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Another quick glance showed that his mouth smiled, and somehow the creature had curled itself into his jacket with its head barely peeking up. If Felicity was not mistaken, it was sleeping. Seeing the duke’s townhouse in the distance, she silently sighed with relief. Or was it disappointment? With a wince, Felicity admitted this encounter might have been the most exciting event in her life these last ten years.

“Why are you ‘a sort of kind of servant?’ Are you a governess?”

It jolted her that he had been listening that keenly to her words. “My mother is the companion to a duchess, and I…I am also a companion to the duchess’s daughter.”

“Ah…charity cases.”

She flushed, mortification burning deep inside her chest.

“Forgive my bluntness,” he said in a flat tone.

“There is nothing to forgive. It is a mere truth,” she said with a tight smile. Her father had died several years ago, and without a son, the little estate their family owned in Berkshire went to the closest male relative who had made it known they could not live on at the seven-bedroom manor, for he did not have the charity to feed and clothe them.

All of Felicity’s marriage prospects had vanished overnight, and they had only survived thus far because of the few friends her mother had in the city. Still, it was terribly humiliating to be a guest in several ladies’ homes until they were gently encouraged to move on for overstaying their welcome. The duke’s townhouse loomed and she slowed her steps. “I’ve arrived. Thank you.”

He glanced up at the large imposing door. “Ah, Hartford’s residence.”

“You are friends?”

“Hartford is known to me,” he said enigmatically.

Felicity bit into her lower lip, tempted to ask his name. However, she noted he had not asked after hers, and she did not want to be presumptuous. There was little chance they would ever encounter each other again. Dipping into another quick curtsy, she said, “I bid you farewell, sir.”

“Take the umbrella.”

Looking behind them, she noted his carriage was still parked farther up the street. “I cannot take your shelter, sir. It is but a short distance to the door. I shall not wilt.”

She dashed from under the covering, gasping at the icy bite of rain. Felicity ran up the steps, and the butler opened the door as if he had anticipated her arrival. As she stepped over the threshold, she glanced around, but her stranger was no longer there. Peeking up the street, she saw him walking toward the carriage that now rumbled toward him. She was dripping copiously and should have entered by the servants’ entrance. Stepping back and allowing the butler to close the door, Felicity couldn’t help wondering who that man was and if she would ever see him again.

CHAPTERTWO

Present day…

Phineas Olivier Lambton, Earl of Wyndham, had to find himself a fiancée, and he had to find her quickly and with little fuss.How in God’s name have I gotten myself into this mess?Scrubbing a hand over his face, he closed the book he’d been attempting to read his nanna. She did not want to hear the gripping tale of murder, revenge, and romance. His grandmother wanted to know about his future wife and the babies they would produce.

“Did you hear me, lad?” His grandmother asked in a thin, whispery voice, so very different from her normally robust exuberant way of speaking.

He cleared the stiffness from his throat, not liking the heavy press of emotions that sat on his heart. Phineas had never been the emotional sort growing up, even eschewing the hugs and kisses his mother and older sisters seemed determined to press upon his cherub cheeks. But seeing his formidable grandmother looking so wan and listless, her frame almost swallowed by the large four-poster bed gutted him. Phineas wanted to roar his denial and slam his fist into a rock. He was acquainted with death, having lost his father ten years ago. He knew the sting of grief would lessen, especially when the life mourned had been well lived.

At five and seventy, his grandmother had lived a full and wonderful life. Her marriage had been a love match, and they’d had forty-eight years together before he went on to his reward. She had four children and enjoyed a few grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. Yes, her life had been a blessed one, and it had been enjoyed without regrets. Still, he was not ready to lose her. Could not bear the idea of it.

“Well?” she whispered with a weak sigh. “When am I to meet Jane?”

Jane. Jane. Jane. Bloody hell Jane.

That blasted name belonged to a fictitious lady. The perfect woman who had agreed to marry him but chose to remain in the country to care for an ailing father. Jane was rather shy and did not enjoy town life. She was attached to her father and helped him with his scientific experiments. Her mother needed her help with planning a younger sister’s marriage. All the glib excuses he had used for the last fourteen months to explain why this fiancée of his had not presented herself to his family. His most famous excuse that he was not ready for a formal announcement could no longer stand as his nan’s dying wish was to meet Jane before she went on to her reward.

“You will meet her soon,” he promised, his mind churning and wondering why he had dredged up the ridiculous scheme at all.

Peace,Phineas reminded himself grimly. Peace from his family’s incessant schemes to see him marry off as if all titled lords over thirty must be in desperate want of a wife and an heir shortly after. He was tempted to tell her it had all been a ruse, then he recalled the doctor warned she should suffer no shock, upset, or startlement. “Nan, now is not the time to worry about Jane. She is not important. What is important is you resting and recovering, spending as much time with us as possible.”

A very decided glint entered his nan’s dark green eyes. That glint had him reassessing her frailness. “There is one thing I want most in the world to see before I go on to my reward, Phineas. And that is to meet your fiancée and spend some time with the lady I will entrust with your heart.”

Bloody hell. What heart? What nonsense was this? “Nanna, I am not at all certain you are up to such a visit. I will have Jane write—”

“Youmustbring her here to Hertfordshire this very instant,” she said in that formidable tone he missed. Then she wilted against the soft pillows as if it sapped all her remaining energy. A sob sounded as if it caught in her throat, and to his alarm, a tear leaked from her eye. His nan never cried. Swift guilt kicked him in the gut, and he rose from the chair and sat beside her bed. Phineas took her hand between his and gently squeezed. “I will see it done.”

His nan’s eyes widened with something akin to shock, and he realized then she had not truly believed he would capitulate.


Tags: Alyssa Clarke Historical