Chapter Ten #3
“This is exactly what I needed.” Felicity headed to the corner farthest from the door and windows and flounced down onto the settee covered in an abundance of pillows upholstered in vibrant floral prints.
She hugged one of them like a child clutching her teddy.
Calm enough that she no longer felt like crying, she tried her best to see things from Drake’s perspective.
Granted, she had expected him to be rather upset and maybe a little jealous, but he had all but stood there and accused her of lying about being a wallflower.
She huffed and squeezed the pillow harder. “I mean, really.” He had made it quite clear that at that moment in time, there would be no reasoning with him. “Now, how am I supposed to sort things through with him?”
*
Lady Joy stormed toward him, flanked by Lady Serendipity and the Abarough sister who had appeared engaged in quite a robust conversation with that damnable Lord Tinslow.
Drake braced himself. This could not possibly bode well.
The women were probably coming to cast him out and order him never to allow his shadow to cross anything remotely related to a member of the Broadmere empire ever again.
He nervously raked a hand through his hair, wishing he had not allowed his bloody temper and jealousy to overcome him.
He should not have spoken to his precious Felicity the way that he had.
“Are you that great of a fool?” Joy demanded as she and her sisters surrounded him. “What the devil did you say to my sister?”
He bowed his head, unable to look any of them in the eyes.
“In answer to your first question: yes, I am that great of a fool.” A heavy sigh escaped him, and he kept his gaze locked on the tips of his boots that were in dire need of polishing.
“I made it clear that I did not believe her to be a wallflower as she had claimed, and that Lord Tinslow would propose to her if she bloody well allowed it.” Rage pounded through him all over again at the image of his Felicity walking arm in arm with a viscount who was known to possess the wit of a sack of rocks.
“You called our sister a liar?” Serendipity stepped forward, looking ready to strike him. “How dare you!”
“Let me set my dogs on him,” said the sister he had never met. “I brought only three, but I am sure they are up to the task.”
“I should beat you with my cane.” Joy squeezed her bejeweled weapon of choice, then stamped the ground with it. “You and I have only just met, but know this—my sister does not lie.”
“Why do you think you met her in Lady Atterley’s kitchen?” Serendipity asked. “She hides away after growing tired of watching everyone else’s joy at every ball and party. You know better. You know Felli never lies.”
He nodded. “I know.” He shrugged and forced himself to meet their anger like a man.
“I was enraged when I saw her on Tinslow’s arm.
My jealousy took control, shoving what little sense I ever possessed out of my head.
” He risked glancing across the grounds at the viscount in question.
“He is a better match for her than I ever could be. After the past fortnight of being rebuffed, I felt sure I had lost her, and she was sending me on my way.”
“She was coming to sort things out with you, you thick-skulled fool.” The unknown sister nudged Serendipity. “Let me set the dogs on him. Please.”
“Grace, no.” Serendipity barely shook her head, studying him as though he were a bug she was about to crush. “What are your intentions now, Lord Wakefield?”
“Leave and never trouble her with my presence ever again.”
Grace snorted, and Joy rolled her eyes.
“The two of you have had the most difficult times, and yet it is all of your own doing,” Serendipity said.
“Neither of you has learned to trust and speak openly with the other. Your squabbles always stem from misunderstandings, gossip, and things that should have been shared, yet were left unsaid. Have you learned nothing?”
Felicity’s sisters had no idea about his greatest lie of all, the lie that was about to end him. “You are quite correct, Lady Serendipity.”
“Then how do you expect to be married and not only coexist but ever find any semblance of happiness?” Joy slowly shook her head. “Felicity is smitten with you, but at this rate, you will lose her forever.”
More defeated than he had ever felt before, he hung his head. “As I said, I shall take my leave and trouble her no more.” Felicity would be better off without him, especially with the latest development in the Rum and Catherty debacle.
Grace threw up her hands. “So, you are simply giving up, then? Just like that? You do not intend to make things right? Fight for her?” She jabbed a finger at him, pointing. “You do not deserve our sister.”
Joy turned and nodded at the house behind them.
“Go in there and find her. Talk to her. Listen with your heart, you fool. Not your head.” Then she lifted her cane and shook it at him.
“If you hurt our Felicity any more than you already have, you will not only have us to deal with, but the other three as well. Am I clear, Lord Wakefield?”
“Yes, Lady Joy. Quite clear.” Yet he stood there, uncertain where to begin in his search for Felicity and a bit uneasy about being told to search the hostess’s home.
With an almost feral growl, Joy took his arm and tugged him to fall in step alongside her. “Come. I will help you search.”
“We are coming too,” Serendipity said.
“I shall catch up with you after I fetch the dogs,” Grace grumbled. “They might yet be needed.”
Drake trudged along between the two women, feeling like a cowardly fool who had shirked the opportunity to be a better man.
But if they knew the latest risks that had befallen him, the sisters would surely understand.
