by Heather Boyd
The countess heaved a relieved sigh. “And my poor Freddie?”
Freddie was the second son, the spare to the earldom of Templeton. “He is somewhat further afield, the Newberry being assigned to the southern oceans at present. I have not met with him or his ship in recent years.”
The countess nibbled her bottom lip and stared at her plate, not even looking up when a servant moved to place a napkin in her lap. She said not a word of thanks as the man moved on to attend to him in a similar fashion. The countess was miles away, no doubt worrying unnecessarily about her grown children as all mothers were prone to do.
“Laurence was well when I saw him Thursday last.”
“I am glad to know my baby is under your protection,” she said. “He is too gentle to be at war, but he could not be stopped.”
That so-called baby had dispatched dozens of French during his career, but Felix did not correct the countess at the dinner table. His tongue burned to break the silence though. “Newberry Park exceeds young Laurence’s description by a fair margin, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She sighed deeply and took a sip of her wine.
Felix noticed her animation at seeing him had left with the talk of her sons. Sally had hinted her mother was prone to fits of melancholy once, but he had thought it an idle exaggeration of a daughter frustrated by the confines of her life. However, judging by the countess’s current expression, he could easily believe Lady Templeton a troubled soul.
Uncertain of what to do about it, or if he should try to cheer her up, he glanced around at the other guests as the first course was served. What could he say to lift Lady Templeton out of her mopes?
The duke stared, a frown on his face as he watched his daughter-in-law fiddle with her wineglass. Templeton was engaged in conversation with Lady Ellicott and never noticed his wife’s low mood.
Sally was seated beside Ellicott, her suitor, and spoke only with him. Lady Duckworth was across the table and stared pointedly, clearly a hostile presence toward him. He noticed how few young men sat down to dinner that night. For a family of this size, the lack of men was telling of their profession. He turned his attention back to Sally’s mother. “It must be a difficult task to manage an estate of this size with the younger men away at war.”
The countess lifted her chin proudly. “We manage without them. My girls have shouldered the responsibilities well, and Newberry thrives.”
“So the Earl of Rothwell mentioned with the greatest respect the last time I spoke with him.” He smiled at the countess’s praise for her daughters’ achievements and the ever-ready spark of Ford pride she displayed. “I doubt I would do half as well when I come ashore. I know so little of the land and homes that it would be safer for all concerned if I kept only an apartment in Town,” he said, laughing. “And hardly any staff.”
That caught her interest immediately. “You have been at sea so long.”
“Needs must, my lady.” He nodded. “I followed my father to sea when I was but thirteen years old if you recall.”
“I do remember your mentioning that.” The countess sighed, pressing her hand to her breast. “You must have broken your poor mother’s heart.”
He bowed his head. “I did, to my shame, and I can never make it up to her. She passed away while I was at sea a year after I earned the rank of captain.”
“Oh, I had not heard.” The countess gave his hand a motherly squeeze. “My eldest could not wait for glory and left me at only eleven to join the navy, but I had Freddie and Laurence still at home then and that comforted me.”
He glanced across the table at the unknown young woman. He judged her about twenty years, which would definitely make her the right age to be Laurence’s twin. “And you have your daughters too, do not forget them.”
Her face lit up as he had hoped, and she smiled fondly at the young woman across the table, claiming her as her own child. “They are beauties, are they not? Sally and Louisa are my comfort and my joy. I suppose you have a wife of your own now. A sweetheart?”
He shook his head. “Who would have me?”
“I might be old, but I am not blind.” She glanced around the table, her eyes assessing those present. “You have aged remarkably well for a man already possessed with good looks in your earlier days. A great many women would see much in you that they would want if you were to offer encouragement.”
He laughed at that. “With only a brother for my connections and a passing distinction as a captain. Your praise is quite far off the mark indeed.”
“Scoff all you like, but I like what I see and that is all that matters.” She grinned and with a toss of her head looked him over. “We never had much of a chance to speak candidly before, and I do not mean to pry, but you mentioned a brother? You must miss each other terribly as my children do.”
“I have a brother.” A useless, worthless gambler. He had never been close to his family, save for loving his mother. Some of his favorite moments with the Fords had been time spent with the countess although that time had been brief. “But we have been estranged since I joined the navy.”
The countess frowned at that. “Perhaps when the war is over, you will have a chance to begin again. I could not be without my family about me.”
He smiled but doubted he would ever want to see his brother very much. By all accounts, Neville had bled his mother dry of funds while he and his father had been away at sea earning a living to support them. He could never forgive Neville for gambling away everything he had scraped together in the first years of his service, or for leaving their mother at the mercy of charity as she faded away from loneliness and despair. If he ever saw his brother again, he would probably kick him all the way to the next county or do worse if no one stopped him.
