humour.
He was nigh on the perfect man.
Just not for her.
Felicity wrapped her shawl closer around her and knocked on her mother’s bedchamber door. She glanced along the corridor, praying no one would see her. The sick dread churning the pit of her stomach would not go away. She must speak with Mama and tell her of her decision, or she would never be able to sleep that night. The sooner she halted Lady Katherine’s inevitable runaway enthusiasm for this match, the better.
She heard a faint voice from within, and entered. Lady Katherine was in the massive four-poster, reclining in a sultry pose against the stacked pillows. When she saw her daughter, she sat up, pouting.
‘Felicity. I thought you were my darling Farlowe. What is it? Will it take long?’
Thank goodness her stepfather was still downstairs with the other men. It would be hard enough to persuade Mama to understand without Farlowe there to stir the pot.
Felicity perched on the edge of Mama’s bed.
‘Mama, I cannot marry Lord Stanton.’
‘What?’
Felicity flinched, her mother’s piercing shriek loud in her ears.
‘I am sorry...’
‘Sorry? You are the most ungrateful little... Why? You asked me to arrange a marriage, and I have set up an alliance with the most eligible bachelor of our acquaintance, and you have the boldness to suggest he is not good enough for you? Oh! Where are my salts? You infuriating, stubborn girl...’
Lady Katherine’s face was pink with fury. Felicity found her mother’s smelling salts and watched her wave them beneath her nose.
‘Mama, I am sorry to distress you, but if you will listen to me—’
‘Listen to you? I listened when you asked me to arrange your marriage. Finally, I thought...finally, Felicity is behaving as a modest young woman ought. But I was mistaken. You still imagine you are too good! Too good for the likes of Stanton, of all people.’
‘I do not believe I am too good for him,’ Felicity said, heart sinking. Once Lady Katherine had worked herself into such a state, she was unlikely to heed anything other than her own point of view. How Felicity wished Beanie was here to confide in.
‘Well, I should think not. Now, if it was poor, dear Emma who had caught the eye of such a man...mayhap she could believe herself too good for him.’
Felicity thrust down the pain of once again being unfavourably compared to her sister.
‘May we discuss this in the morning, Mama?’ When you are calmer. ‘I am sorry to upset you, but I would try to make you understand why I must refuse Stanton.’
Lady Katherine straightened in the bed, sparks shooting from her blue eyes. ‘I do believe you are serious, you ungrateful chit. You always were stubborn, and unbecomingly forward with your opinions. Well, we shall see what Farlowe has to say about this.’
‘My stepfather can have no opinion on my betrothal,’ Felicity retorted. If only you had never married him, I wouldn’t be obliged to marry anyone. ‘The decision is mine. You cannot force me to accept Stanton.’
‘But why, Felicity, darling?’ Her mother changed tack, wheedling. ‘I don’t understand. Most girls would swoon at the thought of catching such a man.’
‘The problem is that he is too good a catch, Mama.’
‘Too good? How can a man be too good a catch?’
Felicity struggled to find the words. How could she possibly explain without insulting her mother and dragging Emma’s name into the argument? Her mother would—and not for the first time—accuse her of jealousy.
‘I wish for a quiet, retiring gentleman, Mama. Lord Stanton is popular. He is always the centre of attention. Please try to understand.’
I am afraid I will fall in love with him.
The words she could not say near choked her. A man like Stanton, in an arranged marriage, would develop the same carelessness her father had demonstrated towards her mother; the same indifference Farlowe was now beginning to demonstrate, a mere six months into their marriage. Such indifference in a marriage of convenience would be tolerable. But that same indifference, if she were to fall in love with her husband... A handsome face with warm brown eyes materialized in her mind’s eye and her lips tingled in memory of his kiss. She could never resist him. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.
Stanton was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen, with his dark brown, wavy hair, his deep, soulful eyes, and his fine figure. Since their encounter last year, she had added those strong, muscular arms and the glimpse of dark chest hair to the tally of his attractions. And now she had experienced his kiss—how could she ever withstand such an onslaught? She might be inexperienced, but she suspected that kiss had triggered only the merest hint of the passion buried deep within her. No, she dare not expose her heart to such a man. That way, for sure, would result in heartbreak and despair.
‘Well, I do not understand, you provoking girl. Oh, where is Farlowe when I need him? I need his support. No one understands my trials.’
‘Please, Mama, may we speak again in the morning, before the betrothal is announced?’
‘The duke and Lord Stanton have agreed to announce the betrothal after dinner, tomorrow evening. But do not think the delay will favour your case, my girl, for my mind is quite made up. Just think, I shall be the envy of all, when our news becomes known.’
‘Mama, I cannot marry a man merely in order that you can boast to your acquaintances.’
‘Oh! You would make me sound the most uncaring parent in the world, Felicity. Have I not always put your welfare and happiness at the very top of my priorities?’ Lady Katherine sank back against the pillows and waved her salts beneath her nose again, her eyes closed. Then they snapped open and she sat up, nailing Felicity with a triumphant stare. ‘The duke has approved the match. He believes you and Stanton will suit very well. Do you dare to question his authority?’
If her mother was to start invoking the duke’s authority, Felicity knew she must concede her argument for now and try again tomorrow.
‘Goodnight, Mama. I hope you sleep well. I shall come to see you in the morning. Please try to understand—I want to be content in my marriage but I cannot believe Stanton will prove a comfortable husband.’
She bent and kissed her mother.
‘Do not think I shall yield on this, Felicity. There are times when you must realize that your elders have more worldly experience than you and know what is best.’
A bright morning saw Felicity up and about early, her determination not to wed Lord Stanton stronger than ever. He had prowled through her restless dreams, stirring strange and unwelcome yearnings deep within her. She had woken from those dreams, her heart racing, her skin hot and damp. And that was merely the result of a single kiss.
As she made her way downstairs it was apparent there was no one else up, other than servants, but that suited Felicity: the only person she wished to speak to was her mother, unlikely to be awake at this hour. Felicity crossed the library and let herself out on to the terrace, where she had strolled with Lord Stanton the previous evening.
She paused at the spot where they had kissed. Her pulse quickened at the memory even as the ever-present fear wormed through her belly. Unrequited love.