They would also forbid him from going anywhere near their sister.
He could not tell them. He couldn’t even tell Felicity.
If he weren’t such a selfish bastard, he would leave now to save his dearest from even more heartache.
But he couldn’t. Damned if he didn’t love her and need her more than anything else in the world.
He couldn’t imagine a life without her, even though he’d told the sisters he would leave and never darken Felicity’s door ever again.
He’d known it was a lie when he said it.
“Shall we go to the kitchens?” he asked. “She told me once the kitchens were her safe space.”
Joy paused in front of a pair of footmen blocking the entrance to a hall off to the right. “Did Lady Felicity come past here?”
The ruddy-haired lad with the freckles nodded. “Yes, my lady, but we nay let her pass.”
“She weren’t none too pleased with us either,” the other footman added.
“I am sure she was not.” Joy tapped the floor with her cane. “Well done, gentlemen. Did you happen to see where she went after that?”
“Down the hall to the left of the stairs, my lady,” said the one with the freckles. “Mumbling to herself the whole time.”
“Either the library or the conservatory,” Serendipity said. “Which shall we try first?”
“The conservatory, I’d wager.” Joy led the way, determined to tug Drake along by the arm. He didn’t fight her. The woman’s cane looked capable of leaving quite a knot wherever it struck.
She halted again outside a closed door at the end of the long hallway.
“This is your last opportunity.” She thumped his chest with the bejeweled knob of her cane.
“Do not waste it.” As he opened the door and went to step inside, she caught him by the sleeve.
“And you will not compromise my sister. Serendipity and I shall be right here, guarding the door as well as eavesdropping.”
Serendipity shoved him onward. “Honesty is best. Remember that!” She closed the door behind him with a soft but final click.
Tense, he stood just inside the doorway, taking in the room’s splendor. The main part was open and full of light streaming in through the glass, while the back corners, with walls of reddish-brown mahogany and rosewood paneling, were filled with enough shadows to hide one from prying eyes.
“Felicity?”
“Has your temperament improved?” asked a quiet voice from behind an arrangement of potted palms and ferns.
“Yes. I have come to apologize.” He remained rooted to the spot, waiting for permission to approach her. “Forgive me for implying you had lied about being a wallflower.” He flexed his hands, nervously opening and closing his fists. “I know you are incapable of such.”
Hugging a pillow, she rose from the settee and started toward him, then paused and tossed the pillow back to it. “I am capable of lying,” she said as she faced him, her chin set to a defiant tilt. “I simply do not do it.”
“I was angry.” He didn’t know how to explain the explosive rage he had felt.
So many things had gone wrong for him, been ripped away and lost forever.
When he had seen her with that viscount, he feared her slipping away, too.
“When I saw you on Tinslow’s arm…” He still did not possess the strength to finish that sentence in a gentlemanly fashion.
“He caught me by surprise as soon as I came down from my room,” she said, coming within an arm’s length of him, but then warily stopping. “I was merely being polite.”
“You deserve better than him.” He swallowed hard. “You deserve better than me.”
She stared at him for a long moment, the shadows in her eyes gathering like storm clouds. “I deserve a man who will cherish my heart.”
“And is he that man?”
Her frustrated expression turned to one of disbelief. “Are all men’s heads so thick?” She took a step closer and poked him in the chest. “My heart has chosen you. Or were your words about caring for me and not my dowry a lie?”
“I love you,” he said, then added a pained growl to the confession. “Gads alive, I love you, Felicity. Is there any possible way you might love me, too? Someday? Can we ever get past our misunderstandings?”
She wet her lips, making him hungry for a taste of them. “Perhaps.”
“What would it take to change perhaps to a yes?”
“I fear it might already be a yes.”
He closed the distance between them and took hold of her hands, his heart and soul rejoicing at her touch. “Mightn’t it truly be a yes?”
“Yes,” she said, her whisper soft and sultry.
“May I kiss you, my lady?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, almost making him groan. “I have never been kissed before, my lord.”
“Good.” He pulled her into his arms and covered her luscious mouth with his. Gads alive, never had he tasted such sweetness. He tightened his embrace, silently swearing never to let her go again.
She pressed closer, the perfect warmth of her softness in his arms, making him groan.
Before the kiss grew even more heated, he broke the connection and pressed his forehead to hers. “You are exquisiteness itself, my lady,” he whispered, struggling for control.
With an innocent hesitancy, she reached up and touched his cheek.
“You are quite fine yourself.” Her cheeks flushed a delightful red, and her eyes brightened.
She searched his face, frowning ever so slightly.
“But we must do better with one another. We must stop assuming things and listening to what everyone else says.”
He almost choked on the gentle scolding. If she only knew, but he daren’t tell her. Not yet. Not when the battered bridge between them had just risen from the ashes. Soon. Soon, he would find the courage to tell her. Somehow. Someway.