Lord Grenville's Choice (9 page)

His overpowering presence had swayed her. Lying alone in her bed, she missed him clear through to her soul. During the day, they had always been polite and courteous to one another. But night had been different. Daytime facades had dropped away as they moved and caressed and became part of one another. And they had sometimes, if rarely, spoken from their hearts about things that mattered to them.

Exhaustion from her sleeplessness the night before finally claimed her, but she dreamt of Alex.

*~*~*

As Felicity was straightening out the detritus on Papa’s beside table while chattering to him about Alex’s plans to buy Jack a pony and cart, she came upon the
Morning Post
from the previous day. It was opened to the gossip column. Curiosity piqued, she stopped talking and ran her eye down the page until she came to the item that could only refer to her behavior at the Frensham ball.

It was as though she had been punched in the stomach. How humiliating! Anabella’s spite had landed her in the gossip column. Lying open as the newspaper was, she was certain Alex had seen it and had only to question his sister as to the cause of the incident. Would Anabella tell him the truth? Or would she make up a lie and cause further mischief?

Why did Alex’s sister dislike her so much? Why did the woman continually offer up nasty words that she knew would hurt Felicity? This was not the first time her words had some reference to Elizabeth.

Felicity well remembered her wedding breakfast. When she had been mingling with the crowd of guests at Grenville Manor, Alex’s country seat in Lincolnshire, Anabella had come to her side while Alex was across the room.

“It is a pity that Lord and Lady Beaton were unable to make the trip. Lady Beaton is my particular friend, and you know about her and Alex, of course. Such a shame . . .”

Stunned at her new sister-in-law’s bold cruelty, Felicity had not been able to think of a reply before the lady moved off. It had been an unpromising beginning to what had proven to be a troubled association.

Her thoughts were cut short when Glover announced Dr. Caldwell.

“Good morning, my lady. How does his lordship this morning?”

“He continues to improve, Doctor.” Before the butler could exit, she asked, “Glover, would you be so kind as to ask Mrs. Townsend to have a bouquet of lilac boughs made up for his lordship’s room? Thank you.”

Turning to her father, she said, “I know how you must hate missing the lilacs, Papa. We will bring the garden indoors. Something different every day.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. To her surprise, she felt some strength in his hand as he squeezed back.

“Papa! You are regaining your strength!” Tears starting in her eyes, she leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“What is it?” the doctor asked.

“He squeezed my hand!”

Before the doctor could respond, Alex walked in with Aunt Henrietta. Her husband’s eyes went immediately to her tears. “What is amiss?”

“Nothing!” she said. “Papa’s recovery is continuing. I think he would like to show you. Take his hand, Alex.”

Her heart danced as her husband took her father’s hand. Papa even gave him a smile and said, “Alis.”

Aunt Henrietta beamed upon everyone. “This is indeed a happy event!” Moving forward, she joined Lord Morecombe on the other side of his bed and dropped a kiss on his brow. “Remember, we are leading out at my ball in two months! I am commissioning a devastating gown for the evening, so do not disappoint me.”

He smile became a little broader. “Hen . . .” he said.

“I shall be a bit happier when you do not call me a hen, but that is indeed a start,” she said.

“I think it a charming nickname,” Alex said. “I am pleased to see you doing so much better, my lord. Now, you will forgive me if I must go see Jack. I have promised him an outing to Gunter’s.” Turning to Felicity, he said, “You need a break as well, my dear. Will you not reconsider and come with us?”

Suddenly desirous of nothing so much as a normal excursion with her husband and son, she said, “I think I would like that.” Turning to Dr. Caldwell, she asked, “Have you any instructions for me?”

The physician said, “Just continue the jellied broth and custard. His lordship is obviously gaining strength. I am very pleased.”

“Aunt Henrietta? You will stay with Papa until I return?”

“Yes. Of course I will. I have a headful of
on dits
to share with your papa.”

*~*~*

It was a brilliant day for an outing. The sky was a clear blue with only a few clouds, and even the sun had a warmth unusual for a spring day. Jack was in tearing spirits as he leaned out the carriage window to see the sights.

