Chapter Three

“F elton, did you hear me?”

At his mother’s irritated tone, Felton set his half-eaten toast back on his plate and directed his gaze toward her. What had she been going on about again? So lost in his musings over the quandary of Lady Dorothea, he hadn’t paid that much attention. “Of course I heard you. I was just waiting for you to be more specific.”

His mother widened her eyes incredulously, which unfortunately made them the largest feature of her face, giving her a bird-like appearance. “What more specificity do you need beyond asking for your presence at our house party starting next weekend at Sunnydale?”

Just when he’d thought the tedious season was over, it appeared he must endure one more fete. “As you know, I have much to attend to at Denton Hall. What days in particular do you require my presence?”

“All of them.” His mother’s words came out in an angry huff. “Whatever business you need to accomplish, do so at another time. To ease your mind, it is only a fortnight and the guest list is quite selective. I even included Lord Sommerset to keep you from being a bear. Your support of your sister will be much appreciated.”

He glanced at Rose, who sat across from him as they broke their fast. Her cheeks colored prettily.

“Need me for more introductions, do you?”

Despite her embarrassment over being the sole reason for the party, she stuck her tongue out at him like she had when she was just a child.

He chuckled. “Very well. I shall do all in my power to set you on a pedestal before my peers. Just try not to drool.”

He turned to his mother just as a napkin hit his chest. He glanced sideways at Rose, letting her know with a look that he’d be returning the favor at another time. “Mother, it will be an honor to advance my sister’s marriage prospects. Do you have a list of those who have accepted the invitations? I still have a sennight to make the acquaintance of those I may not know yet.”

His mother put down her cup of cocoa and patted at her lips with her own napkin before replying. “There may be one or two on the list with whom you are not as familiar, but it is difficult to know who is a member of your club and who is not.” The censure was clear in her tone. She had no use of gentlemen’s clubs, assuming they were like the gaming hells of London. He was quite sure his father, who was unusually absent this morning, had made it seem so on purpose, and he had no intention of enlightening her.

His mother rose. “I will retrieve the list from the parlor desk. The keys are in your father’s study.”

As soon as she left the dining room, a scone bounced off his cheek. “Damnation.”

Rose slapped her hand on the table. “‘Drool’? Truly? You can be such a bore.”

“And you, sister, can be such a child.”

She grinned even as she lifted another scone from her plate. “It’s my prerogative as the youngest.”

He held both hands out in front of him to defend himself from the missile about to be thrown. “I appreciate your position, but I don’t think Raleigh will enjoy cleaning my waistcoat…again.”

“Very well.” Setting the scone back on her plate, she sighed. “I wish Mother weren’t holding this party. I know she means well, but ever since Father said I could attend the Belinda School for Curious Ladies if I have no proposal by the end of the season, she has been almost desperate to see me proposed to.”

He stiffened as dread filled him. “Father cannot allow that.” They couldn’t let Rose attend the Belinda School, especially when he hadn’t created a plan yet to make the ladies there sought after.

“I know. To be sure, I don’t think he’d accept a proposal at this late date, anyway. Thank you for seeing my dilemma. There is always next season. Maybe then, after a term at the school, I will have something of interest to convey in a conversation. We all know I’m quite boring.”

He’d been about to exact a promise from her to refuse to go, but her words had him snapping his mouth shut. What he should do is reassure her that her conversation was engaging, but that would be an outright lie. He loved his sister dearly, but he never lied to her. Instead, he focused on the school. “Are you sure the school will enhance your chances for a proposal? Only one of their students has married.”

She shrugged. “I was hoping you’d have a better perspective on that. I’ve come to know a few of the ladies from there over this past season and enjoy their company very much. They have so much to say that is quite interesting and hardly any of it is gossip.” She sighed. “I’ve learned everything Mother has taught me and she states that I am proficient, so I’m not sure what else I should do. Could it be my appearance?”

His jaw tightened that his sister could think herself anything but beautiful. With her fashionable blue eyes and chestnut hair, she stood out from many. He waved his hand dismissively. “You are perfect on that account. No need to worry. You are obviously sought after. How many times did you speak to a gentleman at the Stocktons’ ball the other night?”

She blushed once again. “I believe is was eight.”

“Ah, then there are at least eight men interested in better making your acquaintance. Perhaps one of them will be calling on you today.”

“One has already spoken to me today.” Her lips quirked up on one side.

“What?” He glanced at the clock. It was not yet noon. “Who would dare?”

Her smug expression gave her away before she could answer.

He shook his head. “You cannot count me as one of the eight. Still, seven is respectable.”

“I suppose.” Her shoulders slumped. “But I do not expect any callers today. I simply have nothing to say to my dance partners. I’m quite sure if I learned about something, anything besides how to stitch a hem or arrange seatings at dinner, I could become interesting enough to pursue.”

It had never occurred to him that a man might want a woman who was interesting. Having already loved the best woman to walk the Earth, he had since planned on finding a woman very much like his sister for that inevitable day when he must marry and produce an heir. At a score and six, he still had years before contemplating such an arrangement. Not even mildly interested in considering such an event at the moment, he turned his attention to his sister’s reasoning. “What subject would you be most interested in pursuing? Sommerset tells me each student decides upon a particular field of study.”

