by Cheryl Bolen
As Felicity came down the stairs to meet him, Thomas nearly lost his breath. She wore a pale blue wool dress, covered by a pelisse in the same shade of blue. He swallowed hard. It was the same dress she had worn the night she rescued him six years before. Never, though, had she been more beautiful than she was right now. Her silvery white hair shimmered around her face like a halo, the same way it had done that long-ago night. Her periwinkle eyes now met his, a smile deepening her dimples.
He was nearly speechless as he moved to meet her. “You . . . you look more lovely than ever, Felicity.”
“Wearing color was the least I could do to show you how much I am indebted to you. I cannot forget that you have beseeched me to do so at least a dozen times.” At the foot of the stairs, she offered him her hand, and taking it in his own hands, he bent to kiss it.
When he rose again, his sparkling eyes met hers. “It is I who am profoundly grateful.”
Not wanting to share her with any other companions, he had come in his phaeton, which had seating for two and no more. As she sat next to him on the short drive to the Pump Room, he commended himself on his decision. He very much liked the feel of her sitting this closely to him. When her leg brushed against his, his pulse raced like a lad’s who was still wet behind the ears.
A number of people on the pavement looked at her, their jaws dropping. He fancied they were as pleased as he to see the beautiful blond widow wear color.
In the Pump Room, company was thin. He and Felicity made their way toward the fountain, where an attendant handed each of them a glass of the water that they quickly downed, looks of displeasure on their faces.
Felicity handed Thomas her glass, an amused smile on her face. “Please assure me that, having drunk the odious water, I shall enjoy remarkable health for the rest of my days, Mr. Moreland.”
He tossed back his head and laughed. “Would that I could.” He offered his arm, and Felicity laughingly linked hers through his as they set off to circle the room.
‘Twas good that he was a large man, Thomas reflected. Were he lighter, he would have soared to the heavens. Such happiness as he now felt was alien indeed. The love of his life had shed her widow’s weeds for him, and at that moment possessively hooked her arm into his, pressing his arm into the soft side of her breast. Thomas was swamped in strong emotions and physical pleasure almost as powerful as last night’s kiss. The very thought of the kiss stirred him to his core—and had a levitating effect below his waist as well.
“You are drawing rather a lot of stares,” he told her as they continued to make the circle around the room.
“I had no idea that many people had ever taken notice of me,” she said with wonderment. “You must admit I was enormously drab.”
“I cannot agree with you. Even dressed as a scullery maid, you would be beautiful.”
He could tell his comment embarrassed her for she was quick to change the topic of conversation.
“I must say I was most surprised to see you this morning, Mr. Moreland. I thought you would be catching up on your sleep because you had not slept since . . . since that awful night.”
He patted her hand. “And you slept well during that time?”
“Of course I didn’t,” she said. “Except for a couple of hours. But not so with my wayward sister. Shortly before you came, I looked in on her, and the sound didn’t rouse her in the least.”
“Don’t be surprised if she sleeps all day,” he warned.
“Under normal circumstances, she does that!” Felicity said with a smile.
He nodded. “As do most youths of her age.”
Felicity looked up into his face. Except Thomas Moreland when he was a youth. “You were driven by an unquenchable thirst to succeed.”
“Ah! You remember.”
“My dear Mr. Moreland, I am hardly likely to forget anything about you, for I have never before known anyone even remotely like you.”
“I shall take that as a compliment,” he said.
She was quiet for a moment, then said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I suppose it was.”
He soared even higher.
He could not have said how many times they had circled the room. He had no desire to share his precious Felicity with anyone else, which had prompted him to encourage his sister to stay in this morning.
So it was with reluctance he saw Carlotta of the Lilac Gown enter the room, though he ignored her presence.
Only Felicity could bring this stroll to a stop. He hoped she was so lost in conversation with him that her friend’s entrance had escaped her.