However, there was no point in burdening the countess with his sad history when he wanted to lift her spirits. “Perhaps we will.”
They talked of London’s amusements and of inconsequential matters until she said, “You mentioned property earlier, sir. Do you own very much in London?”
“None at all.” He sighed as she struck upon another dream that would go unfulfilled. “I have been at sea too long to have a home and have never had the opportunity to settle in one place for long.”
“I highly recommend Essex. There is no better place.” Her gaze drifted down the table and a frown pulled at her brow. “All the best families make their home here.”
He followed the direction of her gaze, noticing she watched Sally and Ellicott as they chatted. There was an undeniable intimacy between them. He was riveted when Ellicott stroked his finger along the back of Sally’s gloved hand where it rested on the edge of the table.
Felix did not like the brazen flirtation in front of her family, and he forced his attention back to his dining companion. “I am unfamiliar with the Ellicott holdings. Are they local landowners?”
“No, unfortunately. When they marry, he will take my daughter away to Shropshire and I will likely not see her more than once a year.” The countess whispered the last very, very quietly, for his ears alone he suspected.
Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he took a moment to quiet his disappointment. “They are to be married?”
“I should not have said anything, especially not to you before the announcement is made. It is a private agreement and will be announced on my husband’s return from London in a week’s time. Before the month is out, I expect her gone from me too.”
He could understand her low mood a little more than perhaps he should. He had felt something similar when he had been dragged away from Sally six years ago, and still did.
At times he had thought their estrangement a blessing for her though. Those moments when he had been required to pen letters home to the family and spouses of fallen officers had brought into clarity how it would have been for Sally to receive such a letter at his eventual demise.
He had not wanted to hurt her. Not any more than he apparently had.
The object of his t
houghts suddenly met his gaze. They stared at each other along the table, and the pull of attraction caught him unexpectedly. He steadied his balance on the table edge, determined to control his feelings. Sally was beyond him. She would be another man’s wife soon.
And yet he wanted her with a fierceness that had never abated.
He wrenched his gaze away, cursing under his breath. “I doubt your daughter would ever allow an estrangement to happen, my lady. She is dedicated to her family, as all Fords are known to be.”
“That is true.” The countess sighed softly. “She is so strong a character, so much braver than me. I could not be prouder of the choices she has made for her life.”
His contentment in the evening dimmed. Of course Ellicott would be popular with Lady Templeton. He was as rich as Rutherford and almost as titled. Sally would remain a lady and not an inferior Mrs. Hastings, as she would have become upon their marriage. “An excellent connection,” he murmured with an agreement he did not feel.
“Oh, but you must think it odd to be talking of this now.” The lady smiled quickly. “Forgive a mother’s vanity that her daughter will have a home of her own.”
“There is nothing to forgive you for, my lady. I cannot say the same for my own behavior.” Felix glanced at the Duke of Rutherford. The old man was watching his granddaughter with a puzzled expression on his face. “She seems happy, and that is all that matters, is it not?”
Lady Templeton nodded. “It is what Sally wants, and so we let her have her way. What better outcome is there for a woman but to make a respectable match?”
There was love.
Sally might have been wild with him, but he had not thought her indiscriminant in her passion at that time. He had thought they had been falling deeply in love and that the reason they had behaved so shamelessly together was a binding connection. Sally would only have agreed to marry Ellicott if she loved the man. Which meant she could not possibly love Felix anymore. Not even a little.
He had to give her up or he would only be torturing himself needlessly. When the women excused themselves for tea in the drawing room, Felix escaped to the terrace to rage in private under the stars.
Chapter Seven
Sally slipped from the house, heart pounding with panic, and ran far into the garden and away from her family and guests.
Panic. Shock. Anger. Hunger. Her skin practically vibrated with sensations she had thought she had given up.
Felix was at Newberry, not fifty yards away. Smiling and laughing as if he had not a care in the world, as if the heart he had shattered six years ago did not matter in the slightest.
She kept running.
He was supposed to be aboard his ship, not breathing the same air she did. His precious Selfridge, the command and promotion he had valued more than her love. She did not know how he had wrangled an invitation to Newberry Park, but she would ensure it was the last one the blackguard ever received. Bollocks!
And if her reaction to seeing him again after so long was any indication, she might not recover at all. She could not seem to catch her breath, and suffering through the interminable meal with her family around them had been almost beyond her capability.
Her eyes had been drawn to him all through dinner, though he barely looked her way again after being presented to her. He had charmed her mother, she could tell, which annoyed her to the ends of the earth and back again. Her mother was supposed to despise him, as was all of her family, for the fool he had made of her.
She did not want Felix to be here.
She stopped at her favorite place, a small pond full of fishes that no one else came to, and lifted her knuckle to her mouth. She bit down on the scream she wanted to let out as a seafaring curse filled her mind. She savaged her finger until it ached and then let it go. “Damn you, Felix.”
