Authors: Claudy Conn
He grinned and said as he bent to gallantly kiss her fingers, “Quite.” He offered his uninjured arm and followed Ashton and Felicia, who was astonished at the unsuspected gallantry her longtime friend had never before displayed.
Felicia found she could not stop herself from eavesdropping as Becky spoke to Scott, and she listened to their quiet conversation with great interest.
“Felicia told me you were shot trying to help someone on the road. It seems this county is full of scoundrels.”
This made Felicia smile to herself and take a peek at Scott over her shoulder as she watched him take center stage and recite the tale of his adventure.
Well, well
, she thought, here was definitely a new and far more mature man. Who was he? Was he the Scott she had grown up with? He was actually trying to impress their new friend.
This was very good fun to watch.
AT FELICIA’S HOME, Easton Manor, a great deal of excitement and havoc was taking place.
Lady Daphne had finally arrived at the manor and was apprised of the intelligence that Felicia Easton and young Scott, the neighboring squire’s son, had run off together, and no one knew where they had gone.
Upon hearing this news, Lady Daphne had put a gloved hand to her forehead and slumped into a nearby chair. Had her darling Freddy been on hand, she believed she would have fainted dead away and allowed him to take charge. He was, however, not on hand, and her odious brother had not only dropped this all in her lap but was nowhere to be found.
It was up to her to do something, but she didn’t have a notion of what that ‘something’ should be.
She eyed the servants, and they shrank into the background. The squire arrived and introduced himself as Scott Hanover’s father. She allowed him her hand and asked, “Did you have a notion they would run off to marry? Did you object to the marriage—
is that it?
”
He eyed her with his quizzing glass and made her understand in a blast of words that if she thought his son and the little minx, Flip, had run off to get married, she was no more than a fool.
She didn’t have the time to take insult. She glared at him instead asked instead, “Why then have they run off … together, pray tell?”
“From what I have gleaned from my people, and that only because one of ’em overheard Scott telling a friend of his, the duke was coming to abduct our little Flip away and marry her off. They took off to hide from the old fidget. Seems he meant to take her to Swindon of all the outlandish places, no doubt where she isn’t known and would have no protection. Felicia wouldn’t stand for it, and right she was. No woman should be forced into marriage, and if they had only confided in me, I would have stood beside them and taken care of the matter. They didn’t. Perhaps they thought I would not be able to do anything. At any rate, took fright and off they went.”
“Swindon …
the duke
…? Oh, you are speaking of my uncle?” Daphne shook her head, and then dawning lit in her eyes. “Oh …
you don’t know
. My uncle passed away, you see. Did no one even advise Miss Easton? Well, upon my word. But why my late uncle would have wanted to take her off … and, wait, he passed two months ago … why would she run now?”
“Got his letter saying he was coming for her,” the squire answered on a frown. “Someone was coming … was it you?”
“No, well, yes, but it is my brother who is now duke … he was to meet me here.”
“Well, he made a botch of it, didn’t he?” Wagging a finger at her, he added, “Where is he, this brother duke of yours?”
She pulled a face. “I am not certain. He must have been detained on the road. I was myself when we lost a wheel.”
“Well, whatever he wrote in that letter overset those two,” the squire said ominously. He fished for it in his pocket and, having found it, waved it in front of her face. “This is what one of Flip’s servants found in her room.”
She took the note and read it. She then closed her eyes and opened them to say quietly, “My brother is short and to the point, and I can see how a young lady might have taken it into her head … to think … but to bolt, and your son with her?”
“Miss Felicia Easton is not just any young lady. Spirited lass, and my son is devoted to her. Of course he would help her.”
Daphne made a mental note to tear her brother from limb to limb with her own hands, but she smiled and said softly, “Well, we must remain calm and get this all sorted out. Do, Squire, be seated so that you may address me in a rational matter, and we may, between us, find a solution to our present predicament.”
The squire, seemingly taken by her quiet air of authority, made a grunt and another sound but did, in fact, pull up a chair and sit, though he still grumbled when he said, “Right then, m’lady. Here is m’boy’s letter that he left for me … I shall read it to you, though I know better than to think he thought up these words—more than likely the little minx dictated this.”
Lady Daphne heard the affection in his tone when he spoke of Felicia Easton and waited for him to begin reading by folding her hands in her lap as she shifted in her seat.
