Before Felix could respond, Luc joined them and shook his friend’s hand.
“Knew I should have stayed with you,” he said, smirking as he regarded Felix’s injuries.
Once again Felix was prevented from responding as Josh joined the group.
“Hello, Mr. Beaumont,” he said, apparently too full of his own news to notice Felix’s battered state. “Their lordships have been helping me to fish, but the girls didn’t want to join us, so they’ve gone walking in the woods with her ladyship and Mama. I think they’re picking wild flowers to put in Amy’s hair.” He wrinkled his nose at the thought of such passive activities.
Felix smiled and ruffled his hair. “Hello, old chap. How many fish have you caught?”
“Only two so far. Do you want to help us?”
“Tomorrow, perhaps.”
“Good!” With that he trotted happily back to his rod, which was being held by a footman.
Lord Western told Felix and Luc all he’d learned from Smithers. None of the people who’d been captured were prepared to admit to any knowledge of importing slaves, aware, naturally, that the penalties would be severe. Even Johnson and Charles Barker were keeping quiet on the subject, but were willing to supply any amount of information on Barker’s other illicit activities.
“Unless we are prepared to offer them immunity in return for their intelligence, then I think they’re unlikely to talk. But I, for one, would be reluctant to take such a step when it’s obvious that they’ve been fully involved themselves.”
“I agree, Father, but what other option do we have?”
“Well, we can prosecute them on the smuggling charges and, of course, for your kidnap. But again, you see, they will attest that you entered that ship with criminal intent. It’s something of a farrago, I fear.” Lord Western rubbed his chin, highly agitated. “The only bright note is that Barker’s operation in Burton Bradstock is over. No one will risk dealing with him, now, and no one of significance will wish to receive him. But there’s still nothing to prevent him from starting up again elsewhere.”
“What sentence can we expect him to receive for what we can prove against him?”
“Hard to say. Doubt that we have enough, though, as things stand, even to get him transported.”
“So I’ve failed.” Felix was unable to hide his bitter disappointment. “All these risks have been for naught.”
“No, Felix, not failed, I — ”
“Felix, whatever has happened to you?” He hadn’t heard Clarissa, Saskia, and the children join the group. “Oh my dear, how are you?” Clarissa appeared horrified.
“Pray, don’t overset yourself, Clarissa, it’s nothing.” He kissed her cheek before holding out his hand to Saskia, who accepted it without hesitation.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked. “We’ve been so worried about you.” Her lovely green eyes, full of concern — and Felix fervently hoped, something more — assessed his injuries with a horrified shudder.
“I’m perfectly all right. Please don’t worry about me.”
She smiled. “It’s a little late for that.”
He peered round the ladies and grinned. “And who have we here, I wonder?”
Rosie and Amy ran to him. Ignoring the protests from his injuries, he bent down to speak to them both. “Hello, sweethearts, did you pick those flowers for me?”
“Do gentlemen like flowers, Mr. Beaumont?” Josh asked, doubt in his voice.
“He’s not Mr. Beaumont anymore, Josh,” Amy said bossily. “Mama explained it all us, remember? He is a lordship too.”
“Well,” said Felix easily, “this lordship likes flowers very much if they’re picked for him by his favourite girls.” Rosie and Amy, both now beaming broadly, offered up their wilting posies, and Felix gravely accepted them.
“I have an idea, girls,” Clarissa said. “Why do we not seek out Miss Adams and see if she will show us how to press the flowers? Then Uncle Felix will be able to keep them forever.”
Two little girls, two dogs, and even Josh, fishing abruptly abandoned, loped off toward the house, Clarissa scurrying to keep pace with them. Lord Western and Luc diplomatically returned to their fishing and left Saskia and Felix alone.
They regarded one another for several minutes without speaking. It was Saskia who finally broke the silence.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Without your interference I would have been forced by necessity to return to Southview Manor. As it is, my aunt and I should be able to run her establishment now without any external sabotage.”
