“I will never marry anyone but Jonathon. I love him, and he loves me. I do not care that his brother has stolen his money and made him look like a fortune hunter; I love him, and I will marry him. Today,” Felicity declared triumphantly.
“I understand that, darling. I am not here to change your mind,” Carlton assured his daughter. “But if we can take this conversation off the street, I will be most obliged.” The four were already drawing quite a bit of attention, and he had no desire to share his secrets with all of Gretna Green.
“Of course,” Jonathon agreed, tugging Felicity closer to his side. “If we are permitted to marry, I think Felicity will be more than willing to listen,” he added, giving her a stern look when she made a face up at him.
After they reconvened in Felicity and Jonathon’s chosen inn, the duke pulled the battered letter from his waistcoat.
“I suspected, after Lord White’s visit, that the earl was to blame for his brother’s troubles,” Carlton began. “I am terribly sorry for ever considering you a fortune hunter, Mr. White, but you must admit I had my reasons.”
“There are no apologies needed,” Jonathon said softly.
Carlton acknowledged that with a small bow. “Felicity, I am not opposed to you taking this man as your husband,” he continued. “I wanted you to wait because of circumstances that I have been careful to keep from you. I did not want to trouble you with my mistakes, for they are mine and mine alone. However, I should have been honest with you, especially upon our return to London. Instead of vaguely telling you that your happiness had to wait, I should have told you about this.” He waved the letter in the air.
Felicity eyed the letter in concern. “I do not understand, Papa. If it were your own trouble, why would you think it necessary to use it as a reason to keep Jonathon and I apart?”
Sylvia motioned the duke on. “It does concern Felicity, or at least it did. Just tell her, Avondale.”
Carlton saw Jonathon place a hand on Felicity’s shoulder and was immensely grateful for the younger man’s desire to support Felicity. He wanted to cross the room and take his daughter into his arms, but he could tell by her expression that she was still too angry with him.
He doubted that what he was about to tell her would put her in a better mood.
“For the past year I have been waiting for news about a matter that has been taxing my spirit and my accounts,” the duke finally started. “Chattrecombe’s nephew is in the employ of the War Office, and they have been kind enough to look into this matter.”
“What matter, Papa?” Felicity cut in. “Just tell me. I am tired of not knowing.”
Carlton sighed and rubbed his temples, the letter still clutched in his hand. “Twenty-eight years ago, while I was still young and reckless, I took a mistress. It was a short affair, and once over I thought it over. We went our separate ways, and three years later I met your mother and fell in love. I never thought this woman would ever return to haunt me. However, she reappeared two years after your mother died, claiming that her young son was mine. He was six years of age and had black hair; I had no choice but to believe her. I offered to pay her the necessary amount to care for the child, but she insisted she would go public with him if I did not pay her more. Not wanting you to ever find out about my dishonour, and disgusted with myself for siring a bastard child, I consented to the woman’s demands and paid to keep her on the Continent. I have only ever wanted to protect you from my mistake, Felicity.”
Felicity’s expression was bleak as she turned her face away from his anxious gaze.
“But…if you paid her what she wanted, why would she still be an issue?” Jonathon questioned.
“She started demanding more money,” the duke replied sadly. “So much so that I began to lose money each year. I cut back on my expenses, but I knew that if things continued I would lose everything that belongs to Felicity—her dowry, her inheritance, her pride. Then a fire ravaged the village of Avondale, and I dipped into my remaining funds to help my tenants rebuild. As a father, I could not let my daughter marry while I was in doubt that I could give her the dowry she deserved.”
“I would not have cared, Papa,” Felicity stated, tears brimming in her eyes. “If you had told me the truth I would have done everything to help you save money. I did not need so many new dresses every year, or…” She angrily scrubbed her tears away. “I would have helped you, Papa. You should have told me.”
Carlton dipped his head in shame. “I know, darling. I should have trusted you with the truth. I was just so afraid that you would hate me if you knew there was a possibility that I had a bastard child.”
Felicity’s eyebrows drew together and her nose scrunched up. “A possibility?”
Her father nodded. “I waited so long to tell you the truth because I began to doubt. That is why I asked for Chattrecombe’s help. I needed to know if the child—now a man—was truly mine. If I had one more day, I would have told you the truth. I received this,” he held the letter aloft, “just before realizing that you had eloped.”
“And?”
“It took nearly a year for the War Office to locate her. When we returned to London Chattrecombe informed me that they had found her, but were still unsure about her child. That is why I was hesitant to let you marry Mr. White immediately. I wanted to know the truth. If I found out the boy was not mine, I would never need to concern you with my troubles and you could marry Mr. White whenever you both pleased. If it turned out that the boy was mine, I would tell you the truth and hope that you would forgive me for misleading you.”
Felicity huffed. “I understand that, Papa. What did the War Office find?”
“Their agent was able to speak with the man, who informed them that he is Viscount Percival Lyons’s illegitimate son. The current Lord Lyons has continued his father’s payments but has sent them directly to his half-brother, who had no knowledge of his mother’s activities. The man is working with the War Office to determine if any others are involved in this scandal. I would not be surprised if that woman has been dredging half the ton for money.”
