From Wallflower to Countess

by Janice Preston

  He was tempted—oh, so tempted—to vent his anger on to her: anger for deceiving him for all these years.

  It is hardly her fault you believed what you did. You could have simply asked her.

  I was a child!

  Not so much a child at seventeen. And you have long been a man.

  Even as he turned, he wasn’t certain what words would come out of his mouth: angry words to lash out and hurt, or conciliatory words to heal?

  And there was Felicity, in his path, amber eyes anxious and searching, hands on his chest.

  ‘Think.’

  The word was whispered so softly he barely heard it, but it was powerful enough to stay him for that split second whilst his rational mind fought with his gut emotions. Rationality won. He crossed the room and, in the end, no words were needed as he wrapped his arms around his mother and held her, feeling the sobs that shook her frail frame and blinking back the moisture in his own eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Early February 1812

  They arrived in London on a grey February afternoon. Their visit would be brief, because of Felicity’s condition.

  ‘I confess I am disappointed we shall miss most of the Season,’ Felicity said to Richard, lounging on the seat next to her, booted feet propped on the opposite seat. ‘I had hoped to attend Olivia’s coming-out ball.’

  ‘Maybe we will still be here. Knowing Leo, he will ensure his daughter’s ball is one of the first, and the best. Then he will sit back and enjoy watching the rest of the ton in their attempts to emulate his opulence.’

  Felicity laughed. ‘I can just see him “coming the duke”, as Papa used to say.’

  ‘You have changed, Felicity.’ Richard lowered his feet to the floor and swivelled sideways to face her. Her pulse leapt, as it always did when he turned those velvety brown eyes on her. ‘Five months ago, you would not have given a fig that you might miss the ball of the Season. Now...’ he studied her ‘...now you have become a stylish society lady.’

  ‘Thanks to Yvette.’

  Richard cocked a brow. ‘You give Yvette too much credit. You have developed confidence I never thought to see in you, but I believe you would have changed anyway. I hesitate to criticize your mother, but since you ceased to be influenced by her shallow perception of what is important in life, you have bloomed.’ Gentle fingers drifted down her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. ‘You are as lovely on the outside as you always have been on the inside.’

  Rendered awkward by his praise, Felicity stared out of the window.

  ‘Do not blush and turn aside, Felicity. Hold your head high. Be proud of who you are and what you have achieved.’

  ‘Achieved? I have achieved nothing.’

  ‘What about the difference you have made to all those children at Westfield? How many young women in your position concern themselves in the plight of orphans? To my shame, I never thought of such people either, until I met you. So you have changed my attitude too.’

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Even through the fine kid of her glove, she could feel the heat of his mouth and, before she could think better of it, she leaned over and kissed him. In an instant, he clasped her to his chest and took possession of her mouth, his lips working their magic until she was lying prone on the seat, panting, with Richard atop her, his arousal pressed against her thigh.

  ‘That,’ he said, chest heaving, ‘was most scandalous behaviour from a society lady, if I might say so, Lady Stanton. Mayhap I should rethink my appraisal of your character to that of an abandoned hussy.’ He kissed her soundly. ‘You once told me you were glad you married me. I shall return the compliment, and say I am very glad I married you. I think we suit very well.’

  He sat up and rearranged his neckcloth, gazing out at the passing sights.

  Still no words of love. Felicity tamped down her disappointment.

  Since the dowager’s confession, Richard and his mother had grown closer, step by faltering step. Felicity had found it hard to believe two people could drift so far apart over words they dared not say. She had vowed not to let unspoken words strangle her relationship with Richard in the same way. But it was easy to make that vow, much harder to put it into practice as, night after night, Richard made love to her and then left her bed.

  The words ‘I love you’ died unspoken on her lips many times.

  Was it so very important he should love her? He had said he was glad he had married her. Was that not enough?

  She knew the answer before she finished formulating the question. No. It was not enough. She must live with it, but she would never stop hoping for more. Fear and doubt still gnawed at her confidence. What if he grew bored? She was under no illusions: she would be left to her own devices whilst he pursued his many other interests.

