Hugh nodded in agreement. Felicia was headstrong and a bit of a hoyden, but she could never be described as mean-spirited or deceitful. In fact, he would be the first to call out anyone making such false claims about her.
"What will happen to Felicia?" Hugh asked. "I mean, if this curse were actually real?"
Julian seemed to grimace. "She will spend the rest of her days alone, loving someone who is wed to another."
Hugh wanted to groan. He could consign Felicia to a life of spinsterhood, an existence she neither deserved nor was suited for. Or he could cry off from his nuptials, causing Penelope untold embarrassment, while creating a scandal that would disrupt Lucinda's life even further.
It had seemed like such a simple quest, finding the perfect mother for his child. But now. . .
He held out his glass towards Julian, wishing the man was dispensing wisdom, not merely brandy.
~ * ~
Hugh left the club and entered his waiting carriage, signaling the coachman to head toward home. He settled into the cushions, watching the blurry scenery passing, wondering if perhaps he had been cursed too.
It was the only excuse for these impractical, impossible thoughts of going to Penelope's father and asking to be let out of his contractual obligation.
His body urged him to throw caution to the wind, and damn the consequences to his daughter's future, hoping he could somehow arrange things for the best. Years ago he would have eagerly followed such counsel.
But now, his heart and mind despised the mere thought of it. Unlike his own selfish parents, once he knew of his responsibility, he had changed his wild lifestyle. His family's curse—choosing scandal and impropriety over a child's needs—would stop with him, no matter what he might desire instead.
Hugh dropped his head in his hands. He would tell Felicia, once and for all, that this madness had to stop. It might not halt the unrealistic notions residing in his mind, nor cease his body overheating at the mere mention of her name.
She might not ever forgive him for causing her a lifelong heartache.
But at least he could spend the rest of his days knowing he had been a parent whose affections did not waver when presented with the latest temptation.
The carriage stopped at his townhouse and he exited, trudging up the stairs to the front door. He was not as joyous as he had hoped by his decision. In truth, his rebellious body refused to accept his choice. But he knew he could overcome that, eventually.
He would arrange to meet with Penelope's father, to dispel any gossip that might have reached Mr. Lansdale over Felicia's high-spirited pursuit.
Hugh could even appeal to the man as a father. They both had their daughters' future wellbeing in mind, didn't they? Hugh was buying respectability, while Mr. Lansdale was gaining a title for his child.
Before Hugh could congratulate himself on his strategy, Haselton greeted him at the open door. "Good day, my lord. You have visitors."
Hugh nearly growled. "I am not at home to visitors today."
"I have shown them to the blue parlor," Haselton continued as if Hugh had not spoken. "And I am having tea brought in."
Hugh exhaled a heavy breath. "Who is awaiting me then?"
"Miss Lansdale. And her father."
CHAPTER NINE
Felicia set her teacup in the saucer and then closed her eyes for a brief moment. She was alone in the breakfast parlor, so she could indulge in yet another remembrance of her kiss with Hugh.
She loved the stirrings it provoked each time she thought of how tightly he had held her, and the intensity of his passion. She shivered, making her wish she had brought her Paisley shawl with her that morning.
In her heart, she knew she should stop her pursuit of Hugh. She could see his anguish whenever she tried to approach him. He had become quite adept at leaving a room as soon as she entered it. She would have found it amusing had she not been desperate to apologize for causing him such distress.
How could she be happy knowing the man she loved was experiencing such turmoil, and at her hand? That was a curse worse than any other.
Felicia's eyes shot open at the sound coming from the doorway. She grinned when she saw Great-Aunt Aurore scurrying in, barely able to contain her glee. Aurore headed towards the sideboard and filled a plate with shirred eggs, numerous slivers of ham, and at least four slices of toast.
"Great-Aunt, shall I ring a footman to carry your plate to the table for you?"
She spun towards Felicia, her eyebrows raised questioningly. Felicia merely nodded towards the plate which was piled so high it appeared to be a serving platter.
"Oh dear, I am so distracted." Aurore tried to put a hand to her forehead, but the plate dipped precipitously.
Felicia jumped up and grabbed the dish with both hands just in time to prevent certain disaster.
They both blew out their breath in relief, and then giggled like conspirators. Felicia would let Great-Aunt fortify herself, and then she would inform her what she planned next on the rocky path towards true love.
Perhaps she should fortify herself as well, since it was not likely her aunt would agree with her decision.
Julian entered the room, a grin on his face. "I suppose I could ask what new activity you have devised for breakfast, but I am not certain I want to know."
Felicia chuckled. "Great-Aunt Aurore is in dire need of nourishment for some reason." She followed her aunt and set the plate on the mahogany table. "I would swear she is bursting with a secret."
Felicia reseated herself, across from her aunt, and gave her a meaningful stare. Great-Aunt Aurore attacked her food as if completely unaware of her niece's thirst for knowledge. Felicia cleared her throat to get her attention.
"You shall have to remove the plate if you wish her to spill her secret," Julian said, his eyes twinkling.
