by Cheryl Bolen
The colonel knew those who knew him, including Felicity, could not help but be aware of his great dislike for Thomas Moreland. If Moreland were to meet with an accident, he would be the only suspect Now, though, with Lady Catherine’s help, he could get rid of the Upstart without incriminating himself in any way.
He walked outside, and his Hessians came into immediate contact with a huge puddle from last night’s rain. Though he abhorred boots that weren’t perfect, he did not mind the soggy mess today. Today was a glorious day for Colonel Benchley Gordon. He allowed his coachman to let down the steps to his red carriage, and he happily rode off.
The morning after the robbery Felicity did her best to avoid seeing Mr. Moreland. In fact, she hoped she never saw him again. She and Glee busied themselves in the drawing room.
“Do you know, Felicity,” Glee began, “I believe Mrs. Campbell’s description of her son’s benefactor sounds remarkably like Mr. Moreland.”
Felicity shrugged. “I suppose it does.”
“Don’t you think it’s him?”
“I suppose it could be.” Felicity did not look up but continued at her sewing. “What does it matter to us? The benefactor asked for anonymity, and I mean to allow things to stay as they are.”
Glee pouted. “You could at least say what a wonderful man Mr. Moreland is.”
“Do you think he is?” Felicity said casually, running her needle into the cloth inside the embroidery hoop.
“You thought so as recently as yesterday,” Glee said with agitation.
Felicity continued her sewing. “Did I?”
“Yes, you did! Even last night, you were terribly concerned over him.”
Felicity looked up at her and smiled. “But now, my sweet, I realize the man was correct. ‘Twas only a scratch.”
“Then why did you forbid him to move or to go to his own home?”
“I suppose I thought the wound was deeper than it was,” Felicity said.
“Will you allow him to go home today?”
“I wish him gone right now. A pity George hasn’t sent him on his way.”
“I suspect they await permission from you.”
Felicity laughed. It would do the deceitful Mr. Moreland good to wait all morning long. She was not about to enter that chamber again so long as he remained there.
“George said Mr. Moreland’s valet brought him a change of clothes this morning,” Glee said.
“Then I heartily wish the man gone.”
Looking puzzled, Glee searched her sister’s face. “Yesterday—and especially last night—I was convinced you had given your heart to Mr. Moreland. I was so happy for you. What has happened?”
Felicity let out an insincere laugh. “I assure you, my wearing color again had absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Thomas Moreland.”
“I don’t believe you,” Glee said. “What has Mr. Moreland done to you to bring about such a marked change?”
“Nothing.”
“You can’t lie to me, Felicity. I know you too well.”
They heard male voices and looked up to see George and Mr. Moreland. Felicity hated that Thomas was so devastatingly handsome in his black coat and gray breeches, both of which looked as though they had come straight from the tailor. Was it just last night she had not only gazed at his manly chest but had also run her hands over its length as she cleaned away his blood? No wonder she had welcomed the opportunity to kiss him.
She couldn’t allow herself to remember the kiss. There could be no more. No matter how painful it would be for her.
His valet must have shaved him, she thought, for Mr. Moreland’s clean-shaved face looked rested, and his hair had been dressed.
“My nurse will be happy to know that I’m fully recovered,” Thomas said to Felicity.
“Will I?” she said without emotion, not removing her gaze from her embroidery.
A flinch of distress passed across his face. “I hope I have not offended you, Mrs. Harrison.”
“Why don’t you tell my family the real reason you came to Bath, Mr. Moreland?” Felicity’s eyes shot daggers at him.
He gave her a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you not tell my brother and sister about our first meeting? Our real first meeting. Tell them why you have been so generous to my family. Tell them that your kindnesses and attentions have merely been out of gratitude.”
“What’s she talking about, old boy?” George asked, a quizzical expression on his face.
Thomas ran a shaking hand through his dark hair and sank into a large velvet chair. “Your sister’s partially right,” he said, looking at George. “More than six years ago when your sister was on her way to London to marry Captain Harrison, she came upon me bleeding and near death on the side of a dark road.”
“Good God! What had happened to you?” George asked.
“I had been robbed of the money I had saved to fund my passage to India. Highwaymen stabbed me and also stole my horse.” He stopped for moment, his voice low and morose. “I broke my leg when I fell.”
“I remember Lettie telling me about that!” Glee shrieked. “She said she warned Felicity not to take in the bleeding man, but Felicity was determined to save him.”
Thomas lowered his gaze. “That she did. She even arranged—through her husband-to-be—a job for me in the ship’s galley, where I could work sitting down until my leg healed.”
“So you can see he feels compelled to repay me,” Felicity said bitterly. “I daresay if it weren’t for me, he would never have made his fortune, nor would he be standing here now.”
“I say, that’s quite a story,” George exclaimed. “Fancy that. You knowing Felicity six years ago. When you were poor.” He turned to Felicity. “Why did you not tell us this before?”
“It wasn’t until I saw the blood on his shirt last night that I realized he was the same man.”
“So when he said he was renewing an old acquaintance with you, he wasn’t lying,” George said.
