by Cheryl Bolen
Perhaps Sedgewick had been back to the gaming hells and needed Thomas to pay off his markers. “Yes?” Thomas said warily.
George cleared his throat. “You may have noticed that I have a marked preference for Miss Moreland.”
The boy wanted Dianna’s hand! Relief washed over Thomas. He nodded, barely able to prevent a smile from lifting the corners of his mouth.
George looked him straight in the eye. “I must tell you your sister affects me as no other woman ever has.”
As your sister affects me. Thomas merely nodded.
“Miss Moreland is the most beautiful, graceful, sensitive—wonderful—girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” George stopped and nervously cleared his throat. “To cut right to the chase, I must tell you, Moreland, I’m desperately in love with your sister.”
“And does my sister know your feelings?”
George shook his head. “I dared not press my suit without your approval. I believe Miss Moreland has a partiality toward me, but I did not want to encourage it if you were going to deny me—which you have every right to do—given my past indiscretions.
“But I want you to know that my deep feelings for Miss Moreland have made a new man of me. I have no desire to continue with my former ways of debauchery.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair. “I wish I could be convinced you will not regress. Tell me, what is it you want from life now?”
George thought on it a moment. “Gambling and womanizing no longer hold any appeal for me. I find more than anything I want to be married.” His voice seemed far away, as if he were dreaming aloud, when he continued. “I would like to have children with Miss Moreland. And one day I hope to get my lands back and see to it they are restored to a profitable state.” He peered intensely at Thomas. “But the only woman I could ever desire to marry is your sister. As far as I’m concerned, there is no other woman. I vow I will always be true and constant to her.”
Thomas understood completely. It was as if Sedgewick were describing his own feelings for Felicity. “I admit your behavior has improved:—”
“Since I met Miss Moreland.”
“Yes, quite. I wish I could have assurances you would not return to your former ways.”
George hung his head. “I pray that you allow me to prove myself.”
“How do I know you’re not a fortune hunter?” Thomas hated asking the boy that, but he wanted to see George’s mettle.
George’s hand clenched on the arm of his chair. “Because I don’t want your money. I know that sounds foolish, given that my settlement from you is the principal thing that keeps me from the poor house. But if you were to favor my suit and if Miss Moreland were to favor my suit, I would propose to accept only one marriage settlement from you: the redemption of Hornsby Manor, which you’ll remember, is the Sedgewick estate. Has been for centuries. I would propose to spend every waking minute seeing to the success of the estate. Already I’ve been reading about new labor-saving farming techniques as well as some hybrids that would produce larger crops. You see, I’ve been spending a good bit of time learning about farming. This next phase of my life is going to be serious.”
“I am indeed impressed.” Thomas believed George was earnest. He already had little doubt that George was in love with Dianna. The fellow could no more hide his feelings than he could change his fair coloring. But Sedgewick still had a great deal of growing up to do.
George was silent, his green eyes locked with Thomas’s.
“I believe you are sincere, and I believe you are in love with my sister—not her brother’s money.” Thomas paused. “Are you certain now—and in the years to come—you will not come to regret the marriage because of Dianna’s lack of noble birth?”
“It wouldn’t matter to me if she worked in a bookshop,” George protested. “I would love her still and want to make her the viscountess Sedgewick. I also believe I’ve never known a lady born who is as much the lady as Miss Moreland.”
Thomas smiled. “I believe you, and I give you permission to speak to Dianna, but I cannot sanction a marriage until you demonstrate that gaming no longer holds an attraction for you.”
“How long?”
The poor fellow was terribly in love. “A few months should suffice. If my sister is agreeable to your suit, I would rather the engagement not be made public until your behavior has satisfied me.”
“I can tell you now my behavior will be exemplary,” George said with a smile.
“Since you are here today,” Thomas said, his chest tight, “I am given to believe you have no objection to uniting our houses. If the tables were turned, say, would you object to me marrying one of your sisters?”
George’s brows plunged. “Felicity?”
Thomas nodded, his heart hammering. “I came to Bath because I was in love with her.”
“Does she know?”
Thomas shook his head. “I haven’t had the opportunity to tell her. I had hoped to when we went riding today, but that is impossible now because of the rain.”
A smile broke across George’s face. “I honestly cannot imagine Felicity with anyone else. You two are perfect for each other.”
Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I do know no one could ever cherish her more than I.”
“ ‘Tis exactly how I feel about your sister. Fancy that!”
Thomas stood and offered George his hand. “Don’t let me keep you. I suggest you go and speak with my sister now.”
“Thank you, Moreland.” He started toward the door, and Thomas called to him.
“You’re to take the carriage back to Bath. I can’t have my future brother taking lung fever.”
A smile spread across George’s face as he turned to leave.
Chapter Twenty-five
After waking from her wrenching dream, Felicity was not able to go back to sleep. She lay on her tester bed, listening morosely to the rain’s beat, beat, beat against the windowpane. It seemed as if each time the rain tapped against the window, it carried Thomas farther away from her.
She lay there within the blackness—then later, grayness—of her chamber, somber and blue-deviled.