But here his luck ended. Felicity got a glimpse of the lady in lilac and stopped in order to greet her friend.
This was the first time Carlotta Ennis did not greet him first. “Felicity! You are wearing color! Pray, what has come over you?” A look of concern swept across Carlotta’s face.
Then Carlotta looked up at Thomas, the features on her face hardening.
“I have decided you were right to encourage me to put my mourning behind me—as you have so wisely done,” Felicity said.
“How nice.” Carlotta’s voice lacked sincerity.
“Does she not look lovely in blue?” Thomas asked, hoping that now the raven-haired beauty would understand Felicity’s unique pull on his affections and would abandon her designs on him.
“Blue is a very good color on Mrs. Harrison,” Carlotta said stiffly.
How he wished Carlotta Ennis had avoided the Pump Room today.
Not only did Carlotta not avoid the Pump Room, but neither did Colonel Gordon. With anger, Thomas watched the tall man with a cane limping toward them.
Felicity had been perfectly content with only Mr. Moreland for company. She was coming to realize he was not only more handsome than other men of her acquaintance but also more interesting.
His dark good looks alone could never have assured her acceptance of him. Only a man of noble actions was capable of releasing her from her bondage to Michael’s memory. In so many ways, Thomas Moreland was proving his worth.
She thought of her brother and other idle men of his class and realized how poorly they compared to Mr. Moreland.
With great reluctance, she had greeted Carlotta— steeling herself against her friend’s onslaught of outrageous flirting with Mr. Moreland.
Felicity was greatly surprised over Carlotta’s hostility to Thomas Moreland and her. Did Carlotta think they had an understanding? It wouldn’t do at all for such nonsense to be spread over Bath.
“I see you two have managed to slip away from your young sisters,” Carlotta observed wryly.
“You must know from Tuesday night at the Assembly Rooms that Glee is not feeling well,” Felicity snapped.
“And my sister is like a fish from water without her bosom friend,” Thomas added.
From the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Colonel Gordon enter from the antechamber, and for some odd reason she grew nervous.
Dressed immaculately, the colonel came straight to her and bowed. “You dazzle me, Mrs. Harrison. How very good it is to see you in color.” Not acknowledging Thomas, he turned to Carlotta. “You must agree, Mrs. Ennis, your friend looks lovely in blue.”
“So I’ve been told,” Carlotta replied icily.
“I suggest you and Mrs. Ennis take the water,” Thomas said to Colonel Gordon. “You don’t look at all well today, Colonel.”
“Do, let’s,” Carlotta said, tucking her arm into the older man’s.
Thomas offered Felicity his arm, and they began to walk again. “I am most displeased over your comment to Colonel Gordon,” she scolded. “You must admit he ignored my presence first.” “His rudeness is no excuse for yours.” “Yes, madam. I am deeply repentful. And do not forget, ‘Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.’ ”
“So you think to soften me by spouting Shakespeare. This once, I will show you mercy, but you really must be kinder to the colonel.”
Though she spoke glowingly of Colonel Gordon, unexplainable i
ll feelings toward him lurked within her. Wherever she walked in the room, she found Colonel Gordon’s glaring eyes on her. And she felt excessively uncomfortable.
Chapter Fourteen
Colonel Gordon’s throat was so constricted in anger, he could barely drink. He was losing Felicity to that damned upstart from India. After being in love with Felicity for five years, the colonel was not about to lose her now. Not after all the things he had done for her. Things that could send him to the gallows.
Without being summoned, a vision of the dying Captain Harrison sprang to the colonel’s thoughts. He remembered standing over Harrison as he’d pulled the sword from Harrison’s belly.
“Why?” the captain had asked with his dying breath.
The colonel had smiled down at him. “For Felicity. Now she’ll be mine.”
“I’ve always refused this odious stuff,” Carlotta told Gordon as she took a long sip and winced. “But I thought perhaps I needed it today.”