“That woman has a very silly hat,” he proclaimed, pointing at Lady Sedgewick-Bolls, who was walking across the street.

Felicity pulled his arm down, and said, “It is rude to point. No doubt the lady thinks a fruit bowl on her head is quite the height of style.” She stifled a smile.

“I am very glad your father is improving,” Alex said. “That is excellent news. Not only for him, but for me. I shall soon have my family home again.”

Would Alex really be so anxious for me to come home if he were bent on conducting a love affair with Elizabeth? Perhaps not. But then, it may just be Jack he misses
.

Their visit to the confectionery was a great success. Jack was enchanted with his first ice. Alex was in a merry, teasing mood, and Felicity felt optimistic.

Obviously anxious to extend his time outside the nursery, Jack convinced his parents to take him for a walk in Green Park. “I need to check on the duckies,” he told them.

As they walked through the park, admiring the new spring green, Alex tucked Felicity’s hand through his arm as Jack skipped on ahead.

“I want you to know, my dear, that I enjoyed our waltz very much the other night. How has it come about that it has been such a long time since we have danced?”

“There are a number of reasons, I expect,” said Felicity, thinking it unwise to be more specific when such a course would bring discord to the lovely morning.

“You know Aunt Henrietta is planning a ball the first weekend in June?”

“So I understand. It is certain to be a lavish affair.”

“Perhaps we shall waltz again, at that time if not sooner,” Alex said, patting the hand that lay in the crook of his arm.

She was just thinking that all might indeed be well in her world when she spotted a dainty figure in black coming in the opposite direction.

Elizabeth
.

Her rival was strolling on the arm of Lady Wentworth, her cousin. Felicity felt her heart drop into her middle. Pulling her hand from her husband’s arm, she said, “Jack is at the pond. I must go to him lest he fall in.”

She strode away on an oblique course, away from the walk and a meeting with Lady Beaton, her heart pounding.

{ 13 }

W
hen Alex spotted Elizabeth walking toward them, it was as though a small cloud passed across his personal sun. An encounter was inevitable. When Felicity pulled away and went after Jack, he felt strangely exposed.

His confusion increased as she approached. Alex bowed.

“Lady Beaton, Lady Wentworth. I bid you good morning. My family and I have come to examine the well-being of the ducks.”

Then he saw Elizabeth’s eyes full of pain, and long-ago memories emerged, flooding his heart with the desire to protect.

“I believe I must satisfy myself on the health of the ducks, as well,” said Lady Wentworth, leaving her companion.

“What is amiss, Elizabeth?” he said in a low voice.

Bowing her head so that he could not see the face under the bonnet, she said, “It is nothing that time will not repair.”

“You are mourning that man?” he asked, surprised.

Her voice was small and soft. “No. I am mourning what could have been. Seeing you with your family is a blow.”

Putting his hands behind his back so that he could not reach for hers, he said, “You have never met my boy, Jack.”

“No.” She looked up, and her eyes were full of tears.

It took all his self-control not to wipe those tears away. Instead, he extended his handkerchief. She took it from him and daintily wiped her eyes.

“He is a fine son. Four years old now.”

“We could have had such a son,” she said.

Confound it! What was he supposed to say?

“Your father had other ideas.”

“Oh, Alex! I have missed you so! You have no idea what my life has been like.”

“I am sorrier than I can tell you. I would not have you so unhappy for any reason.”

Unable to help himself, he finally took her tiny trembling hands in his. She gazed into his eyes, squeezing his hands.

Then, she cried, “You know my heart will always be yours.” Pulling back and holding the handkerchief to her eyes, she ran down the path, away from him.

Chagrined, he stood watching as Lady Wentworth joined Elizabeth and they walked off back the way they came. Her unhappiness pained him and left him feeling helpless and confused.

Turning to rejoin his wife and son, he saw that they were walking in the direction of the gate. The devil! Now there would be a scene with Felicity. Or even worse, there would be no scene. Just her withdrawal.