Eventually Lettie entered with a breakfast tray. “It looks like our prayers for fair skies today weren’t heeded by the Almighty.”
Felicity sat up in bed and shrugged. “I have the most terrible feeling Mr. Moreland slips farther from my reach with each drop of rain.”
“Pooh!” Lettie said, pouring Felicity’s tea. “ ‘Tis only a minor setback. I believe ye will see yer Mr. Moreland today. Mark my words, he will brave the day’s wretched weather to call on ye.” She handed Felicity her tea. “So ye will assuredly want to look yer best today. What dress shall ye wear?”
“The blue,” Felicity said solemnly. “ ‘Tis his favorite on me, though I lack your optimism that Mr. Moreland will come today.”
Lettie busied herself getting Felicity’s blue dress from the linen press. “Ye will never believe what yer brother has gone and done. He not only has taken to rising early, but this morning the daft lad refused his breakfast, donned a big greatcoat, and took off walking through the wet streets of Bath.”
“Whatever could be so important he should want to brave such inclement weather?” Felicity wondered aloud.
Lettie removed stockings from the drawer. “I wasn’t privy to his destination.”
Felicity finished her tea and got out of bed, and Lettie assisted her in getting dressed for the day.
With great disappointment Dianna awoke to the dismal sound of a healthy rain drumming against her windows. I shall not see Lord Sedgewick today, she thought morosely.
She sat up so her maid could place the breakfast tray in front of her. It was Dianna’s custom to take a leisurely breakfast in bed while she perused the day’s post. Her brother kept such erratic hours, the two of them never seemed able to meet for breakfast.
Today Dianna had no desire to leave her bed. The house would be damp and chilly, and she would ha
ve to cover herself in shawls and don wool stockings. Even then she would still be chilled. She thought back to the thatched cottage where she had lived with her parents during her childhood, and she longed for its coziness—but not as much as she longed to see blue skies and Lord Sedgewick today.
She had almost decided not to get out of bed at all when Bryce rapped at her chamber door.
Collette answered it.
Dianna’s heart soared as she listened to his words.
“Lord Sedgewick desires to see Miss Moreland. He awaits her in the drawing room.”
He had come on so horrid a day to see her! Since he had neither horse nor carriage, she wondered if he had come on foot through the sodden mire, the wind and rain slamming against him. Such thoughts troubled her but not enough to dampen her uplifted spirits.
She could scarcely believe her good fortune. Flying from her bed, she began to bark orders at Collette. “Pray, fetch the ivory promenade dress! I should like the ivory boots, too, I think. Oh, do please hurry. You must dress my hair. I want it to look ravishingly beautiful. Do you think you can manage that?”
A smile on her youthful face, Collette answered, “Oui, mademoiselle.”
A half-hour later, Dianna glided into the drawing room, puzzled over the serious expression on Lord Sedgewick’s golden skinned face as he stood and met her gaze. His warm eyes flashed with intensity.
Her heart beat wildly. She was frightened. Was he going to tell her something dreadful? Had he become betrothed to another? Nothing could possibly be worse. She swept gracefully across the carpeted room to give him her hand. “How surprised I am to see you in this wretched weather, my lord.” She winced at how wet his boots were. The man needed to soak his cold feet in a tub of warm water. He must be utterly miserable. She could not bear it.
“I fear I’m a most impatient man,” he said. “I had determined to speak to your brother today, and nothing—not even this dismal weather—could dissuade me.”
Whatever was so important that it couldn’t wait until the skies cleared? she wondered. “Come, my lord, you must sit before the warm fire. I fear this room is far too big and far too cold unless one sits directly in front of the fire.” She moved to scoot a chair closer to the hearth.
“Allow me,” he said. George moved two French chairs near the fireplace; then the two of them sat down.
She was aware of the mere foot that separated them and was reminded of the night he had taken her hand at the musicale. Oddly, she wished he would clasp her hand here and now. Then, suddenly she realized Collette had not come downstairs to chaperon her. And she was enormously glad to be alone with Lord Sedgewick. Perhaps he would take her hand again. Her eyes darted to his wet hair. Wet, it looked more brown than blond. “You must be chilled to the bone, my lord.”
“Actually, I haven’t given it a thought. I’ve had more important things on my mind.”
Her heart pounded. She was seized with fear. His uncommon behavior was most definitely alarming. Of course, she tried to persuade herself, gray skies always had the effect of lowering her spirits. Perhaps that was all it was. “I hope everything goes well for you and your family, my lord.”
Then he smiled. A heart-stopping, spirit-lifting, wonderful smile. “Yes, everything is quite splendid. I’m in fairly high spirits now that I’ve spoken with your brother.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Pray, what could my brother have said to make you so happy?”
George leaned closer to her. She could smell his musk scent, and she could see the fine stubble from where he had shaved that morning. “Can you not guess?” he asked her in a low voice.
Now she looked even more puzzled. “What could my broth—” Before the words were out of her mouth, she had a jubilant thought. Had he? Oh, my. Dare she hope? What if she merely embarrassed herself? In a flash, she thought of all the warm gestures Lord Sedgewick had made to her and of how he never danced with anyone but her.
