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Charmed by His Lordship Page 2
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She shook off the tingling sensation on the back of her hand where he’d pressed his lips and marched with purpose across the rest of the steep incline to do her duty to Mrs. Garvey, the hostess. Did he watch her? Every part of her awoke in awareness of movement, conscious of the rise of her shoulders, of the fall of her feet. If he watched, what did he see? She resisted turning her head, though her body burned with the sensation of being watched, the pleasant awareness of alluring eyes, friendly curiosity, interest. She and Mrs. Dotting stepped on the first of the stone stairs, leading back up to the house. Five more steps to a turn in the stairwell, and Felicity would turn out of sight of the beach. What if she never saw him again? Did he watch her still? She risked a glance over her shoulder, and when his hand raised in farewell, she gasped, and then a sudden giggle shocked her in its escape from her own lips. Mrs. Dotting eyed her in alarm.
“I’m sure you think the worst of me, Mrs. Dotting, accompanied by a man, alone, but I assure you, I was a complete victim to the outlandish behavior of that man. We were on our way, directly to find you.”
Her chaperone fanned her face. “It was I who am at fault. If only I’d gathered my wits sooner to attend you.”
“I believe we are well, reputations still intact, and perfectly suited to begin our efforts with Lord Ridgecrest. You do remember the purpose of this visit?” She asked to reassure herself as much as her chaperone. Something about the outlandish man on the beach had her quivering in a manner she had not experienced. A good reminder of who the perfect man in her life was meant to be, namely Lord Ridgecrest, would aid in dousing any girlish fancies about men with completely uncouth ideas and fascinating eyes. Fordyce’s sermons had warned her of just such a thing.
“Of course, my lady.” Her chaperone hurried beside her, breath coming faster. The woman’s roundness was quite charming, but it made traversing a rocky path at a faster pace challenging. She breathed out. “Will we be meeting the Garveys?”
“Yes, straight away. My stomach is settled. The good sea air has helped considerably.” Though in actuality she felt far from settled. She wasn’t sure what to do about the lingering upheaval and flutterings traversing her whole frame, but she hoped she would never see the likes of that man again.
They approached the house. It was a lovely estate. She was looking forward to the tour and had heard it acclaimed far and wide. Though she’d heard mixed reactions of the host and hostess. To some they were the most magnanimous, and to others miserable misers.
“Lord Ridgecrest. He will arrive at the party shortly. We must keep our eye fixated on our purpose here, Mrs. Dotting. We must position ourselves, give him every opportunity to express an interest.”
“Yes, my lady. I can imagine he would be amenable to an alliance. Especially when he remembers your father, his familial connections to your mother.” She sniffed. “Besides the obvious, that you’re perfectly lovely and have a respectable dowry.”
“Perhaps best not to mention my mother at first.” A twinge of shame made her swallow twice over the lump that rose in her throat.
“Your mother was the best of women.”
“I know, and you know. But not everyone knows, do they?” She hoped that the Ridgecrests were those who did appreciate her mother. Lord Ridgecrest should, at any rate, if only for gratitude’s sake.
The approach to the home was fine, lovely, and well cared for, reminding Felicity of her own questionable lineage by comparison. “I am a lady,” she murmured.
“What was that?” Mrs. Dotting eyed her again with rising concern.
“It is nothing. Just reminding myself I belong here as much as anyone.”
“That you do.” Mrs. Dotting’s kind hand on her arm comforted as much as it annoyed. She didn’t need the sympathy of others. Or perhaps she did. What a mess her emotions were as they whipped around inside. They approached the front door, and the butler answered.
She lifted her chin. “Lady Felicity Honora Honeyfield and Mrs. Dotting.”
He stepped back to allow entrance. “Welcome. I believe your carriage arrived earlier?”
“Yes, and I do thank you for helping our things get settled?”
“You will find everything in your room, which is down the first wing and to the right. Your servants have been directed to their accommodations as well.”
