Chapter Twenty-One
Felicity woke to an empty room. She didn’t expect Tristan to be there, but she hoped maybe he was somewhere in the house. Matilda arrived to bring her fresh water and ask if she wanted a breakfast tray brought to her room.
“I’ll go downstairs,” Felicity replied. “I’m feeling recovered.”
“Wonderful. Lord Alston, Lady Amelia, and Mr. Blakewood are already seated.”
She didn’t mention Tristan. Felicity hurried to dress and entered the dining room.
“A pleasure to see you again, Miss Brandon,” Lord Alston said.
“Thank you for your assistance.” Felicity strove to not be awkward now that she was a guest in the house of the man she’d refused to marry, especially since she knew the feeling was mutual. If he felt it was strange, he didn’t let on.
“No need to thank me. My sister is your champion on this front.”
“Now, now. I’m returning a simple favor,” Lady Amelia said.
Mr. Blakewood snorted. “Simple?”
“Given any number of things Mrs. Dove-Lyon could have asked of us, chaperoning Miss Brandon is a treat. Come and sit by me,” she said to Felicity.
A footman pulled out a chair for her and Felicity sat.
“I hope I’m not an inconvenience,” Felicity said.
“Not at all,” Lord Alston replied. “We love company.”
“What are your plans for the day?” Lady Amelia asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I am supposed to leave the house.”
“Nonsense. There are many places we can go where your father and that blackguard won’t find us. We can visit the museum and go to an early show at the theater, if you prefer? We have a private box.”
“I have a private box,” Lord Alston said. “You’re no longer a Clark, sister.”
Lady Amelia shook her head at him. “You’re teasing.”
He raised a brow. “You’ll have to make a request if you wish to use it. And ask me nicely.”
Lady Amelia looked to her husband. “Can you believe this jackanapes?”
Mr. Blakewood chuckled. “I’m not getting involved.”
Lady Amelia scoffed and folded her arms. “May I use the box tonight with Miss Brandon, oh generous brother?”
“Of course,” Lord Alston said smugly.
“Will you be joining us?”
“I will.”
“What of Miss Blakewood?” Felicity asked, curious about her whereabouts.
Mr. Blakewood cleared his throat. “She’s otherwise engaged with my parents.”
“You mean held hostage,” Lord Alston said.
“They’re keeping you apart?” Felicity asked.
“No,” Lady Amelia said. “They’re planning the wedding. Miss Blakewood is occupied with shopping, choosing colors, visiting elderly aunts, etcetera.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely.”
Lady Amelia sighed despondently. “It does.”
“You could have had that, had you any patience,” Lord Alston said.
Lady Amelia threw him a glare. “I could have, if you hadn’t toppled off a horse and almost died.”
“Must we do this again?” Mr. Blakewood muttered. “They do this a lot,” he said to Felicity.
Felicity smiled. “I have two younger sisters. They fight like wet cats.”
“What are their names?” Lady Amelia asked.
“Georgiana and Belinda.” Her throat thickened. She didn’t say she hoped to see them soon. It felt like a jinx at this point. “I hope they’re not giving my mother too much trouble.”
“If we hurry, we can stop by the Blakewood residence and see what they are up to this morning. No men allowed.”
Lord Alston cleared his throat. “I have a gift for her you could deliver.”
Felicity smiled at him. “That’s sweet.”
Lord Alston blushed. “You know, I never properly thanked you.”
“For what?”
“For freeing me from the contract. If you hadn’t refused, Mrs. Dove-Lyon wouldn’t have relented. Miss Blakewood and I owe you. I hope you’ll come to the wedding, if you’re able.”
Felicity blushed. “Oh, well, I’d love to. Thank you. You helped me as well, you know. You gave me the courage to speak up. I wish you all the best.”
“We wish you all the best,” Lady Amelia said. “Now, let’s have some breakfast and be on our way. If we’re lucky, she’ll be looking at fabric for her wedding gown.”
Felicity smiled to appear pleased, but a strange mixture of longing and sadness turned her stomach.
What would it be like to be marrying with so much joy?
Lady Amelia had wed in haste, while Lord Alston was near death.
She hadn’t a proper wedding. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had mentioned that she’d given them a special license.
What would it be like if she married Tristan?
She wouldn’t have her mother or sisters to share her special moment.
All at once she was angry. Chadwick had taken so much from her already.
