Lord Grenville's Choice (18 page)

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Authors: G.G. Vandagriff

Tags: #Regency Romance

BOOK: Lord Grenville's Choice
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There were nothing but work horses available in the stable, he was told by the head groom. Alex had no choice but to wait until morning to set out once again on Orpheus.

*~*~*

By the time Alex arrived back in London, his search to find his wife and her party having failed, he was consumed with fatigue. Relieved not to have discovered an accident, he was nevertheless distraught. Where was Felicity?

{ 24 }

 

A
s the sea came into view, signaling the end to their journey, Felicity was so grateful, she nearly wept. It had been a very long six days.

Tywyn House was situated on a hillside overlooking an emerald valley dotted with sheep, the sea close below. Jack scrambled out first, followed be his ever-patient Nanny Owen. The doctor followed, assisting Felicity and her papa.

“This is a lovely spot,” Dr. Caldwell said.

“My grandmother loved the sea. She grew up near here and when she was older, she was not able to travel. She and my grandfather lived in London. My grandfather had this house built as a gift to her. After Grandfather’s death, this is where she lived out her days. My family used to come to visit her here for the summers.”

“It is a lovely Georgian building. Perfect proportions,” the doctor said.

Felicity walked into the house, her father following with the physician’s aid. They were greeted by the housekeeper, Mrs. Lowell.

“What an unexpected surprise!” the woman said. “I shall just set about airing your rooms, your ladyship, your lordship. I have not seen your ladyship since your marriage! You are looking very well, indeed, if I may say so.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lowell. My father has been ill. He is recovering, but it has been a long journey. Perhaps you might make up the ground floor bedroom for him.”

The room she spoke of had been hers when she had visited here as a girl. It had originally been her grandmother’s writing room, but had been made up as a special “little girl’s room” by that lady, as the house lacked a nursery.

“Oh, at once, my lady. I am terribly sorry his lordship has been ill. Soon we will have him feeling right as rain in this sea air.”

Her aunt outlived Felicity’s mother and maintained the property in which she had inherited a one-half ownership. As it was mid-day, and her aunt only employed Mrs. Lowell when he was not in residence, Felicity asked, “Does Mrs. Evans still cook for you when you have guests?”

“Yes,” replied the housekeeper. “I will just be sending her a note, and no doubt she will have tea ready for you in a twinkling.”

Felicity took her father’s arm. He looked exhausted. “Come, Papa. Let us settle you in my old room. It has been a long journey.”

Once her father was settled and Martha was employed unpacking Felicity’s wardrobe, she could no longer resist Jack’s pleadings to visit the seashore. Nanny Owen was busy unpacking and setting up a provisional nursery in the two adjoining rooms that normally made up the master suite.

“Come, darling,” she told her son. “I will show you my secret path. No doubt it is dreadfully overgrown.”

Her path to the sea was now grown over with grass, but she was just able to discover it by the indentation in the hillside. Jack scrambled beside her like a sure-footed goat.

“Oh, Mama, does that sea go all the way to America?”

“Eventually, yes.”

She was very glad she had never brought Alex here. Her memories were, for a little time at least, centered in her childhood and the happy times she had enjoyed here with her cousin Rachel—making forts in the ruins of the old castle, swimming in the sea, constructing elaborate sand castles with the help of their fathers.

Rachel was as yet unmarried, living in Hertfordshire quite near Felicity’s old home. She usually came to London for the Season, but Felicity and Alex had not had her or Aunt and Uncle Hammerford to dinner yet this year. Had they ever spoken about their summers in Wales in Alex’s presence? They must have. Felicity’s heart lurched painfully. What if he remembered?

She tamed her thoughts. Alex would not come looking for her. He was probably only too happy that she was out of the way. Now he could pursue his affair with Elizabeth openly.

At that moment, just as she and Jack were coming out onto the level shore, Felicity felt movement in her swollen abdomen for the first time. Tears came to her eyes as her hair loosened and blew around her face. She remembered when she had first felt life when she was increasing with Jack. Alex had been so thrilled. And later, when the baby’s kicks were more obvious, Alex had lain beside her in bed, his hand on her abdomen, anxiously waiting to feel their child.