He smiled at her and reclaimed her hand. “That won’t be necessary. Your aunt’s stipend will be restored to her, and there should be something for you, as well, from your late-husband’s estate. Luc’s brother, Anthony, is an attorney, and he’s looking into the matter.”
“That’s very obliging of him.” Her translucent smile lit up her huge eyes, and it took all of Felix’s willpower not to sweep her into his arms and kiss her witless.
“Well,” she said, unaware of the nature of Felix’s concupiscent thoughts, “at least now I shall be able to return home and not concern myself with thoughts of the future. I think we will leave tomorrow, if it can be arranged.”
Felix was aghast. “Please stay.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think it would be for the best if we left.”
“You haven’t enjoyed your stay here?”
“Indeed, yes! How could one fail to appreciate such a beautiful house? But I wouldn’t wish to outstay our welcome.”
Felix was alive to her slight hesitation, her careful choice of words, and understood her problem immediately. His mother had doubtless made little attempt to disguise her disapproval. He cursed inaudibly before addressing her again.
“Please stay a little longer.” He summoned up his most persuasive smile. “I promised to fish with Josh tomorrow, and besides, we must still find a moment to have that conversation, remember?”
“All right, since I’m so very obliged to you, I don’t see how I can refuse. But only a day or two more. My aunt will have need of me.”
“Thank you.”
He patted the hand which now rested on his arm, and together they turned onto the lawns only to find all of the ladies seated there taking tea. As one they turned in Felix’s direction, and all conversation was momentarily suspended. Just as quickly they all started talking again at once, several of them rising to their feet and covering their mouths in alarm at the sight of Felix’s injuries. Lady Western dashed forward to meet him, closely followed by her daughters and, inexplicably, Lady Maria Denby. Lady Maria had never before demonstrated initiative of any sort, and was far too timid to put herself forward without encouragement. Felix sighed. It was proof positive of his mother’s less than subtle hand.
Lady Western declared that their own apothecary should be summoned at once, since she would find no peace until she’d been personally assured that her son’s injuries were not life-threatening. Felix was pulled from one lady to another, soon to be swallowed up within their midst, all contact with Saskia broken.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Felix became conscious of a lady at the edge of the group staring fixedly at him, her expression concerned but otherwise entirely predatory. Angelica Priestley, beautiful yet deadly in cream muslin, had him firmly in her sights. Felix’s supply of exasperated sighs seemed inexhaustible that afternoon, and he instinctively expelled yet another. He was appalled that she should be here, now of all times. She tilted her parasol by way of greeting, and sauntered away.
That evening, Felix, impeccably turned out by Perkins, entered the drawing room to find everyone already gathered there. His eye immediately searched out Saskia. She was wearing her changeable silk gown and was seated beside Clarissa. That particular gown had looked spectacular at the ball in Burton Bradstock and, to Felix’s eye, was just as lovely in this setting. But he could tell by the openly scathing looks which were being cast upon her by some of the other ladies
present that his opinion was in the minority.
Anxious to reach her side, Felix could scarce conceal his frustration as he was waylaid at every step with enquiries as to his injuries and requests for firsthand accounts of how they’d been sustained. Punctilious as ever, Felix answered with every appearance that his questioner was holding his complete attention; thus it was sometime before he was able to reach Saskia.
Finally managing it, he lifted her gloved hand and brushed it against his lips.
“At last!” he breathed quietly. “Good evening, Mrs. Eden. You look ravishing.”
Saskia responded with something resembling a snort.
“M’dear,” he drawled, “you put them all to shame. I wish I could tell you what I — ”
“Lord Western.”
Felix frowned and turned slowly, well recognising the voice that had the audacity to interrupt his hard-earned conversation with Saskia.
“Lady Towbridge.” Felix bowed, but for once even his exquisite manners were insufficient to conceal his irritation.
