Chapter Eight
Angelina was sleeping, comfortably situated in the repurposed east sitting room.
They’d been home for three days, and all the family and staff were exhausted.
Their one consolation was that Angelina seemed to have already improved.
Her coloring was better. Her energy had increased.
London had been taking more of a toll than they’d realized.
If only Felicity could feel more at ease.
Her sister was better, but she would never be whole.
The coming weeks and months would be beyond difficult.
Enduring it all meant, in the end, she would lose her dearest companion and very best friend.
Her parents were grieving as well. She couldn’t add her burdens to theirs, yet she didn’t know how much longer she could carry this weight alone.
She put on her spencer, bonnet, and gloves and slipped from the house, needing some time away. Everything they’d done the last three days had been focused on preparing for Angelina’s deterioration. Felicity’s heart needed a respite, however temporary.
Tears threatened as she walked the familiar paths of their neighborhood.
She’d wanted so badly to give Angelina the Season she’d wished for.
She wanted to be strong and unwavering in the face of their coming struggles.
She wished she could save Angelina from what was coming. She was failing on all three counts.
Her feet took her where they had so many times these past years: to the front drive of Carlisle Manor.
How often she’d stood there, wishing William were home, willing him to step out and join her for a walk or a ride or simply talk with her.
How deeply she had needed his friendship in the years he’d been away.
She leaned her shoulder against the tall brick column that made up one side of the arch under which carriages passed on their way up the drive to Carlisle Manor.
The iron gates were closed, as they had been for five years.
Through their foreboding bars, she could see the grand house, so dark and forlorn.
“Oh, William,” she whispered. “I wish you would come home.”
He’d been such a wonderful mixture of friend and older brother when they were children.
She’d fully expected that to continue being the case while they were in London, but something had changed between them.
Her heart had grown far more tender toward him, attached in a far less brotherly way.
She could not, however, fully decide if his sentiments had changed.
If ever a lady was confused about a gentleman’s regard, she was. Yet she would happily endure that emotional upheaval if only he would return.
“I miss you.”
There was no answer, not even the quiet whisper of a breeze.
Felicity would permit herself only a moment more to wallow in self-pity.
She sighed dramatically and allowed her shoulders to slump more than was ladylike.
She did not, however, indulge in what would, no doubt, have been a very satisfying bit of foot stomping.
She was lonely and confused and worn to a thread, but she was not a child.
With one final glance at the empty house, she turned and stepped away from the gated arch.
Not two steps away, however, she stopped.
Were her ears playing tricks on her or did she detect the sound of carriage wheels?
This stretch of road led only to Carlisle Manor.
Any carriage traversing the path had to be bound for that location.
She turned back. Her mouth dropped open in shock. A carriage was, indeed, coming directly toward the gate she had only just abandoned. She pressed her hand to her suddenly pounding heart. Dare she hope?
The carriage rocked and swayed as the driver reined in the horses. They stopped close to the gate. It would, after all, have to be opened.
Felicity stood rooted to the spot, hardly breathing, hardly blinking.
The carriage door opened. A figure emerged. For a moment, she could not see who it was, her view obstructed by the large conveyance, but then he stepped around it, the sun shining on him at last. He looked at her, the light illuminating his look of soul-deep uncertainty.
Joy and excitement surged through her with such force she could not contain it. “William!” She ran to him, all thoughts of decorum gone in an instant.
Just as she had time and again when they were little, she threw her arms around his neck. He was much taller than she was. He set his arm around her waist as he stood straight once more, pulling her feet off the ground.
“And here I thought I would sneak home with no one the wiser for a time.” He smiled as he spoke, alleviating any concern that she’d offended him with her overly familiar greeting.
“Oh, William. You’re home at last.”
“Almost.” He lowered her back to her feet. His smile faded as he turned his gaze on the house. “I am beginning to suspect these last one hundred feet will be the most difficult.”
She slipped her arm around his middle, just as she’d done when they were little. “We can walk those one hundred feet together.”
“Would you?” His tone was both hopeful and pleased.
“Of course.”
He turned back to face the carriage. Felicity glanced in that direction as well. For the first time, she realized that she and William had a most attentive audience. Through the windows of the carriage, Mr. Whitehall grinned quite unabashedly at their continued close quarters.
“How likely is your friend to whisper it about the neighborhood that I acted like a regular gudgeon when I saw you? My parents are particularly sensitive about propriety and the things people say about us behind their hands.”
