Eight

Felicity, where are you?" Jane Fairchild called from over the second-story balustrade. "Will you please come upstairs and help me turn your grandfather so I can tend his bedsores?"

Ensconced in the downstairs parlor with a leather-bound volume of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Felicity Fairchild wrinkled her nose in sharp repugnance as she turned another page. The last thing she wanted to do today, or, for that matter, any day, was assist in such a revolting task, especially when it entailed being a nursemaid to a dawdling old fool! Jane Fairchild may well have had that mission in mind for herself when she begged her husband to resign his position at the counting house where he had worked for more than a score of years, but such chores were hardly what her daughter had resolved to do.

Thus far, the only redemptive advantage for moving to a backward town like Bradford on Avon had been her introduction to Lord Randwulf. Her father had been greatly buoyed by the news of their meeting and had eagerly repeated his prediction that she'd marry an aristocrat one day and have wealth in abundant measure. Her mother had long deemed such talk beyond reasonable expectation, considering their own less thannoble status, but it was exactly the reason Jarvis Fairchild had acquiesced to his wife's plea to make the move to the Wiltshire town, for it was in this very area he expected his daughter to capture the interest of a certain aristocrat. While on an errand for his previous employer in London some months back, he had overheard two men of consequence expressing some hope that an unattached nobleman would soon be acquiring a marquessate near the miller's town and, along with it, enough wealth to dispense with the notes of indebtedness each of them held. In view of the fact that his daughter turned the heads of nearly every gentleman she passed, Jarvis had foreseen great opportunity to be found in the area.

Slamming the open book down on a nearby table, Felicity muttered peevishly about her mother's penchant to interrupt her reading. With such an irksome chore looming ahead of her, she could no longer concentrate. Vexed and restless now, she catapulted herself from the chair and stalked to the parlor door from whence she stuck her tongue out toward the upper level.

Of course, by then, Felicity deemed herself safe, since her mother had returned to the elderly miller's bedchamber. Jane smiled at her parent and fondly patted his arm.

"Don't bother yurself ‘bout me, Jane," Samuel Gladstone gently rumbled from his bed. "Yu've done enough as ‘tis. See ta yur family."

"You are family, Papa, and it gives me the greatest pleasure to care for you with the same loving tenderness you once bestowed upon Mama when she was gravely ill. Never have I seen a man more dedicated to his wife than you were to Mama."

Samuel forced a grin in spite of the gathering thickness in his throat. "Ah, there was a woman who could touch a man's heart. At times, dearest Jane, I see a glimpse of her in you."

His daughter heaved a forlorn sigh. "I don't seem to have quite the same knack for touching hearts as she did, Papa."

"Oh, yu've got it all right," he reassured her. "The problem yu're facin' lies wit' the sluggishness o' the hearts yu're tryin' ta awake. Mayhap in time they'll respond ta yur winsomeways. Meantime, girl, take courage. Yur deeds are honorable an' true. They'll stand as a testament ta yur character long aftah yu leave this world, jes' like yur mother's deeds have done throughout these many years since her passing."

Having received no further directive from upstairs, Felicity tossed her head with a flippant air as she strode to the front windows overlooking the cobblestone lane that made a meandering descent through the town after curving past the uppermost hill whereon sat the three-story Cotswold manse. In the distance, she could see the ruins of a medieval church with its lofty steeple and, farther on, the bridge that traversed the River Avon and upon which sat a medieval chapel, ofttimes used as a prison or a blind house. Longingly her gaze flitted along the cobbled streets of the area where the shops were located in search of a gallant gentleman who, if she were indeed fortunate, would present himself at her grandfather's stoop and salvage what was left of her day.

Hurrying footsteps, approaching from down the hall, promptly set to flight such wishful yearnings, giving Felicity immediate cause to reflect upon the folly of her defiance. She tried to brace herself for the ordeal of facing her mother, who had a way of recompensing disobedience and feeble excuses in a most effective fashion. In the short time they had been living at Stanover House, Felicity had come to realize her mother had gotten many of her ideas on integrity, hard work, and loyalty from her sire and had long ago dedicated herself to instructing her daughter in the manner in which she had been brought up. In most cases, however, Jane's attempts were repeatedly put to naught by Jarvis Fairchild, who considered himself far more astute and knowledgeable about everything in general. Many times he undermined his wife's valiant efforts by openly deploring them, even in their daughter's presence. Now that he was working nearby, he was inclined to return fairly often to the house, sometimes to search through Gladstone's ledgers or to question the elder at length about older workers, who, unbeknownst to his father-in-law, he had begun to lay off. Felicity suffered no uncertainty that she'd besaved forthwith from any chore her mother required of her if her father were to enter in the next moment or two, but as much as she yearned for that event, such timeliness seemed farfetched, even to a dreamer.

The scurrying footfalls advanced down the hall, prompting Felicity to creep hastily toward the door with the hope that she could fool her mother into thinking she had actually been about to respond to her summons. The rushing patter of feet drew near the parlor door and then, much to Felicity's amazement, continued on toward the kitchen. Almost laughing aloud in relief, she realized her fears had been for naught. It had only been Lucy, her grandfather's housemaid, hastening to fulfill some new directive Jane had given her.

