A Talent for Trouble (13 page)

Grayson couldn't help but feel a stab of sympathy for Felicia. Granted, she had gone willingly into the pub on her own, but what had happened in there, and the danger she might even now be facing, was not her fault. It was his, pure and simple. He moved to Ruth's side and touched her arm. “I take full responsibility for your daughter's condition, Mrs. Murdock. It's my fault she's covered in ale.”

Jeffrey let out a sound that seemed almost a growl. “You dumped ale on my sister?”

Grayson glanced to Jeffrey's now-fisted hands and couldn't really say he blamed the gentleman for his anger. Felicia was not looking her best, nor had they apparently explained the situation well. He opened his mouth to add more details, but
before he could get a single word out, Felicia stepped forward and shook her finger at her brother.

“Of course Grayson didn't dump ale on my head. I dumped the ale on myself when I hit that man over the head with a full tankard of the substance.”

Grayson knew even before Ruth turned red in the face and began yelling that Felicia's statement had been exactly the wrong thing to say.

M
inutes later, Felicia shifted on the seat of the pony cart and swiveled her head, a distinct flash of disgruntlement settling over her when she saw the rather ferocious gentleman Theodore had sent to guard her trailing her cart from a discreet distance. Why she even needed a guard was still a little confusing because the discussion they'd been having regarding Grayson's past had come to an abrupt end the moment Ruth had begun yelling.

It hadn't escaped her notice that Grayson had been relieved by the abrupt change in conversation. He'd used Ruth's dismay over her daughter's participation in a brawl as a means to get Felicia, accompanied by Jeffrey, quickly out of Theodore's office and on her way with barely another word said. She had heard Grayson tell Theodore something about “ruthless Chinese practices” and that “anyone who shared an association with him might be in danger,” but since her mother had been delivering a blistering lecture to Felicia regarding the impropriety of a lady being in a pub, she hadn't been able to hear anything else.

No, she'd been sent on her way, none the wiser as to what was actually transpiring. She was decidedly put out with Grayson. He'd evidently made the decision she didn't need to be well informed but was simply supposed to go along with being saddled with a guard and not be given answers to her questions. Such as . . . why would anyone still believe him to be alive if the whole Wu family had been slaughtered and . . . what dastardly business had the Wu family, and Grayson, been involved with in the first place?

The guard took that moment to yell something in her and Jeffrey's direction, which caused her to turn front and center, not wanting to even acknowledge the man. But when she did so, she realized he'd been yelling out a warning, because poor Thor was drifting toward the wrong side of the street, directly into the path of a large delivery wagon. She uttered a small shriek, snapped her mouth shut when she remembered Thor didn't appreciate those, tugged on the reins, and breathed a sigh of relief when she missed the delivery wagon with inches to spare. The disgruntlement that had been plaguing her for quite some time turned to downright grumpiness when Jeffrey let out a laugh by her side, even as he gripped the edge of his seat all too dramatically before making an elaborate production of wiping nonexistent sweat from his brow.

“You could have told me Thor was veering into traffic.”

Jeffrey grinned. “True, if I'd actually been paying attention. I don't think you noticed, but there was a delightful-looking young lady walking down the sidewalk. Since I foolishly forgot for a brief moment that you possess abysmal driving abilities, I was giving her my full attention instead of diligently looking after our lives.”

That didn't deserve a response.

“You've landed yourself in what appears to be a fine mess,” Jeffrey said cheerfully, causing her state of grumpiness to
increase. “Why, I can't recall a time when Mother's been so distinctly put out with you. Makes for a nice change of pace, don't you think? She normally reserves her ire for me.”

“She's never annoyed with you.”

“Except for when she's nagging me to find a wife and lamenting the fact that I've apparently allowed so many fine catches to slip through my fingers.”

Felicia wrinkled her brow. “Who did you allow to slip through your fingers?”

