Chapter Nine
F elton stood on the terrace outside the library, refusing to partake in the niceties of welcoming guests to his home, or rather, his parents’ home. He had his own, not far from Sunnydale. Was he punishing his mother? Yes. Should he? That was a moot question. Her attack upon Lady Dorothea, whom he was quite positive had never even contemplated being so devious as to trap a man into marriage, had infuriated him. That his mother assumed he couldn’t master his own affairs on top of it had caused a rift in his feelings for his parent that he wasn’t sure would ever be bridged.
It was not that his mother was a mean person by nature, but her overzealous need for societal approval would sometimes make her forget that at her core, she was a good woman. Rose was like her, but Rose simply handled society differently by playing the role. It saddened him because he wished her a man who could look beneath the surface she presented to society and treasure her for the warm, good-hearted person she was.
There was only one woman he’d ever known who had been able to be warm and caring while at the same time be what society expected, even though she’d never debuted. He’d fallen in love with Belinda as a young boy and by the age of sixteen, couldn’t refrain from kissing her. He smiled softly as he thought back to that afternoon when they were in the village at a traveling fair. They had walked behind the puppeteer show to see how it was done and were disappointed to find a wall between them and their answer. Noticing they were alone, he couldn’t help but kiss her.
He’d received a well-deserved slap for his trouble. But even as she ran off in a huff, he’d been quite proud of himself, though explaining his red cheek to his mother had been a bit difficult.
The sound of the French doors opening behind him had him stiffening even as he scowled that someone would search him out when he obviously didn’t wish to be found.
“Ah, so here you are. Hiding.”
At the sound of Sommerset’s voice, he relaxed. “Not hiding. Making a point.”
Sommerset stepped up next to him, appearing to study the lawn where pall-mall would be played. “Looks like pouting.”
He faced his friend. “I do not pout. I make a point in whatever way is necessary.”
“I’m assuming you are not happy with your mother once again since she has been greeting the guests without you by her side.”
“That would be correct.” He didn’t miss the use of the word “again.” It did seem as if he and his mother had been at odds his whole life. No, that was not true. Only since Belinda had passed and she’d started trying to encourage him to choose another Mabry lady to marry.
“I don’t know what caused the argument this time, but she is being very solicitous to Lady Dorothea. So much so that not only did my wife notice it, but so did I, and you know these things usually pass me by with little acknowledgment.”
He harrumphed at that. Sommerset was almost as observant as he was.
“Did the argument perhaps have something to so with Lady Dorothea? As one of her chaperones, I should probably be informed.”
He considered his answer carefully, not wanting to reveal too much. “Suffice it to say, my mother made accusations with no facts, and I scolded her for it.”
Sommerset chuckled. “I gather she thought something was about between you and the lady in question. I would think she would know you better. Lady Dorothea is hardly the right match for you. She is far too warm, innocent, and kind, if a bit of a rambler.”
His friend’s description of the lady sounded so much like Belinda that he took umbrage, but with the last descriptor, he was able to let it pass like a bird heading south. “Yes, she does appear to enjoy talking in squiggly lines.”
Sommerset’s brows rose. “Squiggly lines? Not circles?”
He barely held back his smile. “No, she assures me it’s squiggly lines.”
At Sommerset’s laughter, Felton felt his pique vanish. “Mother is not happy that the lady is here because she’s afraid that Rose will wish to attend the Belinda School for Curious Ladies even more than she already does.”
“I didn’t realize Rose had such high aspirations.”
“You consider the school of high quality, then?”
Sommerset pondered his question for a few moments before answering. “I do. Though to be truthful, at first, I did so simply because my wife lectures there on occasion, and no, she doesn’t teach painting. That’s not one of the classes. But the more we visited, and the more I came to know the Duke and Duchess of Northwick, I came to understand the purpose and quality of the education.”
His friend’s opinion held a lot of sway over him. “Then I must ask you, since you know the school and my sister, do you think Rose would benefit from attending?” Though barely a few seconds elapsed, his stomach knotted, far too anxious for the answer.
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘benefit.’ Since it’s a school on par with Oxford, though much stricter since it is for ladies of the peerage, by definition, it benefits the minds of those who attend.”