Smiling smugly, Felicity returned to the window through which she had been contemplating the world. If she delayed long enough, perhaps her mother would even give up on her coming upstairs. After all, caring for the miller was his daughter's responsibility, no one else's.

Leaning near a windowpane, Felicity searched eagerly for a familiar face. Having had her head filled with fantasies of grandeur by her father for most of her life and, more recently, a wee taste of the social life aristocrats often enjoyed, she entertained lofty aspirations of rich gowns, grand balls, and regal courtships. She yearned to be out amongst the bustling shoppers, but she could think of no viable excuse that would be effective in inducing her mother to let her go out, especially now after her assistance had been requested.

Reflecting upon the aristocrats she had recently met, Felicity braced her chin on a slender knuckle and considered the odds of claiming any one of them for her own. Major Lord Stuart Burke was indeed handsome and entertaining, and if she could attract no other, he'd certainly suffice. Still, if given a choice, she'd prefer the very handsome Lord Randwulf. He was not a mere man in her opinion; he was the very essence of the perfect being, and even if debtors were nigh on his heels, she could only guess that the wealth associated with his marquessate would soon absolve him of all those minor inconveniences.

Her eyes wandered dreamily down the lane, and then she straightened with an excited gasp, recognizing the very one she had been daydreaming about… Lord Randwulf! At the moment, he was making his way along the thoroughfare with the aid of his elegant walking stick.

Felicity's heart quickened with excitement, and she dashed into the hall, calling toward the kitchen, "Lucy, I need your assistance upstairs in my room immediately! Immediately, I say!"

The servant sputtered incoherently as she stumbled to the doorway. Felicity didn't bother glancing back as she raced toward the stairs. Although she chanced attracting her mother's attention by going to her room, she had little choice. She just couldn't let Lord Randwulf see her attired in anything less than her finest.

She was nigh breathless by the time she reached the third level, but she dared not pause. Upon entering her spacious bedchamber, she flung open the doors of the stately armoire residing near the window and began sorting through her gowns in a frantic quest to find her newest day dress. In spite of her mother's vigorous protestations that they could not afford such extravagance, a seamstress and a milliner had been engaged shortly after Jarvis Fairchild had assumed his new position at the mill. A fashionable mauve creation, with bands of creamy silk lutestring edged with mauve cording ornamenting the skirt, small capped sleeves, and full-length sleeves, was the costliest gown she had ever owned and, without a doubt, the most fetching. A matching bonnet made the ensemble even more attractive.

Drawing forth the garment, Felicity lovingly scanned its length. As irresistible as it was, she had worn it more in a short span of time than she had first deemed wise, but the compliments that had been evoked had made it difficult to resist. She suffered no uncertainty that she'd be able to claim the nobleman's attention garbed in such an exquisite gown.

A tiny stain on the bodice caught her eye, wrenching a gasp of dismay from her. Though Felicity had known such mishaps were bound to happen, especially with repeated wearing, shewas nevertheless incensed that the spot had not been taken care of by a servant before now. In growing vexation, she whirled as the door swung open.

Clearly winded from her frantic haste to reach the uppermost level, the housemaid bolted into the room and clasped a trembling hand to her bosom as she paused to catch her breath. Her gaze met the seething glower of her young mistress, and in sudden consternation she tottered backward several steps, querying fearfully, "Is anythin' wrong, miss?"

"I'll tell you exactly what's wrong, Lucy!" Advancing until they stood nearly toe-to-toe, Felicity shook the garment in front of the servant's face. "I've told you repeatedly that you are to make certain my clothes are clean and fit for me to wear before you put them away in my armoire. You must know that this is my very best gown, and yet you put it away soiled. What is your excuse for your oversight?"

Lucy chewed her bottom lip worriedly. She had been working for the elderly miller for only a few years, yet he had seemed pleased with her efforts. Her confidence, however, had begun eroding shortly after Felicity and her father had started harping at her, making her feel as useless as a toad. "I'm dreadfully sorry, miss. I didn't notice the stain, what wit' it bein' such a tiny little thing, an' all."

"If I can see it, then others can see it as well!" In a raging temper, Felicity whipped the garment viciously across the servant's face, sending that one stumbling backward with sharply stinging eyes. "Do what you can to clean the spot and make the gown presentable for me to wear. Immediately, do you hear?"

"Yes, miss." Hurriedly gathering the garment within her arms, Lucy blinked repeatedly to clear her now blurred vision as she tried to ignore the painful burning of her cheeks and eyes. Trembling, she set her cap aright and asked in some confusion, "Are yu going out, miss? Mayhap yu didn't hear yur ma. She were askin' for yur help—"

"I can't be bothered with trivial tasks now," Felicity snapped testily, "not when there's a matter of far greater urgency requiring my attention. Now clean the spot off my gownand be quick about it. Do you understand? I need you to help me dress."

"But Mistress Jane wanted me ta hurry back wit' the ointment…."

Felicity leaned toward the maid until the tips of their noses were nearly touching. At such close range, the maid's eyes resembled large, round disks of palest gray. "You will help me get ready, Lucy, or I will beat you until you whimper, do you understand?"