  Loneliness loomed.

  * * *

  ‘What brings you to town this early, Stan?’ Leo hailed Richard from a chair by the window of White’s the following day.

  ‘I might ask you the same, Duke,’ Richard replied as they shook hands.

  ‘Cecily insisted Olivia needs a hundred fittings before her ball,’ Leo said, with barely concealed disgust. ‘We’ve only been in town a couple of days and I’ve already had my fill of it. What’s a man to do?’

  ‘Hide in his club and leave the women to it?’

  ‘Now why did I not think of that? And you?’

  ‘Oh, Felicity was keen to visit that school of hers, and I need to visit Barker’s. I’ve ordered a phaeton for Felicity from them and I want to inspect it before it’s delivered. I’m also looking for a well-schooled pair, if you should hear of any. She’s become quite skilled with the ribbons.’

  ‘I’ll keep an ear open. How is Felicity, by the by?’

  Richard felt a wide smile split his face. Leo raised a brow.

  ‘We weren’t going to tell anyone yet but, as you were there at the conception of our marriage, I think it only right—’

  ‘Hold hard, Stan. There are some things a man has to draw the line at. I point-blank refuse to be present at the conception of your heir.’

  Richard stared, momentarily taken aback, then guffawed.

  Leo beamed. ‘I take it congratulations are in order? Felicity is well?’

  ‘She’s very well, but she tires easily so we won’t stay in town long. Besides, I cannot be away from Fernley for too long. I’ve had to dismiss my bailiff.’ Richard told Leo about his accident on the bridge and his subsequent discovery that Elliott had been siphoning funds from the estate by putting forged invoices through the accounts. ‘I believed Elliott to be trustworthy—he’s been with me years—but I won’t make the same mistake with the new man.’

  * * *

  Felicity, meanwhile, had penned a note to Lady Brierley, informing her of their arrival in town. The footman sent to deliver the note returned with an invitation to take tea that afternoon. Harriet was her usual charming self, entertaining Felicity with the latest gossip. They arranged to visit Westfield together the following day.

  The tea tray had been removed, and Felicity rose to her feet, saying, ‘I fear I am monopolizing your time, dear Harriet. I must...’

  The walls appeared to bulge and then recede, and Harriet’s voice came as though from a great distance: ‘Felicity? What is wrong?’

  ‘I...I...’ Felicity’s legs turned to jelly. A hand gripped her elbow and she was eased back on to the sofa. She hauled in a deep breath, and the room steadied before her eyes. ‘Oh, goodness, I am so sorry, Harriet. Might I take a few moments to compose myself?’

  Harriet chafed Felicity’s hand. ‘You may take as long as you like, my dear. There, you have some colour back in your cheeks. Did you feel faint?’

  Harriet skimmed Felicity’s body. ‘Ah,’ she said.

  Felicity sighed at the
speculation embodied in that simple utterance. ‘I stood up too quickly. It happens from time to time. Please promise me you will not tell anyone.’

  ‘That you are with child?’

  Felicity nodded. ‘Richard and I agreed to keep the news secret until we return to Fernley. I long to attend Lady Olivia Beauchamp’s come-out ball—the duke was my guardian, you know, and I have known Olivia all her life—but I cannot bear being an object of scrutiny. The sticklers would be alert for the merest hint that I should already be retired from society.’

  ‘Your secret is safe, dear. Please, stay until you are completely recovered. Now, tell me all about your first winter at Fernley Park.’

  One story led to another and, eventually, Felicity found herself telling Harriet about Beanie, and how Richard had gone to Bristol to find her, and bring her home. Her voice faltered as she recalled Emma’s diary and, before she knew what she was doing, she had confided in Harriet about Emma, her seduction, and her suicide. Instinct told her she could trust the other woman, and it was a great relief to share her past with another female.