“If you don’t mind, I think I will not join you in visiting Miss Blakewood. I don’t know her well. I don’t want to intrude on what is a private celebration meant to be shared with her family and friends.”
Lady Amelia frowned. “Very well. We won’t go. Anyway, it would be rude to arrive unannounced.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Lord Alston murmured.
Lady Amelia rolled her eyes. “We can take a walk around the pond. A bit of sunshine can do wonders. I know what it’s like to be trapped inside a house, and while you have reasonable concerns for staying indoors, trust me on this matter.
You need to feel the sun on your face. Graham can come with us. He intimidates everyone except me.”
Felicity accepted a plate of an assortment of breakfast foods. Despite her small appetite, she cleared her plate, and then Lady Amelia swooped her out of the house with her husband following.
She should have been scared, but Lady Amelia had an infectious bravery.
They were far from the Den, and in a fine neighborhood where her father would never expect to find her.
By the afternoon, Felicity’s feet were sore from touring the art museum with Lady Amelia.
She’d seen paintings and sculptures she couldn’t believe had been created by human hands, many of them featuring mostly nude people.
They visited a tea house, and Lady Amelia treated her to some shopping on Bond Street, insisting that she owed Felicity a great debt after helping her brother recover from his injury and enabling him to marry the woman he loved.
Flustered by her generosity, Felicity tried to dissuade her, but Lady Amelia would not be denied.
Thus, Felicity had new boots, a bonnet, and a lovely fan with little blue birds that had caught her eye.
They reminded her of the little blue and yellow birds from home.
They returned to Alston House by late afternoon and sat down for tea in the drawing room.
Felicity hoped Tristan might be there, but he wasn’t.
She missed him, even though she was certain she’d see him tonight when he snuck into her room.
A note arrived and Mr. Blakewood opened it with a frown.
He showed it to Lady Amelia, who also frowned.
“Is everything all right?” Felicity asked.
“Yes, it seems we’ll have to delay our trip to the theater.”
Felicity was secretly glad. She wanted to crawl into bed, rest her aching feet, and wait for Tristan.
“It seems we’ve all been invited to the Den by Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
“Oh,” Felicity said as her stomach coiled.
“Don’t worry.” Lady Amelia patted her knee. “We’ll be with you the whole time.”
We? Would that also include Lord Alston? He had been called away while they were on their morning walk.
Lady Amelia and her husband shared a look. Felicity pretended not to see it, but between the note and their concern, it was obvious something was afoot.
“We’re almost the same size,” Lady Amelia said. “Why don’t we see if one of my gowns will fit you? You’ll want to feel your best, and feeling your best always begins with looking your best.”
“Does it? I’ve never heard that before.”
“Oh, yes. The proper dress is just as good as armor.”
“Are we going to battle?” Felicity said warily.
“When entering the Den? One never knows.”
Felicity could almost agree, but for most of her time at the Den, she’d felt safe.
She had made friends and learned to view the world in a new, more colorful way.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon was an intimidating and indomitable woman, but she’d also been Felicity’s saving grace, her shelter in a storm.
She owed the woman more than she could ever repay.
Which was a substantial sum. Another reason Felicity was supposed to marry a wealthy man.
She had a growing debt of her own with the Black Widow of Whitehall, meant to be repaid by her inheritance once it was successfully retrieved, something she tried to forget every time she thought about a future with Tristan.
Guilt stabbed at her. Felicity was supposed to marry someone who was part of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s matchmaking scheme, a person whose status and power would force her father to concede her inheritance and pay her debt to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
But Felicity knew now she would marry Tristan or no one at all.
Would she have to make a new bargain to pay her debt?
Would she be thrown out of the Den, out of the protection of the Den?
Tristan was adamant that they could not make a life together here.
Not in his little rented room and little income.
Perhaps she could become an employee of the Den, if it came to that.
Then she and Tristan could see each other often.
But she’d still be at the mercy of her father and Chadwick if she was not married.
Felicity hated this world where her only freedom from the tyranny of her father was to become another man’s property.
Lady Amelia led her to her dressing room and with the help of Lady Amelia’s lady’s maid, Fran, they picked through Lady Amelia’s extravagant evening dresses. The sum of these gowns might be more than the cost of all of Winter’s Well.
“This one is always a stunner,” Fran said. She held up a dress of metallic silver. It had no adornment. It hung like liquid and shimmered in the lamp light.
“Hmm.” Lady Amelia folded one arm and set her chin on her fist as she studied the dress and then squinted at Felicity.