“Leonard is as dependable as the sunrise.”
“But is he as good at shedding light on things?” she asked with a raise of her brow.
To her delight, William smiled again. Knowing how difficult returning home was for him, seeing any degree of pleasure on his features was reassuring.
“Let us go inside, William. I think it is time.”
He pushed out a breath and took her hand in his. To Mr. Whitehall, he said, “Miss Felicity means to walk with me to the house. You are welcome to join us now or after the carriage sets you down.”
“Go on,” Mr. Whitehall said through the open carriage door. “Miss Felicity has a history with this house as well. I can think of no one better to take those first steps with you.” He pulled the door shut.
The driver had opened the large iron gate and returned to his perch atop the carriage.
William led Felicity through it, his hand still in hers.
She hoped the connection was proving a comfort to him.
The feel of his warm hand around hers set her heart fluttering.
She did her best to keep her expression light and free of the uncertainty she felt.
They moved slowly up the walk. The carriage passed through the gates but made for the stables, leaving William and Felicity alone on the path.
“How is your sister?” William asked.
“She is better now that we’ve returned home. London, I fear, was too taxing for her.”
“And you worked so hard to make certain she experienced all the things she wished to.”
Felicity set her free hand on his arm, her other hand still in his. “Perhaps I should not have. Her strength would not have been so quickly depleted.”
He met her eyes. “It is my understanding that her strength would have grown depleted regardless. Without her exploits in Town, she might have remained in London longer, but she certainly would not have been happier.”
“I think she did enjoy what she was able to do.”
They continued onward, the house drawing nearer.
“I never was able to arrange for her to go to Almack’s,” Felicity said. “I do regret that. She mentioned her hope for that experience more than any other activity of the Season.”
“I am sorry. I know I could have obtained vouchers from any of the patronesses if you’d remained in Town a bit longer.”
She squeezed his hand. “You were very good to us, William. I cannot thank you enough.”
“It was my absolute pleasure.”
They’d reached the front steps of Carlisle Manor. William stopped, eyes fixed on the tall doors as they pulled open.
“You did warn the staff, did you not?” Felicity asked.
“I did. They are expecting me.”
She slipped her hand from his. “Then perhaps it is best you go in without me. Mr. Whitehall’s silence may be depended upon, but nothing remains a secret between the servants in neighboring homes.”
A hint of panic touched his eyes. “Could you walk in with me if we do not do so hand-in-hand? They know we are friends and neighbors. If ours is a friendly interaction and nothing more, perhaps . . .” The sentence dangled in a peninsula of desperate hope.
How could she turn her back on him now? “I suppose it would not push the boundaries of propriety should I step inside briefly. I can offer my greetings to your housekeeper. Mr. Whitehall will join you shortly, so you needn’t continue your return alone.”
“Thank you.”
The staff filed out of the door, fanning out in both directions. William dipped his head to them as he passed toward the door. Felicity walked slightly behind him, careful not to give the impression of anything more between them than friends who happened to have crossed paths.
The butler bowed, and the housekeeper curtsied.
“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,” William said, emotion in his tone. “Thank you for caring for the estate while I’ve been away.”
“Our pleasure, sir,” Mr. Johnson said.
“And a very real pleasure to have you home again,” Mrs. Johnson added.
William stepped to the open door but didn’t step inside. He looked back at Felicity.
“Go on,” she said. “You’ve strength enough for this.”
He squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold.
Mrs. Johnson turned briefly to Felicity.
Her expression rang with gratitude. They understood the strength of the emotion that had kept William away.
Felicity felt better about his situation in that moment.
These two dear people would look after him and cherish him.
He had Mr. Whitehall as well. William would soon feel at home again here.
As the staff followed their master inside, Felicity turned her steps back toward the iron gate and brick arch. She moved away from his home and toward her own. For so many years, she’d longed for her dear friend to return home. Now that he had, her emotions were decidedly mixed.
He needed to be home again for his own sake, and she was happy for him.
The demands on the time of the master of so grand an estate, however, meant she would likely have less of his company than she’d had in London, and she was a little sorry for herself on that score.
The moment of self-pity would only be permitted to last as long as it took for her to reach home. Angelina needed her, and she would not leave her sister without support.
Life asked a lot at times. She had to find the strength to answer.