A frantic nod came in quick response. "Aye, miss."

The gown was just being lowered over Felicity's head some moments later when Jane Fairchild pushed open the door. What was all too apparent made the older woman heave an exasperated sigh. "And just where do you think you're going decked out in that finery, young lady?"

Groaning inwardly, Felicity strove to find the opening of her bodice through the skirt's enveloping shroud. She knew from long experience she had to be far more cordial in her mother's presence than she had thus far been with the maid. If not, she'd be denied permission to leave the house, and then she'd spend the rest of the day doing chores. "Oh, Mama, truly, ‘tis a matter of gravest urgency."

Jane folded her arms across her midsection and scoffed in disbelief. "And what, pray, has become so pressing since I asked for your assistance?"

Felicity heard the skepticism in her parent's voice and was leery of telling her the truth. No doubt her mother would chide her again for chasing an empty dream.

Dragging the gown down into place, she silently glared at Lucy who had stepped away to await the outcome of the discussion. Hurriedly the girl stumbled forward again and, with shaking fingers, began fastening the garment. Satisfied with Lucy's frenzied efforts to please her, Felicity faced her parent and smiled tentatively.

"You remember Lady Samantha and Lady Adriana, don't you, Mama?" At the older woman's chary nod, she hastened to explain. "Well, shortly after our ride last week, they introduced me to an individual I just noticed in town. I've been thinking it would be nice to make a gift for each of the ladies to show our appreciation for their kindness to Grandfather … and also, for inviting me on their ride. If you'd allow me to speak with this individual, I'm sure I'd have a better idea what the two ladies would enjoy in the way of handmade gifts."

A thin brow arched dubiously. "And does this acquaintance happen to be a man, by any chance?"

"We'll be in plain view of the house, Mama," Felicity assured her nervously and decided that it would better serve her purpose to reveal the lordly status of the man. "‘Tis Lady Samantha's brother, the Marquess of Randwulf, Mama…. He'd certainly be able to advise me, for he knows both women well. I also wanted to thank him for his hospitality since one of the houses we visited was his."

"Don't let your dreams get entangled with him, child," Jane warned with motherly concern. "He must marry a lady from among his peers."

Irritated with her mother's predictable statement, Felicity dared to protest. "For heaven's sakes, Mama, I only want to ask his advice about the gifts and thank him for his kindness."

Jane nodded slowly, taking in her daughter's appearance. "And there you are, looking as radiant as a rainbow in the sky." She waved a hand in a submissive gesture, having felt inclined herself to repay the ladies in some way for the costly herbs they had brought her father, as well as for their kindness to her daughter. "Very well, Felicity. I approve of your desire to show our gratitude toward the ladies, but, mind you, don't be long. Your grandfather wants you to read to him for a while this afternoon."

Felicity groaned petulantly. "Not from the Bible again."

"For shame," Jane scolded. "It gives him comfort while he's ailing, and as far as I'm concerned, you need a good dose of its wisdom. You're far more concerned with your appearance than you should be."

" ‘Tis boring reading that stuff!"

"Perhaps to you, but not to him," her mother averred.

Felicity sighed, as if relenting, but dared no other comment. It was a fact that Jane Fairchild loved and respected her father; it was more than Felicity could say for herself when it came to the elder.

Some moments later, Felicity hurriedly snuggled into the costly cape her father had purchased for her as she made her way rather briskly down the steep thoroughfare toward the place where she had last seen the marquess. Hopefully, Lord Colton would merely conclude she had come out for a bit of fresh air and exercise rather than for the purpose of chasing him down like a hound on the scent of an animal.

Smiling as if she had nothing more important to do with her time than enjoy the pleasant weather, Felicity nodded graciously to passersby who responded in kind or politely tipped their hats in greeting. At last, out of the corner of her eye, she espied the one for whom she had been feverishly searching just stepping from a silversmith's shop. He was using his walking stick with surprising proficiency as he descended to the boardwalk. Indeed, in a few weeks he'd likely be using it as a swagger stick.

Felicity could only guess the cost of his new gentlemanly attire and was sure such an expenditure would stagger the wits of a dedicated dandy. She had never seen the like of such handsome lapels or smoothly folded collar. Every seam and stitch evidenced tailoring only noblemen could afford. With such expensive tastes, she could well imagine why his creditors had been so eager for him to assume the marquessate.

Oblivious to his admirer, Colton Wyndham turned crisply on his good leg and progressed toward the far end of the thoroughfare. His destination, Felicity determined, was a fine black landau harnessed to a smartly matched four-in-hand that sported bobbed tails and stiff, brush plumes atop their heads parked alongside the lane in a narrow niche beyond the bridge, a place that posed no hindrance to other carriages and wagons moving to and fro along the narrow, cobblestone lane.

Though such haste was hardly conducive to the impression Felicity wanted to convey, she soon realized if she didn'thurry herself right along, she'd lose more than merely an opportunity to converse with the marquess. Her future aspirations might well depend on this very man. In spite of leg muscles that must have still been weak from his injury, the man moved with an agility that threatened to extend the distance between them in short order. As much as Felicity strove to breech the gap, with every step she lost more ground.