She looked relieved. “If he is not yours, then you no longer need to pay her. You do not need to worry about her.”
Carlton nodded. “I wish I had questioned her before, but I was too shamed by my actions. I am so sorry that my past has interfered with your happiness, Felicity.”
He was surprised when Sylvia spoke up in his defence.
“You wanted to protect her from your mistakes,” Lady White stated. “If my eldest son had not made Jonathon look like a fortune hunter, you would not have had to worry about immediately providing Felicity with her dowry. They could have married with our blessing and you could have learned the truth without being so concerned about protecting your daughter.”
“I thank you for that, but I must take responsibility for this,” the duke corrected. “This is my fault. If I had not taken that woman as my mistress twenty-eight years ago, none of this would have happened.”
Felicity made a face that indicated she fully agreed with his statement, but Jonathon shook his head in disagreement.
“You were young, Lord Avondale, and had not yet met Felicity’s mother. You did not know love. If I had not been in the cavalry fighting France, I might have been in the same position,” Jonathon defended. “I was lucky to meet Felicity before I followed in my brother’s example, and took a mistress. If you were the only peer in the ton to do so, you would be at fault. But many, if not most, of the men in the ton have had a mistress at one point or another; many of those do have illegitimate children.”
“That does not make it right,” Felicity muttered.
“No,” Jonathon agreed, “but it might help you see that your father’s mistake would not have been anything out of the ordinary. You are lucky to have a father who only feared one illegitimate child; if my knowledge is correct, the late Lord Percival Lyons had several.”
“But—”
Jonathon cut her off by kneeling before her and
taking her hands in his. “Felicity, your father has done an excellent job of protecting you from the worst of society. Right or wrong, young men are almost expected to take a mistress before marriage. I agree that it is not right, but I understand why many men take advantage of society’s leniency to enjoy the company of the fairer sex. Lust is a powerful force, and one that almost every young man feels. Luckily, love is much more powerful. I did not know that before I met you; I had little time for dalliances, but I did partake of them when I could. I wish I could say that I have never enjoyed the company of another, Felicity, but I cannot. Will you hold that against me?”
“No,” she grumbled. “Not if in the future you are never with anyone but me.”
He smiled and pressed his lips to her hand. “I promise you I will honour our vows, Felicity. I love you. But if you do not hold my past against me, you should not hold your father’s past against him.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip and shot a concerned look towards her father. “Was there ever anyone after Mama?”
“No,” Carlton whispered. “After your mother died I could think of nothing but you, and raising you to be as wonderful as your mother.”
Jonathon reached up to brush away Felicity’s tears. “Can you forgive him his past, love?”
Felicity nodded briskly. “I am sorry, Papa, I just…I always imagined that Mama was the only woman you had ever loved.”
“She was,” Carlton assured her. “Although I suppose I must consider you a woman, now, and I love you. I never make the same mistake twice, Felicity; I will never hide anything from you again. I will never lie to you.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
Jonathon heard his mother sniff and he looked up to see her dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Did you go to London?” he asked her, his tone slightly awed. “You always said you would never go back to London.”
Sylvia shrugged dismissively. “I could not sit idly by and let your brother drag your name through the mud. When we are finished here, I intend to tell everyone what he has done to you.”
“There is no need,” Jonathon insisted. “Gregory had every right to ask me for money. His debts needed to be paid, and for the sake of his honour and mine I paid them.”
“But he continues to gamble away your money,” Sylvia pointed out. “I cannot let him do so, and neither can you. You have a wife to take care of,” she added hesitantly.
Jonathon stood, pulling Felicity up with him. “We are not yet married.”
“Good,” Carlton said, relieved. He tucked the letter back into his waistcoat. “There is a chance this can still be done properly. Did you take her?”
Sylvia made an odd noise in her throat. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” she asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.
“I think as her father I have the right to know if my daughter has been ruined,” Carlton dismissed. “If he did not take her, a proper marriage can still be arranged.”
“I did not take her,” Jonathon stated before the duke could say anything else. His cheeks bore a faint streak of colour. “I would have enjoyed our nights together,” he admitted, “but the only inn we stayed at was…unsuitable.”
Carlton grimaced as Jonathon and Felicity exchanged an amused expression. “Then why did you elope?” He wanted to ask why Jonathon did not try to convince Felicity to remain in London; it was obvious the young man was uncomfortable with the idea of eloping, especially with his sudden defence of his brother and family loyalty.
“It was my idea,” Felicity declared, positioning herself between her father and Jonathon.
“I know.” Carlton’s straightforward reply surprised her. “The Ravenwoods told me. They wanted to make sure I knew you were willing, and that it was Mr. White who was coerced into eloping.”
“I was not coerced,” Jonathon protested.
The duke raised an eyebrow. “But you agreed to her request, despite knowing that her argument was flawed. I know you took your brother into consideration, but as long as you had my support you would not need to go to any extreme measure to protect her from him. Because you love her you still agreed to go with her, despite knowing that eloping would only make you appear more like a true fortune hunter. You would not want that when you are trying to protect your family honour.”