She nodded. “And where might we find Mrs. Garvey?” She wished to do her duty to her hostess and become acquainted with such a talked-of individual. She heard such varying reports of the woman, she wondered what her own opinion would be. She and Mrs. Dotting were led to the front room. The footman announced, “Lady Felicity Honora Honeyfield. Mrs. Dotting. Of Haversham.”
She curtseyed precisely, delicately, and kept her eyes down in her most demure expression. Everyone in the room stood. As she looked up from her own curtsey, she met the eyes of Lord Ridgecrest in the middle of his bow. He is here. His eyes raised in recognition, and he nodded.
“Did you see that?” Felicity hissed through her smiling teeth, her heart hammering. “He nodded at us.”
“Good, he remembers the acquaintance. That will make introductions less awkward and hopefully unnecessary.”
Her hands shook, not knowing how to function in a normal manner when one’s happiness relied so much upon simple and fickle things like catching a gentleman’s eye. He was already entertaining two women. Many women through the ton had their eye on him, she was sure. But not many had her connection to him. Perhaps he would notice the power of fate working its tendrils on their behalf. . .
But how to situate herself closer? Her gaze swept the room. She was almost too long in the entry. So often her governess had reprimanded, If you must be the center of attention, do not linger.
She smiled and rested a hand on Mrs. Dotting’s arm. She murmured, “Stay close. Remember you are to watch for any hint of impropriety in me.” So often, she wondered who was chaperoning who. She wanted someone to keep everything on the up and up. And Mrs. Dotting was just such a person, though forgetful, unfortunately always needing to be reminded of her duties. Felicity would have never even had a run-in with that mysterious man at the beach at all if Mrs. Dotting had been present.
She and Mrs. Dotting were soon settled in a settee near enough to Lord Ridgecrest that she could overhear his conversations on one side and quite close enough for a conversation with a pair of ladies on her other side.
One, lovely, friendly looking woman of striking auburn hair greeted them immediately. “I’m so happy you’ve come to join us. We were just about out of interesting topics.” She fanned herself. “And I for one dread boredom. Do tell me all about yourself, please.”
Felicity was immediately taken aback. For one, she had never been introduced to this friendly person. Though they had announced Felicity and Mrs. Dotting to the room, she didn’t feel that sufficient enough acquaintance to begin a conversation with her.
Lord Ridgecrest joined them, as if he sensed her trouble. “Allow me.” He bowed to them both. “For I am so fortunate as to be acquainted with the both of you. And we would stave off boredom whenever we can.” He winked. Felicity warmed in gratitude. He was already anticipating her needs. He held his hand out for the other woman to take. “Miss Melanie Tanning, I would like to introduce you to an old friend, Lady Felicity.”
Felicity Honeyfield wished Lord Ridgecrest had taken her hand. Her gaze traveled between the two. Though Miss Tanning’s face held a hint of a flush, that could just as easily have been from the over exuberance in which she’d greeted Felicity. “I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Tanning, and to see you again, Lord Ridgecrest. It’s been an age, and I am certain we have much to discuss to reacquaint one another.”
He nodded. “I’m sure we do.”
Another man approached. Felicity recognized again her great disadvantage at knowing so few people. He bowed. “If introductions are to be made to these charming women, I’d love to become acquainted as well.” His eyes travelled over Felicity’s face, and
she warmed under his friendly perusal of her person. She smiled and gave him her hand.
“This is the lovely Lady Felicity and Miss Tanning. And this gentleman comes to us straight from London, a Mr. Cavanaugh at your service, I’m sure.”
Did Felicity catch a hint of irony? But she could see nothing untoward in their expressions. She stood and curtseyed, pleased for this opportunity so soon to converse with Lord Ridgecrest up close. She cleared her throat, addressing Mr. Cavanaugh. “Has the weather been nice?”
“Oh, delightful. I’ve already taken a turn on the beach. We’ve visited the pier in Brighton and taken a turn on the Old Steine. The Royal Pavilion is looking more complete in its construction and it is a sight. It has been lovely and diverting.” Mr. Cavanaugh held out his arm. “I’d be happy to return with you if you’d like. I’m sure our hosts will have a planned visit as well. Would you do me the honor now of a turn about the room? Perhaps more introductions are in order as well as an opportunity to hear how it is you might know our Lord Ridgecrest so well?”