It came to Felicity of a sudden that if she didn't stoop to using some rather unladylike tactics, she'd likely see her hopes dashed by his lordship's departure. To have cajoled her way out of the house alone had been a rare event indeed; she just couldn't contemplate failure now when the prize she craved seemed to dangle like a delectable sweetmeat just beyond her grasp. In desperation, she laid a slender hand alongside her mouth and called out, "Oh, Lord Randwulf!"

Her immediate success made her heart soar, for the man turned promptly about to scan the street behind him. Espying her rushing toward him, he smiled and reversed his direction. As they came together, he touched the brim of his silk hat politely in gentlemanly salutation as he offered her a dazzling grin.

"Miss Felicity, we meet again."

"Yes," she gasped, clasping a hand to her heaving bosom. She was so thoroughly winded she could manage no further statement.

"Out for a stroll?"

An imperceptible nod and a demure smile had to suffice as Felicity struggled to regain her composure. Even so, she doubted she had ever heard a more pleasing voice in all her life. The smoothly melodious tones sent little shivers racing through her whole being.

Gallantly Colton rescued the lady from her breathless dilemma as he turned in the direction of her grandfather's residence and began to progress up the street, closely adhering to the code of behavior that frowned upon two members of the opposite gender halting on a thoroughfare merely to converse with each other. Although he considered it a silly rule himself,as a gentleman he could hardly dismiss the voracious eagerness of gossips to devour a lady's reputation for minor offenses. "You have no idea, Miss Felicity, how relieved I am to be able to identify at least one face among the residents of Bradford. I fear its inhabitants have become strangers to me during my absence. The older ones seem familiar enough in spite of the ten and six years I've been away. Even so, it takes me a while before I can recall their names. As for the younger ones, I'm afraid I'm totally at a loss." He glanced around at the quaint little shops lining the cobbled street. "Still, except for a grand new house or cottage here and there, the town is much as it was when I left."

Felicity peered about her, finding it difficult to rally the same degree of enthusiasm he was exhibiting. She couldn't imagine living for the whole of one's life confined in such an unimpressive town. "My grandfather must be the oldest living resident hereabouts." She flicked a smiling glance aside at his lordship, well aware that her dark lashes emphasized the blue of her eyes from that particular angle. "He says he remembers the events that took place when you were born. According to him, your father was so proud over the birth of his son that he invited not only his relatives and a whole host of acquaintances from London, but everyone from the surrounding area to your christening. Grandpa said it was quite a mixture of aristocrats and common folk, yet they were all on their very best behavior out of respect for your father. As for myself, I know only a few people hereabouts. If not for the kindness of your sister and Lady Adriana, I wouldn't know anyone at all. To be sure, both ladies proved far more gracious than anyone I ever met in London."

"A great metropolis, London. You must miss it immensely after living there all your life."

"I admit that at times I find myself recalling the sights, the sounds …"

"The smells?" he finished with a teasing grin.

She blushed, understanding only too well to what he wasreferring. At times, the odors wafting from the streets were strong enough to stifle a person. "London does have a few disadvantages."

"A few," he agreed amiably, "but not enough to discourage people from living there. I can understand that you may be lonely for it. If you've never acquired a taste for country life, London would definitely seem far more exciting."

"Lady Samantha said your family has a house there."

"Aye, we do, but as a rule, my parents have always preferred the country, especially during the off-season. My father was particularly fond of hunting, as are many of his old acquaintances and friends. I'm sure he and Lord Sutton contributed largely to Adriana's enjoyment of the sport."

"You mean Lady Adriana enjoys shooting animals? After being so dedicated to nursing them back to good health when she was young?" Felicity shook her head, making much of her bemusement. "I don't understand how she could have become so insensitive about taking the lives of helpless creatures. I would never be able to do such a thing myself. My goodness, I couldn't even kill a pesky mouse."

Colton was amazed to feel his hackles rising at Felicity's trivial disparagement of the woman he'd soon be courting. Obviously she was trying to portray herself as far more compassionate, yet when he recalled the brunette's gentle empathy with the three Jennings children, he felt strongly motivated to defend her against the blonde's wily subterfuge. "My sister has informed me that there's a stipulation to which Adriana closely adheres when she hunts. Any game she kills is either served at her family's table or given to others in need. So far this year, she has donated stores of food and game to help provide sustenance for several needy families through the coming winter, including a couple who has taken into their humble home over a dozen orphans. It seems far more mature and exceedingly more honorable of her ladyship to feed people who are starving or in want rather than ignore their plight while she nurses back to health injured strays that could very well be gobbled down by other animals soon after their release."

Felicity realized her error as she detected a note of ire in the man's voice and hurried to dismiss the notion that she was faulting the other woman. "Oh, please be assured, my lord, I never meant to suggest that Lady Adriana is heartless…."

"A more benevolent young woman I have yet to meet," Colton rejoined with a terse smile. "Of that, I am confident." Recognizing his own growing irritation and impatience to be about his affairs, he lifted a hand to the brim of his top hat, intending to bid the fair-haired beauty an adieu, but in casting a brief glance behind him toward his waiting carriage, he espied two well-garbed ladies emerging from a dressmaker's shop.