Dearest Father:
Don’t fly into the boughs and don’t be cross. It is for the best. Taking our Flip away with me was the only answer to our problem. The Duke was on his way, you see, so there was nothing for it but to save her and I was the only one that could do that. Can’t tell you more lest you feel the need to do your duty and come after us. Mustn’t do that, you know. Will see you soon and trust in your son to see our girl safe.
Your loving son,
Scott
The squire put this letter away and looked into the Lady Daphne’s eyes to ask, “Did you ever hear such nonsense? You would think the minx feared for her life, though if it is true he meant to take her to Swindon and force her hand into marriage, I can’t say as I blame her or Scott for taking care that didn’t happen.” He leveled a look at her. “What sort of fellow is your brother to frighten her like that?”
“I am all at sea,” she confessed. “I have no idea why she should have taken such a fright into her head. She doesn’t even know him … didn’t know our uncle, and my uncle wasn’t the sort to force her into marriage. It is absurd. He had no need of her wealth, and both his sons died at Waterloo … tragic, and what is in Swindon? I have no idea.” She regarded the squire pointedly and asked, “Well, then, Squire, if they have not eloped, then just what have they done?”
“Zounds, if I know, woman!” the squire retorted irritably.
“Faith!” was her response. What, just what was she to do?
“The question is, while I know they aren’t eloping, people won’t know it, and eventually it will get out that they have run off together. I don’t want the minx involved in a scandal … nor do I want my son offering for her just to save her reputation. A damnable fix this is.”
Lady Daphne suddenly found herself sympathetic. This was all her late uncle’s fault for frightening the child half to death and then her brother’s for not visiting with her immediately. She could see this was something she was going to have to handle, and she knew just how to put
out
the embers of a brewing scandal. “Right,” she said with firmness. “No scandal will ensue from their youthful exploit, for I can see it all, and that is what it is, a youthful exploit, ill conceived but dangerous to both their reputations. I shall see to this—we will not have a scandal.”
“You will see to it? How?” he asked doubtfully.
“It will take some work, but it can be done,” she answered thoughtfully as she formulated a plan in her mind.
“You will set it about that you have sent your son off to London on some business errand you required him to see to for you. Make certain you tell all your cronies this. See to it that the staff believes this.”
“My staff knows better,” he said doubtfully.
“Do they? Yet they shall not accuse you of lying?” She arched a brow.
“Of course not!”
“There, you see. Scott is in London. When I am done, it is what everyone will believe as a fact. As to my charge, my brother sent me here to care for her and prepare her for her first London season. She is away, visiting with one of her friends from school, so I am waiting for her return.”
“The staff here already knows otherwise,” the squire said, eyeing her.
“Yes, they do, and I believe are quite loyal to her. They have pampered and looked after her for quite some time, have they not?”
“Yes, but—”
“Ah, they did not even wish to tell me she was not at home. They had no choice and even then made up some flummery about her being at a friend’s estate.”
“Yes, yes, this could work …” he said hopefully.
“Of course it will work. Who would doubt me?”
He eyed her respectfully. “Not any that I can think of. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you remain here?”
“Only long enough to make certain your neighbors know that, having waited long enough, I am off to join her and then escort her to the duke, who awaits us in London.”
“Yes, this may work, yes, indeed,” he said and added, “Well then, my lady. You are quite a bit more than just a piece of society froth. Indeed, and you have a kind heart. Thought I saw it in your pretty eyes, and now I know it.” He started for the door. “I shall start putting it about that Scott has gone off to London.”
“Excellent,” Daphne said brightly and didn’t let her worry about this entire affair show on her face. Worried? She was nearly frantic. She already felt for the child. Alone and so frightened she had taken off in the night. Well, she decided, going to see Cook in the kitchen, no better time than now to get things started, and who better than the servants to start it about that Miss Easton was off visiting a school friend.
ASHTON HAD ORDERED a luncheon to be served in the private parlor and was content to find that the innkeeper’s wife had set out a simple but quite delectable selection of entrées and side dishes on the long, dark oak sideboard.
Hence, it was some twenty minutes before any real conversation took place, as both ladies and their gentlemen companions were too hungry to do anything else but eat.
