Lord Grenville's Choice (8 page)

“I am well, thank you,” she replied. “Dr. Caldwell has given Papa an excellent report. He is very encouraged with his progress. Papa is speaking a little, and he smiled today.”

“I am glad to hear it. That is excellent news,” he said bracingly. “Jack is in tearing spirits today. I told him we would go to Gunter’s for ices tomorrow. Would you care to join us?”

Felicity would not meet his eyes. “Thank you for the invitation, but I think not.”

Puzzled, he wanted to press her. There had never been any awkwardness between them where Jack was concerned. However, with his aunt and sister present, he decided to say no more for the present.

“Have you told your father about what we discussed last night?”

Felicity brightened. “He was exceedingly pleased. Knowing he is to have another grandchild brought the first smile to his face.”

Alex relaxed a bit and approached his father-in-law’s sick bed. “Aunt Henrietta, you are monopolizing my papa-in-law! Are you taking advantage of the fact that he cannot gainsay you?”

“I am just catching him up on all the news about town,” she said.

“Well, sir, what do you think of
our
news? I believe I am hoping for a little girl.”

He detected the slightest twinkle in the man’s eye.

“Dr. Caldwell has thought of a splendid idea, Alex!” said his sister.

Turning, he fixed his eyes on the physician’s. The man appeared very satisfied about something.

“Your wife has agreed, pending your approval, of course, to start a charitable organization to fund my clinic for wounded soldiers in the East End. Many of the men need crutches . . . you have seen them lying in the street. Others can be fitted with prosthetic legs. Some have been sent home with festering wounds in dirty bandages . . .”

Alex turned to his wife, somewhat surprised. “You feel fit enough to do this work while you are in your present circumstances?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding brisk. “It will be an ideal occupation for me. I can roll bandages and your Aunt Henrietta has promised to read hair-raising Gothic tales to me and Papa.”

Alex smiled a bit. “But how are you going to raise funds?”

“I shall arrange benefit musical concerts. I and some of my friends shall sing and play the piano.”

“And,” Anabella added, “my duty shall be to grow healing herbs and forage for supplies.”

“I find myself a bit concerned, Felicity, that you are taking too much upon yourself. You have only been nursing your father for a few days, and yet you have lost your color and appear quite exhausted.”

He saw the emotions of stubbornness and anger chase across her white face until it became suffused with color. Alex was aware she was holding herself in check only because of the others in the room, including her father.

The physician said, “Nursing Lord Morecombe is her first priority now, and she
is
a bit tired. I shall insist that she become better rested before she undertakes this new business.”

Alex said with a bite, “I realize you are a physician, but I know my wife slightly better than you do. Felicity, I do not believe you slept well. All this company is wearing you out further.” Turning to the others, he said, “I propose that you and my sister conclude your visit, Aunt Henrietta. Doctor Caldwell, I am certain you have other patients.” Going to his wife, who was stiff with outrage, he put a gentle arm about her shoulders and said, “My dear, I advise you to return to bed. I shall sit with your papa today.”

His wife’s jaw hardened, but he knew she would not take issue with his high-handedness in front of the physician. Instead, she said, “I will go spend some time with Jack first. I have not seen him since yesterday morning.”

The physician was the first to leave, bowing over Felicity’s hand. He was followed by Anabella and Aunt Henrietta, the last sending him a ferocious frown. His wife left him without a word.

Unfolding the
Morning Post
, he took a seat by Lord Morecombe’s bed and commenced reading aloud to his father-in-law the latest updates from the fighting on the Peninsula. When he turned the page, his eyes fell on the gossip column and he stiffened at what he read,
Society was pleased to greet the Countess of G—- last night at the Frensham Ball, in company with her husband. Her behavior, however, proved to be somewhat mysterious. Upon a short conversation with her sister-in-law, Lady A—-, the countess was seen to lose her happy countenance, and, without speaking to anyone, suddenly left the ballroom, going into the back garden, never to return. Further problems in the House of G—-?