So it went on. Naturally, his mother engineered it so that he escorted Lady Maria into dinner. He noticed, with relief, that Luc had placed himself at Saskia’s disposal, both escorting her in and ensuring that she was entertained for the duration of the meal. He felt impotent, seated close to his mother and deliberately, he felt certain, as far away from Saskia as the table would permit. The meal seemed endless and was an agony for him. His mother and sisters lost no opportunity in promoting Lady Maria, treating her as though she were a part of the family, their union a foregone conclusion. Felix set his jaw in a stubborn line of determination. His mother would soon be gravely disappointed.
What Felix couldn’t know was that there was one other person at the table, watching his mother’s efforts with interest, determined to assist the match in any way she could. Angelica had been in a dither of excitement when she received her prized invitation to this house party, having deliberately befriended Lady Western for that precise purpose. Working on the assumption that absence would make the heart grow fonder, she’d imagined Felix would be delighted to see her again, and had been devastated by his thinly-veiled guise of indifference. She was unaccustomed to failure, and the fact that Felix was less than enamoured by her presence only served to make her want him more. Now, if he were to marry that silly Denby girl, all would be well between them again. One such as she couldn’t possibly hold the attention of someone with tastes as exotic as Felix’s for more than five minutes, and then…
Conscious that her husband’s curious gaze was focused upon her from across the table, Angelica suspected that she’d momentarily permitted the burning desire she entertained for Felix to become apparent. Collecting herself, she offered her husband a dazzling smile but continued to brood. Felix had clearly acquired a tendre for that little red-haired hussy, the one with those awful freckles and home-made gowns. But Angelica couldn’t bring herself to believe it would be lasting, and dismissed Saskia from her mind as an irritating insignificance. She was no threat to her plans whatsoever.
The meal did finally come to an end. Felix was torn between dragging out the port and delaying the gentlemen’s return to the drawing room, where his scheming mother was sure to be hatching further stratagems for his entrapment, and an equally urgent desire to rejoin Saskia at the earliest possible moment.
When they did return to the ladies, one or two of them took little persuading to play for the company, Lady Maria conspicuous amongst them. After the third indifferent performance, Earl Western remarked to Saskia that he understood she played. Would she oblige them? Felix observed the outraged expression on his mother’s face, which was quickly replaced by a calculating look and a sweet reiteration of her husband’s request. They were the kindest words he’d thus far heard his mother utter to Saskia, and Felix knew it was because she assumed Saskia wouldn’t be equal to the task of performing in such august company. She would either demure, which would make her appear impolite and ungracious when the earl had specifically called upon her, or she would be so nervous that her performance would be abysmal, showing her up for the inconsequential nobody his mother clearly considered her to be. Felix’s lips twitched, and he contained his mirth only with the greatest difficulty.
Felix rose with effortless grace and offered to escort Saskia to the instrument. She declared that she was disinclined to play, unwittingly playing into his mother’s hands. One look in her direction confirmed the fact. She was maintaining a polite façade, but couldn’t help exchanging smugly satisfied looks with her daughters. Felix wasn’t about allow his mother’s spitefulness to damage Saskia; he smiled an entreaty into her eyes, urging her to play. Seemingly aware that every pair of eyes in the room was trained upon them, and possibly surmising as well that Felix was perfectly capable of maintaining such an indiscreetly intimate expression until he bent her to his will, Saskia nodded once and rose to her feet with a grace to equal his own.
Saskia chose Bach again this evening, and Felix almost laughed aloud at his mother’s horrified expression. The applause for Saskia was prolonged, led by Earl Western, Luc and, of course, Felix. Basking in Saskia’s success, he offered his mother a raised eyebrow and ironic little smile, to which she responded with an irritated frown.
None of the other ladies who’d planned to play wished to do so now, and the party broke up into smaller groups. Several people strolled out onto the terrace. Saskia wasn’t slow to follow their example. Nonchalantly, Felix followed her from a different door a short time later. At last he would have her to himself, and they could talk properly.
