Chapter Ten #2
“Lady Felicity, how lovely to see you again,” said a smiling gentleman she couldn’t recall ever meeting.
Drat it all. She was such a horror when it came to remembering names and, in this case, faces as well. Returning the man’s smile, she curtsied. “I only just arrived. How are you finding this lovely summer gathering?” Maybe if she kept him talking long enough, it would trigger her memory.
“Lady Joy and Sir Jansen’s hospitality is always exemplary.” The gentleman, comely enough with his dark hair and winning smile, offered his arm. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for a stroll outside? Refreshments abound, and a cool breeze has set in that many of the guests are enjoying.”
Oh dear. How on earth could she search for Drake whilst on the arm of another man?
What the devil was this person’s name, and where in heaven’s name had they met?
Unable to think of a polite way to decline, she took his arm and fell in step alongside him.
“A cool breeze will be most welcome. The carriage ride over grew quite warm.”
“I would imagine so,” he said. “I rode rather than bothering with a carriage. After all, Tinslow is but the next estate over.”
Lord Tinslow! Joy and Jansen’s neighbor. Now she remembered him. He had been quite nice at a dinner or something of that sort that Joy had hosted. Felicity relaxed somewhat, but the problem of her arm linked with his remained. She needed to remove herself and find Drake.
“Are your crops doing well, Lord Tinslow? My brother was saying there has not been nearly enough rain this year.” She had no idea what else to say to the man. From what Joy had told her, he was much like her. He kept to himself and rarely left his country estate for Town.
“Barley and wheat thrive so far, but I agree with His Grace. We could use more rain.” He snorted in amusement. “Something not often said here in England. Do you not agree?”
“Oh, indeed.” Good heavens, could either of them possibly be more boring?
As they stepped outside, she furtively glanced all around, not only in search of Drake but also one of her sisters to rescue her.
She had no idea how to make small talk without sounding like a complete fool, and also didn’t wish to encourage the very nice viscount.
“Would you care for some lemonade?” Lord Tinslow asked. “I would be most happy to fetch it.”
“That would be lovely,” she hurried to say. Not only would it release her from his arm but give her a moment to think of a way to excuse herself from his company once he returned.
As he headed for the refreshment table, she stretched up on tiptoe in a most unladylike manner, searching more for one of her sisters at this point than Drake. Where was Serendipity when she needed her?
“Who on earth are you looking for?” Grace asked as she joined her in the shade of one of the white tents dotting the grounds next to the gardens. “As if I didn’t know.”
“I need an escape.”
“You are not going to the kitchens.”
“I do not wish to go to the kitchens.” Well, she did, but Felicity had already decided that wouldn’t possibly do this time. “Lord Tinslow is paying attention to me.”
Grace wrinkled her nose. “Lord Tinslow? I do not recall meeting a Lord Tinslow.”
“Neither did I, but all of us met him at one of Joy’s dinner parties. He is her neighbor. A viscount.” Felicity forced a smile. “And he is coming my way with lemonade. Whatever shall I do?”
“I suggest you drink it. It is quite warm today.”
“You are a troll.”
“That did not bother me when we were children, and it bothers me even less now.” Grace eyed the crowd. “Where is your Lord Wakefield? I thought you meant to find him and mend your fences?”
“I have yet to locate him,” Felicity said, then cleared her throat as Lord Tinslow joined them. “Grace, you remember Lord Tinslow?”
Grace smiled and curtsied. “Of course, how could I not?”
The gentleman bowed. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Grace. Would you care for some lemonade?” He offered her the second glass that had obviously been meant for himself. But then his pleasant demeanor melted into a disapproving scowl. “Lord Wakefield. I am surprised he is here.”
Felicity bristled, and Grace’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. Felicity appreciated her sister allowing her to take control of the conversation. “Why would Lord Wakefield’s presence surprise you?” Felicity asked, struggling to keep her tone even.
“The man’s uncle was a despicable cove, my lady.” He snorted like a bull about to charge. “Forgive me for speaking so strongly in your presence.”
“You condemn Lord Wakefield for his uncle’s behavior?” She wasn’t about to play the innocent maiden and let it go. “The child should pay for the sins of the father? Is that how you truly feel, my lord?”