Lord Ridgecrest cleared his throat, and she caught his subtle shake of the head. She nodded with a small smile. And already they shared a secret. “Oh, it is nothing so very interesting. We were childhood friends.”
“Ah, so you might have information as to his childhood, which sticks were best for swordplay and the like?” Mr. Cavanaugh led her away.
“I’m afraid our connections were limited, but I will say he was a lovely companion at dropping sticks in the river.”
Mr. Cavanaugh laughed overly loud, and Felicity at once questioned her association with him. A glance at Mrs. Dotting did nothing to help her. The woman was already deep in conversation with Miss Tanning’s companion, who she’d not yet been introduced to either.
At about halfway round the room, the footman entered again and announced, “Lord Abraham Bolton of London.”
She gasped, and Mr. Cavanaugh glanced at her curiously. When she arose from her curtsey, she tried desperately to keep her coloring normal.
“Do you know him?”
“I—well—no.” She lifted her lashes to him. “I cannot explain my reaction.”
He chuckled. “Well, unfortunately for the rest of us, Lord Bolton has that effect on most women. Come, I’ll get you an introduction.”
She wanted to dig her slippers into the floor. “No, it’s quite all right . . .”
“Lord Bolton, someone desires your acquaintance.”
Her man from the beach turned, an expectant and polite expression on his face until he saw Felicity, and then his face lit in delight. “Does she now?” The amusement in his eyes made Felicity want to turn from him, but she held her place, not daring to perform such an affront. Instead of speaking at all, she curtseyed while Mr. Cavanaugh said, “Lady Felicity, might I present Lord Abraham Bolton, an old friend from Oxford, and a decent chap besides.”
Felicity held out her hand. “A pleasure.”
“Oh, Lady Felicity. The pleasure is mine, naturally.” He bowed over her hand, and the pressure of his lips once again on the same knuckle did strange things to her insides. He released her hand all too soon. “Perhaps we shall get to know one another during today’s events?”
“I’m certain we shall.”
He bowed. “As I see you are in the excellent hands of my friend Cavanaugh here, I shall be off and recommending myself to the others as well.” He headed in the direction of Miss Tanning without a backward glance.
She closed her mouth. “He’s rather, abrupt.” She watched his back.
“Yes, he seems to be,” Mr. Cavanaugh said.
They both watched Lord Bolton beeline it straight for Miss Tanning. “Hmm. And now we see, perhaps, the reason?” Mr. Cavanaugh rubbed his chin. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed?”
In truth, something bothered her about his treatment, his quick dismissal and his obvious interest elsewhere. She couldn’t account for her feelings, but she could dissuade Mr. Cavanaugh from his continued misunderstanding. “No, please. I have only the best wishes for Lord Bolton. I was just startled by his sudden entrance and have no further interest beyond that, I assure you.”
His eyebrow rose. “Excellent. Then, shall we continue our walk?”
In truth, she could never understand this fascination with promenading about a smallish sort of room, but she forbore and was grateful in the end to have met so many at the party. And doubly glad, for at the end, he returned her to the side of Lord Ridgecrest, who seemed pleased to have her company. She turned all attention to him, trying to ignore the overly exuberant Lord Bolton who was also at her side.
Chapter 3
Confound it. Lady Felicity was she? A lady? And beautiful at that. And delightfully fun to tease. She stood in their small group at his side, with her back decidedly to him. Which he was perfectly agreeable to, because it isolated him and Miss Tanning a sufficient amount so as to give him a moment of privacy with her.
“Miss Tanning. You look well. The past weeks have been agreeable, I gather?”
“Yes, quite. We’ve been staying with friends here in Brighton, the Huntingtons. You might know them.”
“Yes, good people. I was happy to hear of your attendance at this house party. I may not have come were it not for that pleasant discovery . . .”