“But would it make Rose more sought after by appropriate men?”
Sommerset’s brows rose. “Is that why she wants to attend, to make herself more popular among the men?”
At his nod, Sommerset’s brows furrowed. “I thought Lady Rose would be having to choose among multiple offers her very first season. I’m stymied why that isn’t the case, so I can’t say if attending the school would benefit her.”
It wasn’t what he’d hoped to learn, but he appreciated his friend’s honesty. “I believe her inability to garner a proposal has to do with her ability to be accepted.”
“I understand. She is like two different people. Do you think if she showed society who she is, she’d have more offers? It’s not as if the ton encourages eccentricities like Lady Dorothea.”
Felton’s immediate reaction was to defend the lady, but his logical side had to agree. In fact, it was that very unusual part of her he was hoping to rectify. “I don’t consider my sister to be that eccentric.”
“Yes, of course. Throwing food and tipping tea trays is really quite the norm.” Though Sommerset kept a serious face, his tawny eyes laughed at him.
“She only acts in that way among those she knows won’t judge her.”
“Exactly.”
Since his path of inquiry had led him to a dead end, he posed the question that he most wanted Sommerset’s opinion on. “Do you think my sister will lessen her chances by going to the school?”
“Now, that is a difficult question to answer. It could since people were beginning to think the women there bluestockings until Lady Elsbeth married Lord Mabry.”
Having maneuvered his friend onto the subject he was anxious to pursue, he continued his inquiry. “Is it simply that these women have an education or is there something else? Is it that they are considered unusual simply for attending?”
Sommerset shook his head and opened his mouth but then closed it. Finally, he spoke. “This is only my own observation, and I do believe my wife would have far more knowledge on the matter, though I’m sure she is biased, but it appears that these women, all of whom have rather unique flaws, have brought closer scrutiny to themselves because they attend the school and so their uniqueness, shall we say, becomes far more of a problem in a potential wife.”
He was pleased that Sommerset had confirmed his own suspicions, yet not pleased that his own task for both his sister’s sake and Belinda’s good name seemed far more monumental than he had first thought. “I appreciate your candor. I will seek your wife’s counsel as well on this matter since if my sister does not receive a proposal by the end of this house party, my father has given permission for her to attend the school.”
“Then wouldn’t it behoove you to meet the many young men who are arriving and judge which would make your sister a good husband? Then the issue of the school would no longer matter.”
As tempting as that suggestion was, he knew his sister’s wishes. If that wasn’t enough motivation to not help suitors for his sister’s hand, Lady Dorothea’s future was now at stake, and he was quite determined to solve that problem. “If I were to meet those men now, that would be far too agreeable to my mother. No, I believe I will simply support my sister in whatever she wishes to do.”
“You are a better sibling than I.” Sommerset shook his head. “I am forever at odds with my younger brother.”
Sommerset’s younger brother, Christopher, was just that…younger. “Is it that mistress he had while at Oxford?”
“If only that were the problem. Despite my warnings and our father’s example, a mistress alone would be a blessing. I’m worried I’ll find him dead in a gutter one day.”
He clapped his friend on the shoulder that had slumped. “Do not worry. Remember our misspent youth in the brothels and gaming hells. We made it through alive, much to your wife’s satisfaction, I guess.”
Sommerset smirked. “True. But we were first born. He seems hellbent on laughing his way through life.”
Felton chuckled, unable to stifle it. “I had the same thought about you after we left Eaton for Oxford.”
“You did? I was not so rakish as that.”
He raised his brows and stared at his friend. “Weren’t you?”
“I most certainly was not. And before you say another word, I’m going to return to my wife before she grows irritable at my absence.” With that, Sommerset turned on his heel and strode back into the library, leaving the terrace doors open.
“Coward.” Despite his good humor, his mind returned to the dilemma of Lady Dorothea, or rather the school’s reputation. He’d spent the morning skimming through a few of his father’s books on the human mind. He’d hoped to find a malady like the one Lady Dorothea had, but nothing was remotely similar. Most of what he’d read was merely theory. It appeared it was up to him to discover how to help her stay within the confines of a normal conversation. Trial and error were not the most efficient way to experiment, but it was what he was left with, so based upon his reading, he’d formulated a plan.