Felicity laughed a bitter laugh. “Mr. Moreland never lies, he just deceeee—” A sob broke off her words as she leaped to her feet and ran from the room.
Chapter Eighteen
For the next few days, Felicity refused to see Thomas when he called. The letters he sent were tossed unopened on the fire. She encouraged Glee and George to go to the Assembly Rooms without her.
She could not face Thomas Moreland now that she had made a total cake of herself over him. To think, she had pushed aside dear Michael’s memory for a man who had only pretended to care for her. She had foolishly mistaken indebtedness for romantic interest.
She tried to think back over the many ways she had embarrassed herself. It had to be obvious to Thomas there was no coincidence that she threw off mourning, as well as Michael’s locket, the very day after they had kissed. She could not have made herself more available to him had she hung a sign around her neck.
Then there was the manner in which she had possessively tucked her arm into his at the Pump Room and the way she told him that he was the first person she would turn to in a crisis. That she believed him to be an honest, honorable man. The words fairly choked her now.
He must have pitied her greatly. She could never face him again. Why had she not stayed safely within her widow’s garb and inured herself to pain forever-more?
She had a mind to take refuge in her black again; but once mourning was shed, there was no going back. She would only look more the fool.
Besides, when she had decided to wear color she had also firmly consented to bury her past with Michael and to embrace the future. But what kind of a future could she hope for now? Colonel Gordon and the other men who had made overtures to her held as much appeal as a case of leprosy.
For, despite his deceitfulness, Thomas Moreland stood head and shoulders above other men in more ways than just the physical. No other man could measure up to him. Even if she did despise him.
Felicity knew she could not spend the rest of her life feign
ing illness. Already, she had used every scrap of fabric and every inch of thread in the house on her needlework projects, and her fingers threatened to become permanently calloused. She had begun to reread the books in her library, except for the Shakespeare. That would remind her too much of Thomas. She longed to go to the lending library, but she refused to budge from her house on Charles Street.
After three days, Felicity decided she would have to face society—and Thomas—again. The trick was to act as if nothing had ever happened between them. Especially not the two kisses.
Tonight she would return to the Upper Assembly Rooms.
Thomas had grown to regret that when Felicity had told her siblings about the night she had really met him, he had not told them the whole truth—how he had dreamed of her for six years, how he worshiped the very earth she trod. If only he had, he would not be suffering as he now was.
For Felicity might as well be in India for the impossibility of communicating with her. She had refused to see him. He had waited in front of her house for a chance meeting for days, but she had never left the house. As a last resort, he had sent her long letters in which he had bared his soul; but she must not have read them. How could he make her see how truly he loved her?
He thought of all this now as he stood in the Assembly Rooms gazing at her for the first time in five days. Her appearance stole his breath. She had never looked lovelier. She wore a pale ivory gown he had not seen on her before. Her hair framed her face in spun-gold ringlets. Tonight, he decided, he would make her listen to him. He wasted no time in crossing the floor to her. “It is imperative I speak with you, Felicity.”
Her gaze wandered somewhere above his head as she spoke haughtily. “I am sure I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Moreland.” Then she turned, giving him the cut, and moved across the room to sit where the peers sat, though no others were present.
As he stood there pondering what to do next, Carlotta wandered up. “What have you done to make Felicity so angry?” Carlotta’s eyes sparkled with mirth; there was no trace of concern in her voice.
The orchestra was beginning to play a waltz. He ignored Carlotta’s comment while he reexamined his assault. He had tried to contact Felicity by all methods a gentleman would use, and none of them had met with any success. What about a more unorthodox method?
He turned to Carlotta, all smiles and interest. “You’re just the one I was hoping to see, Mrs. Ennis.”
Her brows raised. “Really?”
He took her hand. “You would make me the happiest of men if you would honor me by being my dance partner.”
She gave him a quizzing expression. “But you’ve never wanted me for a waltz before.”
If the woman had been less brazen, he would never have attempted to use her; but because of the way she had acted with him and Felicity since the first, he had no compunction about feigning a hearty interest. After all, she had done her best to keep Felicity and him apart. “Ah, but now I know what a wonderful dancer you are—not to mention that you are the most striking woman in the room.” At least those words were not untruthful. She was the most striking. And Felicity was the most beautiful.
“Why this sudden change of interest?” Carlotta asked. “Won’t Felicity have anything to do with you?”
“She will not, which has made me realize I have been overlooking one very lovely violet-eyed beauty.” The part about the violet-eyed beauty was true.
He led her to the dance floor. In case Felicity was watching, he must appear to be having a good time with Mrs. Ennis. He set his left hand snugly about her waist while pulling her much closer to his chest than he ever had Felicity. “You dance the waltz as if you were born to it,” he said with charm—and a broad smile.
He would have paid handsomely for the delighted expression Carlotta returned. “Why thank you, Mr. Moreland. You, also, are a most skilled dancer. However did you learn to dance so well when you were off making a fortune in India?”
He could tell she liked the part about the fortune. “My dear Mrs. Ennis, I have found there is nothing that cannot be had, provided one’s pockets are deep enough.”