He nodded solemnly, clearly understanding her meaning. “You have desired Mr. Moreland for only a matter of weeks. I have loved Felicity for many years.”
She looked at him sympathetically. “A pity we cannot force them to love us.”
There was no room in his life for pity. He would let nothing stand in the way of his possessing Felicity Harrison, especially not a big oaf recently returned from India. Obviously his lie about Moreland’s illegitimate family had failed to dampen Felicity’s interest in the Upstart.
The devil of it was that it was damned hard to compete with the man. Not only was he enormously wealthy, he was also a man women found incredibly handsome. The colonel looked down at his own useless leg, and anger roiled within him. I did this for you, Felicity.
He and Carlotta stood watching Felicity and Moreland stroll about the room. Felicity spoke to the Upstart as if no one else existed. The colonel swallowed hard. Never before—not even when Captain Harrison was alive—had he seen her glow so happily.
Nor could he remember ever feeling lower.
He meant to have Felicity Harrison even if it meant killing Moreland. He had already killed once for her, and he would gladly do it again.
Now, to devise a scheme . . .
“You are not wearing your locket today,” Thomas said, ignoring the colonel and Mrs. Ennis, who seemed to be waiting for them. To hell with them. He was intent in his resolve not to share Felicity.
“You are far too observant.”
“What was in the locket?” he asked.
Her lashes swept low, as did her voice when she replied. “ ‘Twas my husband’s picture and a lock of his hair.”
The sadness in her voice prevented him from rejoicing. Victory was so close he could almost taste it. That would have to be enough.
“It’s good you have finally cast off your mourning. You are young and beautiful—and far too alive to deny yourself a family. Not many women as young as you would have mourned so long and faithfully. ‘Tis a tribute to what must have been a happy marriage.”
“I cannot pretend that I haven’t heard the same words a thousand times. I suppose four years is long enough to mourn Michael—not that I will ever stop loving him.”
“Of course,” Thomas said, his stomach sinking.
They were silent for a moment, then she began, “There is something troubling me about you, Mr. Moreland.”
His heart thumped. “What, pray tell?”
“I have learned something of your past in India that is deeply at odds with the man I know you to be.”
His step did not falter. “I did nothing in India for which I must apologize.”
She came to a stop and gazed at him with flashing eyes. “What of the children you fathered there and left behind?”
Anger flared in his eyes. “What the devil are you talking about?” he asked with outrage.
“Are you telling me you did not live as husband and wife with an Indian woman?”
“I am indeed telling you that,” he replied angrily. “First, I didn’t have the time. I was a very busy man. And, second, you know nothing of India if you think it permissible for a Hindi woman to live with an Englishman. The woman would have been killed by her own kind for an action such as that.”
Felicity nodded solemnly and began walking again. “It did not sound like something you would do.”
“I don’t have to ask who told such lies about me. It had to be Gordon.”
“I cannot say who, but it wasn’t Colonel Gordon.”
Thomas gave a bitter laugh. If Gordon hadn’t told the lie himself, then he had someone else do it Carlotta perhaps? He would put nothing past Gordon. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out the man had shot himself to get out of combat Good manners dictated they rejoin the colonel and Carlotta, though the conversation that followed was sadly flat. At least until George and Blanks showed up.
“I say, Moreland,” George said, “where’s your sister today?”
Thomas was surprised to see the young cad about so early. The fellow must not have gone to the gaming establishments after he dealt with Glee the night before. That was a good sign. “I regret to inform you she’s back at Winston Hall,” Thomas answered.
It was becoming more obvious by the day that young Lord Sedgewick was enamored of Dianna. Hadn’t Thomas hoped for so good a match for his only sister? To think, the daughter of a bookseller to become the wife of a viscount. Lady Sedgewick.
But he did not like to think of the man’s foolish ways. The heavy gaming. His excessive lifestyle that exceeded his means. His taste for women of dubious morals. Though Thomas had to admit Sedgewick had improved since meeting Dianna, he was not at all assured such stability would last And he was not at all sure that George Pembroke, the viscount Sedgewick, was good enough for his sweet sister.