Of course, first, he’d have to make it clear that there would be no more kisses between them. For him to remain in control of his mother, he could not allow any more of such behavior, no matter how much he enjoyed it. He dared not give Lady Dorothea hope that there could ever be a relationship between them. Perhaps he should—
The sound of the library doors opening and closing reached him.
Now who was it? Quickly, he stepped out of sight. Not hearing a conversation, he concluded it had to be a single individual, most likely his father, skipping away for a quick drink and some quiet. Cautiously, he looked inside. At first, he didn’t see her, as her deep-blue dress matched the velvet of the wingback chairs exactly.
Lady Dorothea. Perfect. Striding in, he moved to the fireplace before which she sat.
“Oh.” She sprang up. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I’ll go.” She turned away and headed for the doors.
“Wait. I wish to talk to you.”
She looked about. “I cannot. Your mother has been so nice to me today. I do not want to incur her wrath again.”
Devil it, she was correct. “Then I’ll have Haggett fetch Lady Sommerset. Perhaps you could wait on the terrace?”
Still uncertain, she hesitated.
“I promise you, I have no argument with you. My upset was strictly with my mother.”
Finally, she nodded and scurried across the room and outside.
Striding out of the library, he found the butler in the foyer. After telling him to fetch Lady Sommerset, for Lady Dorothea needed her assistance, he waited in the corridor.
As Lady Sommerset exited the parlor, and he could hear the sound of many feminine voices. After the door closed and she searched the immediate area, he stepped from the shadows. “Lady Sommerset, this way.”
The lady, dressed in a lilac day dress, shook her head. “I should have guessed you were involved. What have you done with Lady Dorothea now?”
He straightened to his full height and frowned. “I do not know what I’ve done to engender such a remark, especially when I have asked you to attend her. I wish to speak to her, but she needs her chaperone.”
Lady Sommerset’s secret smile appeared, which was never a good omen. “Of course. That is my role during our stay. Where is she?”
He offered her his arm and she took it. “This way. She was in the library but decided to wait on the terrace. She is particularly concerned about incurring my mother’s scorn.”
“I don’t know why. Your mother seems to have taken a sudden liking to her.”
“Yes, well, that was not by her choice.”
“Hmm, why do I have a feeling this is all connected to you leaving your parents and sister alone to greet the guests as they arrive?”
He halted at the closed doors to the library. “Because, my lady, you are particularly astute.”
Lady Sommerset laughed even as she took her hand from his arm and opened one of the doors herself. “Flattery will get you far, Harewood.” Striding forward, the lady stepped outside and spoke to Lady Dorothea, who nodded before entering.
Not wanting anything to appear improper, he met her halfway. “May we speak, then?”
She looked over her shoulder to make sure Lady Sommerset was within sight then nodded. “Yes. What do you wish to discuss?”
Her manner was somewhat reserved, and he didn’t like it. “First, why did you seek the sanctuary of the library? Did my mother cause your wish to escape?”
“No. As I said, she’s been very kind. It was simply that there were so many women. I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a parlor with that many. Even at school, there are only the five of us. And I only know these women by acquaintance, so it is difficult to converse, not knowing what subjects they have an interest in that I might know something about.”
As she spoke, she relaxed. He was pleased that she could speak freely with him. “And what subjects were they discussing?”
“Well, there are the many activities that Lady Enderly has planned, which has spurred conversations on appropriate clothing, the latest fashion, the travel experience from when each came, and the men who have arrived or will be arriving.”
He stifled a grin. “Then I’m to assume my father has the men out and about?”
“Yes. They are in the stables at the moment, though—they have been there for hours. I imagine they went for a ride, but how could they if he doesn’t know when the next gentleman will arrive? I have never been to a house party, so I’m still assimilating to the protocols.”
Assimilating to the protocols? He found her phrasing intriguing. “Today is only the first day. I’m sure you will find this party very educational.”