“Well, first there was Eliza, whom, if you must know, I found completely delightful, until Hamilton stole her right from under my nose; and then there was Arabella.” Jeffrey released an exaggerated sigh. “She's entirely too beautiful and intelligent for her own good, which was why I was somewhat hesitant to approach her, but then Theodore swooped in and swept her off her feet, and now, well, I'm left with slim pickings. Not that Mother seems to understand that, as she nags me on an almost daily basis to choose a wife.”

“She just wants to see you happy.”

“I think she wants grandbabies to dangle on her knee. Since you haven't been kind enough to oblige her on that account, she's turned her full attention to me.”

“I would have been perfectly content to settle down as a wife and mother by now, but . . . apparently I was completely misguided as to whom I should set my sights on. Now I'm quite certain the only mothering I'll ever get to experience will be to the dozen cats I keep seeing slinking around my feet in my future.”

“My, my, you are feeling sorry for yourself today, aren't you? And just to remind you, you loathe cats, so I don't think that picture you keep seeing of yourself in the future will actually ever come to pass.”

Felicia felt her lips curl ever so slightly. “Yes, well, I'm in no
mood to contemplate my murky future at the moment, so let us return to your dilemma of securing yourself a wife so Mother will stop nagging you. What about Agatha Watson? She's charming, and I would adore having her as a sister-in-law.”

“Agatha is indeed charming, but there is that pesky little problem of her being in love with Zayne Beckett. I'm not keen on pursuing a lady who has firmly placed her affection on another gentleman.”

“I wasn't aware so many people knew about Agatha's affection for Zayne.”

Jeffrey smiled. “I'm not certain many people are, but I took note of Agatha's interest in Zayne at Mother's Christmas ball.”

A thread of discomfort sliced through her. She'd had no idea Jeffrey had been interested in Eliza, Arabella, or even Agatha, for that matter. In fact, she couldn't really remember a time she and Jeffrey had exchanged anything other than simple pleasantries over the past four years. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she was shocked to discover he had distinct traces of white mixed in with his golden hair. She turned toward him, reached out her hand, and yanked one of the hairs out, bringing it closer to get a better view.

Jeffrey rubbed his head. “Honestly, Felicia, what's gotten into you? That hurt.”

“I thought I saw some white in your hair.”

“Of course you did. It's been turning white for years, but even though some take issue with white hair—you apparently included with that bunch—I prefer leaving it on my head, if it's all the same to you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I've come to believe the white lends me an appearance of distinction.”

She was shocked to realize she no longer knew Jeffrey, or truth be told, any of her brothers. How could she have possibly allowed that to happen? Granted, none of her brothers lived in
the family mansion anymore, but they were frequent visitors, and they went to the same society events she attended.

Was it possible that she'd allowed her pursuit of Reverend Fraser and her charitable endeavors to stand in the way of establishing true relationships with everyone, including her own family?

For someone who'd made the staunch claim numerous times that she was a devoted woman of God, her actions did not lend much credence to that particular claim. God could hardly be pleased with her at the moment, considering her quest to obtain her own selfish desires had resulted in the dreadful neglect of her family and friends.

It was past time she corrected that situation and past time she began living a life that would actually allow her to become the faith-filled woman she'd been portraying herself as for years.

She closed her eyes for just a moment to send God a prayer, asking Him for forgiveness and assistance as she vowed to rectify her life and strive to do better in the future.

She opened her eyes and felt them widen in horror when she saw a man step directly in Thor's path. Before she could even think, Jeffrey wrenched the reins out of her hands and yanked them to the right, which resulted in Thor giving a single toss of his head right before he came to an immediate stop.

Felicia winced. “Oh dear, that was not well done of you. You've insulted poor Thor most grievously, and I doubt we'll be able to prod him into motion anytime in the foreseeable future.”

“I wouldn't have had to do anything if you'd been paying attention. Really, Felicia, what could you have been thinking, closing your eyes while in the midst of driving? It wasn't the appropriate time to take a little snooze. And as for insulting Thor, I did no such thing.”

“I wasn't sleeping, I was praying, and you insulted Thor by taking the reins. He only lets me drive him.”

