Chapter 14
Fourteen
Felix stared at London out of the carriage window as they rode through town to their brick townhouse. It would be the first of his family’s possessions that he would have to sell if he was unable to marry Miss Alden off to the highest bidder.
His plan for Milton to win her over was rapidly failing and there wasn’t a chance that Stanford would be willing to marry her either. While they both enjoyed her lively spirit, it was clear that neither of the men wanted to tolerate it for the rest of their God-given lives.
Evangeline groaned and stretched her legs out in front of her. “Why do I have to travel with you and Mama and Hyacinth? I should be with Victoria and Miss Isabelle.”
“You are right where you belong.” Edith folded her hands in her lap and looked at her daughter. “The other young ladies are older. It would be good for them to have some moments alone to discuss the suitors they are going to meet now that we have arrived in London.”
Hyacinth scoffed. “I do not think I should ever marry after seeing the men who have come calling on Victoria and Miss Isabelle. They are all pompous fools with nothing of substance to them.”
Felix fought the urge to throw himself from the carriage and disown himself from his family. “You will not make a fool of this family by declaring such things in the streets, will you?”
“I might.” Hyacinth shrugged, avoiding the glare Edith sent her way. “If Miss Isabelle believes that it is better not to marry, then I think I should be studying her approach and thinking more about what kind of man I wish my future husband to be.”
He pressed his fingers to his temples as the familiar pounding restarted. “You should be glad if any man wishes marry you in the future, for you have become quite troublesome in your advancing age.”
Hyacinth gasped and ripped the pillow from behind her back, throwing it at Felix. He dodged the impact, holding back a snicker as the cushion hit Evangeline. She scowled and picked up the projectile, intending to throw it back but Edith snatched it.
“The three of you are acting like children!” She tucked the pillow between her body and the side of the carriage. “You will behave while we are in London. I will not have my children becoming the talk of the ton and putting our family to shame.”
Felix exhaled with relief as the carriage rolled to a stop and the townhouse came into view. Perfectly groomed vines climbed up its sides and framed the windows. The white gate was thrown open and the carriages rolled through as the servants lined up outside and waited to greet them.
His carriage was the first that came to a stop. The door opened and he stood, stepping out and nodding to the people he employed. They collectively dropped their heads in respect before their gazes turned to the second carriage.
Felix was certain that word had now carried to London about his charge.
He knew the ton would be clamoring to get a look at her to see if the rumors were true and find more information they could spread.
He was sure that there would be at least one real or imagined scandal coursing through the ton by sundown.
The second carriage opened and the footman helped Victoria out before Miss Alden appeared.
Her buttery yellow skirts swished around her as she took the steps slowly.
There was an easy smile on her face and her eyes shone bright as she took in the flowers on either side of the path that led the way to the house.
She turned and whispered something to Victoria behind her hand and the two women laughed.
“I heard that Americans are obnoxious,” one of the staff members whispered beside him.
Felix turned and stepped closer to the butler. “Excuse me? Would you mind repeating yourself?”
The butler lowered his head, his cheeks coloring a deep shade of red. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I was only—”
“You were only insulting a woman who is a guest of this family. You were making your opinion known and I suspect you have based it on the words of gossips. If I hear another word from you regarding Miss Alden I shall terminate your employment.”
Without another word, Felix spun around and stalked toward the townhouse. If this was the way his time in London was to pass, then he was going to need a drink and perhaps a long ride.
There were very few places he could go without young women and their mothers tracking him down.
With each season that passed he had made it abundantly clear that he was not looking for marriage, but it only seemed to make the women more determined.
He had heard more than one whispering at the ton’s balls about how one of the women would finally be the one to win him over.
I am hardly a prize to be won with a failing duchy and three sisters who are becoming wilder every day.
Felix entered the house and headed straight for his study. The others would get settled on their own, but he had to pour over the books again; perhaps find some money that was yet to be extracted.
Well past midnight there came a knock upon his door. It eased open and Miss Alden appeared like a ghost, her dress white and her hair hanging loose around her waist. Even as she moved silently over to the bookshelf and avoided uttering a word to him, he was stunned by her beauty.
She hadn’t spoken to him in the two days since their night at the cottage. Just as it seemed like they were finally beginning to get along, it was suddenly as if all their progress had been destroyed. He didn’t know what he had done to turn her to ice.
“Miss Alden, it is late.” He stood from his desk and strode over to the fire glowing in the hearth. “You should be in bed. From what I hear, there is a long day of shopping planned for the morning.”
“A trip to the modiste is exactly what I am dreading,” she said as she looked at the leather-bound books lining the shelves. “I cannot bring myself to sleep. Not even a cup of warm milk has helped settle my nerves.”
“And so you came to speak with me?”
She laughed. “No. I came to look for a book to read. I thought I could perhaps put myself to sleep if I found the most boring book here.”
Felix bit back a smile and joined her by the shelves, careful to keep a proper distance between them. “There is a rather boring tome on the works of Shakespeare.”
“You do not like Shakespeare?” Isabelle turned to look at him, the corner of her mouth curving. “I suppose I should have guessed that. You hardly strike me as a romantic.”
“Pray tell me what part of Romeo and Juliet is romantic?”