Her face brightened and the lighter specks in her eyes seemed to dance. “I never thought of it that way. Here I was feeling awkward and out of place, but if I approach this party like a class at school or a lecture at the Royal Institution, then I’ll feel much more comfortable. No, not a lecture. It must be something where I am a part of it. If I think of this like going to a Panorama or Vauxhall or a museum, then it will be much more familiar. I hadn’t thought about this experience that way. The way we approach events creates the pathways we take in life. Each one offers us…”
He grinned, unable to hide his pleasure in her ideas. Part of him disliked it that he would try to help her better fit into society’s expectations, but if he was to make Belinda’s school a place that was revered, he had to. Still, if she proved able to make the necessary changes, he would miss this. Her mind was truly beautiful and far too many men would never see that nor understand it. She was like the rose that cross-pollenates and blooms not red and not white, but a mixture of both, beautiful in its uniqueness. Yet it would be dug out and discarded because it did not bloom the color that was wished for.
“…that is why making mistakes is so important. They are our most valuable lessons, yet there are many places where these are not accepted.”
A warmth filled his chest, and he found himself smiling even as she continued, completely unaware of how delightful she was.
“We must all be perfect, but that is not part of our creation. We are born imperfect and to aspire to such is fruitless. In addition, if we were to achieve such perfection—”
He pulled her to him and kissed her. Her lips were open and he slipped his tongue between them.
She responded with something close to glee and opened wider, grasping him around the middle and pressing her bountiful breasts against his ribs.
Not immune to the feminine curves in his arms, he deepened the kiss, tilting her head and inhaling the lemony scent that was her and her alone. It wrapped around his senses, leaving him in a cocoon of her making.
Her soft moan filled his mouth, and he snapped his eyes open. What was he doing? He pulled away, even stepping back as if she were a siren who had magical powers, but he could still taste her.
She opened her eyes. “…we would be boring.” She grinned, very pleased at something.
He, on the other hand, was anything but. His reaction to her was far from appropriate, especially since he hoped to get her married off post-haste. That she somehow linked him to being boring did not sit well with ego, either. “Boring?”
“Yes. If we were all perfect, I do believe it would be utterly boring. There would be nothing to critique. Can you imagine our conversations?”
He prided himself on being able to follow her, but devil it, he couldn’t seem to concentrate. How could she rattle on after that kiss? “I just kissed you.”
She nodded. “Yes, you did. Again.” She glanced toward the terrace doors, where Lady Sommerset stood, her back to them, no doubt purposefully. “I find it so very helpful.”
Helpful? His wits must be addled, but he found himself asking, anyway. “How is a kiss helpful?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try.” His tone came out harsh, but he didn’t care one wit. The woman was beyond baffling.
She looked at the ceiling, as if it could help her figure out her own thoughts. “I think the best way to describe it is like a tangled mess of twine.”
Bloody twine? He just frowned, his patience wearing away.
“Yes, that’s it. My thoughts form a tangled mess of twine in my head, and when you kiss me, or I kiss you, the twine shoots skyward and disappears. Then when you stop, it comes back down in a neat line in my mind, and I can speak upon one idea at a time.”
As much as he wanted to growl, he refrained because her analogy actually made sense in an odd way, though why he would expect it to be a normal way, he didn’t know. He stepped back further, behind a small table as much to avoid the temptation of her now rather plump lips and rosy cheeks as to contemplate what to do with this new revelation.
When he didn’t reply, she clasped her hands together. “Is that not a usual reaction to a kiss?”
Her question had his body heating again as it remembered how much he enjoyed the sensation of kissing her. Though irritated by his own response to her, his pride was somewhat soothed by the description of her reaction to him. That his kiss caused her to lose her many ideas was telling. “Yes, it is common to lose all thought during a kiss.” But what to make of the rest of it?
“Then I simply must kiss you more often.”
Even as he stiffened, she frowned. “But that is highly improper.” Her hazel gaze found his, and he could clearly see the sadness in her eyes as tears gathered there. “Then there is no hope for me. I must ramble my life away or be silent. If I can just be silent long enough to attract a husband before…” She turned away, not finishing her sentence.
Before what? Before her fourth season? Before she graduated from the school? Before she made a fool of herself in public? Before—It hit him hard as he suddenly understood her fear, her reaction to his mother’s accusation in the garden, to him being in the library alone when she’d come in.
