by Claudy Conn
“Well then, yes, Lady Daphne, I think your invitation is most gracious, and I do heartily hope to do you proud. I know I have been a hoyden of a girl, but I shan’t give you cause to regret giving me a season. In fact, I am most flattered that you want me,” Felicia said.
Daffy was a warm soul and immediately took Felicia into her embrace. “Want you? Of course I want you.”
The duke looked at his sister, and a small smile curved his lips. “Ah then, as usual, Daffy, you have sewn up the matter right and tight.”
“Have I?” she said on a low note. “I rather think our Felicia has done that. But we shall see.”
Felicia suddenly wanted to cry. She knew that Lady Daphne was of course doing this for her brother, but at the same time she was very aware of the woman’s kindness and immediately took to her.
On the other hand, she was aching inside because it occurred to her that the duke wanted her to have a season. What did that mean? It meant that he wanted to present her to the world and marry her off. In turn that meant he did not want her for himself. He was willing to see her married off to someone else. Oh, he might have a fondness for her. He might even still lust after her, considering their night together, but he was able to forget that, wasn’t he? Men could forget such things. She had often heard Scott say something like that regarding men and women.
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She had to get out of Scott’s room. She excused herself and started out.
The duke called, “Felicia …?”
She did not look back but hurried off toward her own room. Once again, his sister was astounded as he stomped after her.
In the hall just at her bedroom door, he caught up with her and took her hand to pull her towards him. “Felicia … I don’t know what you are thinking, but I know some awful thought popped into your head. You are my own little zany, and I am beginning to know you very well.”
“Are you?” She nearly choked on the words. “You are my guardian. I am your ward. What happened between us must be forgotten. You and your sister are about to present me to your world and sell me off to the pinkest of the ton, no doubt. That, Your Grace, is that.”
So saying, she entered her room and closed the door.
~ Twenty-One ~
FELICIA SAT CURLED up on the very luxurious yellow damask sofa in the morning room of Waverly House. Her rich black hair had been trimmed and styled in a profusion of curls, which Lady Daphne had told her was the very latest in fashion.
She had spread her A-line morning gown of amber velvet around herself, and the duke’s sister had said only a moment ago that she was about to collect a profusion of hearts.
Felicia had sighed to answer, “I don’t want to collect hearts.”
“You may not, but I fear, my girl, you shall. Why only look at you!” Daffy had sighed and picked up her book to read.
Felicia let it go and was glancing at the pages of the morning paper in her lap when the morning room doors opened and the duke strode inside.
A gasp formed in her throat. She hadn’t seen him in two days and had, in fact, felt as though she was about to go mad with missing him. He stood a moment, looking to her like a god in his blue superfine, his top hat in his ungloved hands. He was so tall, so broad, and with his black silky waves windblown about his handsome, too handsome face, stunning.
He stood staring at her, even as she pulled her legs out from under herself and sat up straight. He went to her as though no one else inhabited the room and bent over her fingers. “Felicia.”
“Your Grace,” she whispered.
Daphne cleared her throat. “Hallo, brother … good to see you too. Where have you been?”
“Where have I been?” He seemed momentarily befuddled. “Oh, I called yesterday, did your man not tell you? The two of you were out shopping.”
“And last night? I thought you might join us for a little family dinner. Freddy invited one of his friends over, and we had a lovely time.”
“Freddy’s friend? Who?” he was momentarily diverted.
“Tony … you know him, young squire, has a place near Somerset, in fact.”
“Ah, young scoundrel.” He eyed Felicia. “I hope he didn’t turn your head? I hear he is a charmer.”
Felicia beamed. “Oh, he is, indeed, very good fun.”
“Hmm,” the duke answered.
“So, where were you? You didn’t even reply to my invitation,” his sister pursued.
“Ah, my man got a hold of me and, as it turned out, I had to take a quick ride over to Billings House.”
“Billings? Whatever for?”
“Well, inherited the damn place from Uncle, and it is in a bit of a mess. Have to make a decision. Do I keep it or sell it to that American who seems to want it?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Not sure, thought Felicia might like to accompany me now and give me her opinion of the place,” he said softly.
His sister eyed him thoughtfully. “Why, that is an excellent notion. I fully agree, Glen, Felicia must see it before you let it go.”
Felicia watched his face as he glanced thoughtfully at his sister and said, “Need we bring her maid with us?”
“Nonsense. You are her guardian. Of course you can take her to see a property on your own. Besides, ’tis only just across from Hyde Park. Exceptional neighborhood.”
“Right then,” said the duke, holding out his bent arm. “Shall we?”
Felicia almost squealed as she got to her feet. “I shall fetch my cloak.”
* * *
Daffy eyed him as Felicia hurried out of the room. “Why all of a sudden, Glen … do you need to inspect this property?”
“The dratted American needs an answer, he says, so I suppose we must give him one, and I do want Felicia’s opinion.”
“I see,” she said, and her eyes twinkled. “Indeed, of course you do.” She sighed. “Very well, then, but don’t keep her too long, as we have the rout tonight, and it is Felicia’s first formal event, and you must be there … right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said softly.