Felicity had left the ball because of something Anabella had said? What could she possibly have said that would have sent Felicity, who up until then had been delighted with the evening, racing out the back door?

The old gentleman beside him said, “Aliz?”

“Oh, pardon me, your lordship. I was wool-gathering.”

He proceeded to read the court news as well as another article decrying the assassination of Perceval. Beside him, Lord Morecombe went to sleep.

Alex folded the newspaper quietly, wondering what devilry his sister had been up to. Whatever she had said was responsible for his wife’s change toward him and what looked to be a disturbed night, as well. Confound it! Why did Anabella dislike Felicity so much?

A short time later, his wife entered the room with his lordship’s valet.

“Hinshaw will sit with Papa for a few minutes, my lord. I would like to speak with you privately.”

“Of course,” Alex replied, rising.

He followed his wife into her father’s sitting room, where she shut the door. Sitting on a straight-backed chair, she folded her hands in her lap. After a moment, she looked straight into his eyes.

“I have come to a decision, Alex. It has been well considered, and I advise you not to try to talk me out of it.”

“That sounds dire.”

“I think it would be best for each of us if we lived separately. I will remain . . .”

“The devil you will!” he exploded, bounding to his feet. “To what do I owe this foolishness? Something my sister said, perhaps?”

“Your sister has never liked me, but that is not the reason. I made up my mind when Elizabeth’s husband died. I know that you love her. I have too much self-respect to live in the same house with a man who is longing to be with another woman.”

“Your wits are clearly addled,” he said. “Nothing whatsoever has changed between Elizabeth and me since her husband’s death.”

“It has been only a few days. I expect that circumstance will change.”

Alex balled his fists. “Your faith in me is touching. Are you imagining that if you leave, I will bring Elizabeth home to our bed?”

She only responded with a small shrug.

“Have you taken into account the gossip this will cause?” He paced the room, possessed of near destructive anger. “And it is not just the adults who will be lampooned. Have you not thought about the legacy you are leaving our children if you raise them in this house without their father? To the devil with your self-respect! Have you thought about them?”

Felicity rose from her chair and walked to the window. She stood with her back to him. For several minutes, neither of them said anything.

What was he supposed to do? Say black was white? That he did not love Elizabeth? It would be a lie. But the idea of Felicity leaving him was unthinkable. Already, in the short time she had been gone, he had missed her. Not only in his bed, but in his home. With his sister and aunt there, everything seemed at sixes and sevens. There were so many small things he missed, such as the secret thrill he received when hearing her practice her songs in the music room. He missed her scent. He missed talking to her about his concerns and about his worries, particularly about John. She had always listened. How many times had they lain in bed together and talked about Jack and all his humorous starts, their plans for his future?

“I do not see how you can think of tearing our family apart like this, Felicity,” he said finally, his voice gentler.

She sighed heavily, but stayed turned away from him. “For the time being, as long as Papa is ill, I have no choice but to be here with him. Perhaps I will reconsider my decision when he is recovered.”

Going to her, he put his hands on her stiffened shoulders and suddenly wondered if he was asking too much and giving nothing in return. But then desire for her flooded him and, lowering his lips to the nape of her neck, he kissed her. “Thank you,” he said.

He would have kissed her again, but she said, “Alex, try not to get yourself in the gossip columns, if at all possible.”

Sighing, he left her standing alone by the window. As he descended the stairs, he had no idea where he was going, but he realized that he was trembling as though he had just shifted a great weight.

A question worked its way through his preoccupation as he found himself walking through the park. Obviously, his wife was expecting him to have a love affair with Elizabeth. It would have been an easy thing for Felicity to demand that he stay away from the woman altogether. To make that the price of mending the rift between them. It was what any other woman would have done. Why had she not?

Was the gossip column really the only thing she worried over? What other people thought? That sounded like a shallow woman who did not love her husband but had only married him for his title. He might have thought that of his wife at one time, early in their marriage. But that way of thinking was not Felicity’s. She simply was not made that way. So why was she all but pushing him into Elizabeth’s arms?

