Felicia

by Leonora Blythe

  “My dear Ian, I have been finished these last five minutes,” Dr. Ross laughed. “We have been sitting in silence ever since.”

  Lord Umber had the grace to look sheepish. “Do excuse my apparent rudeness, it was not intended. I…I was planning a diversion for my mother to help her over Miss Richards’ departure.”

  “I understand,” Dr. Ross said gently. “And please call on me if I can help.” He stood up and strolled out of the room, waving casually to a few acquaintances.

  Lord Umber followed and, calling for his carriage, was soon on his way to Upper Grosvenor Street.

  It was quite apparent that his second visit to Lady Ormstead’s was going to be more successful. For no sooner had his carriage come to rest outside the house, than the front door swung open and an immaculately dressed footman made his appearance. Lord Umber was hard put to recognize the lackey from his earlier visit, such was the change in that poor unfortunate’s countenance.

  “I see I am expected,” he drawled, deliberately stating the obvious. He tossed his hat and gloves into the outstretched hands.

  Mr. Nestor stepped forward from a darkened recess, lending a surprisingly dignified atmosphere to the shabby interior, before any further exchange could take place. “This way, your lordship,” he intoned heavily. “Lady Ormstead will be with you momentarily.”

  Concealing his distaste at the drab room he was shown to, Lord Umber walked over to the smoking fire and idly kicked at the sullen embers. The door, badly in need of an oiling, creaked to a close behind the butler, and he was left alone. “In many ways it is my own fault,” he mused. “If I had heeded Paul’s advice, I would be in much more comfortable surroundings.” He looked around the room with disdain. The cheap furnishings, the threadbare carpet, and the peeling paint denoted ‘genteel’ poverty and probably indicated that Lady Ormstead clung to the fringes of Society by a hair’s-breadth. She might be more successful if she were more pleasant, he thought savagely. He crossed to the windows and stared out at a row of red brick houses, grimacing at the view. It was difficult to imagine Felicia in these surroundings. Tantamount to caging an exotic bird. But if what Paul had said was true, she was not very close to this aunt. However, he thought triumphantly, that did not mean she had not made her home here, for had not David said he remembered a Mrs. Richards had been in attendance when he had visited Lady Ormstead? He frowned at this recollection, wondering again why Paul had been so evasive at lunch. Protecting his patient’s confidence, no doubt. Nonetheless, it was provoking, and he should have guessed sooner that Felicia was behind it. Now why should she want her past kept a secret? What shameful act had she committed? He felt a momentary pleasure as he imagined the worst before rejecting the thought. No, she was incapable of doing anything so monumentally distasteful, he assured himself. The reason she wanted to seek employment elsewhere must have been caused by something her parents had done.

  Her image flashed in front of him and he felt an odd choking sensation constrict his heart. Confound the girl, would he ever forget her?

  His musings were rudely interrupted at that point, as the creaking door announced the arrival of Lady Ormstead. She bustled into the room, smiling grandly. “I do beg your pardon, Lord Umber, for keeping you waiting. Pray be seated.” She indicated a most uncomfortable-looking chair right beside the smoking fire, while she herself took what had to be the only commodious seat in the room.

  Lord Umber glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf and saw with surprise that he had been kept waiting fifteen minutes. He turned a bored look on his hostess. “Thank you, but no. I do not intend making this a long visit.” He arched one eyebrow as he spoke, unconsciously presenting a formidable appearance. “I merely came to enquire about Miss Richards. Your niece, I believe?”

  Lady Ormstead stared at him in fascination. His immaculate dress gave him an indefinable air that was almost intimidating. It was only her secret knowledge of Felicia’s whereabouts that bolstered her spirit. “What has my niece been doing now, pray? Not, I hope, causing more embarrassment for my family.” There was a long-suffering edge to her voice, as though she were trying to convey to her audience how ill-used she had been.

  “Your niece, ma’am, was injured in an accident which caused the loss of her memory for a short period.”