Felicia sipped her tea. "I suppose you are right about that. Or," she said, leaning forward to catch her aunt's attention, "I could tell you something I heard last night while attending the Johnstone's ball."
Great-Aunt Aurore perked up. Even the hint of gossip was enough to catch her interest. If only Felicia had something to actually divulge. She wracked her brain for any tidbit she might have overheard, but for some reason she could think of nothing. It would be a good idea to keep something tucked away for future bribery efforts.
Gossip was always the best currency where her aunt was concerned.
"Perhaps I could help you," Tony said as he strolled in.
Felicia would have reacted with surprise except that Tony claimed his chef was on an extended vacation, which necessitated him dining at their house each day. It wasn't that he was not welcome. It was just amusing how everyone pretended Tony had a chef, even one who was supposedly on a vacation that had started two years previously.
Great-Aunt Aurore's eyes lit up at Tony's words, the same way he did whenever a wager was mentioned.
"So what news do you have that will pry Great-Aunt's secret from her?" Felicia asked. "I have tried without success several times."
Tony set a cup and saucer on the table, turning the cup so he could pick it up by the handle. He took a sip of coffee, and his face was the picture of pure bliss. "I wish my chef could make coffee like this."
"Yes, yes, we will be happy to send round the recipe," Felicia said, impatient to hear the latest on dit. Tony's news was bound to be juicy, since people had a tendency to spill all sorts of confidences while they were in their cups at the gambling tables.
And once Tony informed them of his gossip, she could hear Great-Aunt Aurore's mysterious information, even though her beaming face was making it difficult to keep anything confidential.
"I heard on good authority," Tony finally said, "from the man himself, that Lord Wastrel is no longer engaged to be married."
Felicia's cup shattered on the floor. Julian choked on something. And Great-Aunt Aurore wailed, "That was my news!"
~ * ~
"Julian, surely you can see the importance of this infor
mation!"
Her brother settled himself behind his desk before answering. "Felicia, I do not wish to dash your hopes, but just because Hugh is no longer engaged does not mean he wishes to be wed to you."
She would not allow her enthusiasm to be dampened. Her heart soared, since she was closer to marrying Hugh, and just when she had nearly given up hope.
In truth, she had given up hope. Thankfully the curse had other plans for her.
"We can at least go speak with him," Felicia said, stopping her excited pacing of the library carpet.
"To what end?"
"We should give him our sympathy, of course."
It would help assuage her guilt at the part she had played in his broken engagement. Though when she remembered the kiss they'd shared in the park. . .
"And then you shall immediately offer yourself as the next Lady Weyson?"
"Julian! What an excellent idea. If only I had thought of it myself."
"You minx. You may fool others with that nonsense, but it does not work with me."
"It is this curse. I have not been myself ever since it descended upon me. But surely you can see that Hugh and I are meant to be together. This proves it more than ever."
"What it proves," he said with a decided frown, "is your antics drove a wedge between Hugh and his betrothed."
Felicia frowned right back at him. "Julian, honestly, you have no romance at all in your heart. I hope you are never cursed as I have been. You would not have the fortitude to handle this as well as I have."
"Fortitude?" he sputtered. "Is that how you describe yourself? I suppose it's a marked improvement over 'Flighty Felicia'."
He studied her for several moments, as if trying to determine just how serious she was about this proposition.
"Julian, please," she whispered.
"And what if he wants nothing to do with you? What then?"
Felicia did not want to consider the possibility, but she knew it would be wise, if only to prepare herself for countering Hugh's potential objections.
"He would be marrying the sister of a Duke," she reminded him.
"I do not believe he is concerned with titles. His is an old and respectable one. Despite his parents' concerted efforts to tarnish it."
She tried to think of any other qualities that proved she was the best choice. She was nothing like Miss Lansdale, but since it was obvious the pair had been entirely unsuited for each other, Felicia counted herself fortunate to be so completely different from his former betrothed.
Ultimately she had only one real qualification: her unwavering love for him.
"I have to make this one last attempt," she finally admitted. She also uttered a fervent prayer for success. How could she bear to live the rest of her days loving Hugh if he was wed to another woman someday? She had barely endured his first betrothal. She could not be expected to go through that experience again.
"You are absolutely certain this is what you want?"
Felicia knew capitulation when she heard it, despite the doubt still lingering in her brother's eyes. She ran around the corner of the desk and threw her arms around him.
Julian heaved a sigh, returning the hug. "I am powerless to deny you."
"Do not fret. There is no one with that power at their disposal." She laughed at his mock exasperation. "Thank you, Julian."
"Do not attempt to curry favor by calling me your favorite brother."
"I promise not to do any such thing." She pasted a kiss on his forehead. "Even though you are."
CHAPTER TEN
Haselton led Felicia and Julian to the blue parlor, a room Felicia had been in many times during her youth. She was glad they had been shown to this room since it set off her ensemble to perfection. She had dressed with a great deal of care, ensuring she was not only looking her best, but that she appeared to be respectable, and demure, and all manner of things she was not usually named.
She paced in front of the bow window, her stomach fluttering with excitement. She sat down on the settee and then jumped back up. She could not settle her nerves.