He had to admit that from afar, the charade he and Elizabeth had played out could look like something very different—perhaps like he was importuning her, and she had run away from him. Alex stood in the center of the walk, suddenly irritated with both women for his ambiguous feelings and situation. His earlier sense of well-being had vanished. Figuratively throwing up his hands, he decided there was only one thing to be done. Go to his club for lunch.

There he found Winton reading the racing sheets.

His friend greeted him and said, “Think I shall tool down to Leicester for a few days. Racing meet. Stallion—Emperor’s Joy—will be running. Want to look him over. Need a good stud for my mares. Care to join me, Grenville?”

“Winton, you are my savior. That sounds like just the thing. Too many women in my house.”

“When can you be ready?”

“After luncheon, I’ll pack a few things. Want to take my carriage?”

“I think I’d enjoy riding down better.”

“Sounds a splendid idea. Orpheus needs a long outing. He and I have been confined to London for too long.”

*~*~*

Feeling somewhat cowardly, Alex wrote a short note to Felicity, advising her of his plans, and left it folded on the table in the vestibule. He asked Norse to have it delivered to Lady Grenville at Morecombe House. Bidding farewell to his aunt and sister, who were perusing fashion plates, he was off with Winton to enjoy purely masculine pursuits. He told himself that he needed distance from all women at this point. Perhaps his confusion would clear if he saw the situation from a distance.

During his three-day ride, Alex had plenty of time to think. At first, he put the whole Elizabeth coil out of his head. It made him uncomfortable.

Soon, however, it came thundering back, bringing with it a headache. What did she expect of him? The sight of him with Felicity and Jack had brought her to tears. Elizabeth obviously wanted to be his wife and the mother of his children. Well, it was far too late for that. And if that was the direction her thoughts were leading, there was not a thing he could do to erase that sadness from her eyes. And he wanted to. He really could not bear to see her so distressed.

Though at one time he had considered making Elizabeth his mistress, the longer he rode, the more he realized that he was less and less inclined toward the idea. It was what the fashionable world expected. It was even what Felicity expected. That last fact rankled, but after his behavior at the park—holding Elizabeth’s hands not only in front of his wife, but in a public venue—his wife was probably certain that she was
already
his mistress. And he had not reassured Felicity, had he? No, he had gone dashing out of town without a word.

The fact was he did not like being in this position at all.

{ 14 }

A
t first, Felicity was very glad that Alex did not try to explain away the incident with Elizabeth in the park. It had been such a glorious morning until that moment when the woman had appeared on the path. Felicity had even dared to cherish hopes that there might be many more like it. Alex had seemed so happy in the bosom of his family.

But then
she
had appeared. Elizabeth’s eyes held an appeal that it would have been hard for any man to resist. And she had cried. And he had taken her hands. As though his own wife was not watching. The intimacy between them had been no less painful than a knife thrust.

She had grabbed Jack’s little hand and rushed away because she could not stop her own tears. But Alex had not followed, and Felicity was glad.

However, now her feelings had crashed into earth-shattering devastation. She could scarcely go about her duties. Alex had not appeared at Papa’s house in three days. In all of their marriage, Felicity had not gone so long without seeing her husband.

He has gone to Elizabeth, after all. He cannot face me with the fact.

At the end of the three day period, there seemed no other explanation. Going about her duties, other than seeing to her papa, was impossible. Felicity had never been thus afflicted with sorrow except when her mother had died when she was sixteen. Indeed, she felt she now desperately required a period of mourning. Alex’s going had left a hollowness inside her that had now flooded with pain. There was a poignancy there—what could have been, what almost had been on that magical morning.

Felicity spent hours alone in the room where, her first Season, she had once dreamed of Alex. Of what life could be like if only he could be hers. How different reality had been! He had married her. But he had never been hers.

The third day, alone in the sitting room off her bedroom, she had left papa to his valet while she tried to busy her hands knitting socks for John. But tears blinded her. Finally, she abandoned herself wholly, thinking if she just cried enough, she could get over it and the pain would be gone. But indulging it only made it worse. She tried reason: Of course, it was better this way, she told herself. She did not want him if he had chosen Elizabeth. She would not share Alex.