“Miss Moreland had no interest in coming here without Glee,” Felicity said. “And, as you know, Glee is still recovering from her illness.”
“Oh, yes, quite,” George said awkwardly.
“I did not know you were such an early riser, Lord Sedgewick,” Carlotta teased George good-naturedly.
“Oh, I’ve changed all my habits as of late,” he said. “For the better, I hope.” He cast a nervous glance at Thomas.
“Bloody dull he is,” Blanks muttered.
George patted his friend on the back. “You’ll understand, old chap, when you’re more mature. Gaming tables and sleeping one’s days away will shorten a man’s life and reduce his capacity for enjoying simpler pleasures.”
Felicity nodded. “Indeed. Papa was scarcely more than forty when he died, and I needn’t hide from any of you Papa’s affection for gaming.”
“Lived a long, happy life, it seems to me,” Blanks said.
“Then by your standards,” Thomas said to Blanks, “I have but ten more years to live.”
“You are thirty?” Carlotta asked, her lavender eyes wide.
“I will be soon. I am nine-and-twenty for but two more months.”
The colonel gave a wicked laugh. “A mere babe. I am nine-and-thirty and except for my bad leg, as fit as an eighteen-year-old. Not to mention that I’m far wiser.”
And free of humility, Thomas thought, though he did have to admit the man had not gone to fat as had other men his age. However, he suspected Colonel Gordon was rather slender by nature.
“Tell me,” Blanks said to the colonel, “since you’re older and wiser, what does a man do around here for amusement in the daylight?”
Everyone in their circle burst out laughing.
“My good man, you need only find a young lass to make everything interesting,” Colonel Gordon said.
Blanks shook his head vehemently. “I’m not about to get caught in the parson’s mousetrap.”
George rolled his eyes. “Blanks insists he will never marry.”
“ ‘Tis because the women whose company he keeps are not the kind men of quality marry,” Carlotta interjected.
Felicity angrily faced Carlotta. “Carlotta! I beg that y
ou don’t speak of such.”
“Please forgive me, Mr. Blankenship,” Carlotta murmured in her husky voice.
“Nothing to forgive, Mrs. Ennis,” he said.
Thomas found himself wondering why Dianna had never been attracted to Gregory Blankenship. He was as handsome a man as Thomas had ever seen. That he was a man of great fortune, though, would matter little to Dianna.
All of this was not to say that George wasn’t handsome. He was rather shorter than Blankenship and far more fair. Perhaps that is what Dianna found attractive about him. Was it not true that opposites attracted? And Dianna was nearly as dark as her brother. Of course she would be attracted to George’s golden good looks.
There was also the fact that George treated Dianna with the reverence one would reserve for the queen, while Blankenship beheld her with indifference. Thomas wondered if his indifference was because George had clearly marked his spot, or was Blankenship simply not attracted to Dianna?
As dearly as he loved Felicity, Thomas was not sure he could bless a union between her brother and his sister.
Anxious to be alone with Felicity again, he said, “Mrs. Harrison is surely worried about her ailing sister. I had best take her home.”
They said their farewells, and he and Felicity rode home in his phaeton.
“I realize you must come by horse or conveyance because the distance from Winston Hall to my house is quite far,” Felicity said to Thomas, “but I beg you next time to leave your phaeton at my house. I prefer walking the streets of Bath. Everything is so close at hand here, not at all like in London.”
“As you wish, Felicity.”
“Pray, do not call me by my Christian name while we are in company.”
“I have not done so.”
“I know,” she said.
At least she had not forbidden him to address her by her first name. Another victory, he thought with delight. His six-year quest neared a fruitful conclusion.
He would have preferred to drive along every street in Bath to keep Felicity with him—so close that she touched him—but he knew he could not.