His mother threw up her hands. “Why did it have to be a daughter of that man? If you form an alliance with that family it will be the ruin of us.”
“If I don’t it will ruin us,” he pointed out. “I’ve publicly offered. You know a gentleman can’t withdraw.”
“You think she’d sue for breach of promise?” whispered Jane as if it were the most scandalous thing in the world.
He considered Lady Felicity and the way she’d popped Lord Trumbold on the jaw then carried on as if she hadn’t stirred a curl. “No, I don’t. She’s not that kind of lady.”
He took another sip of coffee then folded his paper. “Still, one can’t leave her in a lurch.”
“What if the madness runs in the family?” his mother exclaimed.
“She’s not mad. Blazes, Penworth isn’t mad either. Just. . .”
His mother waited, her eyes narrowed. “Yes?”
“Well,” he at last replied, “he certainly isn’t a sheep.”
His mother huffed, “He’s a randy old ram that should be put down.”
“Madness or randy old ram,” countered William, “Lady Felicity is a lady of remarkable capability I’d say. . . And courage.”
“Courage?” Mary prompted.
William nodded. “To face society after all that fuss last year. That takes courage.”
“Lady Melbourne is a formidable member of the ton,” his mother pointed out. “None of us would gainsay her. If she said she wished a baboon invited to Almack’s, we would.”
“No baboons, thank goodness,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Now, I’m off.”
Elizabeth bounced on her chair. “May I accompany you?”
“No pet,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But there will be plenty of time for you to meet her.”
“To think, my son forced to wed, over a bit of business in a dark corner,” his mother lamented. “The scandal. The shame.”
“We shall weather it, I think, Mother,” he drawled. “We survived Grandpapa’s fling with the Irish singer.”
His mother sniffed. “Yes. Well. That’s different.”
He didn’t bother to ask how. Sometimes the workings of his mother’s mind were a mystery, love her though he did. He’d often found she conveniently liked to forget facts when in an argument. It was rather endearing, really.
“When you see me again, I’ll know the date,” he said.
“You know,” Mary said with decided mischief. “You don’t look too put out about it.”
He stared at Mary. “You know, I don’t think I am. She’s quite something.”
“And beautiful,” supplied Mary.
“Yes,” he admitted.
But that wasn’t what made the day’s future appointment palatable. It was that he was going to have a conversation with Lady Felicity and she wasn’t going to be utterly predictable like every other woman he’d ever met.
And that was something to look forward to, indeed.
Chapter 5
“You’re pacing.”
Felicity threw Georgiana a dagger-like stare. “I don’t pace.”
She let out a cry of frustration as she realized she, indeed, was walking back and forth before the windows which overlooked the pavement.
When had it come to this?
Pacing!
A knock rapped on the front door and she felt her heart fly into her mouth.
“Next door,” said Augusta, as she lounged reading a novel.
Felicity scowled. “Of course it was,” she snapped.
Gus lifted her gaze from her book. “Only you did look very excited—“
“Just. . .” She threw her hands up and flung herself with undue drama into a nearby yellow damask chair. “What if he doesn’t come?”
“Oh, he’ll come,” said Georgiana.
“If he doesn’t we’re all done for,” intoned Felicity. When he strode away from her last night in that dark hall, she’d realized just how terribly precarious her situation was. How bad the night had, indeed, been.
Before that odious old man had bothered her, it had been going rather well. There’d only been a few nasty looks. Others had even been sympathetic.
Several gentlemen had asked Felicity and her sisters to dance.
Then he’d had to accost her on her return from the cloak room.
Even now, she wished she could kick herself for letting Lord Trumbold manage to maneuver her into a side room.
Perhaps she was a sheep after all.
He’d herded her rather well.
But she had been so terrified of a scene.
A scene would ruin them all.
Well, they might all still be ruined.
“Should I ring for tea?” asked Gus.
“Pots of it wouldn’t cure me,” Felicity bemoaned.
Gus waggled her fiery red eyebrows. “Brandy then?”
“Gus!” chastised Felicity.
Shrugging, Gus returned her gaze back to her book as she said, “That’s what father would have done.”
“Father is in exile because of his behavior.”
“Well what about some negus,” Marianne suggested as she studied her pianoforte music. “We could have negus. It’s medicinal.”
Felicity frowned. “Come to think of it, so is brandy. Let’s have brandy.”
Gus got up and pulled the bell pull. They had all gathered together very early to discuss what was to be done. Only none of them seemed to know.
It wasn’t as if she could hie over to Lord Talbot’s townhome and demand entrance.
Could she?
No. No she couldn’t. Not even she could go that far. She pursed her lips. At least not in daylight.
“You have a most troubling look on your face,” said Georgiana.
“Do you think it terribly hard to scale a wall?” Felicity asked.
“Yes!” all her sisters shouted in unison.
“I was just curious,” she defended.
The door opened and rather than the butler, Lady Melbourne swooped in, her turquoise silk aflutter and the gold leaves in her turban winking in the morning light.
She strode towards Felicity. Just as Felicity was certain Lady Melbourne was going to give her the castigation of her life, the older lady beamed.
“Clever, clever girl! However did you manage it? The Marquess of Talbot!” Lady Melbourne gushed. “What a coup!”
“Um. . .” She really had no idea what to say in response. So, at last, she replied carefully, “Thank you?”
Last night, Lady Melbourne had gone to a separate charity event and sent them to the ball with her sister, Lady Clyde.
Lady Clyde had been agog at the scandalous events that quickly were made known in the ballroom. But Lady Clyde had promised to allow Felicity to confess the news to Lady Melbourne in the morning.
Gus cleared her throat. “How did you hear? Is it in the papers?”
Lady Melbourne tsked. “Of course not. My lady’s maid told me. It is going round the downstairs circuit apace.”
Waiting for Lady Melbourne to rise had apparently been a moot point. For all London knew, including or especially, the maids of every lady in town.
The butler entered, the tray laden.
Lady Melbourne arched a brow. “What the deuce?”
“A restorative,” ventured Gus.
“Brandy before lunch? Are you all in fits of fainting?” demanded Lady Melbourne.
Felicity and her sisters quickly exchanged glances. What to say?
Lady Melbourne shook her head. “My dear girls, it is always champagne in the morning. With a bit of fruit. Bellweather,” she said ominously to the silver-haired butler. “You know better. How could you allow such a travesty?”
“I beg your pardon, my lady. I thought that since they were young ladies they must have a different fashion. So, I—“
“Are you saying I am old, Bellweather?”
The butler blanched. “Never, my lady. Never in a month of Sundays would I—“
“Very well. Very well. You needn’t worry your head over it,” Lady Melbourne soothed. “Trot back to the cellar. Find champagne and bring strawberries if Mrs. Matlock has any to spare. We are celebrating!”
The butler merely gave an accepting nod then headed back out.