Chapter Five #3
With the butler’s help, the Earl of Wakefield hurried from the room.
“Thank heavens the man did not die on us,” Serendipity said as she plopped back into her chair.
“That would have made for some interesting gossip,” Merry commented.
“Merry!” Felicity sagged into her seat and propped her head in her hands. What an afternoon it had been—a disturbing one in so many ways. She picked up a biscuit and bit into it.
Immediately, a bitterness so sharp and choking that it made her jaws throb filled her mouth. She jumped up and spat the mouthful into the bushes. “Oh, good heavens, what on earth did I do to them?”
Merry hazarded a nibble, then did the same, spitting the bite into a planter of lilies. She coughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “The man is going to think you wished to poison him.”
Horrified, Felicity stared down at the innocent biscuit that smelled so lemony and was a beautiful golden brown.
What had gone wrong? What had she done? And, oh dear heavens, what would Lord Wakefield surely think?
Then it came to her, making her gasp. “The sugar. Walters came in just as I was about to add the rest of the sugar.” She groaned, closing her eyes and seeing her mistake as plain as day.
“I failed to add the sugar and doubled—nay, not only doubled but tripled the zest from the lemon and added some lime as well.” She held her head.
“He will think I tried to poison him to scare him away, because I told him we saw his garden.”
“You what?” Serendipity looked sharply at each of them in turn.
Merry assumed a nonchalant air and sipped her tea. “We merely passed by the Wakefield estate on our way home from the village.”
“The Wakefield estate is not on the main thoroughfare.” Serendipity sat taller, obviously winding up to take them to task.
“I knew Lord Wakefield was coming to call today. He asked permission when we met in Mettlestone’s.” Felicity shot Merry a silencing glare. They might as well confess. Serendipity would discover the truth of it anyway.
“He asked permission to come calling as soon as he was introduced to you in Mettlestone’s? That was rather bold of him.” Serendipity’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me the rest. I see it brewing, and you are wrinkling your nose.”
Drat her infernal telltale nose. Felicity pinched it as if that would calm the traitorous thing. “I met him in Lady Atterley’s kitchen on the night of her dinner party. Except he thought me a kitchen maid rather than a daughter of Broadmere.”
Serendipity slowly pulled in a deep breath and held it, a sure sign she was doing her level best to control her temper. “And how did he behave when he thought you were a servant?”
“He was kindness itself and spoke to me as respectfully as he spoke today.”
Her sister gave her a long, slow look, then aimed her scowl at Merry. “Felicity would have never taken it upon herself to spy on the Wakefield estate if she had not been encouraged.”
With a defiant tip to her chin, Merry folded her hands on the table. “I simply thought it wise of her to have a look around. A lady must take in as much information as possible when it comes to suitors. Is that not why you have so many resources who keep you apprised of the latest gossip?”
“Well, apparently they are slipping, since I was not informed of the drastic state of the earl’s manor, which you two discovered—in quite an unseemly way, I might add. How bad was it?”
Before Merry could elaborate, Felicity spoke up.
“It appears the earl inherited an estate riddled with disrepair and in dire need of proper tending by a bevy of servants, which he does not have.” She slowly pushed away her tea, which had gone cold, much like her poor, aching heart.
“He needs my dowry. Badly. Either that, or he must find an heiress to marry.”
Serendipity stirred her tea, quietly clacking the silver spoon against the sides of the porcelain cup. “I was aware he was determined to restore the Wakefield name, but I had yet to discover that his country estate was in a shambles. It makes one wonder about his property in Town.”
“I would not describe it as a shambles.” Felicity felt so bad for the poor earl, and even worse for herself. Now, she would probably never know if he truly liked her as he had said. “It simply needs a great deal of work.”
After a sip of her tea, Serendipity nodded. “Well, perhaps it was providence stepping in to help you be rid of him. Felli. Your next caller will be more prosperous.”
“My next caller?” Incredulous, Felicity snorted. “I am two and twenty, and Lord Wakefield is the only caller I have ever received. What does that tell you, Seri?”
“It tells me you should stay out of the kitchens during festivities and see to the task of finding a gentleman worthy of you.”
“Even though I am two stone heavier than I should be and not nearly as lovely as the rest of my sisters.”
“I have never said that,” Serendipity claimed. “You are obviously overset by this afternoon’s events. Perhaps you should go upstairs and lie down.”
“You are not Mama. Stop trying to send me to my room.” Felicity rose from the table, determined to salvage the day and take hold of what little hope she had left in her heart.
She liked Lord Wakefield—even if it was against her better judgment.
She had to make things right. “I am going to make a batch of my best chocolate teacakes and take them to him.”
“You cannot call upon him,” Serendipity sputtered. “It is not done.”
Her course set, Felicity dismissed her sister with a flick of her hand. “It is done now, and Merry will come with me. Will you not, Merry?”
“Most definitely,” Merry said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”