Jeffrey let out a grunt. “While I am not opposed to prayers, you might want to reconsider praying in the middle of a street while you're trying to drive. I'm not sure God will look too kindly on you running people over willy-nilly, even if you've done so because you were deep in prayer.”

“Hmm, you might have just a wee bit of a point.” Felicia reached over and took back the reins, gave them a wiggle, and then sighed when the wiggle did absolutely nothing to coerce Thor back into motion. “He's definitely annoyed.”

Thor tossed his head as if he were in full agreement and then pawed an ancient hoof against the street.

“You'll have to apologize to him if you ever want to get him moving again.”

“I most certainly will not. I did absolutely nothing worthy of an apology.”

“Then prepare yourself for a long wait.”

Jeffrey considered her for a moment, then turned his attention to Thor. “Sorry.”

Thor tossed his head again but remained stubbornly still.

“You'll have to do better than that. Maybe you should get out and croon to him a bit, or you could try whistling in his ear. He loves that.”

“I should have ridden home with Mother,” Jeffrey muttered before he jumped off the seat, moved to Thor's head, and began crooning a bit of nonsense into the pony's ear.

“What is he doing?”

Felicia jumped in her seat, lifted a hand to her chest, and then raised her head to meet the gaze of the ferocious-looking guard Theodore had insisted accompany her home. “Good heavens, sir, you scared me half to death.”

The guard didn't so much as blink or acknowledge that she'd even spoken. “You need to get out of the middle of the street. You're beginning to attract attention.”

“That's a lovely suggestion, to be sure, but Thor has other ideas.” Felicia summoned up a smile. “Perhaps you have an idea as to how to get my pony moving, Mr. . . . er . . . ?”

“Blackheart.”

“Is that really your name or is it one you've assumed to lend credence to your frightening demeanor?”

“Do you really think now is the appropriate time for idle chitchat, especially since it appears Mr. Blackheart is in no mood to appreciate your odd sense of humor?” Jeffrey asked as he moved from Thor's head and climbed back into the cart.

“I must beg your pardon, Mr. Blackheart. I realize you've been given the daunting task of watching out for my sister—not that I claim to even understand why that's necessary—but I'm afraid we have no control over this animal at the moment, or ever, for that matter. Because of that, I'm afraid we're going to draw unwanted attention for some time to come, unless we can figure out a way to get the decrepit beast moving.”

Mr. Blackheart, not speaking a single word, edged his horse up beside Thor. He leaned over, slapped Thor soundly on the behind, and ignoring Felicia's sputters of outrage, eased his horse to the side. Thor let out a snort and jerked forward, his short little legs moving at a remarkably fast clip.

“Just wait until I get ahold of Theodore,” Felicia said as she tightened her grip on the reins. “What could he have been thinking, assigning me such an unpleasant chap? Poor Thor will require weeks of rest and special oats to get over this trauma.”

“Thor will be fine, as you very well know, but since he is almost moving at what some might call a gallop, I do believe we'll reach our destination sooner than I anticipated. Perhaps it would be prudent, before we meet up with Mother again, if you could explain to me a few things, such as why you've been given your own personal guard.”

“I don't really know.”

“Should I assume it has something to do with that brawl in the pub? Are Theodore and Grayson afraid you attracted someone's interest there and are simply being cautious regarding your welfare?”

“Well, I definitely attracted interest from quite a few gentlemen in that pub, but considering Grayson dispatched all of them, except for the one I hit over the head, I hardly think it's likely any of them were physically capable of following me off Mott Street.” She blew out a breath. “I think I've been assigned the guard because of the Chinese men who came into the pub after Grayson had finished the fight.”

“You've lost me. What do Chinese men and Grayson Sumner have in common?”

“Far too much from what little I've been able to understand.”

Jeffrey shifted on the seat. “I'd forgotten he's recently returned from China. It almost sounds as if . . .”

“His past was somewhat disturbing?” Felicia finished for him.

“Exactly. I doubt we'll be able to sufficiently puzzle the mess out though, considering the limited facts we've been given. I'll try to track Theodore down later on today or tomorrow and see if he'll be able to explain matters to satisfaction, but until then, let me return to you.”