His sister sat straighter and her eyes lit with excitement. “I don’t know. But I’m to understand that my first year will be in all the general studies, an introduction, so to speak, on each of the many possibilities. Lady Mabry said that even if there was a subject not investigated the first year that excited me, I could find another that made my heart beat faster.”

“She was referring to a topic and not a man, correct?”

Rose narrowed her round blue eyes at him. “Yes. I spoke to her before she left for the Continent when she was Lady Elsbeth Rawley. She said that geology makes her heart skip a beat and that I would know what I was most interested in when I stumbled upon it.”

“As she finds rocks of interest, I can see why she would stumble.” He smirked, pleased with his wit.

A scone hit him on his nose before bouncing onto the table. “You little minx.” He lifted a honey cake from the platter on the table, fully planning to fire it off at his sister, when his mother entered.

“Felton, I thought you disliked honey cake immensely.”

He placed the offending cake on his plate. “I thought to confirm my dislike of it.”

His mother’s brow furrowed, but rather than ask the obvious, she handed him a piece of paper. “Here are the guests who have accepted the invitation. If you wish to add any, please let me know today, and I’ll have invitations delivered post-haste. Many people have already started leaving the city, though.”

He took the proffered paper and began reading it.

“While you peruse that, I must have a word with the butler. Do find me when you are finished here.” Without waiting for his agreement, his mother bustled out of the room, already thinking about her next task, no doubt.

“You wish to confirm your dislike? Truly?” Rose grinned at him, the twinkle in her eyes very becoming.

Could her lack of suitors truly be due to her lack of knowledge? He looked down at the guest list and shook his head. That made no sense.

“Is there someone on the guest list you don’t like, then?”

He lifted his gaze to hers once again. “Not, not specifically. A few chaps are a bit boring and one not someone I would suggest, but as long as they can dance and play pall-mall, they should do.” He’d talk to his mother privately about not inviting Viscount Leighhall. He studied the list again. There were some ladies missing, and one in particular who could aid him in his quest to make Belinda’s school a success. “I don’t see any of the ladies from the school you hope to attend. Do you not wish them here?”

“What?” She held her hand out, an unspoken demand for the list.

He let her have it.

Her brows lowered in consternation. “Do you think Mother left them off the list purposefully?”

He did, based on what she’d told him. “I cannot say what is in our mother’s head. However, if you tell me who else should be invited, I’d be happy to relay that to Mother.” He lowered his voice. “She does listen to me so much better than she does you.”

“Brother, you best behave or I’ll box your ears.”

He chuckled. “I don’t doubt you would. So whom would you like to add?”

Rose set her chin upon her knuckles. “Lady Mabry said the Stockton ball was her last event this season, as she is moving into the dowager house on the grounds of the school. Lady Eleanor’s mother has them visiting her sister this month, and I know Lady Sophie won’t attend anything without the others.”

He wanted to suggest Lady Dorothea, but Rose needed to think of her first. “Are those the only students you know?”

She stared down at the table as if the pattern in the platter that had held the scones could help her. “I’ve only just met Lady Georgina and Lady Dorothea, so I’m not sure if they would attend.”

“The only way to discover if they are interested is to send them an invitation.”

She moved her hand from beneath her chin and took his. “You are correct. Thank you for helping me. I don’t care what the ladies say about you. They don’t know you as I do.” She let go and grinned like a cat who had just swallowed a mouse.

“What do they say about me?” Not that he cared, but he could see she was quite excited to tell him.

She rose, still grinning. “Only that you are far too serious and if you tried to smile, you would shatter into myriad pieces like a broken mirror.”

He stifled a chuckle, not wishing her to know how much he enjoyed having such a reputation. “Myriad pieces? Not a hundred, or perhaps triangular pieces?”

Evidently put out that her attempt to deflate him had missed its mark, she pouted prettily. “Yes, myriad. Truly, you are quite lucky I am your sister.”

When he simply raised his brows in question, she gave a heartfelt sigh and rose.

“Because, my dear brother, no other woman would have the patience for you.” Then as quick as a sparrow, she threw half a brioche bun she must have been hiding in her skirts, hitting him square on his left cheek. As she raced for the door, she laughed. “Don’t forget our shopping trip.”

And with that, the little urchin disappeared.

Wiping the crumbs from his face, he tried to remember a time when she hadn’t thrown food at him. Though it was not a regular occurrence, it was a longstanding one. If he didn’t miss his guess, it began while she’d still been in napkins. He’d think a woman in her twenties would have grown out of such a deplorable habit, but he recognized it for what it was. It was her only defense against his superior intellect.

He set the dirty napkin on the table and rose. That did beg the question as to whether the Belinda School could indeed help stimulate her mind. Though Rose was sweeter than honey, her observational capabilities into human behavior were sorely lacking, as had been made painfully obvious last year when she’d brought home the widow Lady Garmoyle for the holidays.

He shivered at the memory. How could a woman like that engender a proposal and his own sweet sister not. He’d always felt protective of Rose, but now with his mother’s and father’s agendas for her in conflict, he needed to fully focus on what was best for her. Her wish was to go to the damn school, and as much as he didn’t care for that idea, it could, possibly, aid her, especially if he could find a way to make those ladies popular.

He strolled through the archway to the parlor before slowing to glance toward the ceiling. “My dear Belinda. By opening my heart, you have set me on a course I have no inkling how to navigate.”