  ‘I remember your sister—such a beautiful young woman. We attended several of the same house parties in the summer of...let me see...was it ’02? Or ’03?’

  ‘’02,’ Felicity said. ‘She was eighteen and was presented that spring.’

  ‘Such a tragic story. Forgive me, but I thought at the time that some of those gatherings were unsuitable for such an innocent. In a way, I cannot be surprised at such an unhappy ending. Do you know who the scoundrel was?’

  ‘No. She referred to him in her diary as “M”. They first met at a house party in Hertfordshire but it seems they met at other parties too. I did not know she was with child until I read her diary. I always believed she had been driven to suicide by grief because her lover abandoned her.’

  I have allowed that belief to overshadow so much of my life.

  ‘I must go, Harriet.’

  It is time to make amends to Richard for my suspicions and my stubbornness.

  Richard was kind, attentive and the most wonderful lover she could ever have imagined. She was in love with him, but did he love her in return? Or was their marriage still a novelty, to hold his attention until another woman caught his eye?

  Unrequited love.

  It was time to take the risk. It was time to say those words.

  I love you.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  ‘What do you say, Stan? Can you bear to leave Felicity to fend for herself for a week or so?’

  Richard leaned forward and topped up Leo’s wine glass. The duke had called round with the news of a driving pair for sale by a neighbour of his cousin, who lived in Buckinghamshire.

  ‘They should be perfect for Felicity; Rockbeare’s cattle are always beautifully schooled.’

  ‘It sounds too good an opportunity to miss,’ Richard said.

  ‘And the hunting in the area is excellent,’ Leo added persuasively.

  Richard sat back, considering the implications of being out of town for several days. The purchase was to be a surprise for Felicity, hence the cover of going hunting. He pictured her amber eyes lighting up and her joyous smile at having her own phaeton and pair. He would miss her, though.

  ‘Why the hesitation?’ Leo said. ‘Can’t stomach leaving Felicity for so long? I never thought to see you so in thrall, Stan. I thought you and I were as cynical as each other about love and matters of the heart.’

  Richard forced a laugh. He had always believed that too. Lately, though...

  ‘Love? I merely wish to keep Felicity happy and contented for the baby’s sake.’

  Disingenuous, perhaps, but he was in no mood to become embroiled in a discussion about love.

  ‘Good afternoon, your Grace. You are well, I hope?’

  Both men leapt to their feet at Felicity’s words, Richard’s stomach hollowing. Did she overhear? Her expression revealed nothing other than pleasure as she greeted Leo.

  ‘I am very well, my dear,’ Leo said as he sauntered over to Felicity and kissed her cheek. ‘As are you, I hear.’

  ‘I hope you do not object, sweetheart, but I told Leo our news yesterday.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Felicity smiled at Leo.

  ‘Have you had a pleasant afternoon?’ Richard asked as Felicity settled on the sofa and he and Leo returned to their chairs.

  ‘Most enjoyable, thank you. I took tea with Lady Brierley, and we have arranged to visit Westfield tomorrow.’

  Harriet? Richard could only hope she remained discreet. It would seem his wife and his former mistress were fast becoming friends. There was nothing to be gained now from trying to keep them apart. Why had he not admitted the truth to Felicity right from the start, as Harriet had advised? But at least no one else was aware of their connection. Leo, who knew most goings-on, had not batted an eye when Felicity spoke of Harriet.

  ‘I am glad you will have some company whilst I am out of town.’ At Felicity’s look of enquiry, he continued: ‘I’m going into Buckinghamshire, hunting, with Leo and one or two others.’

  ‘Oh.’ Felicity hid her disappointment well, but there was a definite tinge of it in her tone. ‘Well, I shall miss you, of course, but you will enjoy the change, I make no doubt. Will your ribs—?’

  ‘They will be fine.’ An image arose of Felicity riding him the night before, after ministering to him with skilful fingers and lips. He had not protested. She had become quite the seductress whilst his ribs had been mending, and he had thoroughly enjoyed her attentions. A scorching glance from those amber eyes, and a pinkish tinge to her cheeks, told him that she was thinking the same. He would make it up to her tonight. His loins tightened at the thought and he propped one ankle on the opposite knee to conceal his arousal.