  “How inconvenient,” Lady Ormstead murmured unsympathetically. “She is recovered, I take it?”

  Lord Umber noted the nervous way this question was asked and replied grimly. “Totally. You do not seem overly concerned that your niece was injured.”

  “And I do not see that that is any concern of yours,” Lady Ormstead snapped, wondering how this gentleman had met Felicia and just what he knew. Far better to attack than defend, she thought as she continued briskly. “I will say one thing, though, and that is her ingratitude at the hospitality I showed her—and her mother—seems to have been well rewarded. I have not seen her since she ran away several weeks ago.”

  “Until last night,” Lord Umber reminded her.

  “Or someone who bore a resemblance, my lord. One thing I know for a certainty, my niece never owned such finery as that girl wore. And if that was she, it can only mean that she did not come by it honestly.”

  Lord Umber looked away in disgust at the implication of her words but did not yield to the temptation of telling her the truth.

  “One thing you may be sure of, Lord Umber,” Lady Ormstead continued maliciously, “I will never recognize her again. And should she try and worm her way back into my household, I will personally see to it that she is put back out on the streets—for that is where she belongs. And why a fine young gentleman like yourself should be bothering about such a good-for-nothing girl as Felicia, I’ll never know.”

  The raw-edged bitterness of her voice puzzled Lord Umber. He had not said anything to provoke such an outburst, and yet this crazed woman had made it quite clear that she regarded Felicia as little more than a slut. “’Tis no more than a kindness I would show any stray animal,” he replied suavely. “However, I shall not take up any more of your time, for the purpose of my visit was to enquire about Miss Richards’ relatives and possibly restore her to them.”

  A relieved look tinged Lady Ormstead’s plump features as the realization came to her that Felicia had not spoken of the five years spent at Graystones. She suppressed a satisfied grin with difficulty. “I’ll bid you good day then, my lord. I am sorry your journey has been for naught, but I do not expect that Felicia will ever come here again, begging for help. Especially after what she did before she ran off.”

  Malicious as well as stupid, Lord Umber thought disdainfully. Does she not realize that her disinterest in the whereabouts of Felicia strikes me as suspicious? That her determination to smear Felicia’s name makes me mistrust her even more. He drew himself up to his full height, looking down on her with contempt. “I will personally insure that Miss Richards does not bother you again, for it is quite obvious that she is better off where she is.” So saying, he took out a delicate, blue enamel snuff box from his vest pocket and opened it expertly with one hand. He took a small pinch and inhaled it deeply. His gaze, however, did not waver from Lady Ormstead’s face so he did not miss the exultant look that lit her eyes. Now, what the devil can have caused that? he asked himself uneasily. She was altogether too complacent. Had Felicia already been to see her to ask for help?

  Impatiently he started for the door, for he wanted to check for himself that Felicia was safely at home with his mother. “I will see myself out, ma’am. Good day.” He snapped the noisy door shut behind him and waited while the footman fetched his hat and gloves. Impulsively, he pulled a coin out of his pocket and pressed it into the lackey’s hand. “Has a Miss Richards visited with Lady Ormstead today?” he asked casually.

  “No…no…me lord. You’re the only bit of gentry that ’as called.”

  “Do you know if Miss Richards has ever been here?” he pressed.

  “No…not that I can recall,” the footman answered, wrinkl
ing up his nose in concentration. “No. That name is not one I’ve ’eard afore.”

  “I see. Thank you.” Lord Umber stepped out of the house with a sigh of relief and ordered his coachman to spring the horses to his mother’s house. He felt something was wrong and needed to seek reassurance that Felicia was well.

  After his departure, Lady Ormstead sat for several minutes laughing to herself. “Oh! yes, my fine young dandy. Felicia is far better off where she is. Far better off. And don’t think you can come back again and bamboozle me into telling you anything more. Ha! Ha! No one is ever going to find you now, Felicia. No one.” She stood up abruptly and rang the bell several times.

  After what seemed to her an interminable wait, Mr. Nestor appeared. “You rang, your ladyship?”