“It does no such thing!” Felicity sputtered, appalled at the notion that Jonathon could be seen as anything but a true gentleman.
“It will not once we return to London and assure everyone that the marriage took place with my consent, and Lady White’s, of course,” Carlton added, nodding to the countess. “If we are lucky our absence will not have been remarked upon, and we can put it about that we went to Avondale for your wedding, instead of Gretna Green.”
“Avondale?”
“It sounds more romantic than eloping in Gretna Green,” Carlton defended. “I realize I might be alone in that thought, but it makes sense that Felicity would want to marry in Avondale. We can return to London, host a reception, and no one in the ton will suspect that the marriage was anything more or less than the desire of two lovers to be married quickly, and privately. Perhaps we can say that Mr. White was so overcome at seeing Felicity returned that he immediately sought me out for her hand.”
“I would have,” Jonathon put in. “Anyone who saw us at the opera will know that I was overcome.”
Felicity warmly smiled up at him and voiced her agreement with the plan. “But are we still getting married today?”
“We are here, aren’t we?” Sylvia smiled wryly. “I always fancied the idea of eloping. It sounds so daring.”
Carlton shook his head in wonder as Felicity exclaimed her concurrence with the countess. “Women are strange creatures,” he remarked to Jonathon. The younger man chuckled and nodded in response, earning him a slapped arm from his mother and his future bride.
Epilogue
Whitethorn House, Yorkshire
December
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“When you said delightfully wicked in a tree, I did not assume this,” Felicity murmured, snuggling closer to Jonathon. The warmth of their bodies was trapped beneath several wool blankets, which provided both cover for them and padding for the wooden floor of the tree fort beneath them.
“A tree fort is the perfect location for watching the stars,” Jonathon pointed out, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Every night we were apart I dreamed of watching the stars with you.”
She rolled onto her side, brushing aside her ebony hair so she could smile across at him. “So did I. Those dreams were nothing to the reality of it, though. I certainly never dreamed of this.” She slid a hand down his chest.
He chuckled, the sound reverberating near her ear, and tightened his hold on her waist. “Dreams often pale in comparison to reality,” he offered. “My dreams of you certainly did.”
Felicity accepted his tender kiss with a soft moan. When they parted she asked, “Do we have to leave tomorrow?”
“Your father has invited us to spend Christmas with him in Avondale. Even my mother will be there,” he pointed out. “As much as I would like to remain here with you, we should spend Christmas with our families, as small as that family might be.” He grimaced, thinking about his brother’s self-imposed exile from the family.
“Family is important,” she consented, a wry smile playing at her lips.
Jonathon raised a questioning eyebrow. “What are you thinking of, my love?”
“What do you want for Christmas?”
The question surprised him. “I thought I already told you what I wanted.”
“You already have me, Jonathon,” she stated softly, a blush rising to her cheeks. The flush brought colour to her moonlit skin, and he admired her for a moment while she searched for the right words to continue.
“You have not spoken ill of anyone since we married,” she finally said. “I am proud of you for that, and of myself for not being unintentionally rude to anyone. Therefore I think we should have
a special gift…maybe a gift for both of us.”
Jonathon grinned and winked at her. “I thought we had just enjoyed that gift, love.”
She acceded the truth of that statement by clearing her throat and lowering her eyes. Recognizing that she really was serious about the gift, he rested his fingers against her cheek and brushed his nose against hers. Felicity reached up to grab his hand and pulled it down to her stomach, her starry eyes overflowing with joy.
“Happy early Christmas, darling,” she whispered. “We are becoming three.”
A
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Fiction as A.N. Stormes:
The White Raven
An old Varlorgian legend states that the sign of the White Raven will herald the end of Thrnv’s power. Thrnv has taken every measure to protect itself: each newborn undergoes a thorough search for the dreaded symbol. When the sign appears on the king’s son, the future of Thrnv lies on his decision. Gengas spares his son’s life, but in so doing he sets his people on an unmarked path that could ultimately lead to Thrnv’s complete destruction.
While Thrnv deteriorates, Unlev flourishes. The heirs of Varlorginar grow strong from Thrnv’s weakness, and when it appears that Thrnv collapses upon itself, Unlev becomes the new front against an old enemy that refuses to die. The kings of Unlev unknowingly befriend the heir of Thrnv while fighting the Terrans, and for a time it appears that the White Raven will follow the path laid out in legend, and desert Thrnv. However, the Terrans hide a secret within their shadowy mountains that could see Thrnv restored to greatness.
Will the battlefields of Unlev see peace created between the heirs of Varlorginar and Thrnv, or will the White Raven disappear into the shadowy mountains of the Terrans, lost forever to his country and the one who holds his soul?
Legend of the White Raven
“THE OWL, THE DOVE, AND THE RAVEN,” a husky voice stated, hushing the rumble of music and speech around him. A lavender eye glowed in the mystical light illuminating the ballroom of Smilloc’s castle, and every figure in the room turned to face the prophet.
To Marry the Duke's Daughter (After the Masquerade) Page 9