It was past time for this new phase of her life to commence. Especially since until recently she had thought it might never occur.
She fanned herself with one hand, and then sat down once more. She had been too elated to eat this morning, and now she was feeling faint. Julian gave her a concerned look, his raised eyebrows silently asking if she was going to survive the experience.
What was taking Hugh so long? Surely Haselton had announced their presence. She bolted out of her seat, one foot headed towards the door.
Julian stood as well. "Felicia?"
Before he could say anything else, the door opened. Hugh stood there, his face blank, although it appeared as though he struggled to maintain the expression.
Felicia did not know how to interpret it. She tilted her head to consider the possibilities, but then the room started to spin. She put her hand out, feeling for the chaise she had just left. Hugh darted to her side before Julian could reach her.
"Just a few more paces. There you are." Hugh smiled with such gentleness that Felicia felt lightheaded again. "I'll ring for some tea." His lips tilted into a grin. "Unless you are in the mood for something stronger."
She was not at all prepared for this playful version of Hugh. It had been too long since she had seen that side of his personality.
"I think tea shall suffice," she murmured. "But please, have the servants search for Lord Weyson. I must warn him someone is attempting to impersonate him."
He burst out laughing. "That sounds impossible."
She gave him a look that had once been described, and by him, as sour. "It would be a much easier feat if you were to scowl and frown at me."
Hugh started to laugh, but then narrowed his eyes until they were nearly closed. He leaned in, still seated next to her. "Is that more like the real Lord Weyson?"
"It is similar," she said with a chuckle. "Although I believe you also need to curl your lip." She reached over and touched the corner of his mouth. "Just the smallest bit. Yes! You are a quick study. But you had best be careful. He will be sending you out in his place, to all the events he does not care to attend."
Julian laughed, startling Felicia. She had quite forgotten her brother was in the room with them. "I do not believe the world is ready for two Lord Weysons."
"I agree. As much as I fancy the idea, we will have to make do with just one of me." Hugh clasped Felicia's hands, smoothing his thumbs over the back of her gloves, and for a moment she imagined he wished he could touch her skin instead. "Are you feeling better?"
She pulled her hands back. Why was he being so solicitous? She glanced at Julian, but he merely lifted one shoulder. He had no more idea than she did what caused this merriment, and so soon after the announcement of his broken engagement.
Was it possible he was glad to be free of his obligation to Miss Lansdale? Her heart leapt with joy at the curse finally giving her something to celebrate. They would be posting their banns any day now.
Felicia sat up, smoothing the folds of her skirt but keeping her eyes locked on Hugh's. His lips tilted up in a smile. If she did not know better, she would think he could divine her thoughts. Which really wasn't so difficult, as she had been told her face gave away every one of her emotions, so he merely had to study her expression for a brief moment.
She dropped her eyes to gather her composure. When she was ready, she looked up at him and said solemnly, "Hugh, I am sorry to hear your engagement has ended."
To her complete astonishment, he tilted his head back and laughed. "Felicia, that is the biggest untruth I have ever heard you utter. And I have heard you tell quite a few through the years, especially if it saved you from a scolding."
Felicia grimaced, shaking her head slightly in warning. Hugh's grin just widened. She turned to Julian. "You know what a tease Hugh can be," she attempted.
Julian merely rolled his eyes. "Do not think for a moment any of this is a surprise to me."
She cleared her throat and returned her attention to Hugh. She lifted his hand, and pinched hard on the spot between his thumb and forefinger. He bit his lip, but whether from the pain she was attempting to inflict, or amusement, she could not say. She did know she had his undivided attention.
"I, well, we—Julian and I—have come today to suggest a solution to your current dilemma."
"My dilemma."
"I know you have need of a wife, and since my actions likely contributed to Miss Lansdale crying off—" She took a deep breath. "I would like to present myself as the next Lady Weyson."
Hugh blinked, several times, but he did not say a word. She had rendered him speechless. What if he had suffered an apoplectic fit? A silent one. She pinched his hand, to see if he had retained any of his speaking abilities.
"Dash it all, Felicia. Stop pinching me."
He snatched his hand away, giving it a shake.
She heaved a sigh of relief. At least he had not suffered any permanent brain injury. Yet he had not answered her question either.
"It makes complete sense," she continued. He was most likely ready to acquiesce, so she gave him one last little push. "I have need of a husband, and I think we get on well—"
"When you are not pinching me, you mean."
"Stop being such an infant, Hugh. I did not even put all of my strength into it."
"Julian, what kind of she-devil have you raised?"
This was not proceeding the way she had planned. By now Hugh should have fallen to his knees in gratitude, smothering her hand with ardent kisses while declaring the depths of his love and passion. Instead he was stalking across the room to glare at her.
He had been more amenable to her proposal of marriage at his betrothal ball.
Felicia blinked, trying to halt the frustrated tears before Hugh noticed them. Why could he not see how perfect they were for each other? They could laugh together, at least when he was not scowling, and they enjoyed each other's company, when he was not scowling.
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