*~*~*

Their days quickly settled into a routine. While Jack spent his mornings with Nanny Owen, Felicity and Dr. Caldwell took what came to be their daily walk down on the shore or over the hills. He told her that he was of Welsh descent but had never been to Wales before. They spent their time together discussing the old legends and epic history of the country. Felicity steered conversations away from anything at all personal and wondered, at times openly, when the doctor would be returning to London. He never gave her a satisfactory answer.

When they once again reached Tywyn House, she spent time with her father in the morning room, writing letters for him—communicating with the steward of his estate, his cronies at the Historical Society, and other acquaintances. She herself wrote no letters. She had no desire to discuss her situation with anyone.

Afternoons were spent on the beach with Jack or at the ruined fortifications of the castle where Llewellyn the Great made his last stand against the English. Felicity always carried a parasol to safeguard her skin, but Jack grew very brown. Mrs. Evans always packed tea for them in a basket.

In the evenings, Felicity quite often sang, as Papa loved to listen to her. Other times, the adults played cards. She was constantly fatigued, however, and retired early, though she missed Alex profoundly.

Thus, the nights became a torment. It was then that her thoughts most often strayed to the five years of her marriage and the recent happy times when she had almost come to believe that Alex could love her. Especially difficult were the memories of their last few days together, after her injury, when his attentions had been so marked.

Would things have been different if she had stayed? Would her husband have chosen her over Elizabeth? Had the other woman sensed that his affection for Felicity was growing and decided to make her disclosure to drive her away? On the other hand, could Felicity really have lived with Alex after learning of his five years of deceit?

One morning, after they had been in residence for a week, the doctor interrupted one of her tales of the legendary Owain Glyndwr to say, “Lady Grenville, I must speak to you of something that has been increasingly on my mind.”

Feeling an instinctive dread, she said, “Yes?”

“Forgive me, but I must know. Do you intend to live separated from your husband for the rest of your life?”

Drawing a painful breath, she said, “I intend to do so. Yes.”

As was their custom when they walked, her hand was settled in the crook of his arm. Now he put his other hand over hers and stopped, looking into her eyes. She quailed at the fervent look there, knowing what was coming. She had suspected, even before they had set out from London, that Dr. Caldwell had developed feelings for her.

“Allow me to tell you how very much I admire you. I have been in love with you almost from the first time I met you when we were caring for your father. I saw an uncommon devotion and kindness in your manner.”

“Doctor . . .”

“Please allow me to finish. I have been rehearsing this speech every morning while we have been walking.”

“And I thought you were deeply interested in the history of your ancestors!” she teased.

“I am, of course, but more interested in you.” He gave her a broad smile which she had to admit was quite appealing.

“I may be separated, Doctor, but until either Alex or I die, I will be a married woman.”

“I am aware of that . . . please let me finish, my lady. My feelings for you run very deep. We would be perfect companions, inasmuch as you have so much natural ability in the healing arts. I believe you could be very happy with me. And, of course, I would offer the thing that will be so lacking in your life—a father figure for your children.”

“You are proposing that we live together as a family?” Felicity realized this was no idle affair he was offering. Indeed, he had thought this through. “We would be followed by gossips wherever we went!”

“We could go somewhere else in Wales, where we are not known. I begin to like this country.” Before she could speak, he added, “I know you have been hurt far more deeply by this separation than I can even comprehend. It is a betrayal of the worst sort. You may not think it, but I have studied you, and I know how much you love Lord Grenville. Even now.”

Tears sprang to Felicity’s eyes as she thought of what she had lost. She had not had her husband’s love, but they had Jack together. And Alex had been thrilled with the idea of a new child he would never see. She had obviously thought him far more content than he actually was. How often did he see Elizabeth?

“I do not know if I will ever recover from this, Dr. Caldwell.”

“Please. I am making improper advances.” He tipped her chin back up with a finger. “You must call me Alan.”

