Chapter Three
Felicity eyed last night’s damaged gown draped over the chair.
A vibrant shade of orchid, it had been one of her favorites until the bodice had become so snug.
Daisy, her lady’s maid, had apologized profusely, fearing she had drawn the dress’s ribbons too tight or not pulled the laces tight enough on Felicity’s stays.
Felicity knew better. Once again, she had outgrown a Madame Couire creation.
She turned back to her glum expression in the dressing table mirror, wincing as Daisy twisted her hair into a fashionable braid that encircled her head.
“Forgive me, my lady,” the maid said. “I didn’t mean to pull.”
“I know—I just need you to go slower. Getting dressed for the day is my only excuse for not already being down in the parlor as His Grace commanded.” Chance had done his usual—summoned a meeting of his sisters, affectionately and sometimes not so affectionately known as the flock.
And he had done so at an unholy hour of the morning.
She hadn’t even enjoyed her first cup of chocolate.
“I am in no mood for my brother today. Does Cook have any fresh eels? His Grace needs a bucketful of them in his bed. If not, I shall need to visit the pond.”
Daisy snorted, then hurried to cover her mouth. But nothing could hide the laughter in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, struggling to assume a serious air. “Now, now, my lady. You know His Grace only has your best interests in mind.”
“His Grace only has his monthly allowance in mind,” Felicity grumbled.
She glanced at the bedroom door. “Have you seen Lady Merry this morning? Do you know whether she has gone down yet?” With four sisters married, the remaining three no longer shared rooms, leaving Felicity feeling disconnected.
“I most certainly do not want to be the first in the parlor to face the interrogation.”
“I heard Jenny in the hallway. Surely, that must mean Lady Merry has already gone down before you.”
“I hope so. Out of the two of us, she forces His Grace to behave with a little bit of compassion and respect.” Felicity wiggled a brow. “I believe he is afraid of her.”
“All the maids believe you have the right of it there, Lady Felicity. We think he fears her almost as much as he fears Lady Grace and Lady Blessing.” Daisy stepped back and returned the brush and unused hairpins to the table.
“I am afraid we are all finished here. I am sorry I completed it in such a timely manner.”
“Well, you made it last as long as you could, and for that, I am grateful.” Felicity rose from the cushioned stool and meandered over to the window before heading out the door. She was in no mood for Chance this morning. No mood at all.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted her musings. Merry stuck her head inside and glared at Felicity. “Come along. We might as well get this over with.”
“I make no promises as to my behavior.” A sudden surge of defiance filled Felicity.
“Good.” Merry looped her arm through hers. “With the two of us against Seri and Chance, the odds are even, but I like to think we outnumber them. After all, Chance is not nearly as quick on his feet as we are.”
“True.” Merry’s outlook brightened Felicity’s mood considerably.
As they entered the parlor, they groaned in unison.
Chance already stood in his usual place, in front of the hearth, with two chairs strategically placed in front of him.
Serendipity stood off to the side, reminding Felicity of an avenging angel ready to cleave them in two if they didn’t make haste and find husbands.
Arms still linked, they went to the chairs and flounced down onto them.
“I am very disappointed in both of you,” Chance said.
“Then we are even,” Felicity retorted, “because I am very disappointed in you, too. You could have at least waited to hold your ridiculous meeting until after breakfast. I have yet to have even a single sip of chocolate or tea.”
“Then I shall speak to Daisy,” Chance said, “about not taking better care of her mistress. She should have arranged that while you were dressing.” He clasped his hands to the small of his back and started pacing.
“You must refrain from hiding in the kitchens, or you will never find a husband. Do you wish to remain a spinster and live under the same roof with me all the rest of your days?”
“Father provided an ample allowance for all of us,” Merry said, coming to Felicity’s rescue. “She would not have to share the same home as you.”
“And you!” Chance pointed at his youngest sister. “Hiding not in the nursery, but in Lady Frederica’s former suite? Are you mad?”
“Freddie told me if ever I should go to her former country home that she had some lovely books I would enjoy,” Merry said with amazing innocence.
Felicity was impressed with her sister’s ability to keep a straight face while telling such an obvious lie.
