Chapter Eleven
“You, William, are a milksop.” Leonard’s declaration, dropped as it was without warning during their carriage ride to Banbury House while William was making a difficult admission of discomfort at the prospect of seeing Felicity again, prompted a momentary silence between them.
“What has inspired this observation?” William asked at long last.
“Ten minutes of you bemoaning your uncertain situation with Miss Felicity.” Leonard eyed him with humor-tinged annoyance. “The lady allowed you to embrace her, embraced you in return, and expressed a longing for your company. Those aren’t exactly reasons for discouragement.”
The man wasn’t entirely wrong, and yet some uncertainty was warranted. “I hadn’t intended to lay bare so much of what I feel, and I still didn’t admit to all. She said she missed me and was grateful I’m back, but she didn’t say she loved me, or was beginning to, or—”
“In the words of the Bard, ‘Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear.’ You love her, and I am very nearly convinced she returns your regard. Don’t let doubts convince you that you’ve reason to be afraid of pursuing that love.”
William let his shoulders slump. “When did you grow so wise?”
Leonard shrugged. “It is easy to be wise when advising someone in a crisis that the advice-giver need not pass through.”
“In other words, someday, when you are rendered a mass of spineless jelly by love, I can lord it over you as you are doing now to me.”
Leonard laughed. “I give you full permission to do so, though I will likely not thank you at the time.”
The carriage stopped at the top of the drive at Banbury House.
It was the night of the musical evening Mr. and Mrs. Banbury had quickly arranged.
Owing to Angelina’s continued poor health, the evening was to be an abbreviated one.
William hoped it was successful, for the entire family’s sake, and relatively private, for his own.
Though he was nervous at the prospect, he was in need of time with Felicity in which to determine where things stood between them and how best to proceed.
Mr. and Mrs. Banbury greeted their guests in the generous entry hall. Leonard and William took their place in the short but slow-moving line, awaiting their turn. The longer they stood there, the more nervous William grew. Perhaps Leonard was correct; he truly was a milksop.
By the time they reached the head of the reception line, he felt entirely tongue-tied.
He stumbled through his expression of gratitude at the invitation, offered an awkward bow, and only just managed to prevent himself from blurting out his desire to see and speak with Felicity.
Knowing the Banburys were particularly concerned with exactness of propriety, he wished to be careful in that regard.
He and Leonard slipped into the formal drawing room where the musical evening was to be held.
Familiar faces filled the space—a few years older than he remembered, yet still well-known.
He was greeted with very real pleasure, most expressing great delight at his return to Lindsworth.
William found himself able to return the sentiment sincerely.
At long last, he made his way far enough through the gathering to spot Felicity sitting beside her sister on a sofa nearest the pianoforte.
Angelina appeared to be in good spirits.
Her coloring, while not ideal, was not so worrisome as it had been the last time he’d seen her in Town.
Being in the country was proving beneficial for her, and he was glad of it.
His gaze did not remain long on her, though.
Felicity pulled his attention, as had happened with increasing fervency each time he was near her.
She was watching her sister, both enjoyment and concern touching her features.
While he did not wish to distract her from her purpose, he did hope she would look at him, even if only a glance.
He hadn’t the first idea how she looked back on their unexpectedly intimate moment walking in the gardens of Banbury House.
Her eyes, no doubt, would tell him a great deal.
Felicity possessed the most expressive pair of eyes he’d ever encountered.
A couple approached the Banbury sisters, offering their greetings. Then an area family. And another. William was undeterred. He remained nearby, watching his sweet Felicity easily converse with whoever approached, all while maintaining a noticeable awareness of her sister.
How did I not realize before what a gem she is?
In his defense, she was only thirteen when he’d last been in Lindsworth, and he’d been mired in grief.
“I’ve never seen you so patient,” Leonard whispered to him, more than a hint of amusement in his words.
“Some moments are worth waiting for.”
“As are some people?”
William didn’t look at Leonard; he didn’t have to see his friend’s face to know the man would be silently laughing at him.
“I will find us a place to sit,” Leonard said. “You can wait here and pine.”
He didn’t bother correcting the description, though he didn’t feel he was “pining.” He preferred “patiently hoping.”
His patience, however, did not pay the dividends he’d have liked.
Before he had even a moment of Felicity’s time, the evening was called to order.
Everyone moved to his or her chosen spot.
The younger gentlemen, himself included, were required to stand along the edges of the room, allowing the ladies and the older gentlemen to occupy the sofas and chairs gathered around the pianoforte.
From his position, William was able to see Felicity.
Perhaps, if he were fortunate, he would manage to catch her eye at some point.
He was not near enough to see the tiny nuances that might be there, but at least he ought to be able to differentiate between horror or pleasure at the sight of him.
He likely could even identify indifference, should that be the emotion written on her face.
The music began. All eyes were on the musician. William tried not to be too obvious in his differently directed focus. He didn’t wish to embarrass her, but neither did he want to pass the entire night without even a momentary connection.
Watching her as she listened to one musical offering after another proved a treat.
Her mouth settled into a captivating whisper of a smile.
Her eyes unfocused, all her attention on the notes floating about the room.
He found himself less frustrated at the distance between them.
A gentleman would count himself fortunate to spend his years finding ways to bring that look of contentment to her face.
Just as he was allowing himself to imagine that very future as his own, she turned her head, and their eyes met. For the first time in his life, he fully understood what the poets meant when they spoke of having one’s breath stolen by a glance.