The taller of the two was unmistakable; she had been dwelling on his mind almost constantly since he had found her soaking in his bath. Now, persistently in the night-borne shadows of his bedchamber, that singular memory haunted him like some willful, recurring apparition licensed to torment his sleep. From that moment in the bathing room, he had been wont to suspect that his mind had been seared forevermore with an image of her delectable form. As much as he yearned to free himself from the hauntingly persuasive song that lured his thoughts relentlessly toward the dark-eyed temptress, he feared nothing short of taking her into his bed and introducing her to the delights to be found between a man and a woman would assuage his long-starved passions. Still, after realizing that Riordan Kendrick wanted her so badly, he seriously doubted his desires would come to fruition without wedding vows being spoken between them. Whether he desired his freedom more than the lady was a decision he'd have to make very, very soon, or else see his infatuation with the beauty brought to a frustrating end by Lord Gyles's acceptance of Riordan's petition of marriage.

He could only presume the diminutive slip of femininity who hurried along beside Adriana was her sister, Melora. He hadn't gotten that close a look at the petite blonde when he had delivered Adriana back to her father's stoop. In truth, he had been too intent upon watching the irate brunette to pay close attention to anyone else. At present, the two were absorbed intheir own vivacious chatter and seemed totally unaware that he was even within the area as they came up the cobbled street.

Excusing himself momentarily from Felicity, he approached the pair until he was nigh upon them, whereupon he stepped into their path. The two came to a startled halt, their mouths flying open in astonishment. Melora emitted something that sounded like a fearful whine as her gaze swept quickly upward. After passing the broad shoulders, she was forced to crane her neck far back to see beyond that point. About that time was when she decided she had seen enough to convince her that they were confronting a living, breathing Goliath. With a muffled groan, she whirled promptly about and launched herself in the opposite direction, leaving her younger sister the task of dealing with this huge monster.

Immediately, Adriana reached out to catch Melora's arm and valiantly dragged her fainthearted sibling back to her side as she squelched that one's mewling alarm with a muted, but firm, "Shush!"

Forcing a smile even as she struggled to subdue a blush stirred forth by memories of the man's intrusion into her bath and his more recent nerve to invite her into his bed, Adriana lifted her gaze to meet the translucent eyes now gleaming back at her. She certainly hoped it wouldn't take forever for her to forget his slow, exacting perusal in the bathing chamber, his shocking, manly display there, or his bold solicitation in his carriage, but the way things were going, she could foresee herself being plagued by recurring reenactments of those moments until she was nigh eighty … if she lived that long.

She feigned a cheeriness she didn't necessarily feel, for as yet the man had not responded to her parents' note suggesting several possible times for his visit to Wakefield Manor, which seemed to indicate his disinterest in complying with the terms of the contract. "Why, Lord Randwulf, we meet again."

"Good morning, ladies," Colton greeted, sweeping off his top hat with flamboyant gallantry.

Adriana almost expected his teeth to sparkle with the same devilish twinkle she now saw shining in those gray eyes.

Though unspoken, the message conveyed by those shining orbs awakened within her a strange excitement that could be felt all the way down to her nipples. It gave her little ease to realize the man probably knew better than her own mother what she looked like entirely naked.

Clandestinely admiring everything her eyes touched, she briefly scanned his long, muscular frame. From his frock coat to the narrow, pin-striped trousers, his garments were so meticulously tailored she had serious cause to wonder if she had ever seen the Prince Regent as well garbed. But then, when a man had been gifted with a tall, broad-shouldered, lean-waisted, narrow-hipped form the like of Colton Wyndham's, clothes were merely an adjunct to his exceptional appearance. It was probably just as well for the ladies at court that His Highness's face and physique fell far short of such manly magnificence.

Felicity hurriedly joined them, not wishing to lose her tenuous grasp on the marquess, for she hadn't forgotten the attention he had liberally bestowed on the brunette during their visit to Randwulf Manor. "Why, Lady Adriana, how pleasant it is to see you again. His lordship and I were just strolling along, enjoying this fine day, when we happened to notice you."

Whatever elation had briefly surged within Adriana's heart when she had recognized Colton mattered not a wit to her after realizing he had been escorting Felicity about town. Indeed, such momentary delight might as well have been dust from a thousand years past.

"Good day, Miss Felicity," Adriana greeted, hoping her words didn't seem as stiff as her smile. Sweeping an elegantly gloved hand about to indicate her sibling, she strove hard to convey a suitable graciousness. "I don't believe you've yet been given an opportunity to meet my sister. Please allow me the pleasure of introducing you."

Felicity cheerily complied, delighted to include another name in her repertoire of aristocrats. Even so, she found it difficult to ignore the stark difference between the pair. "My goodness, I'd never have known the two of you were even related, much less sisters. You're as different as night and day."

Although Adriana laughed, it sounded false even in her own ears. There were definitely times when she felt like the black sheep of the family. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. I'm night … and my sister is day."

"Oh, I hope my comment didn't offend you, my lady," Felicity replied, trying desperately to make amends. "I certainly never meant to imply that either of you suffered any lack of beauty. On the contrary, you are both quite lovely."