* * *
The duke sat beside Felicia in his coach, and she was very aware of the stares they received from people passing by as they made their way out of Kensington Square.
She turned and found the duke’s silver eyes alive with pleasure. “You look fetching in that little chip bonnet.”
She beamed. “It is pretty … and matches my amber gown and brown Spencer, don’t you think?”
He chuckled and gravely inclined his head. “I do.”
She laughed. “Ah, you are making fun of me.”
“Felicia,” he said softly. “Are you excited about this evening?”
“Yes, and no … I would have been more comfortable if Becky were here already. I had hoped she would have been allowed to accompany us, but I expect she and her father will arrive in London soon, and that will be wonderful.” She brightened. “And Scott said he will attend, so there is that.” She cocked a look at him. “Where is Scott, do you know? I have not seen him since yesterday morning.”
“He went off with some friends he had bumped into at the club. I think they mean to lease some lodging together for the season.”
“Do you mind … his staying with you in the meantime?”
“Not at all. He is a very good fellow.”
Felicia sighed. “It is, you know, dashed inconvenient … being your ward.”
“Is it? Because it is dashed inconvenient being your guardian,” he answered, his voice low and suddenly husky.
“Because I know you would like to kiss me, and now you can’t.” She dimpled at him.
“You are a she-devil, but, yes, I would like to kiss you, and now I can’t,” he said on a hungry note.
“Why?” she returned. “Why can’t you? Whose business is it but ours?”
“Stop. You know why,” he answered on a frown.
“I do. You want me to make a suitable match and cannot in g
ood conscience make love to me and still accomplish that.”
He choked. “It is no such thing.”
She did not answer and said as she looked curiously out the window, “Ah, your driver has stopped … we must be here.”
A quick tour of the townhouse had Felicia smiling as she turned to the duke and said, “This is charming, but how many townhouses do you already have?”
“Three,” he said and grimaced. “My own, the one I bought before I became the duke. Then there is Ashton House, which I shall be deeding to my cousin, who will now take the title and some of the holdings, and of course, there is Somerset Place in Kensington, where I am now installed. It is not far from Daffy’s. So this would make four if I don’t sell it.”
“Then you should decide if you wish to reside here … ever, and allow your decision to emerge from that,” Felicia said, picking up a dusty linen to peer at the upholstered chair beneath.
“Ah, so then it goes to the American—unless, you like the place …?” he said.
“Not especially, and if you have three others, it is simply too much too think about, isn’t it? Silly really.”
Suddenly she found his arm slipping around her as he pulled her up against himself. “Felicia …” His voice was low and hoarse.
“Yes?” She saw the smoldering look in his bright silver eyes, and all her hurts and resolves seemed to melt beneath that fire.
And then, just as suddenly, he released her and turned away. “We should be going.”
“Right,” she said. He seemed to be at war with himself, but why? If he were in love with her, would it not be an easy decision to simply tell her?
He said as he stopped and took her hand, “You know, you must have every advantage. It is my duty as your guardian to present you to the haute ton and allow you to meet eligible bachelors … as many and as varied as possible, so that when you decide on one, it will be because you had a choice.”
She eyed him. He was ready to let her go. Very well, so be it, she thought as her heart took a pounding. She would not break. The night she had spent with him had been at her instigation. She had known full well that she might never win his heart. Apparently, she had not.
“A choice, you say. How very exciting. Well, I suppose it all starts tonight.” She started forward, but the next thing she knew, he had her spun around and back into his arms.
His mouth on hers was desperate, and she responded with a heat that surely must show him how she felt about him?
His tongue melted hers. His hand swept over her breast, and then he groaned and stepped away, holding her shoulders apart from himself. “I am the worst scoundrel imaginable. I have to get control. You are an innocent. You came to me an innocent, and I took you knowing you were vulnerable. I will not do so again.” He took her hand and pulled her along. “This was very wrong of me … bringing you here, like this … we must get back.”
He saw her situated within his coach, and the short ride back to Waverly House was made in silence. He saw her to the door, turned on his heel, and she bucked herself up as she went inside. She had used every ounce of strength not to call him back and not look after him.
She went indoors and took the stairs, only mildly aware that Lady Daphne peeked out of the morning room and watched her.
Throwing herself onto her bed, she couldn’t stop the wrenching sobs that escaped her lips. He did not love her. He was about to watch her being launched and perhaps engaged to someone else.
Could she give herself to anyone else? No … oh, no …
~ Twenty-Two ~
THE DUKE PREPARED to enter the Dyson Rout and watch his sprite of a woman swept off her feet by any number of eligible bachelors.
Pain filled his chest, and he wondered why it felt so tight. He had to back away from her; only a complete scoundrel would stand in her way.
She was, as Becky had dubbed her, a madcap of a woman. Lively and beautiful, dear, gentle of heart, and wild to a fault. She had kept him in a busy dance from the time he had met her, and he couldn’t remember a moment he hadn’t been glad she was in it.
What then?