A hint of color stole across her cheeks. Her smile didn’t fade. That seemed to him an encouraging sign. As he’d assumed, he couldn’t see her eyes in enough detail to ascertain anything further.
If he managed nothing else that evening, he would make certain she knew how he felt at seeing her again. He offered a soft and tender smile and the smallest upward twitch of his brow. She responded with a tiny increase in her own happy expression.
He would accept that as encouragement.
It was the extent of their interaction that evening. As soon as the last performer completed her piece, Felicity rose, her arm around Angelina, and the two slipped quickly from the room, leaving their parents to make the necessary farewells and expressions of regret.
The carriage ride back to Carlisle Manor was quieter than the one they’d made to Banbury House. Leonard allowed him silence in which to contemplate his situation.
He was no wiser tonight than he’d been the previous evening, but he was more determined.
His mind had filled with the vision of a future he could not easily let go of, one he found himself eager to pursue.
If Felicity shared any of his feelings, if she would consider having him in her life, he would do all in his power to prove himself worthy of any bit of her regard.
***
“Was it a mistake to plan such a tiring evening?” Felicity worried not only about her sister’s recovery from that night’s festivities but also about her ability to attend the Almack’s-inspired ball at Carlisle Manor.
The family had decided to keep the ball a secret—both because Angelina would enjoy the surprise and to save her from disappointment should her health decline too quickly for her to attend.
“The evening was heavenly,” Angelina assured her.
She sat in her bed, propped up by an abundance of pillows.
Her coloring was poor, but her smile was genuine.
“Though I knew with perfect clarity we were at our home in the country, I could easily imagine we were in a London drawing room. I can, with confidence, mark as completed ‘attend a musical evening’ on my list of wishes for the Season.”
Relief wrapped itself around Felicity’s heart. They had not been mistaken in their efforts. “I thought all who performed this evening made a good showing. Such lovely music.”
“Yes, and the music added such ambience to the true performance of the evening.” Mischief hung in Angelina’s words. It filled her eyes as well.
“Which was?” Felicity could not begin to imagine her sister’s meaning. The musical offerings were the evening’s true performance.
“I daresay you did not see what was plainly before us, no doubt because your eyes were closed— in more ways than one.”
Felicity, who had been occupying a chair beside her sister’s bed, moved to sit on the thick blanket, facing Angelina directly. “I suspect I am being accused of being thick, but I cannot begin to imagine what I have done to earn such a denunciation.”
Though the amusement remained, Angelina’s expression turned sympathetic. “I suppose all people are a bit bacon-brained in these matters.”
“What matters?”
Angelina patted the bed beside her. Felicity scooted across, placing herself directly beside her. They had often sat thus as children, reading stories or imagining adventures. There was comfort in doing so again.
“Are you aware, dearest Felicity, that William is in love with you?”
Felicity would have been equally as surprised had her sister announced that the queen herself had requested to be hired on as their chambermaid.
Angelina laughed lightly, though not unkindly. “Do not be so shocked. You are worthy of the highest regard, and he, I discovered during our time in Town, has grown into a very wise and discerning gentleman.”
“He has made no declaration of partiality,” Felicity protested even as a flip of her heart betrayed her attempt at being logical.
“I watched him tonight.” Angelina leaned more heavily against her pillows.
“He could not keep his eyes from you. When you would smile, he would smile. When you turned even slightly in his general direction, his posture would straighten and hope would enter his expression. When you spoke to me or Mother or Father, the longing on his face could not be mistaken.”
A surge of unexpected hope flooded over her. She’d known herself to have grown partial to him during their weeks in London, but she’d not allowed herself to believe anything could come of it. “He is likely fond of me— of us— because we were children together, and he was remembering those times.”
“He was not looking at you with the eyes of a child, I assure you.”
“He didn’t hold me like one either,” she whispered.
In an instant, she had her sister’s full and rapt attention. “When did he hold you?”
“A couple of days ago, when he called here.” She’d been mulling that moment over in her mind ever since, though she’d told no one of it.
Sitting there, with her closest friend and confidante, her beloved, darling sister, next to her, she heard the entire story spill from her lips, complete with her own recounting of hope and disappointment, uncertainty and intrigue, pounding heart and spinning thoughts.
“But he pulled away so suddenly and simply left. I hadn’t the first idea what to make of it. ”
“I would wager he didn’t either.” Angelina tucked her hands under the blanket. She grew cold more easily than she once had. “He likely wonders about your feelings as much as you appear to be wondering about his.”
Perhaps. “Our friendship means so much to me— to him as well, I suspect. I couldn’t bear it if I lost that by confessing to feelings that are neither reciprocated nor welcome.”
She received a look of deepest empathy from Angelina.
“Many people would tell you to lay your entire heart bare, no matter the enormity of that risk, no matter the potential for heart-shattering agony. People always expect others to do what they themselves would likely not undertake were the roles reversed.”
“Is that your way of saying I ought to tell him of my regard but also acknowledging that you understand why I might not manage to do so?”
Angelina nodded. “I believe it to be both the correct course of action and the most difficult.”
“Those two are often one and the same,” Felicity said on a sigh.
“Yes, they are.”
Felicity pulled her legs up toward herself, hugging her knees. “You have grown very wise in your old age, sister.”
“Wisdom does seem to expand as one’s time shrinks.
” Sadness Angelina didn’t often allow in her expression slipped across her face.
“Do not waste the time you have been given, Felicity. It is so very precious.” She looked at her, earnestly, almost desperately.
“You have a future laid out before you. Seize it. Not everyone is granted that gift.”