“Well, I—”
“Have you ever met Lord Wakefield?” She handed her untouched lemonade off to a passing servant, observing with some glee that her action did not go unnoticed by Lord Tinslow.
The gentleman offered her an apologetic tip of his head. “I do beg your pardon, Lady Felicity. Please excuse me.” Then he turned on his heel and hurried away.
Grace giggled. “Oh my goodness. Our little mouse has finally found her claws.” She hugged Felicity, then nudged her away. “I am proud of you. Now, go talk to your Lord Wakefield and set things right.”
Felicity turned and found Drake staring at her with such pain and loss that it broke her heart. Rather than run to him as she wanted, she forced herself to meander as though doing her part to mingle with her sister’s guests. She didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention in their direction.
Within an arm’s length of him, she curtsied.
“I am glad you are here,” she said ever so softly.
The grounds were so crowded. They would surely be overheard.
He remained silent, then his gaze slowly tore away and shifted to something or someone behind her.
She turned and discovered that Lord Tinslow had returned to speak with Grace.
Their conversation appeared to be very animated.
“Drake?” She shifted in front of him, attempting to block his view. “Might we stroll around the grounds? Joy is quite proud of the view of their lake.”
“What about your viscount?” he asked with such bitterness that it backed her up a step.
She jutted her chin higher. She understood how things had appeared, but this sullenness would not do at all. “I do not possess a viscount. In fact, I struggled to remember the man’s name when he approached me.”
“I see.” Jealousy flashed in Drake’s narrowed eyes. “Why am I here, Felicity? Punishment before you dismiss me permanently?”
“Joy was unaware that our courtship was in the midst of a brief recess.” Try as she might to remain calm and understanding, Felicity did not like this side of him. “Stop being so surly, or I shall leave you to yourself until you can behave in a more civil manner. We have much to resolve.”
“How am I supposed to behave when you refuse to see me for a fortnight, then lift my hopes with this invitation only to show me that a more acceptable suitor is showering you with attention?” He bared his teeth like an enraged beast. “You are not the wallflower you claim to be, my lady.” He shook his head.
“Oh no, I would say you are well on your way to a much more acceptable proposal than mine before this party is over.”
She clenched her fists at her sides, struggling not to shake them at him.
“You may go, sir, until you are better behaved. I am sick to death of males who act like rude children. Either I am snubbed because the lot of you believe I am the cull of the litter, or I am treated like a broodmare with a mouthful of money to hand over as soon as the marriage contract is signed. Well, no, sir! Not anymore. If you cannot treat me with the respect I deserve, you shall take your leave of me.” She stamped her foot. “Good day to you, Lord Wakefield.”
So angry she was about to cry, she whirled about and headed inside, ignoring the stares of those who had witnessed her outburst. How dare he!
Granted, she had made him wait overly long, and she could understand how the Lord Tinslow situation might appear, but where was her calm, understanding Drake?
She turned to the archway that led to the kitchens and found it blocked by a pair of sheepish-looking footmen. “Excuse me. I should like to pass.”
The younger one on the left wrinkled his freckled nose. “Lady Joy said we was to keep you out of the kitchens, my lady.” He gave her an apologetic bow. “Begging your pardon, but she was most firm about that.”
“Was she now?” Felicity glared at them, but they didn’t step aside.
They stood there, uncomfortably fidgeting in place.
“Well, fine.” She couldn’t retire to her room without feigning illness, and her sisters would know that was a lie.
Grace had witnessed her tidy little scene with Drake, and Felicity felt sure that information was currently traveling at an alarming speed to each of her sisters.
There had to be somewhere she could take refuge to think through this irritating development.
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what had come over Drake.
She understood how he might be a little jealous, and she found that quite flattering.
But his surliness? She huffed. That was most unwelcome.
“Joy’s private conservatory. Surely, I could take refuge there.” She hurried down the hallway to the left of the stairs, thankful her sister had taken up an interest in painting while temporarily confined to a bath chair after the trauma of Lion’s birth.
As soon as she entered and closed the door behind her, she understood completely how this sanctuary had assisted in Joy’s healing.
Even though it had a gabled glass roof and two walls of nothing but windows, the place possessed a privacy to it because of its location on the far side of the house, away from the gardens and festivities.