He was a fairly observant fellow and had not missed her mother slipping into the garden at the last ball, or her noticeable absence when supposedly chaperoning her daughter. It always seemed the Mabrys came to her rescue. It was obvious she needed to marry before her mother caused a scandal and made all chances of marriage disappear. Unfortunately, she was correct. Men would assume she would be similar, yet he alone knew the innocence of her first kiss.
The same protective feeling he felt for his sister rose up into his chest. He also was obligated to make things right, as her innocence would be questioned the first time another man kissed her. Even at the thought of their kiss, his body reacted again. Devil it. “I may have a solution.” Even as he said the words, he was well aware it was nothing more than an experiment, but if it worked, they both would be pleased with the outcome.
She sniffed but didn’t face him. “What kind of solution?”
Reaching into his pocket, he took out a handkerchief and forced himself to walk to her and offer it.
She accepted and wiped her eyes, then crumpled it in her hand and turned to face him.
He returned to his place behind the table, not wanting to allow for any appearance of impropriety. He glanced to the open doors and found Lady Sommerset sketching. She held a wooden board no larger than her hand with a sheet of paper on it and used a small pencil. She was a terrible chaperone.
Turning back to Lady Dorothea, he found her lips quirking. “Lady Sommerset is always prepared to capture the beauty of the moment. It makes her happy.”
Her remark reminded him of what she’d said in the garden about being happy. She was right—he was happy when he won a bet. From now on, he would be more observant of his own instances of happiness. But at the moment, he wished to make her happy. “After much research,” which had yielded him nothing but had instigated his own ideas, “I have a way to help you stay in a conversation without losing your compatriots—and without kissing me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Truly?”
He would not lie, as he could not be sure. “If you can keep any response to three sentences at the most, it will curb your thoughts and eliminate more robust, hmm, squiggly lines.”
“It will?” The excitement in her face made him uncomfortable. “How?”
“The reason this can work, and I say can because only you can do it, is because it forces you to focus on two items at once. You will focus on not only what you wish to say, but also on how many sentences, thereby forcing you to choose the best statements to make a point. Both parameters will help you limit your replies.”
“That does make sense. It would keep the twine to three strings at most. How tangled could they possibly get?” She grinned and held up three fingers.
He understood that she had just responded in three sentences. Pleased by her effort, he nodded approvingly. “Well done.”
Her smile faltered. “And if I go over the allotted three? What should I do? There need to be ramifications, don’t you think?”
The thought of that did not please him at all. “Is that what they do at Belinda’s school?”
She waved his words away, looking toward the terrace doors once more. “Of course not. But this is far more important than the Pythagorean theorem or Copernican principle. This is about my future.”
“What do you propose?”
Her brows lowered then she snapped her head back to meet his gaze. “If I fail in my goal, I will be silent for the rest of the event, whatever it will be.” She pointed at him. “But you must promise not to draw me out when I am silent, as you are wont to do.”
The back of his neck pricked at her deduction of his actions over the last couple of days. “I agree to respect your silence.”
“Good. So no more kisses and only three sentences.”
Even as he imagined what the fortnight would be like if she succeeded, he squelched the inclination to tell her she needn’t be that way with him. Her success would be the beginning of his success and that of Belinda’s school, and all the students there would benefit, including his sister. He could not ask for more. It was a simple solution that put all the work firmly on her small shoulders.
Even as guilt snaked its way into his conscience, he pushed it aside. Lady Dorothea would benefit as well, perhaps even garner a proposal. It stood to reason that she would make the change for the better.
But was it truly for the better?
Lady Dorothea moved toward him. “Thank you for thinking of me. Your sister said you are very different from what everyone thinks of you, and I can see she was correct. I’d best gather Lady Sommerset and begin practicing my new conversation skills.” She snapped her mouth shut and grinned, then strode outside.
For some reason, the triumph he’d expected to feel was missing. This was definitely not one of those moments of happiness, but it should have been. Not willing to contemplate the feeling any longer, he left the library and made his way down to the billiard room. He would help his father with his hosting duties and observe the men his mother hoped to pair with his sister. Perhaps one there could appreciate Lady Dorothea as well.