Colton had trouble curtailing a grin as he witnessed this innocuous confrontation, but when he found himself the recipient of an icy glance from the winsome brunette, he grew a bit perplexed until it suddenly dawned on him what she might be thinking now that the blonde had joined them. Felicity's statement had seemed to suggest they had been out and about together.

"Never fear, Miss Felicity," Adriana assured the woman, managing a rather crisp, albeit pleasant smile. "That remark has been made so often in reference to our dissimilarity that my sisters and I have come to expect it. The simple fact is that my two siblings resemble my mother, and I, my father."

Stepping forward, Colton took her sister's dainty hand within his. "May I say, Lady Melora, that you're just as winsome as you were prior to my departure some years back."

"And you're just as gracious as your father before you, Lord Colton," Melora laughingly replied, craning her neck far back in order to meet his gaze. "But please, forego the formality. Our families have been friends far too long for us to adhere to such rigidity. I give you leave to call me by nothing more than my given name."

"Thank you, Melora, and please do the same." At her consenting nod, he cast a devilish grin toward Adriana, who directed her gaze in the opposite direction, deliberately snubbing him.

In an equally affable tone, Colton continued addressing the elder of the two. "I had the good fortune of meeting your intended, Major Sir Harold Manchester, during our encampment near Waterloo. He said at the time that you were reluctant tomarry him for fear of being made a widow. Though merely a bachelor myself, I can understand how, when close bonds are formed in betrothals and marriages, they can reap enormous grief when the death of a loved one severs them. Although one hopes to find the same abiding affection that your parents and, until recently, my own enjoyed throughout their marital unions, I fear ‘tis not always the case. You and Sir Harold are to be envied for having discovered such sweet accord before your wedding."

"We do feel immeasurably blessed," the petite blonde murmured, amazed that a worldly bachelor could understand the reasoning behind their decision to delay the wedding.

Melora cast a sidelong glance at her sister, clearly conveying the fact that she considered herself the victor in an earlier argument in which they had become embroiled. Being the recipient of that lofty look, Adriana yearned to chide her kin for being so gullible, yet with Colton and Felicity there to witness her testy response, she didn't dare. Melora had snidely accused her of feigning a bland disinterest in his lordship merely to veil the shame she'd likely suffer if he refused to ask for her hand at the end of their courtship. Obviously, after hearing the man voice insights into rationale she deemed private, Melora was willing to reject claims that he was insensitive to matters that women held dear.

Dismissing Melora with all the dignity she could muster, Adriana directed her consideration to Colton's altered appearance. "I see you've dispensed with your military trappings since last we met and have acquired more dapper attire, my lord. Your tailor must relish the opportunity to clothe not only a hero of the war but a man who does immense credit to everything he wears. Garbed in such stylish apparel, you'll soon be the envy of every roué from Bath to London. Indeed, I wouldn't doubt that you'd put Beau Brummell to task to equal such finery."

Colton didn't know just how to accept the lady's statement. He had seen far too many overdressed roués to have any desire to emulate them. As for Beau Brummell, the man had fallenout of favor with the nobility and, as it had recently been rumored, was heavily in debt and not nearly as stylish as he had once been. "I revere your words since they come from a lady who is herself exceptionally well garbed. You alone have seen me at my worst and must therefore appreciate what fine clothes can do for a man." His eyes glowed insinuatingly above a bold grin, pointedly reminding her that she had seen him without a stitch. "As for my London tailor, Mr. Gaines, he became well acquainted with my clothing needs early on in my career as an officer. His talent has endured throughout the years, and when I brought him from London, he and his assistants immediately set about to furnish me with a whole new wardrobe. Considering how many uniforms Mr. Gaines has made for me over the years, he was overjoyed at the opportunity to finally outfit me with all the paraphernalia of a gentleman. I'm afraid, however, that I've worn a uniform so long that I feel rather ostentatious in civilian attire. Nevertheless, ‘twill be something I'll have to get used to. In a way, it's like having to learn to dress myself all over again. As much as I've practiced, I fear the cravat is beyond my present capability."

In spite of her limited encounters with naked men, Adriana was wont to think by the seemingly insatiable tendency of her thoughts to dwell on details of the marquess's muscular torso that his reference to "his worst" was hardly that. In fact, she couldn't imagine anything about him that could be considered even remotely flawed … except, of course, his brazenness. As for his complaints about the cravat, she failed to find any defect there either. "Well, honestly, my lord, if you didn't do the honors, then I must lend praise to either Mr. Gaines or Harrison's abilities, for your cravat seems deftly executed."

"Your kindness is exceeded only by your grace and beauty, Lady Adriana," he answered, inclining his head in a shallow bow.

However unintentional or minor his slight toward the other two ladies may have been, Felicity took umbrage at the fact that he had praised neither her clothing nor her looks. In sharp contrast, he seemed eager to voice his admiration of Lady Adriana. Indeed, the lighthearted tête-à-tête the pair exchanged seemed to monopolize the couple's attention.

