Chapter 18 #3
“Oh, Miss Taylor,” the woman said sympathetically. “I’d tell you in a moment if not for my promise. You’re right about the thorn in his heart. It lies so deep, he won’t even speak of it to me, and I know all that happened. Yet he needs to speak of it.”
“If you tell me what happened, I can make him speak of it.”
“No. It must work its way to the surface before he can be rid of it.”
Despair crept over her again. “Is there no way I can help him?”
With a smile, the older woman chucked her under the chin.
“I think you’ve already begun. When he came yesterday to tell me of the wedding, there was a light in his eyes I haven’t seen since he was a young man.
In the past, his descriptions of women he courted were always unemotional recitations of their qualities.
But you he called ‘the most vexing creature in London—headstrong, brazen, and badly in need of a man’s guiding hand.
’ It was quite clear to me he couldn’t wait to provide that ‘guiding hand.’”
“That proves nothing,” she grumbled. “He’s a bully, you know.”
She chuckled. “Only with you apparently, and that’s because his emotions are engaged. Besides, I find very curious his reluctance to reveal that his fiancée was Lord X. Either he wanted to protect you, or he didn’t want me to think ill of you. Both show he cares.”
Felicity twisted the handkerchief. “Or that your opinion matters a lot to him.”
“We’re friends, yes.”
Unwarranted though it was, jealousy seized her again.
“So why didn’t he marry you? I-I mean, before I met him.
Your station in life is no lower than mine.
Some of the women he courted were extremely ill-suited to him.
At least with you he would have been comfortable and needn’t have feared you wouldn’t accept him. ”
“My dear Miss Taylor, he would never have asked me. You see, I know too much about his ‘thorn,’ as you call it, and though I consider it only a tragic incident in his past, to him it is so deep and black, he can’t imagine any woman wanting him who knows of it.
That’s why he won’t tell you. Because he fears scaring you off. ”
She laid her hand kindly on Felicity’s. “Besides, even if he’d asked, I wouldn’t have accepted.”
That surprised her. “Because you were in love with his uncle?”
“Hardly.” Her tone grew chilly. “I wasn’t Edgar Lennard’s mistress by choice, you see.
He made it quite clear after his wife died that I could either be his mistress or be accused of a crime and transported.
At twenty-two, I was terrified of him. As an orphan with no family, I lacked anyone to champion my cause, and it would have been his word against mine.
So I stayed on as his mistress. Yet I was only too happy when he discharged me, even if it meant poverty or something equally low. ”
She smiled. “But much as I appreciated Lord St. Clair’s coming to my rescue at that moment, I had no desire to marry him.
It would’ve been awkward, considering his ties to Edgar and my son.
I’m sure he would have been perfectly kind about it, but I didn’t want such kindness.
You see, I’m much like you. Despite my ruined reputation, I should like to marry for love myself. ”
She drew back with a sigh, as if suddenly aware that she’d revealed more of herself than she’d wished.
“But that’s unlikely to happen. Still, I should like to see it happen for Lord St. Clair.
And I think it will, if you’re there to heal the wound when the festering sore around his thorn finally breaks open.
You will be there, won’t you? I’ve set your mind at ease concerning him? ”
Oddly enough she had. There was something comforting in the knowledge that Miss Greenaway knew all the facts about Ian’s past and wasn’t appalled. Whatever troubled Ian, it wasn’t insurmountable.
There was the sound of a door opening, and then a young woman popped her head in the parlor doorway. “I’m back, Miss Greenaway. Shall I take Walter for you?”
“No, Agnes, thank you. He’s napping.”
“Shall I tell the man to return the gig to the livery then?” Agnes asked.
Miss Greenaway turned to Felicity. “What time did you say was your wedding?”
Felicity froze. Damn, she’d forgotten all about the time. She scanned the room for a clock, groaning aloud when she spotted one. “Good Lord, I’m supposed to be at the church in ten minutes! I’ll never make it!”
“Yes, you shall. We’ll go in the gig.” Miss Greenaway started for the parlor door. “I can let you out at the entrance to the church, and no one need ever know I was there. Agnes can watch Walter, and if we move quickly, we might make it in time.”
“I still have to dress and everything!” Felicity wailed as she hurried after Miss Greenaway. “The gown is at the church, but we’ll be so dreadfully late ... oh, Ian is going to kill me!”
“No, he’s not. I daresay the man is probably running a bit late himself. We’ll get you there on time, never fear.” Casting an anxious look at the clock, Miss Greenaway grabbed Felicity’s hand and tugged her toward the parlor door. “But we must hurry! Come on, Miss Taylor!”