  ‘I am pleased to hear it,’ Felicity replied, dropping her eyes demurely to her lap as the tip of her tongue stroked her upper lip.

  Little minx!

  ‘Ahem.’ Leo rose smoothly to his feet, voice bubbling with amusement. ‘This is not the level of deference a duke expects from his associates, my dears. I am feeling decidedly de trop. I shall say my adieux, and I will see you first thing in the morning, Stan. Don’t be late.’

  * * *

  As Leo left the room, Felicity said, ‘Are your ribs completely healed, Richard?’

  ‘I should hardly arrange to go hunting if they were not.’

  Such an innocent tone. Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Last night?’ He had claimed the soreness had returned, blaming the journey to town.

  He shrugged. ‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself.’ His voice quivered as he bit back his grin, his brown eyes brimming with laughter. ‘I had no wish to spoil—’

  ‘Oh, you...you...’

  He cocked a brow. ‘Yes? Are you struggling to articulate your thoughts, my sweet?’

  Felicity relaxed into the sofa, draping one arm along the back. ‘Come here, Husband.’

  Richard sucked in one cheek. ‘I detect some sorcery at work but...is it retribution on her mind...or seduction? Hmmmm, only one way to find out.’

  He rose with the lithe grace of a big cat, and prowled towards the sofa, taking his time. Her heart leapt at the intent in his dark, hooded eyes, then lurched into a mad gallop. Heavens, what had she started?

  ‘The servants!’

  Richard swerved to the door. He opened it, stuck his head out and said, ‘No one, under any circumstances, is to disturb us.’ He shut the door and turned to face Felicity. ‘Now—’ his voice was at its silkiest ‘—where were we?’

  His breeches revealed the extent of his arousal and Felicity’s breath all but seized at the sight of her powerful, handsome husband.

  Mine! At least... No! She batted the unhelpful and unwelcome doubt away as she rose to meet him and took him
in her arms, tilting her face as his lips lowered to take hers.

  * * *

  Sometime later, sprawled on the sofa, cosily wrapped in Richard’s arms as he dozed, her treacherous mind bombarded her again with doubts. She had heard Cousin Leo’s comment about love and matters of the heart earlier, and she had paused to hear Richard’s reaction. His words had stung, particularly after her earlier resolve. How could she say those words to him now?

  Carefully, she moved her head and she studied his face: at peace with his world, dark lashes feathering his cheeks, brown hair dishevelled, sensual lips relaxed and slightly apart as his breath huffed in the quiet of the room.

  Had he spoken the truth of what was in his heart? Was it likely he would have admitted he loved her when the duke’s unwavering cynicism about love was common knowledge?

  No. She did not believe he would, but still she did not quite have the courage to open her heart to him.

  * * *

  The following day, Felicity and Harriet visited Westfield. Felicity’s childhood friend Jane Whittaker greeted them warmly, and they spent a pleasant afternoon helping the children with their lessons, discussing ideas both to raise money and to encourage more employers to take apprentices.

  On the journey home, Felicity reflected on how pleasant it was to have a friend such as Harriet. Most other ladies of her acquaintance thought her eccentric for even bothering with the orphans. Jane also liked Harriet and the feeling appeared mutual. For the first time in her adult life, Felicity began to feel like she belonged.

  ‘Are you and Lord Stanton going out tonight?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘No. I did not tell you, did I? He has gone out of town for a few days, with the duke. They are staying with the duke’s cousin, in Buckinghamshire.’

  ‘In that case, would you care to dine with me this evening, if you are not too weary? And, if you should care to join me, I intend to go to Cheapside tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Thank you, Harriet. I am delighted to accept both invitations.’

  * * *

  The note, clearly scribbled in haste, was delivered to Felicity at breakfast the following morning.