“What did you find out?” Delilah rushed to ask.
“It is not good,” Ruth told them quietly, her hands pausing in their work. “It appears that several of the women he entertains leave covered in bruises. His reputation is that of a man you do not interact with unless you are truly desperate. The women who go there and come back are never the same.”
Felicity shuddered then, her thoughts imagining the worst kind of horrors.
“He looks at you like you’re some kind of prize,” Delilah whispered, her voice filled with terror, “just another thing to collect and display for the accolade.”
“Enough of that now,” Ruth declared, waving her hands as if to clear the air. “He is not here at present, and we have a ball to get you both ready for.”
Thrown back into the flurry of getting dressed, Felicity let herself be distracted. As exhausting as it could be to attend one event or another night after night, she cherished the time she spent getting ready with her sister. It made the dressing up in beautiful gowns and being poked with a thousand hair pins all the more exciting. The next half hour was spent slipping into their gowns and tucking the last few stray strands of hair into place. It was only seconds after Ruth announced both girls were ready that the door to Felicity’s dressing room swung open, and a gasp sounded at the threshold.
“Wow,” Laurel sighed, “you look like princesses, both of you!”
Felicity smiled at her younger sister, her naïveté and innocence endearing.
“I wish I could go with you.”
“Laurel,” Felicity said with soft admonishment in her tone, “you are only thirteen. You are entirely too young to be out and in society.”
Her sister’s twinkling blue eyes dimmed a bit at that.
“Don’t worry,” Delilah said, pulling Laurel into the room with a hand on her shoulder, “you will have plenty of time to attend balls and flirt with suitors.”
The three sisters shared wide grins at that idea.
“What do you think it will be like?” Laurel asked, sitting on the chair in front of the vanity, her slippered feet swinging.
“What do I thinkwhatwill be like?” Felicity raised an eyebrow.
“Your wedding.” Laurel said the words like it should have been obvious.
“It will be beautiful,” Delilah answered, a romantic look glazing her eyes over. “I want flowers everywhere, white and pink bouquets tied to everything. I want a long train and the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen, but it has to be an heirloom, something his mother wanted me to have.”
“Oh yes!” Laurel cut in. “He’ll be so tall and handsome. Someone who loves to dance and read me poetry. He’ll be so in love with me that he won’t be able to stand the thought of me dancing with any other bachelors, announcing our engagement at some grand ball so that everyone knows I am his.”
“He will want to lavish me with gifts. A new wardrobe every season, carriages and horses and a house I can decorate however I want. He’ll do anything to make me happy.”
Both of her younger sisters giggled then, their dreams of love and marriage so blissfully unburdened, it made Felicity’s heart ache. Her thoughts slipped to Benjamin, although if she was honest, she would have to admit they never strayed too far from him. His letter had arrived only minutes before Ruth came to dress her for the ball. She hoped her short reply was enough. She hadn’t had the time to write out the long response she wanted to give him, to ask the questions that bubbled at his words, but she also wanted him to know she would be there, expecting to share a dance.
In the light of her sister’s daydreams and idealistic hopes for the future, however, Felicity felt her own dreams dwindle. There was hardly enough money for a single dowry, let alone four with the grand weddings Delilah and Laurel wanted. If they were to have everything they dreamed of, Felicity needed to marry well, further dashing her excitement of seeing Benjamin tonight.
Despite her affection for the man growing with each letter, she knew that without a title and the wealth to back it, Felicity had no choice but to look elsewhere for a husband.
“Time to go, my dears,” her mother’s shrill voice called up from the base of the stairs.
Laurel flounced out of the room after one last compliment to her sisters. With a determined look at Delilah, Felicity squared her shoulders and made her way down the stairs to the awaiting carriage they could not afford. She had to be successful this season, and she had to find a match if her sister’s dreams were ever to come true.
* * *
“Who are you looking for?” her mother’s harsh whisper made Felicity’s head snap around.
“No one. I apologize, I was only trying to see who was in attendance.” She sent her mother a weak smile, hoping that she would accept the half-truth.
“She must be looking for Lord Roberts,” Lady Eunice Abbott announced in a sing-song voice.
Felicity wasn’t sure how they always seemed to wind up next to the Abbott family at these events, but she did not enjoy the company.
“Who is this Lord Roberts?” her father asked.