Chapter 15 #2
Striding up the outer steps, he entered the hall.
“Where to?” he asked Felicity, who was handing her cloak to the footman, a spindly creature woefully inadequate to handle the physical demands of his position.
Was this the man Felicity had threatened to have throw him out the last time Ian was here? The thought made him smile.
“Follow me,” she said, lifting a candelabra and heading for the main staircase.
I’ve breached the fortress, he thought with satisfaction as the massive oak doors closed behind them. Shifting William from arm to arm, he shrugged out of his great coat so the footman could take it. Now all I have to do is stay inside long enough to make headway with Felicity.
Mrs. Box hastened into the hall. “Well, good evening, milord.” The last time he’d seen the woman, Felicity had been railing at him. Yet the housekeeper showed no surprise at his carrying one of her charges into the house bold as brass.
He paused to greet her, and she smiled broadly at him. He had just enough time to register that she still liked him before she went right to work shooing the boys up the stairs. “It’s long past your bedtime, lads. Come along, and don’t give me no fuss now.”
As they climbed, James related to Mrs. Box the day’s events. When the boy spoke of how Ian had bought them supper and taken them home in his carriage, Mrs. Box said, “Now ain’t that gentlemanly of his lordship.” On impulse, he winked at her. When she winked back, he smiled.
Well, well, he had an ally. And he needed all the help he could get in arranging time alone with Felicity without the children. Especially when Felicity seemed overly eager to be rid of him. Staying well ahead of him, she raced up the carpeted steps.
As he studied the slim back encased in a woolen gown and guarded by a long row of pearl buttons, his mind indulged pleasant thoughts.
He would undo all those little buttons and peel back the well-laundered dress to find the thin chemise.
She wore no corset, he was fairly certain.
The chemise he would dispense with at once, so he could see her fine shoulders and kiss down the ridge of her spine to her adorable derriere.
He went hard at the thought.
Oh, yes, he’d do all that and more, perhaps even tonight. Once her brothers were settled, she’d either accept his proposal or he’d seduce her into accepting it, but one way or the other, he’d end this farce before he left here.
It shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her to marry him this time.
Ample support for his suit lay all around him.
The banister creaked beneath her hand, badly in need of repair.
On the first floor, one of the paintings that had hung on the wall near her study on his last visit was now missing, with only a faded square of wallpaper to mark its passing.
They’d decorated the house with holly and ivy cuttings for the season, but even those couldn’t hide the threadbare condition of the drapes or the paint peeling off the moldings.
He’d wager his estate that the downturn in the Taylor finances had begun long before her father’s death.
Indeed, he questioned the size of their inheritance.
And if they needed money, they needed him.
That wasn’t his first choice for a weapon—he’d rather use seduction—but he’d rely on it if necessary. First, however, he must get her alone.
James obliged him by wandering off to his own bedchamber as they left the first floor. Now there were only the triplets to squire away, an easy task with one of them already asleep, and the other two trundling along drowsily.
As soon as they reached the top floor, Felicity ushered him into a nursery with three identical beds. She hurried to turn down the covers on one. “Lay him here, please.”
After he set his warm bundle down, she faced him, looking suddenly awkward. “Thank you, Lord St. Clair. I appreciated the help. And thank you for the supper and the ride home. We all enjoyed it.”
She shot Georgie and Ansel a quick glance. “Tell his lordship thank you and good night.”
They obeyed at once, with Georgie giving broad hints concerning future outings. A word from his sister, however, silenced him.
“Well then,” she said, “I must put the boys to bed now, so Mrs. Box will show you out. It was a lovely day, but I’m sure you’re eager to be off.”
“Not at all. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
A look of panic crossed her face. “There’s no need. It will take some time for me to settle the boys in. They must have their faces washed, and—”
“I’ll tend to all that.” Mrs. Box bustled toward the other beds with great efficiency.
“You go on downstairs with his lordship. After all he done for you and the boys today, the least you can offer him is a bit of that good claret before he goes out in the cold.” She winked at him again.
“Now wouldn’t that be nice, Lord St. Clair? ”
He smiled. “Oh, yes. Claret would be perfect.” Claret and Felicity.
Not as good a combination as brandy and Felicity, but it would do for a start.
Later, they could have brandy ... and in the morning, breakfast. He doubted that Mrs. Box intended that outcome, but he found it more appealing by the minute.
“I’ll see if we have any claret,” Felicity said noncommittally, avoiding his gaze.
When they reached the hall and she’d closed the door to the nursery, he launched into a conversation meant to forestall any attempts to rush him out the door. “This is a beautiful house. Did your father design it?”
“Yes.” She offered nothing else, hurrying to the stairs.
He followed her. “I thought as much. That same griffin design is on the knocker at Worthing Manor. Your father must have liked griffins.”
“Yes.” Again, she said nothing more, but lifted her skirts and descended the steps at an astonishing pace.
Catching up to her, he clasped her arm to halt her. “Felicity, we need to talk.”
“No, you must go. You must—”
Whatever protest she was about to make was cut off when a child’s high-pitched scream rent the night.