by Jen Turano
Felicia grinned. “Really, Daniel, where are your manners? Surely you must realize it’s hardly appropriate to inquire about a lady’s bursting propensities.”
Daniel returned the grin. “You have to admit, something bursting is entirely too intriguing not to inquire about, and I’m sure I’ve asked you inappropriate things over the years.”
“True, but I’m your sister. Agatha hasn’t been blessed with any brothers, so watch yourself, if you please.”
“We’re supposed to be watching you.”
Felicia opened her mouth to dismiss that ridiculous notion when Robert suddenly shouldered Jeffrey aside, took her by the arm, and gave her a good tug.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“We’re going to go dance. Now.”
She dug in her heels. “I’m not dancing with you. You’re my brother.”
“You always dance with me.” Robert gave her arm another tug.
Felicia shrugged out of his hold. “What is the matter with you?”
“You’re being ogled, right here and now, by those gentlemen standing at the bottom of the stairs—and in a blatant manner, even though you’re standing in the midst of your brothers.”
Felicia shot a glance to where Robert was glaring, and sure enough, there was a whole crowd of gentlemen staring her way.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to make the claim they’re ogling me.”
“It looks like a slight case of ogling to me,” Zayne said as he slipped up behind them and smiled as he nodded to Robert. “Take it from a man who’s been cursed with a beautiful sister—you might as well get used to the attention, especially as it would seem Felicia has abandoned her former appearance and turned into a lovely butterfly.”
He turned to Felicia and held out his arm. “Shall we get off the stairs? I do believe we’re blocking the way to the ballroom.”
Felicia took his arm, waited for Agatha to take the other, and then they climbed the remaining stairs before moving across the large landing and into the ballroom, all of her brothers following her closely. She let go of Zayne’s arm and turned.
“You don’t need to stay with me all night.”
Daniel smiled all too innocently. “Of course we do. Mother’s orders. Heaven forbid you manage to land yourself in more trouble because we’re not around to stop you.”
There was absolutely no reason to respond to that piece of absurdity. Felicia turned back to Zayne. “It seems as if everyone has returned to town to bid you farewell. When do you leave?”
“Right after the Fourth of July. I was planning on leaving a little sooner than that, but Piper wanted me to help her with a fireworks display, and I’ve never been able to resist any of Piper’s requests.” He smiled. “I also didn’t want to miss the church picnic that day. It’s always so much fun to watch the bidding of the baskets.” He turned toward Agatha. “Are you putting a basket up for bid this year?”
Felicia noticed Agatha was turning a little pink, or perhaps her coloring was still a direct result of Mrs. Brombel’s special potions.
“I might,” Agatha said. “Although I will admit that every single time I enter a basket, I have this horrible fear it’ll just sit there without a single bid.”
“I’ll bid on it, Miss Watson,” Daniel said, stepping forward. “You just tell me which one it is, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Felicia bit back a grin when Zayne’s eyes turned stormy. She cleared her throat. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Daniel.”
“Why not?”
Felicia sent a pointed look to Agatha, who returned the look with one of confusion.
“Grace,” Felicia mouthed.
“Good heavens, I forgot all about that,” Agatha muttered. She smiled at Daniel. “Perhaps it would be for the best if you didn’t bid on my basket, but I can’t exactly disclose the reasoning at the moment.” She turned to Zayne. “You can bid on it though, and make certain it’s a respectable bid.”
Daniel looked around. “Is anyone else as confused as I am?”
“I’m not confused in the least,” Felicia said before she grabbed Robert’s arm and began pulling him toward the ballroom floor, looking over her shoulder. “Well, isn’t someone going to bring Agatha along?”
It didn’t escape her notice that even though Jeffrey and Daniel moved forward, Zayne was the first to grab hold of Agatha and lead her after them.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to dance with me,” Robert muttered.
“True, I did say that,” Felicia admitted, “but I changed my mind.”
“I have no idea who you are anymore, Felicia.”
“I’m the same woman I’ve always been, Robert, just better garbed.”
Robert swung her around once they reached the dance floor and took her hand in his. “You’re not; you’re different.”
“And you don’t like me different.”
“I didn’t say that,” Robert countered. “I’m just not used to you being . . . happy.”
Now, that was an unusual observation.
Before she had an opportunity to reply, the music began and Robert steered her around the room, complaining every so often about her apparent impression she was the one who ought to lead. By the time they left the dance floor, her good humor had been restored and she was suddenly anxious to seek out Grayson, if only to make certain he’d recovered from their little adventure and from finally admitting to everyone the truth regarding his past.
Unfortunately, he did not seem to be in attendance.
She was always aware of when he was in her vicinity—something she just then realized—because the air always seemed to be charged with little bursts of something disturbing. At the moment, the air felt perfectly normal.
“No more dancing for me,” Agatha mumbled as she joined Felicia. “The itching it caused wasn’t worth the pleasure, and I think another hive burst.” She scratched at her arm for a moment and then glanced around, her eyes widening ever so slightly. “Felicia, do you know that gentleman over there, the one who seems to be staring at us?”
