Chapter Nine
“You have an impressive pile of stones here, William.” Leonard sat on his horse, looking out over the expanse of the estate from their vantage point atop a low hill in the east meadow. They’d ridden out that morning—William’s first after arriving in Sussex the afternoon before.
“I’d only ever thought of it as home,” he admitted. “I hadn’t expected to inherit it for decades yet. I suppose that kept me from seeing it as anything other than the place where my childhood memories reside.”
“And where your childhood friends reside,” Leonard added. “The neighborhood, at least.”
“It was fortuitous that Felicity was at the gate when we arrived yesterday.”
Leonard eyed him sidelong. “There is a difference between ‘fortuitous’ and ‘a sign from heaven itself.’ Don’t confuse the two.”
“You think Felicity’s arrival yesterday was an act of divine intervention?” The laughter with which he asked the question slipped a little at the seriousness of Leonard’s expression. “You’re in earnest.”
“The moment you spotted her, you changed. The worry that had been crushing you eased. No one has ever done that for you except Miss Felicity.” Leonard set his mount to a walk.
William caught up to him. “She’s my friend.”
“So it would seem.”
William knew that dry tone well. Leonard reverted to it when he thought William was being particularly dense.
“I will confess, seeing her at Carlisle Manor was as near to a miracle as I’ve ever experienced.
She is one of the happiest memories I have of this place.
Having her with me gave me something less heavy to think about. ”
“Her mind was most certainly heavy, though,” Leonard said. “Her sister’s health is not likely much improved.”
“She spoke of Angelina, actually.” He thought back on that conversation as they rode slowly toward the stables.
“Their time in London was meant to have been a substitute Season for the elder Miss Banbury, but they weren’t able to fulfill all six of her wishes for the Season.
Though Angelina likely feels some regret over that, I think it weighs more pointedly on Felicity.
Finishing that list matters a great deal to her. ”
“What remains on it?”
He took a minute to think back on what she’d told him in Town. “‘Attend a musical evening’ and ‘attend Almack’s.’ We managed all the rest.”
“A shame.” Leonard had a good heart. His disappointment on the Banbury sisters’ behalf was genuine.
“Her family could likely arrange for a musical evening in their home.” William had given that some thought the night before. He hadn’t been able to sleep. “It could be a small affair—only a handful of people and a very short list of performances.”
Leonard nodded. “And Almack’s?”
William pushed out a deep breath. “That one cannot be fulfilled. Angelina isn’t strong enough to return to Town.”
“And Almack’s isn’t mobile enough to come to Sussex.”
They dismounted, handing the reins to a waiting stable hand. William didn’t generally neglect to offer some greeting to the staff, but his mind was suddenly spinning so quickly that he couldn’t manage much beyond a nod and a vague word of thanks.
Almack’s can’t come to Sussex. But what if . . .
He looked at his friend as they made their way back to the house. “How much do you remember about Almack’s?”
“Judgmental patronesses. Barely edible food. Not nearly as much of a crush as it used to be.”
William waved that off. “I mean, how much do you remember about the place itself? Colors and such?”
“I can’t say I took a great deal of note of the decor,” Leonard said. “Are you thinking of redecorating the old place?” He motioned to the manor house with a quick twitch of his head.
“Temporarily.” He stopped their forward progress, a plan forming quickly and haphazardly in his mind.
“If we can recall enough details of Almack’s, we could recreate it here in the ballroom.
We could invite a few local people, not so many that it would be overwhelming, but a few.
And Angelina could come and have her night at Almack’s.
” Would it work? It had to. What else could be done for her?
“The evening would not be quite the same as actually spending an evening at Almack’s, but surely it would be enough to offer her a bit of joy. ”
“And her sister a bit of relief.”
Were he entirely honest, William would have to admit Felicity’s feelings held the greatest sway for him.
The worry and disappointment in her eyes the afternoon before had nearly erased his own concerns upon returning home.
She bore too great a burden for one person.
If he could relieve any part of that, he would. Gladly.
“Who do we know that is still in London and is in possession of vouchers?” he asked.
Leonard’s gaze narrowed on him. “You mean to send spies into Almack’s?”
William kept his chin at a self-assured angle. “Without hesitation.”
Leonard held his hand out, clearly meaning to exchange a handshake. William obliged but made no effort to hide his confusion.
“It is a fine thing seeing you again, William Carlisle. It’s been a long five years.”
***
William sat at the small writing desk in his bedchamber, the room he had called his own from the time he’d outgrown the nursery.
He was now master of the house and likely should have taken possession of his father’s room.
Doing so felt far too final, an inarguable acknowledgment that the man he’d idolized and loved and assumed would be present for so much more of his life was truly gone.
It was hardly rational, but he couldn’t step through that threshold and extinguish that reality-defying flame of hope.
His childhood bedchamber wasn’t a significantly easier place to be. He’d enjoyed many a tender conversation with his mother within these walls. He could so easily picture her sitting on the window seat, motioning for him to join her there.
“You remember Felicity Banbury,” he said to his absent mother. There was some comfort in speaking to her, though he knew she could not hear nor respond. “She is likely to lose her sister before year’s end. I’m worried about her. I care about her.”
He swore he could see her scolding and disbelieving expression.
“I am falling in love with her,” he admitted. “I don’t know that she thinks of me in terms other than friendship, but it is a close friendship. She has trusted me to help Angelina and has told me of her worries. She is the reason I have returned home.”
He paced to the window seat where he had sat so many times before. Its emptiness prevented him from doing so now, though he did continue his one-sided conversation.
“Ought I to tell her that? Would I be ill-advised to admit what is in my heart when I know with such clarity how much is weighing on hers? I do not want to add to her burdens.”
What he wouldn’t have given to have heard his mother’s voice in that moment, to have received her encouragement and advice.
“I intend to host a recreation of an evening at Almack’s.
Felicity wanted to take Angelina to the actual Almack’s, but her sister’s health failed before she was able.
” He pushed out a breath. “I have never hosted anything beyond an informal gathering of former schoolmates. To take on something this significant so soon after arriving home for the first time in a half decade . . .” He rubbed his hand over his forehead.
“I don’t want to make a mull of the whole thing, not when it means so much to her— to both of them. ”
He paced away, lowering himself into his desk chair once more, though he sat facing the window.
“You would have made it perfect; you always did.” William blinked a few times, bringing himself under control once more.
“Perhaps I might ask Felicity to help with the planning. That would likely ease some of her regrets over the sudden end to her London efforts. She would also do a fine job of it.” A fleeting smile tugged at his mouth.
“And I would have an excuse to spend time with her. I would like that bit.”
He sat for long minutes, debating. Were he to involve Felicity, she would have an unobscured view of him being utterly inept, something he’d rather avoid. However, the evening would be far less likely to prove a failure if she helped in the execution of it.
In the end, what convinced him was the inarguable fact that having her in his house would make it feel like a home again. He needed that, and he felt certain she would not begrudge him that longing.
He would make his Almack’s proposal to her the next day when he called at Banbury House and then pray with all his might that he didn’t come to regret that decision.