“And you ruined another gown,” Serendipity said to Felicity as she took a step forward.
“Really, Felli. You must at least attempt to show some restraint. Thank heavens a new modiste moved to the village, so we’ll not have to wait until we return to Town to not only have last night’s dress repaired but to have the seams let out in your other gowns too.
I assume they have become uncomfortably tight as well? ”
As a matter of fact, they hadn’t, and Serendipity’s insinuation stung. “They are fine,” Felicity snapped. “And if our straits are so dire, I shall pay for my gown repairs out of my own pin money.”
“You shall not!” Chance roared. He rolled his broad shoulders, making his large frame even more forbidding.
He would be a harbinger of doom to someone else.
Felicity knew him to be harmless. “Our straits are not dire,” he said, “but the extent of my patience is.” He snorted like an angry bull and paced some more, apparently attempting to calm himself.
“Forgive me for raising my voice, but you know we are not in dire straits, and you should never say that. Not even in jest. Many are having issues due to poor investment schemes and failed crops. Thankfully, Mr. Sutherland, the elder, keeps all that well in hand and offers me excellent guidance.”
“I believe that is the kindest thing I have ever heard you say about our solicitor.” Felicity shifted in the chair, longing for a cup of chocolate and a cup of tea. “Is that all, brother? We know you do not appreciate it when we hide. That is part of the reason we do it.”
Merry giggled. “Touché, Felli!”
“No, that is not all,” Chance said through gritted teeth.
“If you two had seen fit to take part in the festivities last evening, you would have met the new Earl of Wakefield. He inherited the title upon the recent death of his uncle. The man is young, from the gentry class, and handles himself quite well, if I do say so myself. He is also in search of a wife.”
“And I have yet to discover any untoward rumors about this new lord,” Serendipity said. “Unlike his uncle, he appears to be averse to gambling and determined to restore the Wakefield name.”
“Averse to gambling and determined to restore the Wakefield name,” Felicity repeated while trying not to groan at this revelation. “In other words, he is also in search of a dowry. A fine, fat one. Need I remind you we are to marry for love? Not someone’s desire for our money?”
“You could at least meet him,” Serendipity said, clipping her words so sharply that she reminded Felicity of an angry hen.
“Is that all?” Felicity asked again. She wasn’t about to share that she had already met the eloquent earl and liked him a great deal. However, the news that he was more than likely a dowry hunter dampened her enthusiasm. She wanted a husband who liked her for herself, not for her money.
“Yes, our dear, unhappy keepers, is that all?” Merry asked. “Felli and I are going into the village after breakfast, and we would like to enjoy the walk rather than be roasted by the hot midday sun.”
“Take your parasols and wear your gloves,” Serendipity reminded her.
“And yes, that is all. I honestly do not know why we bother. You two are worse than Blessing, Fortuity, Grace, and Joy ever were. But please, I beg you, and so does Chance, please stop hiding. So far, your antics have gone unnoticed by the gossips, but that will not last forever.”
Their antics had gone unnoticed by the gossips because the servants of the ton were their loyal and trusted friends. Those who took care of the aristocratic households were the lines of communication that fed the rumor business.
Both Felicity and Merry curtsied, then scurried from the room before Chance or Serendipity remembered something else to harp on them about. Arms once more linked, they headed to the garden after asking Walter to serve them breakfast there.
Once they were seated in the shade beside the reflecting pool, they both exhaled in relief.
“I believe we have worn Chance down,” Merry said.
“Do not underestimate him.” Felicity lifted her face to the gentle breeze and breathed in the refreshing aroma of their mother’s roses in full bloom. “When I smell the sweetness of these flowers, I always feel like Mama is back here with us. She always smelled of roses, didn’t she?”
Merry smiled. “She did—and I feel her too. I think she and Papa are watching over us.”
“I hope so.”
A bee lazily buzzed from blossom to blossom.
Birdsong filled the air, and the musical trickling of the fountain filled Felicity with a calmness she sorely needed.
She resettled herself more comfortably on the cushioned wrought-iron chair.
“Do you think poor Walters will remember we are out here? Fipps was not with him when we asked to have breakfast here in the garden.”