{ 12 }

W
hen the door closed behind her husband, Felicity allowed her posture to relax. Thank heavens he had not seen her tears. Wiping them away, she stood still at the window, looking down into Papa’s garden below. The lilac was in full bloom, she noted absently.

Alex kissed me. It is full daylight out. We are not even in our own house and he kissed me. What does it mean?

How long she had waited for some sign of affection from him when they were not alone in their bedroom in the dark? She had thought the waltz at the ball had been the start of things. His eyes had looked softly into hers, lit by the knowledge of the new child they were to have. But then Anabella had ruined that illusion.

Felicity was more confused the longer she thought about Alex’s moment of affection. Why had she cut it off so abruptly, returning his thoughts to Elizabeth? Why had she verbally pushed him away?

I want him to choose. I want him to make a definite choice between Elizabeth and me. And I am terribly afraid he is going to choose her. Why would he not?

She was doing her best to force the issue. But he had talked her around. When Papa no longer needed her, she was to think again about returning home. But she had no intention of sharing Alex with Elizabeth.

Her emotions were in such turmoil, she knew there was only one place she could find solace. She climbed the stairs to the nursery.

“Jack-jack!” she cried, kneeling down and extending her arms. He rushed to her.

“I have missed you, Mama.”

“I am sorry. What did you and your papa do today?”

“He took me riding in his phaeton! It was smashing! I was up so high, but he kept an arm around me so I wouldn’t fall.”

“I am very glad to hear it! Did he drive his bays?”

“Yes! I asked him when he was going to teach me to drive, and do you know what he told me?”

“I cannot possibly guess.”

“This summer when we go to the country, he is going to buy me a pony and a cart. Papa is going to teach me to ride! And if I am very good at it, he promised to teach me to drive the cart.”

Jack’s ecstasy confirmed what Felicity had known in her heart. She could not separate this little one she loved so much from his father. Certainly not just to spare her own feelings.

How was she going to protect herself from hurt? While she played a game of spillikins on the floor with her son, she rallied her courage. There was really no answer. She could only ameliorate it somewhat by keeping herself busy with Dr. Caldwell’s charity.

After telling Jack she would join him in the nursery for dinner, Felicity descended to Papa’s room. She spent the afternoon reading to him from a monograph titled
The Battle of Trafalgar
sent to him by a fellow member of the historical society that he frequented. He dozed on and off, but while he was awake, she was encouraged by his alertness. Cook had made him custard, which he seemed to enjoy. She missed his conversation but was beginning to ask him yes and no questions. He responded slowly but definitely. Felicity was encouraged.

During the times he dozed, she studied her calendar and her address book, planning the best time for her benefit musicale and assembling a program. Tomorrow, she would write to two fellow vocalists, inviting them to participate. They would decide on a date. It must be soon. Dr. Caldwell needed his supplies. They would not be terribly expensive, but he needed volunteers to roll the bandages as soon as possible. She would introduce him at the fete during an intermission in the singing. Felicity was certain he would make a good impression. While people were taking refreshments, she and Aunt Henrietta would occupy a table where people could pledge to volunteer and donate. They could also ask what questions they might have of Dr. Caldwell.

But should she hold it here at her father’s house? Or at home? Felicity considered the matter carefully, and finally decided that it would create less unnecessary gossip if she held the benefit at Grenville House. Should she ask Alex to host it? Thinking it over, she determined that inasmuch as Alex had never been a part of her musical circle, it would not cause unnecessary talk if she were to hostess the event herself.

These decisions made, she dined with Jack, read to him from his knight book, settled Papa with Nurse Collins for the night, and retired to her bedroom. Trying to focus on a set of reviews of new publications currently being read by her literary society, Felicity’s mind, now freed of daily minutiae, refused to focus. Again and again, it returned to her difficult discussion with Alex.