  “Several times, Nestor.” She paced the room as she spoke. “I want you to insure that Lord Umber is never admitted again, if he should call. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly, your ladyship.”

  “Good. I will hold you responsible if my order is disobeyed. I shall be in my sitting room if Mr. Brown calls. Kindly show him there when he arrives.” Without waiting for an answer she left the room, leaving in her wake an echo of triumphant laughter.

  Fourteen

  Lord Umber and David arrived at Lady Louisa’s house together, and the air of suppressed excitement that enveloped David did much to dissipate the feeling of foreboding Lord Umber had.

  “Ian,” David exclaimed happily, “the very person I would want to be present when I tell Miss Richards who she is.”

  “She already knows, David,” Lord Umber replied, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Her memory returned this morning.”

  “Ah! but I have information that even she knows nothing of. Come, let us go inside and give her the good news.”

  Once again Lord Umber’s spirits rose, for David’s good humor was infectious. However, the atmosphere in the house was oppressive, and both men looked at each other in alarm. The unusually somber face of Sims, the butler, indicated that something was amiss and the way the footman refused to raise his eyes from the intricate mosaic pattern of the tiled floor confirmed this.

  “Is everything all right, Sims?” Lord Umber inquired. The butler indicated the blue saloon with some distress. “Lady Louisa is anxious to see you, your lordship. I…I…”

  “Well, what is it, Sims? For God’s sake, tell me what has happened.”

  “It’s Miss Richards, your lordship. It appears that she has disappeared.”

  David looked at Lord Umber quickly and saw the naked despair that clouded his friend’s eyes. Egad! he thought, Ian really is in love with the chit. I wonder if he knows it.

  “Thank you, Sims,” Lord Umber said heavily. “No, no, there is no need to announce us. Let us see what all this is about, David.” He moved forward, and David followed him tentatively.

  “There must be an explanation, Ian,” he said gently. “Mayhap she went to exchange a book at the library, or even lost herself for an hour or two in the Pantheon.”

  “Of course, David. There is bound to be a simple answer. It is just that I spent a rather unpleasant afternoon with Miss Richards’ aunt, Lady Ormstead, and now this news. Frankly, it makes me feel uneasy. I fear Lady Ormstead is quite mad and has something to do with Miss Richards’ nonappearance.”

  “Lady Ormstead said something that indicated her involvement?” David asked.

  “Ever the solicitor, David, aren’t you? No, she said nothing—it was all in her attitude.” He opened the door softly. “Let us do what we can to reassure Mama that all is well.”

  The sight that greeted them was far from reassuring. Lady Louisa was prone on a pretty chintz chaise, and Dr. Ross was standing over her feeling her pulse. He turned around at the sound of voices and smiled encouragingly. “It is not as bad as it looks, Ian,” he comforted, carefully placing Lady Louisa’s arm across her chest. “I have just given her a dose of laudanum to ease her anxiety, otherwise she is perfectly well.” He moved over to his friends as he spoke. “Is there another room we can use? I think it as well for Lady Louisa to rest for a while.”

  “The study,” Lord Umber said quickly. “This way.” He led the party out into the hallway and pointed to a door diagonally opposite. “In there. I will join you in a moment.” He beckoned the footman over who had been hovering nearby and ordered some refreshments.

  “Yes, m’lord. Right away, sir,” he said with respect and scurried off to do as he was bade.

  As Lord Umber entered the library, he cast an apprehensive look at Dr. Ross. “I take it the disappearance of Miss Richards caused Mama to react as she did? Nothing more serious?”

  “That’s about it, Ian. She has spent most of the morning until now,” he pulled out his fob watch, “that’s almost five hours, working herself into this state. When Miss Richards failed to return from her appointment with me by noon, Lady Louisa sent a servant to my office. Unfortunately I had already left for my luncheon with you, and instead of returning to Lady Louisa, the silly man decided he’d best stay put until I came back.”

  “What time did you return?” David asked.

