“Yes!” he said, obviously pleased with her feigned interest, “although none of them, save for my father’s horses, are alive. All of mine have been stuffed and mounted.”
“Oh, how… incredible.” She couldn’t quite match his enthusiasm, not that he seemed to notice.
“I am so glad you think so. May I come calling on you? Perhaps we could arrange a date for a dinner party with your mother before the night is over.” He looked over her shoulder towards her mother as if he intended to stalk away from the dance floor and do that this very instant.
The musicians played the last few notes and applause went up, signaling the end of their dance. Her shoulders almost sagged in relief as he twirled her around four more times. Without giving the man an answer, Felicity curtsied along with the rest of the dancers, forcing Lord Fitzroy to bow as well.
“Thank you,” she said, cutting him off from saying anything more, “for the dance. If you will excuse me, I must return to my mother.”
Without waiting for his response, Felicity walked toward her family as quickly as she dared. The last thing she wanted was to draw more attention to herself, but after the dance, and perhaps the company, Felicity found herself in desperate need of some air. She had spent the entire carriage ride here convincing herself that she could do this, she could find the most advantageous marriage and go through with it no matter who the man was. But a handful of snide comments and one obtuse dance partner later and Felicity was almost sick at the idea of being stuck to a man like Lord Hugh Fitzroy for the rest of her life. It was not like he was particular or unsightly. In fact, she found his blonde hair and boyish face somewhat endearing. What she truly couldn’t stand was the idea of being someone’s trophy, to forever live without conversation or companionship.
“How was your dance with LordHugh?” Hannah sneered.
Her feeble attempts to prove she knew the man better by using his Christian name had little effect on Felicity. Felicity wondered if the girl could hear the jealousy in her voice. Judging by the way Lady Eunice pinched her daughter, she assumed at least everyone else could.
“It was pleasant. He was quite the ostentatious dancer.”
It was the best compliment she could come up with. Every second she stayed in this overcrowded, overheated room, she got closer to causing a scene.
“Do you think he will come calling?”
The anticipatory hope in her mother’s eyes reminded Felicity of what rested on her shoulders. Her marriage would never be about only her needs and desires. Delilah’s pained expression told Felicity that her sister was also contemplating why something as simple as a dance could be life changing.
“He did mention it, yes.” Felicity willed her words to sound excited and not to relay the dread that sat pooling in her stomach. “If you will excuse me, I must find the privy.”
Her ribs constricted against her corset as she struggled to draw in a deep enough breath.
“Of course, dear, but hurry back. Every moment you are gone is a moment wasted in finding you a match!”
Her stomach tightened at her mother’s reminder. Her vision began to blur as she turned away.
“You might try to remedy your hair while you’re there, child,” Lady Eunice called after her, but Felicity was already gone.
CHAPTER2
My Lord Hayman,
We are most pleased to accept your invitation. While my husband is unable to join in on the night’s events, my daughters and I will be in attendance. Thank you for the invitation; we are looking forward to all your evening has in store.
Lady Edith Kent, Viscountess of Woking
* * *
It took everything in Felicity not to pick up her skirts and run. She so desperately needed air, needed space that her lungs were screaming at her. She didn’t know what would be worse — fainting in the middle of a ball or fleeing the dance like her hair was on fire. Putting every bit of focus on taking unhurried steps, Felicity wound her way through the crowd, inching along the walls at the back. When she got to the end of the room, she found herself staring down a corridor filled with more people. She wasn’t sure where it would take her, but the last thing she wanted to do was squeeze herself through the tightly packed space.
Then she felt it. A soft breeze reached out and ever so gently caressed the side of her face, drawing her attention to the other side of the room. A sigh slipped out as she turned once more and made her way through the glass doors and onto the veranda. While guests still stood, littered throughout the space, there were significantly fewer people than anywhere else she had seen, and with the open sky above her, she felt she could breathe once more.
This time, she did gather her skirts into her hands, intending on finding a place to sit for a moment. The crisp autumn breeze was already doing wonders in clearing her head. She looked out to the edges of the veranda, finding the benches lining the patio already filled. She spun to check the seats on the other side when something solid and decidedly taller than she slammed into her. A deep grunt sounded. The little breath she had been able to suck in during her time outside swept out of her lungs in a woosh.
“Forgive me,” she wheezed, “I did not see you.”
Felicity kept her eyes on the stone floor, not yet steady enough to look at her victim.
“It is I who should be apologizing. I did not move out of your way fast enough.”
His voice was warm and kind. Felicity immediately took a liking to it. She only gave herself a moment longer to collect herself before curiosity got the better of her. Peeling her eyes up, she took in the man standing in front of her. He was dressed much like any other man here — in a fine set of tails and breeches, a cravat intricately knotted around his neck. Her initial impression of his size was accurate. The man was well over six feet tall and had shoulders that blocked her view of anything around him. He had a proud chin that extended from his strong jawline. Felicity found him to be extraordinarily handsome, even with the large scar running down the length of his left cheek. Unlike every other man, however, he seemed to be genuinely looking at her as if seeking the answer to a question. It was then that it dawned on her that he had, indeed, asked a question. He had asked if she was all right. She couldn’t remember a time someone, other than her sisters, of course, had asked ifshewas all right.
“I-I am fine,” she stammered, her eyes catching on his. “I only need a moment out in the fresh air. Please, forgive me.”