“Oh, come now, Lord Bolton. We know you would have found merriment here regardless.”
“Merriment and the sincerity of an attachment are two different things, my dear, and I was searching for an attachment.” He stepped closer, allowing her to see the sincerity in his eyes. He was sincere, certainly, captivated by his goals. And would have been by her, he argued with himself, were he free to be captivated by just anyone of his acquaintance.
Lady Felicity’s laugh tickled his consciousness with a curiosity about how he would go about bringing such a beautiful noise back to the surface of her primly proper expressions.
Miss Tanning shook her head. “You are too bold, which gives me leave to doubt your sincerity.”
He reached for her hand, bowing. “Then, please, give me leave to prove my devotion. I am here only to win your goodwill.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked around before returning her gaze to him. A slight pink colored her cheeks. “We shall see, then.”
His nod made her smile. “The way I see it, you beautiful ladies may spend your time with any number of people, but if you are at liberty to choose, then why not pick those most amiable, those who can promise a closeness of relationship, an ease of living, generous and comfortable seasons in London, and an attentive partner. Who listens to your every whim?” He held her gaze and brought her hand again to his lips. “If you are able to choose, why not choose such a man?”
Their gaze was broken by Lord Ridgecrest. “Come, Bolton. Converse with us all.”
He nodded to Miss Tanning and shifted his stance. Lord Ridgecrest broadened their circle so that he stood beside Miss Tanning and soon engrossed her in conversation.
Lady Felicity had shifted as well, closer to him. Seeing they would not be overheard, Abraham leaned nearer to her. “Lady Felicity?”
Her raised eyebrows made him laugh.
“I had no idea I was in such esteemed company when I imposed upon your kindness.”
“Oh fiddle. I’m no more esteemed than the next lady. But I will say, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“So, you did not know you were in such esteemed company either?”
Her face colored again, and he almost heard her laugh. He watched her choke it back. Such a pity for the sound was as delightful as it was contagious. “No, I had no way of even presuming such a thing.”
“Ho, so you cut me to the core.”
Their faces were close, surprisingly so, his impression of her being of the utmost propriety-following miss.
But she whispered, and he found her soft breath on his cheek captivating. “I heard what you said to Miss Tanning. Can you be serious?”
“Pardon me, Lady Felicity, but can you h
ave been eavesdropping?”
She stepped back, “No!” Her voice carried to all nearby, enough for Lord Ridgecrest and Miss Tanning to halt in their discussion.
“What is it?” Lord Ridgecrest frowned at Lord Bolton, who held up his hands. “I cannot account for it, but that my retelling of a fascinating little tidbit from this past season has surprised our Lady Felicity.”
Miss Tanning’s eyes grinned in mischief at him. “Do tell us then. We want to be a part.”
“Well, I—” He glanced helplessly at Lady Felicity.
“It is all rather diverting. You’ll soon join me in laughter, I’m certain.”
“Yes, quite.” An awkward pause followed, and Lady Felicity’s eyes widened at him.
Then she cleared her throat. “I believe Lord Bolton is a bit embarrassed, so I shall share the story.” She swallowed. “Of the two Miss Whites.”
“The two Miss Whites?” Lord Bolton snorted.
“Well. Your story must have a name.”
Lord Bolton bowed his head. “Quite right. Do carry on.”
“He had promised a dance with Miss White. And all he knew of the woman was her hair was a honey gold and that she was about so high.” She indicated a height much shorter than herself. “When it came time to fetch the woman, he went searching for a Miss White but found himself frustrated, for there are a significant number of women in a ballroom of honey-gold hair and that particular height.”
“There are indeed.” Miss Tanning stepped closer.
“But as he passed a group, he heard one of the men address just such a woman as Miss White.”
“And there you have it.” Mr. Cavanaugh clapped.
“Just so. He held out his arm and escorted the woman to the center of the floor and took his dance with her.” She held up a finger. “Only to discover the lady’s extreme discomfort in his great affront, for they had never been introduced.”