Chapter Seven #2
“She promised Mama she would not marry until the rest of us were settled in our own happily-ever-afters. Only then will Seri consider entering the Marriage Mart herself.” While Felicity was grateful for her sister’s sacrifice, she often wondered if that was Seri’s way of hiding from the inevitable, as all the rest of them had tried.
“Chance will get her married off as soon as Felli and I are gone,” Merry said from behind them. “He’ll not be satisfied until he receives his full inheritance.”
At Drake’s quizzical look, Felicity explained, “For Chance to inherit full access to the Broadmere accounts, all of us, his seven sisters, must have happily settled down in love matches.”
“A love match is a rare thing,” Drake said. “Marriages are more like business agreements for many. I assume a sharp-eyed solicitor is watching to ensure those terms are met?”
“You assume correctly. Mr. Sutherland, the elder, has been the Broadmere solicitor for as long as I can remember, and he is training his son, Mr. Sutherland, the younger, to take his place once he retires.” Felicity had always liked both solicitors.
They seemed to be kind and honest persons, which was not surprising.
Mama and Papa would not have bothered with any other sort.
The soft rumbling of distant thunder drew her eyes to the sky once more. “I fear our promenade is soon to be over. Perhaps we should start for home.”
Scowling at the clouds that dared to end their visit, Drake nodded. “Allow me to escort you, ladies. With any luck, we should be able to make it to Broadmere Hall before the skies open up.”
“That would be very nice,” Felicity said, ignoring the smug looks of those traipsing off to the shelter of their carriages. “I find a brisk walk quite refreshing.”
Thunder rumbled again, louder this time.
“We had better hurry,” Merry said, “or we shall soon find ourselves refreshed by a good dousing.”
With her arm still looped through his, Felicity picked up the pace.
Hearty laughter bubbled free of her as the three of them scurried down the lane, not quite breaking into a run, but walking a great deal faster than what was considered proper.
The clean, fresh scent of the approaching rain rode high on the wind, urging them on.
There was something exhilarating about running alongside the man who swore he was interested only in her, and even the threat of a rainstorm didn’t dampen his spirits.
Her joy in the simple things was contagious.
Merry and Drake joined in her laughter as they raced along like three children escaping their daily lessons.
She had never imagined courtship could be this lovely.
Lightning flashed, making Merry squeal. “Oh my goodness! Here it comes!”
The sky opened up and kept its promise of a good soaking.
Felicity opened her parasol and tried to shield Drake and herself, but it merely slowed the drenching.
Merry added her parasol to the mix as they all huddled together, but their efforts were futile.
The silk and cotton of the frilly things filtered the water more than stopped it.
The fashion accessory was meant to shield one from the sun, not the rain.
Felicity’s bonnet soon drooped so low, she removed it so she could see. “I thought we could at least make it home,” she said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the deluge.
“Forgive me for not having a carriage, my lady.” Dark hair drenched and plastered to his head, Drake shook the water off his hat and carried it at his side. “This is contemptible.”
“It is not,” Felicity said, finding his appearance wild and breathtaking. “I like the rain.”
“She does,” Merry chimed in. “As a child, she was always the last to come inside whenever it rained, and that was only at Mama’s insistence.”
He removed his coat and draped it around Felicity’s shoulders. “If you catch your death, I shall never forgive myself.”
His warm scent of sandalwood and citrus surrounded her, making her breathe deeply to savor it.
“I am quite hearty, my lord. This wallflower is not a fragile lily.” She couldn’t help but stare at the way his soaked shirt clung to his muscular chest. My goodness, it was as though he wore no shirt at all.
With great reluctance and finding a strength she never knew she had, she tore her eyes away and forced her gaze back to his face.
He gave her that lopsided smile that said he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Her cheeks heated with a furious blush.
“Will you come inside, Lord Wakefield?” Merry shouted as she pushed open the gate to Broadmere Hall. “I am sure Chance would gladly offer you a brandy to help you dry out.”
Without pulling his gaze from Felicity’s, he slowly shook his head. “I best not, Lady Merry. You and Lady Felicity hurry along now, before this soaking makes you ill.”
Hugging his coat around her one last time, Felicity removed it ever so slowly. “Thank you, Drake. I truly enjoyed our time today.”
He accepted it with a nod so formal, one would think them in a ballroom. “I enjoyed our time as well, Felicity. More than you will ever know.” He bowed over her hand, then grazed a quick kiss to her gloved fingers. “Until our next time, my lady.”
“Yes.” Felicity tried to remember how to breathe, but it was so difficult with her heart thumping like a herd of galloping horses. “Until our next time.”
*
Drake groaned as he walked home, ignoring the storm pelting him down the lane.
Gads alive. The way her porcelain skin had glistened with the rain.
She was a voluptuous sculpture of the rarest marble.
A sea nymph risen from the waves with her hair in disarray, clinging to her face and sending curling tendrils along her throat, creeping toward her bosom.
Felicity was the living embodiment of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus.
And the way the wet muslin clung to her curves…
He groaned again. What he wouldn’t give for the opportunity to worship her as she so deserved. He shook his head at the rakish thought. No, Felicity deserved the very best. While he wouldn’t mind stealing a sumptuous kiss or two, the best would be saved for their wedding night.
Their wedding night. He liked the sound of that and wondered how soon he might be able to make that happen.
Instinct told him not to push too hard. Such an action could be misread as eagerness to get his hands on her dowry.
No, he had to be patient. Courting Felicity with purpose and care was something they both needed.
He lifted his face to the rain and smiled.
She loved rain, cress-and-butter sandwiches, and was happiest in her kitchens.
A lady of privilege who shunned the chaos of Society for simple things and quiet ways.
His shy little mouse was more powerful than she could possibly realize.
There was a steeliness within her of which she had no idea.
Felicity would weather anything and everything with grace. She possessed him, heart and soul.
Could he be any more fortunate? He stretched out his arms and embraced the deluge, delighting in the revelations the storm had brought.
Then his conscience nudged him with a quiet reminder of the very large lie that could ruin it all.
He dropped his arms and unleashed a heavy sigh.
How would Felicity react to the greatest ruse of all: his very-much-alive uncle?