He was her guardian. It was his duty to see her well established. There was nothing for it but to keep himself at arm’s length and allow her to meet and review an array of suitors. He had no doubt that one of them would steal her away and that his life would forever be empty without her in it.
After all, she had come to him only because he had rescued her and been there during a vulnerable time in her life. He had no right, none whatsoever, to want her the way that he did.
She was, in spite of their burning and erotic night together, an innocent.
He walked into the ballroom and stood a moment, watching the festivities as his name was announced.
Heads turned … but the only person he saw was her, and he saw her at once.
She was a ravishing young woman in a gown of pale cream velvet. Her cascading black curls bounced as she took a step towards him. Her piquant face was upturned to him … just for him.
And at her side was the young Earl of Corlumby.
He was a tall and handsome young man. He had fortune and title, and from the little the duke knew of him, he was a nice enough fellow. From the way the young earl was staring at Felicia’s profile, he obviously was much taken.
Felicia hurried towards him, her young earl following her like a puppy. She put out both her gloved hands, and the duke sucked in air so that he could breathe and then speak. “Felicia,” he said softly.
“I have been waiting for you,” Felicia said breathlessly, seemingly heedless of whatever her young earl might think. She turned to him and said, “Willy, this is my …” She hesitated and inclined her head, her green eyes twinkling at him. “… guardian, the Duke of Somerset.”
‘Willy’ put out his hand. “We are acquainted already … in a way, as I have seen you in passing at White’s.”
The duke allowed him a friendly enough smile. “Indeed, I am also a friend of your uncle’s.”
“Uncle Roland? Yes, yes, grand ol’ fellow.”
The duke suddenly felt very aged indeed. Here was this chap who couldn’t be more than three and twenty beside his twenty-year-old ward … and he approaching thirty. His heart suddenly gave him a twinge in his chest.
Felicia’s eyes narrowed as she met his, and she said, “’Tis a waltz, Your Grace … and though it is unorthodox for me to ask you, would you lead me out for my first one of this season?”
His breath hitched in his throat. He saw ‘Willy’ stand back respectfully, and he offered his arm to his ward. He had to keep telling himself: she was his ward. “I am honored—how could it be otherwise?”
* * *
She knew what he was doing. Felicia had had a very good cry, the Lady Daphne had come in and put a stop to it, and then they had a very wonderful talk where she had gained a great deal of insight.
She had after Lady Daffy’s ‘talk’ decided not to give up on the duke.
How could she give up on him, when he was the ‘love of her life’?
He was honor-bound to keep her at a distance. He was honor-bound to see to it she had a choice of suitors and the ability to freely choose. He was, in an awful nutshell, honor-bound. Well, he had one month to cater to his honor, and then, she would make certain, he catered to hers!
This had made her laugh to herself, and now, looking up during their waltz, into eyes that told her she was not wrong, she felt her world come together.
Softly he said, “You should be dancing with one of those beaus dangling after you.”
She decided to torture him in the interim and pouted up at his face. “La, but I don’t want to dance with anyone else. Why must I?”
“You know why.”
“I do, but I don’t like it. I would much rather dance all night with you,” she said truthfully.
“Don’t you like your, er … Willy or any of the others here tonight?”
“Oh, yes, Willy especially because he is quite a nic
e young man, and very accommodating as well, but you can’t think he would be a good fit for me? Why, I should run him ragged. I don’t need a boy, Your Grace, I need a man.”
“Don’t call me ‘Your Grace’. We are in a sense, family, and it would be proper for you to call me Glen.”
“I shall call you Ashton, then, for it is how I came to think of you when neither one of us thought we were … er … like family.” She twinkled as the tease took over her face.
He laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I could answer that, but I would rather you see it for yourself,” Felicia said meaningfully.
“What, my dear, is it that you want me to see?”
“Ah, now giving you the answer would spoil all the fun,” she said and turned to smile to a young man who had arrived to nod respectfully at the duke and bow to take her hand for the next cotillion.
She gave her guardian a demure smile as she allowed the young man to lead her off.
* * *
Hours and hours later, somewhere in the wee time of night, Felicia tossed in her large bed. Thoughts of her duke were keeping her fitfully awake.
Lady Daphne had been ecstatic, telling her she had been quite a hit and was the ‘new darling’ of the beau monde. She had smiled and thought that while that was very pleasant, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was how she felt about the duke—how he felt about her.
The duke had declared the rout a modest affair, but she had thought it quite splendid in every imaginable way. She had danced with many, so many very pleasant young and older men. Scott had even stood up with her for a waltz, saying his shoulder was not so very stiff after all and that he wanted to practice for when Becky arrived. She had laughed at him, and he had turned red but took her teasing with good grace.
When Beau Brummell arrived and was presented to her, she thought the night perfect. She had heard so much about the arbitrator of men’s fashions and was thoroughly enchanted with the Beau. She had been both shocked and delighted at his outrageous comments and conversation and it was remarked upon by both the duke and Lady Daphne afterwards that the Beau had been quite taken with her. In fact, the duke whispered that the Beau had told him, “Your ward is not only a bright star but a refreshing change from the insipid misses I have lately encountered.”