Felicity cut her eyes toward the brunette, curious to know why the man seemed so taken with her. Hadn't her own father told her that she was far more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen? If that was true, then why wasn't she the principal recipient of Lord Colton's admiration?

Considering the costly garments Lady Adriana wore, Felicity was put to confusion. The black lambskin cape, the deeply hued burgundy taffeta gown with its iridescent sheen, and the black-plumed, saucy bonnet of the same burgundy hue were altogether exquisite, but wasn't her own gown just as appealing? Of course, one had to consider that it wasn't her ladyship's looks or attire that really interested the marquess as much as her family's wealth. With the Suttons' affluence, the lady could afford to array herself in finespun gold … as well as to buy herself a nobleman whose tailors kept him heavily in debt.

Felicity sidled nearer the marquess, hoping to remind him of her presence. Even then, her attempt to claim his attention from the other came to naught, for he gave every indication that he had dismissed everyone else from mind as he questioned her ladyship about several young children only the two of them seemed to know anything about, concluding with an inquiry, "Have you looked in on them since their mother's funeral?"

"Yesterday afternoon, as a matter of fact," Adriana replied, for once allowing a genuine smile to curve her lips. "Mrs. Abernathy said she heard them giggling and cavorting outside for the first time since we took them there. Poor little cherubs, they were just skin and bones and, as you well know, in serious need of a bath—" Halting abruptly, Adriana almost cringed as she awaited Colton's reaction to her slip. She wanted to bite off her tongue right then and there for its tendency to clatter on foolishly without the aid of her wits. Why in the world did she have to mention the word bath?

The gray eyes glimmered tantalizingly. " ‘Tis hard to imagine anyone foregoing the pleasure of a bath, my lady, but I suppose the Jennings children were never able to enjoy even a satisfying meal, much less a lengthy soak in a tub."

Adriana tried her best to grit out a smile in spite of the glowing blush on her cheeks. Her lengthy soak had allowed him an advantage no other man had ever had over her. Whatever modesty she had carefully preserved until that day in time now did her little good in his presence. He knew exactly what she looked like bereft of all the costly clothes she had come to enjoy wearing. Were she eventually to marry another man, she had no doubt that this man's intrusion into her bath would haunt her throughout her marital union.

Colton glanced askance at Felicity, unable to ignore the fact that she was encroaching unusually close. Her deflated pout gave him cause to wonder if he had been too obvious in his eagerness to converse with Adriana. However guilty he had been of limiting his consideration entirely to one woman in the presence of others, Colton tried to ease the hurt feelings he had obviously elicited.

Sweeping his gaze about to encompass the three, he declared magnanimously, "I must say, ladies, you make it dreadfully difficult for a man who has long been bound to the battlefield to decide which of you fair maidens would win the prize for beauty or the most winsomely attired lady in the area. I do indeed feel honored to find myself in your collective company."

"You're very kind, my lord," Felicity replied, conveying her best impression of a genteel lady. The temptation to slip her hand through the bend of his arm was nearly beyond her ability to resist.

"You are most generous with your praise, my lord," Melora added, smiling.

"Be careful," Adriana warned, giving him a sidelong perusal and a brief glimpse of a tight smile. "Your pretty words will likely have us all smitten with you."

His eyes sparkled as they delved once again into the depths of those dark pools. "Then I would count myself fortunate indeed to have such comely maids under my spell."

Felicity gasped suddenly as she wobbled from side to side. In the next instant, she caught Colton's arm and held on with all her might, as if fearful of falling through a crack in the cobblestones. The idea for her ploy had come to her when she happened to recall the incident wherein the brunette had whirled through the elegant corridor of Randwulf Manor into the arms of the marquess. Whether that particular event had been planned or a chance occurrence, only her ladyship could rightly say. As for her own ruse, it certainly gave her the chance that she had been seeking. "My goodness," she gasped, slipping a hand through Colton's arm and drawing it close to her soft bosom. "I would have fallen if not for you, my lord."

Proving unstinting in his willingness to accept the lady's ploy for the accident she claimed it to be, Colton consolingly patted the gloved hand that clasped his sleeve. "I'm pleased to have been of service, Miss Felicity. It isn't every day a gentleman is gifted with the pleasure of having such a winsome lady upon his arm, however fortuitously it came about."

Felicity beamed with delight, pleased that she had managed to fool the man. "Oh, my lord, you truly are kind."

Adriana subdued an urge to emulate her father's habit of snorting in derision whenever he had reason to doubt circumstances to be what they seemed. If she were to do such a thing, she'd likely scandalize her sister, who'd then break all records racing home to tell their parents of her unladylike manners.

Colton met Adriana's cool stare briefly before her fine nose elevated and her gaze went chasing off. From all indications it seemed the lady was none too pleased with him, which did much to heighten his curiosity. Was she miffed merely because he had lent assistance to another woman?

Reluctantly Adriana turned a smile upon her rival. Although she was fairly certain the two were together for some special purpose, she was most curious to know just what that was. "You're looking so radiant this morning, Miss Felicity, I'm led to wonder if my sister and I are keeping you and his lordship from an important event. Considering the exquisiteness ofboth your appearances, I can only imagine that you two must be going to Bath, or perhaps to Bristol."