And all at once she knew. “You offered for me,” she whispered.
He nodded.
She saw the doubt, the fear of rejection in his countenance, and she could not bear for him to think there was any possibility she would reject him. She smiled and teasingly asked, “And what did my brother say to you?”
“He said I was free to declare myself to you, but he would withhold permission to wed until I demonstrate I have reformed.”
She could not remove her eyes from his. “Reformed from what?”
“I regret to say I gamed heavily before I met you.”
“Oh, dear.” Then seeing the troubled look on his face, she added, “It is my desire to accept you, my lord.”
George sprang from his chair, and she rose to meet him. He gathered her into his arms and held her for a moment.
Here in George’s arms is where she wanted to spend the rest of her life. She lifted her face to his, and he lowered his lips to hers for a chaste kiss.
“You have made me the happiest man on earth, my love.”
She reached out her hand to tenderly stroke the side of his golden face. She could not wait until they truly belonged to each other. “I feel the very same, my lord.”
He pulled both her hands to his lips for a nibbling kiss. “You are to call me George now.”
“Yes, George.” She happily basked in whatever it was he was doing to her hands.
“Any number of men would beg for your beautiful hand. I am completely honored that you have chosen me, though I realize I’m not worthy of you.”
“I’ve never noticed any other man since the night I met you. I knew when you walked through our door that you were the only man for me.”
He squeezed her hand. “ ‘Twas the same with me.”
There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Dianna said.
Thomas walked into the drawing room, his gaze resting on his sister and George holding each other’s hand. “I take it my sister is favorable to your suit.”
George turned his smiling face on Thomas. “Indeed, she has made me the happiest of men.”
“And where is your maid, my dear?” Thomas asked Dianna with a wink.
Her eyes widened.
“You silly girl, I told her not to follow you,” Thomas said. “Really, you cannot expect a man to deliver a proposal of marriage when his intended’s maid is present.”
Dressed in Thomas’s favorite blue dress, Felicity sat by the window in the upstairs sitting room reading her slim volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets. She had reread “Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day” so many times, she had learned all the words by heart. And with every new reading, she pictured Thomas the way he had looked that night as he lay in George’s bed, a bandage wrapped around his broad chest. He had known all the words to the sonnet and as he had mouthed them, she allowed herself to imagine he meant the words for her. Something in his demeanor that night had convincingly suggested he associated the sonnet with her.
A knock sounded at her door. “Yes?”
The butler stepped into the room. “You have a caller, Mrs. Harrison.”
Her heart leaped. Thomas had come! A smile on her face, she stood up.
“ ‘Tis Colonel Gordon,” he said.
Her shoulders sagged, as did her voice when she replied. “I’m coming right down.”
The colonel stood when she entered the drawing room.
“My dear Colonel, whatever possessed you to come out on a day like this?”
A thin smile lit his face. “You must remember, my dear, men are not nearly as adverse to a little rain as women are. We don’t have to worry about our skirts or our hair becoming limp.”
She strolled into the room, stiffly offered him her hand and sat on the settee next to his chair. “I do suppose you are right, which could possibly explain my brother’s peculiar behavior. I have been thinking him quite mad. George actually left the house this morning on foot in this wretched weather and hasn’t been seen since. I cannot imagine what could have beckoned him.”
A smile sl
id across the colonel’s face. “I would wager it’s a woman, and I don’t think I’d be far from the mark if I guessed it was Miss Moreland. Such a union—bringing in her hefty portion—would restore your family’s finances. George is being sensible.”
“George would never marry without love!” Felicity protested. “It is my belief he is sincerely attracted to Miss Moreland.”
“I must admit the woman is not at all coarse like her brother.”
Felicity stiffened and shot the colonel a cold glance. “Pray, in what way do you find Mr. Moreland coarse, for I declare I cannot understand what you are speaking of? I find him to be a gentleman in every way.”
His eyes narrowed. “The way the man flaunts his wealth is so bourgeois.”
“I am in no way aware that Mr. Moreland flaunts his wealth,” she said, trying to keep the hostility from edging into her voice.
“Did he not purchase the most opulent estate in this part of England?”
The butler entered the drawing room and met Felicity’s gaze. “Mr. Moreland has called for you, Mrs. Harrison. Is it all right to send him in?”
“Yes,” Felicity said, her heart beginning to dance. The day’s gray skies seemed suddenly brighter.
Seconds later, Thomas stood at the room’s doorway, his glance skirting the chamber. When he saw Colonel Gordon, a frown lowered the corners of his mouth.
He crossed the room and bowed in front of Felicity. “Your servant, Mrs. Harrison.”
She extended her hand.
He took her hand in his, slowly brought it to his mouth, and pressed his lips into her palm.
It was an unbelievably intimate gesture, Felicity thought. “I beg that you sit down, Mr. Moreland.” She was surprised she had found her voice—and even more surprised that it did not tremble.
Thomas then sat on the settee beside her.
She almost broke into laughter at the anger that transformed the colonel’s face. Really, the man was an open book.