Chapter 13

"You seem nervous," Phoebe giggled.

"Well, I am not. So, I do not know what you are speaking of," Felicity responded, her tone short and sharp.

"Are you sure about that?"

Felicity pulled her attention from the carriage window and fixed it on her sister. A raised eyebrow. A warning look. "What is it that you are trying to say?"

"Me? Nothing." Phoebe pushed her lips together to keep herself from smiling. "Merely making an observation."

"Well, make it quietly. To yourself, would be best." She raised that eyebrow further and her sister delighted in it. Thankfully, however, she took heed of the warning and stayed silent, allowing Felicity to go back to staring out the window.

Not that she couldn't feel Phoebe watching her the whole while. Not that she didn't know what that look implied. It was the same one that Phoebe had been giving her ever since their walk through the park two days ago, a sense that she could see right through her sister and read her mind. As if she knew what her sister refused to admit... that she was excited to see His Grace tonight.

Oh, how she hated the fact.

Yesterday, His Grace had been thoroughly found out. When Lady Beatrice had interrupted them, the way he had dropped her hand and dismissed her as if she was nothing was proof enough of what Felicity suspected all along. That he was still a rake, constantly vying for the affections of any woman willing to give them, and worried that being seen with her would ruin his future chances. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only.

Surely not a problem. Surely, that was what she had expected, even wanted? Yet the excitement that swirled within her suggested that what Felicity wanted had changed since she'd first agreed to this arrangement... and that maybe, possibly, she had misread His Grace's actions.

"You look lovely, by the way," Phoebe added, a light giggle to her tone. "Truly, you do."

"Thank you..." Felicity said, bracing herself for what would come next.

"I am sure His Grace will love it."

Felicity suppressed a groan while ignoring the way her stomach twisted further as she wondered, even hoped if what her sister said might be true.

Tonight was to be their second time spent in public together, a trip to the theatre, again with her sister and Lord Moore. It felt safe that way, as if the happy couple provided them with a buffer. But a buffer for what? It shouldn't have been needed! Yet when Felicity reminded herself of that, she could not help but remember how the Duke's hand had felt wrapped in her own and how much it had stung when she'd pictured the Duke with Lady Beatrice of all people.

Urgh, who was she, and what had she become?

"Here we are!" Phoebe said suddenly, grabbing Felicity across the carriage.

"What? Already?" Felicity started, so taken with her thoughts that the trip had flown by in an instant. A moment of panic ensued as she double-checked her dress and made sure she was ready, hating the fact that she cared yet unable to stop herself.

"Oh! There they are!" Phoebe cried with delight, pointing outside the carriage window as it came to a steady stop.

Felicity's heart rose as she looked out the window, only to drop like a stone when she saw Lord Moore, His Grace... and Lady Beatrice. All three of them stood together, talking as if they were old friends. Only, it was so much more than that.

The moment the carriage pulled over and Lord Moore spotted it, he separated himself, eyes lighting up because he recognized his future wife through the window. But His Grace stayed with Lady Beatrice. She had her hand on his arm, giggling over something he said, even laughing along and barely seeming to notice as the carriage pulled over and Felicity stepped out.

His Grace looked up and spotted her, he smiled, seemingly caught by surprise at the sight of her, and she fixed him with such a glare that the ground beneath her seemed to catch fire.

"Lady Felicity..." There was a look on his face that she couldn't quite read. In any other instance, she might have mistaken it for his marveling at her beauty – for she looked splendid in her ruby-colored gown, she knew. "You look... wow."

"Your Grace..." Lady Beatrice gave his arm a squeeze. "I will see you later."

"What?" He looked at Lady Beatrice. "Oh, yes. Of course."

"Lovely to speak with you." She gave his arm a squeeze, flashed a triumphant smile at Felicity, and dissolved into the crowd of people gathered about the theatre.

There was no other way to describe it. Felicity saw red.

"Just in case you did not hear me..." The Duke swept toward her, his smile earnest, his stare enchanted as he cast it over her body. "You look beyond comprehension." He reached her, leaned in, and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"So, you noticed, did you?" She didn't so much as look at him.

"Was I not supposed to?" he chuckled awkwardly as if waiting for her to make a joke he knew wasn't coming.

"I thought you might have been busy." She snapped her head about and raised a cold eyebrow at him. "Truly, I am surprised you even noticed that I arrived."

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying. His brow tightened as he considered... and then his face dropped. "Really? Because of Lady Beatrice, just now?"

"I never said that."

"You do not honestly blame me for speaking with her? You know what she is like."

"Did I say I blamed you?"

"You're clearly angry about it."

"I am clearly not," she lied. "And I am sorry if I do not croon because you complimented me on my dress. Really, it is the least you could do."

Well, that was that. Two days spent convincing herself that she did not care about His Grace's affections. Yet the moment she saw him with Lady Beatrice, all the hard work she had put into these lies became unraveled like a dropped ball of twine. This arrangement, this marriage of convenience, was supposed to be her ticket to freedom and yet she felt trapped in a way she never had before.

The Duke was a no-good rake. He was using her for his own gains. She knew that now, accepted it as fact, but could not get past how much it stung. For the briefest of moments, Felicity had wondered if maybe he was different from what she had heard, that all the rumors about him were heresy and nothing more. It seemed that, for once, the gossip was correct.

"We should be heading inside," Lord Moore interrupted. "Before the masses begin to surge."

"We will meet you in there," the Duke said as he looked coldly at Felicity. "I need a private word with Lady Felicity."

"No, you don't." Felicity attempted to step around His Grace.

"Yes, I do." He took her roughly by the arm, the look in his eyes rueful. There was a fire behind them, an anger she did not know him capable of. Felicity had crossed the line, she realized. And she also did not care.

"Fine," she sighed and then found her sister. "We will be right behind you."

Her sister looked worried but succumbed to Lord Moore leading her away. And then, alone, still holding her by the arm, His Grace practically dragged her from the street, through the crowd, and toward an alley that ran beside the theatre.

She had no right to be angry with the Duke. He had done nothing wrong. She was the one who had dared to let emotions and feelings become involved. But now that her eyes had been properly opened, Felicity decided that from here on out, this arrangement would be business only. That was all it ever could be.

And from the way the Duke pulled her after him, he was of the exact same mind. Likely, after the way she had just behaved, he would cancel this faux courtship altogether.

Strangely, sadly, almost predictably, by this point, this thought had Felicity's stomach twisting such that she thought she might be sick. Why did she even care? A question with an obvious answer that she was too stubborn to admit to. It was lucky that Felicity was used to being alone, a theme in her life that looked set to continue.