All she had wanted, for the rest of her life, was to forget him.
“It is lovely to see you too,” he remarked from the darkness.
She whipped around, searching the shadows of the gardens, attempting to locate where he stood.
Felix came forward slowly, large and dangerous as he skirted the pond. Her pounding heart probably gave her away and her cheeks grew hot as he neared. Could he not have changed? A limp, a scar to mar that handsome face? Was it too much to ask that he be as wounded on the outside as she was within?
For a moment she wavered between running toward him or away. Not that she was afraid of him, but what he represented was hazardous to her carefully made plans for a proper marriage. “What are you doing?”
“Strolling the decks of Newberry Park beneath the stars and asking myself the very same thing.” His deep voice rumbled over her, and she shivered.
She had thought she had forgotten that voice, but when he had spoken behind her in the white drawing room, she had known who it was without turning around. She had desperately wished to be wrong.
“I mean what are you doing at Newberry.” Sally turned away in an effort to gather her scattered wits. She hated him. She truly did for the mockery he had made of her young love. “Are you looking for a way to advance to admiral now?”
He growled, a dark and dangerous warning. Something he had never done around her as a young man. “I have never wanted the distinction because it means playing games with people’s lives the way your father has with mine.”
She spun about and advanced on him, doing little to hide her fury. “Do not say a word against my family!”
“Against your family, no, but against the admiral I will say what I like to you. I will not pretend he did not ruin my life.”
“Ruin your life? That is rich, coming from you,” she shouted. “You were the one who made the fool of me, not him. You ruined me, or have you forgotten?”
“I have not forgotten. How could I?” He stopped a foot away and drew in a deep breath.
In the dark she was reminded of their last night together, and her knees went weak. “Do not come any closer, or, or…”
“I was here first,” he complained, and then he looked her up and down. “I have it on good authority from several reliable sources you still want me dead, but it seems you forgot to bring a sword with which to run me through. So sorry the French could not oblige you during battle, but I will wait if you would like to arm yourself now.”
She took a pace back. “I never expected to see you again.”
“Neither did I.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “If you are going to kill me, please start now.”
She took another step back. “I hate you.”
“So I gathered.” He glanced around. “Well, if you are not ready to commit murder upon me, you should go back inside before your mother or sister comes looking for you.”
“Do not dare tell me what to do,” Sally hissed, furious that he appeared so untouched by her presence. “The days when your good opinion means something have long since passed.”
He smiled and took a pace toward her. “I see you have nurtured your temper nicely.”
“Oh, shut up and wipe that bloody smirk off your face.” Sally gritted her teeth at the language she had used. She should not lose her temper with him so much that the thoughts in her head slipped out. In a moderate tone she continued, “You were always too certain of your appeal.”
“I am angry with you too.” He cocked his head to the side but kept a distance. “How could you think I could take you to bed and care so little for your future happiness?”
Oh, this was too much. She threw up her hands. “You would take anyone to bed if they helped advance your cause or career, and we both know it.”
He laughed then, full and heartily, as if she had told the most outrageous joke he had ever heard. “And who do you think might have held more sway over my career than your own blessed family?”
“Lady Heathcote. Lady Windermere now,” she ground out. What man did not know the name of whom he was consorting with? “Or do you not care that she is a married woman?”
Felix advanced on her
suddenly until he towered over her. “Say one word against my friend and you will regret it.”
She blinked at the venom in his voice. “Everyone knows you call on her and why.”
“Esme had a great number of acquaintances in London, and before her marriage received many callers, your grandfather included when he was younger and spry.” He sighed. “Are you suggesting she entertained them all just to advance my career? What utter rubbish.”
She shook her head quickly. Her complaints were only against Felix. “I never meant to disparage her reputation.”
“Well, I know for a fact thanks to her last letter that she is deliriously happy being married to Windermere.”
“She wrote to you?” Sally had heard enough. “One of your many letters from paramours, I am sure.”
She spun on her heel, but Felix wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and tugged her to his side. “There is no need to be jealous, sweetheart.”
Fury spun round and round her head. “I am not jealous, you grasping libertine.”
His fingers flexed around her arm. “Esme last wrote to give me her new directions and to share the news she was expecting a babe. Who the devil has been filling your head with nonsense about Esme anyway? I am hardly ever on land to have done as much as you have already claimed.”
“My connections in society keep me well informed.” She wrenched her arm from his grip but continued to feel where he had held her.
He swore roundly, showing little care that his coarse words were offensive to a proper lady’s ears. “I hate to burst your delusions, but your so-called friends are damned liars.” Felix shook his head. “About so many things that do not matter to anyone but your father.”
Her father was many things, but she could not believe he would deliberately mislead her. He protected her and had rebuilt her tattered trust. “Leave my father out of this.”