“Alan, I am very moved that you care so deeply what happens to me and my family—that you would sacrifice your future for us in this way. The fact is my feelings for you are those I might have for a brother. I do not think I could ever love you any other way.” She placed a hand gently on his lapel. “Also, I know others might not know who we are, but I would know. And Jack would know. I do not wish my children to grow up in such an irregular situation.”

He gave a brief smile but did not seem at all cast down. “I am a patient man. I am willing to wait for a while in the event that your feelings should change,” he said, covering her hand. “Now the breeze has got up. We must get you back inside before you turn to ice.”

Selfishly, Felicity was glad the doctor would stay a bit longer. She did enjoy his company in a thoroughly platonic way. There were not many men who would put her wishes above theirs and consent to such an arrangement. Right now, more than anything, she needed a friend.

Alan began to spend much more time with Jack. Often, he took him on his afternoon outings so that Felicity could rest.

“What are the doctor’s intentions?” her father asked her on one such day.

She said, “We are friends, that is all.”

“No man could be as disinterested as he seems.”

“You are right, Papa. He is hoping for something more. But he is the brother I never had. He is very protective.”

“Is it fair to him to keep him in such a situation?”

“He knows my feelings. It is his decision to stay.”

“I would rather you depended on me, Felicity.”

“You are still recovering your strength. Do not fuss about this. There is no scandal brewing.”

“I will be keeping an eye on the situation, nevertheless.”

Leaning down, she gave her father a kiss. “You still need a man to take you on your walks. Enjoy him while he’s here.”

{ 25 }

 

W
hen faced with the task of searching all of Britain for his wife, Alex initially felt hopeless. However, after two days with very little sleep, he came up with an initial plan. He needed first to find out what direction the party had taken.

The following day, he visited Bow Street and spoke with a Mr. Deacon—a short, thick man with a bulbous red nose, dressed in the traditional red vest worn by the Bow Street Runners. He put his problem before them.

“I would like as many runners as it takes to check the main toll gates out of London. I am seeking to find which direction was taken by my party four nights ago. They were an oddly assorted bunch, and I should think them quite memorable.”

“I will need as detailed a description as you can give me, yer Lordship.”

“There were two coaches, bearing the Morecombe family crest.” Alex drew an approximation of the crest. “The first coach contained my son, a lad of four years, his nanny, my father-in-law, Lord Morecombe—a tall chap with white hair, recently ill—my wife, Lady Grenville—honey-colored hair and eyes, medium height, with a head wound—and their doctor—red-haired young man.”

“They shouldn’t be hard to trace a t’all, your Lordship, if they stuck to the toll roads.”

“I am convinced they would have, if only because the toll roads are slightly better kept than the other roads. My father-in-law is, as I said, recovering from an illness, and my wife had received a head wound at Vauxhall Gardens.”

The runner looked at Alex warily, and he knew he was wondering if Felicity was escaping a violent husband. He decided, however, that anything further he might say would only make him look guiltier. He took an envelope of notes out of his pocket. “What is your customary fee?”

“Twenty pounds up front, your lordship. Ten pounds to the runner who discovers your information.”

It was less than he expected to pay. Alex laid a twenty pound note on the runner’s desk along with his personal card. “I rely on your discretion, as well,” he said.

The runner nodded and tipped his pork pie hat.

Returning home, Alex encountered his aunt and sister at the luncheon table.

“I have done the only thing I could think of to do,” he told them. “I have employed Bow Street to locate the toll road they took. If they took one. Maybe if I know the direction they took, I will be able to think where they might have gone.”

“I wish you luck,” Aunt Henrietta said. “There are so many thousands of villages in this country, it is as though you are looking for one particular fish in the sea.”

“If the runners prove useful, I might put them to work doing a further search to see where the coaches left the toll road.”

“That will still leave you with many alternatives,” Anabella said. She paused, breaking her bread into tiny pieces. Alex recognized this behavior as that of Anabella as a young girl when she expected a scolding. “I have been thinking ever so hard about what might have made Felicity leave, if that still makes a difference to you.”

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