith but it's a bitter cup." Inside, however, she was wondering if the firestorms between them could be controlled if they spent time alone together, even in the open air.

  Perhaps Miles thought the same thing. He looked at the other men. "I trust you three as guards. We can take turns."

  "Blanche and I are happy to play escort, too," said Beth.

  Blanche agreed. "It will give us more opportunity to enlighten the poo
r child as to her rights and responsibilities as a woman."

  "Heaven help us all," muttered Miles.

  "'Tis fine for you, Miles Cavanagh," Felicity retorted. "You don't have to read Mary Wollstonecraft!"

  Beth rapped on the table. "Attention, please. We haven't discussed the possible dangers of this party. One day, Felicity may want to take a respectable position in society. We all know that having spent days or even weeks here as a young, unmarried woman could be a cloud over her, and the party will make it known to many."

  Felicity shrugged. "Once I'm married to Rupert, it won't matter a jot."

  "Since you won't be marrying him..." Miles said.

  Felicity rolled her eyes.

  Beth intervened. "Don't burn your bridges, my dear. One day, you may well want to marry into a family where dignity and propriety is important."

  "Gracious!" declared Felicity impudently, "I can't think that I've ever met anyone with a claim to dignity and propriety."

  "On behalf of the future Duke and Duchess of Belcraven," said Lucien mildly, "I'll ignore that remark."

  Felicity rested her chin on her hands and smiled at him. "But, my dear marquess, when one considers the indignity and impropriety of your English royalty, you have to admit that mere dukes should not claim to be higher than they."

  "Treason as well," said Miles with a sigh. "Don't you have a damp and dismal dungeon to clap her in?"

  "I'm afraid my ancestors abandoned their castle some centuries ago," said Lucien. "But it seems Miss Monahan has no care to the possible muddying of her reputation. So?"

  Blanche interrupted at that point. "The problem here is not Felicity, but me. Without my presence, this house would be tolerably respectable, even if it is a hunting box. I have to confess that it wouldn't be a great sacrifice to return to civilization."

  "You won't escape bucolic pleasure so easily, my dear!" Beth declared. "If there's any damage from your presence, it's already done."

  "If you would just marry me," Hal pointed out, "such issues would not arise."