Felicia turned her head, her gaze skimming over the crowd and settling on a gentleman she thought Agatha might have been referring to, but the moment their eyes met, he spun around and disappeared through the crowd. “He must have mistaken us for someone else.” She reached out and grabbed Agatha’s hand. “Stop scratching. You’ll only make it worse.”
“But it’s driving me insane.”
“You need something to distract you. Tell me, have you seen Grayson?”
“Grayson is your distraction, not mine.”
It seemed he was indeed.
“Have you seen him?” she repeated.
Agatha grimaced. “I don’t think he’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t think he’s coming.”
Disappointment was immediate. “But . . . why?”
“I stopped by for a visit with Eliza this afternoon, and she mentioned that he’s been having difficulties with Ming. Apparently her behavior has been less than acceptable, so Grayson wasn’t comfortable leaving her with just the nannies.”
“I thought he was supposed to bring her here and Grace and Lily were going to help keep an eye on all the children.”
“Piper told me Ming ripped off some of the heads from Piper’s dolls, so knowing that, I would have to believe Grayson is reluctant to foist his daughter on Eliza’s children.” She wiggled her brows at Felicia. “Its quite possible Ming’s behavior might prompt the man into taking a wife.”
“Yes, that’s what I want him to do. Decide he needs a wife because of his motherless daughter.”
“Piper told me she informed Grayson that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him for that reason.”
“Piper was talking to Grayson about marrying me?”
Agatha smiled a little smugly. “She told me I was her first choice as a potential wife for her uncle, but for some reason, your name got brought into the mix.”
Agatha suddenly narrowed her eyes as she glanced over Felicia’s shoulder. “Felicia, I don’t mean to change the subject, considering it’s a lively one, but that gentleman I was speaking about a moment ago seems to be heading our way.”
Felicia turned and saw the gentleman she’d made eye contact with before he’d disappeared. He was somberly dressed, walking in a determined manner, his sights clearly settled on her, and . . . Cora Watson was on one side of the man, Gloria Beckett on the other, and bringing up the rear, her mother.
Good grief, they had been scheming.
She frowned when it suddenly struck her that none of the ladies looked particularly pleased, even though all of them were smiling.
“This should be good,” Agatha whispered just before the mothers and the unknown gentleman came to a stop in front of them. Ruth scooted to the front of the group, sending Felicia what could only be described as a somewhat sickly smile.
“My dear, may I introduce to you Reverend Thomas Bannes? He’s recently come to town after enjoying the company of Reverend Fraser and his wife.”
Reverend Bannes stepped right up to Felicia, his gaze never leaving her face. He bowed and then straightened, taking her hand in his. “My dear Miss Murdock,” he began, “I’ve been longing to make your acquaintance ever since I had the pleasure of meeting Reverend Fraser.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I was told by the good reverend that you are a shining example of a truly devout and virtuous lady, and that’s why I’m here. I am in the market for a wife.”
17
Grayson had never dreamed that dealing with a temperamental three-year-old would be so exhausting.
He leaned his head back against the well-appointed seat of his carriage and closed his eyes, allowing the rattle of the carriage wheels against the stones to soothe his frazzled nerves.
The past day and a half had been an absolute nightmare as he and Ming had engaged in a battle of wills that Grayson wasn’t exactly certain he’d won. He’d had no idea his daughter was so stubborn, or dramatic, or that she possessed the ability to raise welts on arms, legs, and even his stomach when she’d sunk her sharp little teeth into him.
More than once he’d thought about turning her over to the army of nannies he employed, but he’d known that doing so would mean he’d lost the battle and, more importantly, lost an opportunity to finally become a true father to the little girl who obviously needed a real parent figure in her life.
He raised a hand and rubbed his temple. It was a tough business, this fathering thing. He’d had no idea one small child could be so obstinate. As he’d carried her around and around his spacious home, trying to soothe her while not allowing her to bite him, he’d come to the understanding that a father’s main job was to do what was best for his child—something he finally understood his father had been trying to do for him.
He’d begun talking to his father as he carted Ming from room to room, hoping the man could hear him from heaven. When Grayson was finished, he’d felt a small measure of peace, knowing that at last—even though the process was one-sided—he’d made a few amends with the father he’d been angry at for years.
His eyes flashed open when the carriage began to slow and then stopped, causing Grayson to lean forward, push back the curtain, and see they’d reached their destination.
He’d not planned to attend the Beckett ball, but when Ming had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, one of the nannies assured him that she wouldn’t wake until the next morning and had then given him some stellar advice. She’d told him point-blank that he’d done well with Ming, but that he should get out of the house and seek a bit of amusement, because . . . Ming would require his attention the following day.
It really was amazing how difficult attempting to be a real father was turning out to be, and it was quickly becoming clear that it wasn’t a temporary situation—it was one he was going to have to embrace for years.
A footman took that moment to open the carriage door, and Grayson climbed out, noticing as he did so that there were no people milling around outside the mansion—clear testimony to the likelihood they were already deep into the ball, which meant he was more than fashionably late. He thanked the footman and began to walk toward the house, anticipation suddenly flowing through him.