Felicia took a last savory mouthful and sat back with a contented sigh to say, “Hmm. That was excellent.”
“Lord, my dear Felicia,” Becky returned on a laugh, “you shoveled that down in a thrice, didn’t you?”
“Dreadful cat!” Felicia wagged a finger and cast her an amused eye. “You haven’t done so badly yourself.”
“Ah, but I am entitled. I was the victim of this adventure and haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon,” drawled Miss Wilson superiorly.
“Yes, there is that,” agreed Felicia and then narrowed her eyes. “Ah, but all you had to do was lie there semi-conscious and expend no energy whatsoever, while we did all the work to rescue you.” She got to her feet and moved towards the courtyard window as laughter and an exchange of remarks took place.
She saw Ashton get to his feet and cross to a writing desk, where he sat and took up a quill and paper. Hmm, she wondered. Who was he writing to? She meandered towards him and asked idly, “Writing Becky’s father?”
He eyed her seriously, though there was a twinkle in his silver-lit eyes. “No, I have already written to him, so there would be no need for another missive. In fact, we may soon find him walking through the inn door.”
“Oh,” Felicia said, wishing he would tell her who he was writing to and wondering how she could find out.
He seemed amused by her open curiosity and teased her further by saying, “Indeed, I fear we shall lose her delightful company any moment now.”
Felicia pouted, realized she was pouting, and dispensed with it. “Well, drat that. It is the worst part of this adventure. I wish she could stay on with us and make the trip to London as well. What fun we would have.”
Becky had gotten up and walked near enough to hear this last and said with a small snort, “I daresay every moment you are awake is a terror of adventure, Felicia.”
“Yes, but now I should like you to join me in my adventures,” Felicia said and laughed. “I shall miss you terribly,” Felicia added, genuinely distressed over this.
“Madcap!” Becky pronounced. “I don’t mean to let you slip out of my life so easily.”
Felicia moved and put an arm about her new friend’s waist. “I don’t know how it is, but I feel as though we have been friends forever, or at least should be.”
Becky laughed and said, “I quite agree.”
Scott grinned and took up another apple tart and downed it, appearing well pleased with the situation. He swallowed and added, “Aye, I agree with Flip. Don’t think we should allow your father to take you away.”
Felicia smiled and turned back to Ashton. “So if you aren’t writing Becky’s father … oh, you must be writing home? No doubt a wife … or sweetheart?”
He refrained from the mirth that nearly choked him and said gravely, “I am not married and do not at the moment have
a sweetheart
.”
Their eyes locked as before, and Felicia felt the breath catch in her throat. “Ah, no wife, no sweetheart? I am surprised.”
“Are you?” he asked and then wickedly, his eyes bright, he said, “Perhaps it is because I have too many of them to write them all.”
Her face must have shown her dismay, as he laughed and said, “I am only jesting, love, only jesting. But, you must have realized by now that I don’t allow anyone to question what I do or don’t do, but in your case, I shall make an exception, this one time.” His gaze swept over her face, and his eyes were warm as they looked into hers. “I am writing to my sister, whom I was to have met. By now, she may be seriously worried. There, minx, are you satisfied?”
Felicia blushed and noted that Becky was eyeing them curiously.
Oh, what must she think?
Felicia almost giggled like a schoolgirl. His words had made her giddy with pleasure.
It was at this moment, however, that Becky’s attention was taken by Scott, who had put a few questions to her. As the two put their heads together, laughing over some anecdote he told her, Felicia once again met Ashton’s eyes.
Oh
, she thought,
I am quite thoroughly taken—so very taken with this titan of a man.
* * *
An hour later, Becky’s father arrived on the scene, and a tearful meeting took place that warmed all their hearts.
Between tears and laughter, hugs and handshakes, he whisked his daughter off. There was an awkward moment when Ashton felt a twinge of guilt as he continued the lie of omission during the introductions. There might come a time in the future when the squire would discover that he was actually not Mr. Glen Ashton but the Duke of Somerset, and what would he think? He should have introduced himself as the Duke of Somerset; it was the only right thing to do, but he simply wasn’t ready to give up his identity. Perhaps this omission would go unnoticed?
Scott sighed and looked forlorn as he watched Becky leave. He then announced that he was fatigued and would return to his bed for a nap. Ashton turned to see Felicia sigh sadly.