“Eternal love at its core, although I have to admit that it is far from my favorite piece of work.”
Felix clasped his hands behind his back as she inspected his Shakespeare selection. “I would think it to be one of your favorites.”
“I may be a dreamer at times but love like that is impractical. People are rarely willing to overlook all the reasons they should not be together while holding onto the one reason why their relationship works.”
He studied her profile for a moment, trying to commit the slender slope of her neck to memory. “That is rather cynical.”
“Surely you must know that my fiancé was showing interest in another woman and that is why the marriage was called off. It was a scandal. Imagine, a wealthy daughter of a baron in New York with a fortune in inheritance, and he thought it would be better to flirt with a woman who was of no consequence.”
“Is that what you think?”
Isabelle pressed her lips together and turned slightly to face him. “I think she was a woman trying to do the best that she could with her life. She worked hard. I liked her, otherwise she would not have been my maid. She betrayed me.”
“I did not know it was your maid.”
“And that is why I do not believe in an eternal love that will flourish despite all its barriers.” She set the candle on a little table beside the shelves.
She leaned back against the bookcase and crossed her arms, intelligent eyes turning to him.
“Tell me Windham, do you think you could find another to love and marry after such a betrayal?”
He didn’t hear her question at first, too enamored with the way her mouth moved when she said his name. Felix shoved the thought away, knowing it was inappropriate. At the end of the day she was still an imp.
“You loved him then? So much so that he has ruined you for another?”
Miss Alden shrugged. “I thought I did at the time. We were young. Now that I am older, I know it was nothing more than a childish infatuation that was taken too far for simple affection and admiration.”
“Then you have yet to find a man you love?”
Her cheeks tinted a pale pink once more. “There has been no one I love and there will be no one.”
Though he was loathe to admit it, he hated the way she spoke of her ex-fiancé. There wasn’t an ounce of the warm affection in her voice that was evident when she spoke to his sisters, but there was the knowledge that she had been infatuated with a man enough to accept his proposal.
Would it happen again with another suitor? Would she decide that infatuation was simply enough?
Felix cleared his throat and gestured to the armchairs in front of the fire, eager to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory while they were getting along. “Sit with me and tell me more of your thoughts on Shakespeare.”
She looked torn between fleeing the room and sitting with him. “If you don’t like his works, why do you wish to talk about them?”
It is not Shakespeare I wish to talk about. I simply desire to speak with you again.
He stretched his legs out in front of the fire and crossed his arms. “I would like to see if you can change my opinion.”
A challenging look crossed her face. “If you wish to talk about Shakespeare’s works and the romance within them, then I suspect you might be ill.”
“And yet I would still ask you to tell me your thoughts.”
Isabelle pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before nodding and taking the seat beside him. She crossed her legs beneath her, skirts spreading wide. “Twelfth Night is my favorite play.”
“Why?”
“Because at its center, it is the story of a woman who lost the only person she loved—her brother—and was searching for a way to survive. She helps the man she loves court another woman because she cannot reveal herself to be in disguise. There are fights and love triangles, and things that happen that make their love difficult.”
“You believe that dressing as a man and helping court a woman who does not love their master is the epitome of a good Shakespeare play?”
Out of all the works he expected her to say, he didn’t think her interest would lie in something so unexpected. He thought she would enjoy Macbeth or perhaps As You Like It.
“You wish for a great love then,” Felix said when her gaze connected with his. “You like the drama.”
“I like that there was a struggle. I do not believe that love is easy.” She pulled her hair over one shoulder. “Do I wish to be in love? No. Nor infatuation that can be mistaken as love. Giving another the power to hold your heart in their hands and crush it is a unique kind of cruelty.”
“And yet you said that you may be willing to marry if you were to find the right man.” He leaned closer to her, though he was unaware of his body moving.
Felix didn’t like the thought of her marrying for less than love, although he knew it was oftentimes an unavoidable truth.
If he was to dig deeper within his own mind he might admit that a small part of him wished that she had yet to experience those emotions which are so often mistaken for love.
If given the power he would erase her ex-fiancé from existence. Or perhaps he would find her a man who would teach her what it meant to be completely in love, though Felix didn’t understand it himself.
I cannot be the one to attempt to teach the imp what true love is.
“I didn’t say that I would love him.”
“Then what is the point of marriage?” Felix challenged her.
In that moment he wanted nothing more than to open her up and understand how her mind worked. He wanted to know what she thought about various things and how similar or different her opinions were from his own.
Isabelle shrugged as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “It is like anything else. To make a connection that benefits both parties.”
“And you do not wish for a connection that would benefit you?”
“I want my freedom. I want to be able to draw when I want. To spend rainy days reading by the fire and not feeling like I must be producing children to maintain my worth to my husband.”
“I suppose that is a fair enough reason to avoid marriage.” He swallowed hard, wishing that he could take the pain away from her and wear it as his own.
What is one more painful experience in the name of protecting this imp?
Her admissions did not make his job any easier. Now that he understood why she avoided marriage, he would find it harder to push her into it. Still, his people were relying on the contract with her father and all it entailed.
For that reason alone he would continue to push, even if it led to the ruination of the tentative friendship they were forming along the way.