  “Not more than fifty minutes ago.” He turned to Lord Umber apologetically. “I met some colleagues on my way out of White’s, otherwise I would have returned much earlier.”

  “Ian tells me that Miss Richards’ memory returned completely, Paul. Would this occurrence have caused her to run away?”

  “No. Not at all. She made up her mind to seek employment elsewhere, but had agreed to stay with Lady Louisa until another position could be found.”

  David looked at Dr. Ross quizzically, but Lord Umber intercepted the question. “It would appear she did not want to become a charitable case,” he said. “Are you positive, Paul, that she was perfectly composed when she left you? There’s no chance she could have undergone a change of mind because of something she had recalled that was shaming?”

  “You have my word, Ian, that Miss Richards had no reason to be ashamed of anything. Her father was killed in a duel nearly six years ago, whereupon her mother was forced to seek Lady Ormstead’s aid. They made their home with her until Mrs. Richards died. It was then that Felicia…I mean Miss Richards…left to go to Manchester.”

  “It all seems unexceptionable to me,” David said at length, quite forgetting the news he had to impart as his mind tried to unravel the mystery. “Perhaps Miss Richards has returned to Lady Ormstead.”

  “No,” Lord Umber said flatly. “As I mentioned to you, I have just returned from visiting that woman,” he turned to Dr. Ross and smiled briefly. “I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

  Dr. Ross smiled in understanding.

  “Miss Richards has not been there,” he continued, “and I doubt whether she would ever return. Not only is the aunt mad, she’s vindictive, spiteful, and cruel. As a matter of fact, I asked the footman there if a Miss Richards had paid a call on Lady Ormstead, and his denial was most emphatic.”

  Dr. Ross shook his head. “I must confess, I was pinning my hopes on the aunt, for, quite honestly, I cannot think of where else she could have gone. I don’t suppose she had much money with her?”

  “Mama would know the answer to that, but I would doubt it.” Lord Umber turned to David. “Can your legal mind think of anything that we laymen have missed?”

  David shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a mystery…an absolute mystery. Wait, it’s just an idea, but has she made any particular friends since she has been in London? Someone she would trust enough to turn to, or want to confide in? It is always possible that she is enjoying a comfortable gossip and doesn’t realize the time.”

  Lord Umber shook his head slowly. “She would have sent word to Mama that she had been detained had that been the case, unless I am much mistaken about her character, for she would not want to cause Mama any unnecessary worry. No, I think it’s possible that she has met with an accident.” A frown gathered on his brow as he spoke, the suggestion he had just made not at all to his
liking. He dismissed it with another shake of his head. “Paul, I hate to sound so disbelieving, but are you absolutely sure nothing occurred this morning that we should know about? Her disappearance doesn’t make sense otherwise….” He broke off as the butler entered, bearing a tray which he carefully placed on a side table. “Thank you, Sims, that will be all.” He gestured to his guests to help themselves as he poured himself a large brandy. Normally, he did not imbibe during the day, but this latest news of Felicia had upset him. He recalled the conversation they had at breakfast, but could think of nothing he said that would have caused her to run away. “Well, Paul?”

  “Absolutely not, Ian,” he answered emphatically. If he thought, for one moment that Felicia’s disappearance had anything to do with what he only suspected were her true feelings for Lord Umber, he knew he would say something. But he didn’t, and so he decided it was best to say nothing. He glanced at David, as though looking for support, but as a discreet tapping at the door ended the conversation, he sipped at his drink while Lord Umber bade the butler enter.

  “Excuse me, your lordship,” Sims said tentatively. “Lady Barbara Whitelaw is here, asking to see Lady Louisa.”

  The three men looked at each other in surprise. “Do you think Miss Richards…?” Paul began.

  “Hardly,” Lord Umber said, remembering the contempt that had unconsciously crept into Felicia’s voice that morning as they talked of Lady Barbara. “Even so, I will see her, just in case she has some news.” He turned to Sims. “Show her into the rose room. I will join her shortly.”