She was tireless. Like him, restless. What they both needed was to get out. “Shall we take a bit of a ride, you and I?”
Her face brightened at once. “Oh, yes.”
He found himself reaching for and receiving her hand. It was a thrilling experience. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before when he touched a woman’s hand. A shiver rushed through his body, and he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to be with this imp of a woman, watch her flitting expression, look into her eyes … kiss her.
Kiss her? Where had that come from? Damn, but if he were honest with himself, he had been wanting to kiss her from the first moment he’d found her.
When they reached the stables, Felicia meandered over to a small, grassy paddock. A stranger’s horse was prancing about and snorting. Ashton watched her as she watched the handsome gelding.
He followed and stood by her. After a moment, he said, “Come, Felicia … they have our horses saddled.”
She turned to him, and, for a moment, she took, literally took, the breath right out of his lungs. She was stunning. Every single time he looked at her, he found her more beautiful than the last.
Without trying, with her hair blowing about her uncovered head, she simply caused his breath to hitch in his throat. She smiled and said lightly, “Yes, of course, but do look at him. Is he not handsome?”
Ashton glanced again towards the snowy gray prancing about and ignoring the hay that he had been given in a pile in one corner of the paddock. “He is … now come, and I will give you a leg up.”
She eyed him. “You do always want to have control, do you not?”
“I know what is needed,” he said simply, “and attend to it.”
It was at that moment that the owner of the gray turned, and Ashton’s eyes narrowed as the man actually looked Felicia over from her head to her boots.
Ashton had a sudden urge to commit the man to the ground when Felicia politely inclined her head towards the gallant smiling too warmly at her.
Ashton knew she was still naïve enough not to snub a young man for smiling at her, but he saw that the bloody devil took it as encouragement.
Cross, as much with himself for allowing her to be in such a situation as with the young man, he leveled a withering look at the bold man and saw her take note with a repressed giggle. She seemed to swallow a laugh, and he said softly, reprimanding her, “Ignore him and come with me.”
“Yes, master,” she teased.
He ignored this and said as she took her reins, “Up with you on the count of three.”
He saw her mounted, and as she adjusted her black velvet riding skirt around her gelding, he walked over to the groom holding his horse. He took up his reins to nimbly mount, landing lightly into his saddle.
The owner of the snowy gray had, during this short time, managed to sidle up to Felicia. He patted her horse’s neck and told her quietly, but within Ashton’s hearing, “What a charmer, the like of which I have never seen before.”
She arched a brow at his bold meaning and lifted her chin. “You cannot mean that, as your horse is far more prime.”
“I wasn’t speaking about the horse,” he answered, and this time his smile was a leer.
Ashton had already maneuvered his horse and came around to tell the young gallant, “I don’t think we have been properly introduced, nor do I think I intend that to happen.” So saying, he nodded to Felicia and made certain she started off by giving her horse’s rump a light pat.
A giggle forced its gurgling way out of her throat. She grinned at Ashton, looked back at the gallant Ashton had summarily dealt with, and giggled again. “You were quite dreadful to that poor young man,” she told him.
“He was ogling you and deserved worse than I gave him, and he dashed well knows it.” Ashton frowned. “It is my fault taking you about without even a maid or a groom in attendance. Men will get the wrong idea, you see.”
Her expression flitted over her features as apparent dawning lit in her brain, but instead of shock, she burst out laughing. “Oh! That is why he was so very forward. I wondered at it.” So saying she laughed again and added, “So then he thought me a veritable light-skirts, eh?”
He turned a shocked expression to her. “Felicia!”
This only made her laugh even more, and he found himself joining in on her mirth, at which point she said, “Come on, then, if we mean to ride before we lose the best of the day.”
“As you command, m’lady,” he returned grandly, giving her a mock bow from his saddle and trotting his horse up to ride alongside her.
“Be careful, madcap,” he said. “You can’t canter him off now, as I see you mean to do, without a proper warm-up.”
“I have been riding for as long as I can remember, often without a saddle,” she answered with her brow up. “I know what I can and cannot do.”
Scott’s horse under him nipped playfully at her horse, and he reprimanded him. Felicia laughed, he presumed with the joy of being on horseback, and during that moment he realized he had never been happier.
Just what—what was happening to him?