He’d not progressed ten paces across the deserted side terrace before a familiar perfume assailed his nostrils. A well-manicured hand reached out and touched his shoulder.
“Looking for me, darling?” Angelica asked sweetly.
“Not with your husband about,” he said, more dismissively than he’d intended.
“That didn’t concern you at our last meeting.”
A shadow crossed her lovely face, causing Felix to feel rather ashamed at his treatment of her. He was well aware that he’d used her badly. She had not been given her congé and had every right to assume that she was still his mistress. Besides, he was mindful of his father’s warning about the matter, and didn’t wish to cause unnecessary difficulties by oversetting a woman who could, he felt sure, be very spiteful when disappointed. A mellowness, in direct proportion to the guilt he was experiencing, engulfed him. He rested his good arm against the wall behind her, smiled properly at her for the first time that day, and asked her how she’d been.
Saskia, temporarily alone on the main terrace, cursed herself for being such a fool. She should have stuck to her guns and insisted upon returning home tomorrow. She knew all too well that she wasn’t really welcome in this house. Felix’s mother had made that abundantly clear in hundreds of not-so-subtle ways. With the exception of Clarissa, all the other ladies had shunned her, looking down upon her and succeeding in their efforts to make her feel inconsequential. Her triumph at the piano half-an-hour ago had offered her a brief respite from her feelings of inferiority, but no more than that. She would never forget the horrified look on Lady Western’s face, and had an uneasy feeling that she’d be made to pay for her moment centre stage.
She looked about her with true regret. She would have liked to remain a little longer and enjoy Felix’s company — and his father’s too. The earl’s behaviour toward her was courteous and charming. It was easy to see where Felix had acquired his own poise. She could tell that the earl enjoyed the twins’ company as well. There were also six unattached gentlemen at this house party, and all of them appeared to find her company diverting. One or more of them sought her out at every opportunity. She had not experienced anything like it before, and would be fooling herself if she pretended not to find their attentions flattering. She knew some of the other ladies had noticed their preference for her, possibly accounting for their hostility. She wanted to scream aloud that they had noth
ing to fear from her. She was not interested in any of them…except Felix. But, ever since his true identity had been revealed to her, she’d been sensible enough to realize there could be no future for them.
She gazed up at the velvety sky and sighed. She would keep her word to Felix, as she owed him that much, and would stay for the two days more that she’d promised. Then she would take the twins back home. Things would be easier now that their monetary problems were at an end. She could arrange a good school for Josh, a governess for Amy. She recalled yet again that this was only possible because of Felix’s efforts on her behalf. She would seek him out, tell him of her decision, thank him once more, and leave him to enjoy Lady Maria’s blushes. She was obviously the lady his family intended for him, and Saskia couldn’t bear to stand by and watch it happen.
Turning the corner of the terrace, still deep in thought, she was conscious of being no longer alone. A gentleman with thick brown curls had his back toward her. He was talking to someone. She heard deep laughter ring out, echoed by the more delicate, mocking tones of a lady. It was Felix, of course, but before she could make her presence known, he dropped his head and kissed his companion lightly on the lips. The lady, Saskia realized with horror, was Angelica Priestley, one of her foremost critics. Saskia didn’t realize that she’d gasped, but she must have done so, for they pulled guiltily apart and looked in her direction. She was too quick for them, though, and escaped in the direction from which she’d come before they realized who had discovered them.
Saskia only slowed to a walk when she saw a gathering of other guests nearby. She forced herself to adopt a carefree expression, ignoring the feelings of anguish which appeared intent upon ripping her apart. Felix was, of course, free to kiss whomsoever he chose, and Saskia was well aware that a lady’s marital status was unlikely to deter many gentlemen of his class. There was nothing between Felix and herself, and never could be. Had she not already told herself as much? So why these feelings of betrayal and humiliation?
Wendy Soliman Page 17