Now, he could almost hear her purr. “And your pockets are very deep.”
If Carlotta was purring, he hoped Felicity was sharpening her claws.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that Felicity was not unaware of Carlotta and him.
For the rest of the dance, he and Carlotta talked animatedly, even seductively. She spread her fingers over his shoulders throughout the dance and spoke in a lazy, low voice when she wasn’t throwing her head back in laughter.
When the dance was finished, he made it a point to shadow Carlotta for the remainder of the night.
Felicity’s only defense was to sit with the colonel, who was prevented from dancing by his bad leg. Thomas and Felicity glared across the room at each other like two prize-fighters before a match.
He didn’t waste any time replacing me, a dejected Felicity thought as she grudgingly watched Thomas and Carlotta enjoy themselves. Had he run to Carlotta as soon as he no longer had to be gallant to her? Was Carlotta the one he had really desired all along?
Since the first time she had seen them dance together, Felicity had been struck by what a handsome couple they made. And now that she was no longer an encumbrance, the two could enjoy each other’s company.
How many days now had Thomas been seeking out Carlotta? Had they kissed? Felicity’s stomach coiled at the memory of his hungry kisses.
She jerked her attention to the other side of the dance floor as George and a very bored-looking Blanks strolled into the room. George’s eyes darted around the room until he saw Dianna on the dance floor with another naval officer. The easy expression on his face changed to a glare. Then his eyes alighted on Felicity, and he and his friend came to greet her and the colonel.
“Are you sure,” the colonel said to George, “your sister is well enough to be out in the night air?”
George looked totally puzzled. “Ah, what sister would that be?”
The colonel placed a hand on Felicity’s arm. “Mrs. Harrison, of course. It has come to your attention that she has not been in public for several days because of her infirmity.”
“Oh, yes, quite,” George said. “If you’ll remember my sister Glee was, ah, sick before that.”
The colonel nodded. “As happy as I am to see the lovely Mrs. Harrison out again, I cannot help but worry for her. I’ve encouraged her not to fatigue herself dancing tonight. There will be other nights for that.”
“Quite right,” George said, shooting impatient glances at Dianna. “Don’t know why those navy blokes aren’t off with Nelson sinking ships.” He smiled when the dance was over, and Dianna had her partner escort her to where George stood.
“How good it is to see you about again, Mrs. Harrison,” Dianna said. “Are you feeling up to attending an assembly so soon?”
“I am quite recovered, though you may notice I am not dancing.”
Dianna smiled. “I declare, my brother has been beside himself with worry over you.”
“I daresay your brother has quite forgotten Mrs. Harrison now,” the colonel interjected, his gaze shooting to Thomas and Carlotta.
Before Dianna could reply, George begged her to stand up with him, and she accepted, a look of fresh pleasure on her face.
Now Glee came up, a cup of ratafia in her hand. “Well, Blanks,” she said, “I see George has once again deserted you. You will be forced now to dance with me.”
Though he had not noticed Glee until she spoke, he said, “That would be my greatest pleasure, Miss Pembroke.” Then he led her out to the dance floor.
The colonel patted Felicity’s hand. “Did you not see how coarse Mr. Moreland is? The way he held Mrs. Ennis’s waist was most scandalous.”
Felicity shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed. I daresay whatever he does is at Carlotta’s encouragement. She’s never been shy in her persistent pursuit of him.”
“What she sees i
n the Upstart is beyond me,” Colonel Gordon said.
“I suppose there are those who might find Mr. Moreland handsome,” Felicity said. “If one likes big men, that is. A woman would have a perpetual ache in her neck from simply kissing the man.”
“I suppose she would,” the colonel agreed.
Why did she have to mention kissing Thomas? She grew heated with longing to once more feel his lips on hers.
She shook off the thought. Now, she supposed, his kisses would only be for Carlotta. Felicity watched her rival, jealous of the way Carlotta’s generous breasts spilled into her regal purple velvet dress. Despite that Carlotta was flamboyant in her coloring and dress, the woman really was awfully beautiful.
Felicity’s vision then swung to George and Dianna, who were dancing down a longway, their eyes bright with merriment. Yes, Felicity thought, her brother was smitten, and if she was not mistaken, Miss Moreland returned his ardor.
“You must allow me to take you home tonight,” Colonel Gordon told Felicity. “My carriage will keep you out of the elements.”
At first she didn’t know what he was talking about There was no rain or snow, and their house was just blocks away. Then she remembered he referred to her recent “indisposition." As much as she did not wish to ride home in the colonel’s flashy red carriage, she did wish to make Thomas jealous. “How very kind of you, Colonel,” she said, placing her hand on his sleeve.
A few minutes later the orchestra stopped playing, and chattering, laughing people began to file out the doors. She gathered up Glee, and the three of them left.
She had thought Glee’s presence would protect her from Colonel Gordon’s advances, but even in front of Glee, he said, “Now that you are no longer in mourning, Mrs. Harrison, you really must marry me. I could see to all your financial needs. I daresay you’d never want for anything again. We could even present Glee in London.”