Felicia would be there, and even though he kept reminding himself that he wasn’t good enough for her, she kept pulling at him even when she wasn’t in his presence.
She hadn’t turned from him when he’d disclosed his past. Because of that, he didn’t seem to have any control over the fact that he thought about her constantly, thought about her sweetness, her quirkiness, her talent for trouble. All of those things kept roaming through his mind, keeping him up throughout the night, and those thoughts had compelled him to change into formal evening clothes and attend the ball.
He reached the steps to the house and was about to go up them when the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up. He turned and looked around, but other than a few footmen and coachmen standing around, he saw no one. Shrugging the feeling away, he climbed the short flight of steps, nodded to the butler who was standing with the door open for him, and walked into the house. There was no receiving line, nor had he expected one, given the lateness of the hour. He headed for the curved staircase, smiling when he saw Arabella and Theodore strolling down it.
“Did I miss the ball?” he asked.
Arabella smiled as she reached his side and gave him her gloved hand, which he promptly kissed. “Of course not, but the ball is a true crush, and the ballroom is stifling, which caused Theodore and I to seek out a little space.”
“You can release my wife’s hand, Grayson,” Theodore muttered. “One would think that since she’s securely married now, all of you poor unmarried gents would stop fawning over her.”
Grayson let go of Arabella’s hand and grinned. “It’s difficult to ignore a beautiful lady, Theodore, no matter that she’s firmly off the shelf.”
Arabella took his arm, turned, and extended her other to Theodore. She steered them away from the staircase and into a parlor, breathing a sigh of relief as she let go of their arms, moved to a chaise, and sat down on it. “Ah, much better.” She gestured Grayson to a chair next to her, while Theodore sat beside her on the chaise. She fanned her face with a hand for a moment before she turned her attention to Grayson.
“Piper told me you’re considering asking Felicia to marry you.”
Grayson blinked. “She did not. When?”
“I assure you, she did. We stopped by her house before heading to the ball. She also mentioned something about Ming needing a mother.” She began fanning her face once again. “Take some advice from me, Grayson—don’t bring that up when you propose. Felicia is a relatively no-nonsense type of lady, but she might reject you out of hand if she comes to believe you only want to marry her to provide Ming with a mother.” She shuddered. “Hamilton did that with Eliza at first, and from what I understand, it did not go over well.”
“I’m not planning on proposing.”
Arabella narrowed her eyes. “But . . . you have to propose—tonight.”
Grayson narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t, Felicia is liable to end up with that Reverend Bannes, and I’ve already decided he’s completely wrong for her.”
Ice settled in his veins. “Who, pray tell, is Reverend Bannes?”
“I’m not certain, since I’ve never seen the gentleman before tonight, but he showed up at the ball and has been paying Felicia marked attention.” Arabella blew out a breath. “She’s danced with him at least twice, and I do believe he’s trying his best to sweep her off her feet.”
Grayson stood and strode to the door, temper replacing the ice. He was forced to a stop, however, when Theodore blocked his path. “Excuse me. I need to get by.”
Theodore crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Not until you get th
at rage under control. The last thing Gloria will want at her ball is to have you taking out some poor reverend in the same way you evidently took out all those men at the pub.” He winked. “I don’t think mass carnage is what Gloria had in mind when she decided to host a ball to see Zayne on his way.”
“I’m not intending to harm the reverend. I’m simply going to make it clear to him that he needs to maintain his distance from Felicia.”
Theodore frowned. “You just said you weren’t planning on proposing to her.”
“True, but Arabella said this gentleman is all wrong for Felicia, so I feel a distinct need to help the lady. She has a very kind heart, you know. Pair that with her innocence and, why, there’s no telling what kind of mischief she’ll get herself into.”
“He is wrong for her,” Arabella said as she rose from the chaise and joined them. “I’ll come with you. Between the two of us, we’ll make short shrift of discouraging this man.”
Theodore held his place. “Darling, you know I love you, but there’s absolutely no possible way you can know—since the only contact you had with the reverend was to nod at him—that he’s wrong for Felicia.”
Arabella lifted her chin. “I’m remarkably intuitive.”
“Be that as it may,” Theodore continued with a fond smile to his wife, “both of you are forgetting one very important thing. Felicia went to extraordinary lengths to win Reverend Fraser’s affections, which tells me she’s hoping to form an alliance with a man of great faith.”
He nodded to Grayson. “I’m not, by any means, questioning the strength of your faith, but a man of the cloth might be exactly what Felicia has always desired. Don’t you think she deserves to make her own decision regarding this man?”
Grayson exchanged a glance with Arabella. “No.”
“You’re being difficult,” Theodore muttered. “And a bit of a contradiction as well, considering you quickly denied any interest in proposing to Felicia. It will not hurt to . . .” His voice trailed off when a hulking brute of a man slid into the room and joined them, whispering something in Theodore’s ear before he slid on silent feet back out the door.