Felicity was suddenly aflutter over the idea. "Oh, yes. Wouldn't a trip to Bath be nice!" She glanced at Colton, hoping to receive an invitation similar to that which her ladyship had mentioned, but she was soon to be disappointed, for the gentleman remained discreetly mute. She sighed and, in a wistful tone, assured them, "I would really like to go there … someday."

Colton could not have relished Adriana's probing inquiries any more. Had she asked outright if he had plans to whisk the blonde off in his carriage, her irritation over that idea could not have been displayed more vividly. At least now he understood why she had seemed so annoyed. She obviously thought he was paying court to the lady.

Adriana cast a glance toward Colton and once again found herself the recipient of his warmly challenging gaze. The fact that he had not yet seen fit to disengage himself from the blonde's grasp seemed reason enough for her to snub him. Thus she turned her face aside and endeavored to ignore his unswerving regard.

Nevertheless Colton directed his inquiries to the two siblings. "Will Lady Jaclyn be coming to the wedding? ‘Twould please me immensely to see her again after all these years and, of course, to be introduced to her family."

Melora peered up at him with a smile. "Yes, of course. In fact, her whole family will be arriving a day or two before the wedding, so you'll be able to get acquainted with them prior to the nuptials, if you so choose."

Coolly distant, Adriana deigned to meet those glowing gray orbs that seemed eager to meet hers. "I'm sure Jaclyn will be delighted to see you again, my lord."

Having noticed the strange quirk that had briefly elevated her brow when he had spoken of the harmonious compatibility that Melora and her betrothed enjoyed, Colton wondered if she deemed him incapable of experiencing a similar attachment to a woman. Feeling directly challenged, he probed, "And you,

Lady Adriana, are you not hoping to mirror your sister's good fortune in finding a fiancé whom you can cherish and who will treasure you in return?"

"That seems to be the wish of every maiden, my lord," Adriana replied woodenly, thoroughly convinced that he was seeking some way to escape what his father had once decreed for him. His delay in answering her parents' missive seemed to bear that out. "As for myself, I suffer no grand illusions about the one who was chosen for me. He seems an independent sort, unwilling to bind himself to nuptials. I shan't be surprised if he departs for worlds unknown rather than comply."

The lady's answer was certainly affective in snuffing the heated lust he had recently been battling, Colton realized, but then, perhaps that would prove beneficial if it meant he could enjoy a good night's sleep for a change, instead of remembering how beautiful the lady had looked in his bath. Even so, he couldn't resist an equally nettling rejoinder. "I've heard that you have many smitten swains following at your heels, my lady. I would think you'd find it difficult to choose among them. Of course, there will always be Mr. Elston, should the others lose all hope of winning you for themselves. He seems adamant enough to stay the course through thick and thin."

The dark eyes flared with indignation. "Mr. Elston is merely an acquaintance, my lord, nothing more," Adriana stated frostily, her temper sorely pricked. "As for the suitor my father chose for me, I must bide my time till the true nature of such a match can be determined. I owe that much to my parents and the memory of the elderly gentleman who extended as much affection to me as he did his own daughter, yet I really don't foresee anything of measurable significance materializing from that relationship."

Colton raised a brow to a lofty level, rather amazed that she put no store in the honor she had been bequeathed by being his sire's only choice for a daughter-in-law. "I take it, then, that you have no interest in this … ah … relationship?"

"A friendship can hardly be nurtured between two individuals unless they spend some time together, my lord. Thus far,that has not occurred. Even if his lordship and I were to become better acquainted, I cannot hold out any hope that the agreement will bring about the desired end that our parents once hoped it would. We are at the very least strangers, and I cannot foresee that fact changing significantly either in the near or distant future."

Colton managed a laconic smile. It would certainly serve the lady her just due if he turned a deaf ear to the pleas of his parent. "Perhaps with a little patience, my lady, you will come to see the way of it. As will he."

Wondering what he meant, Adriana searched the depths of those dark gray eyes once again for what they would reveal, but the glowing warmth was no longer there. With a clipped smile and a murmured excuse, his lordship begged leave of them all and, pivoting about, limped toward his waiting carriage. In watching his departure, Felicity released a dejected sigh and then, after a moment, made her excuses to the two women before departing in the opposite direction.

Melora pinched her sister's arm, breaking the thoughtful trance into which Adriana had descended as she stared after Colton Wyndham.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Melora!" the younger sibling snapped, turning upon her indignantly. "You hurt me just now!"

"Considering the stone you have for a heart, I was wondering if you'd even notice," Melora retorted. "How could you have answered Colton like that? You might as well have slapped him in the face."

Adriana tossed her head, dismissing her sister's jibe. "If mine is of mere stone, then surely his must be made of hardest granite."

The petite sister elevated a challenging brow. "Two of a kind, in other words?"

Adriana leveled an ominous glower upon her older sister, annoyed because she had made such a comparison. Yet, when she turned aside, a gloomy sigh escaped her, for she had to wonder what in the world Sedgwick Wyndham had thought he had been doing when he had created this hellish torment forher. Would she ever be free of it? Would she ever be able to live a normal life with a husband who loved and cherished her above all other women? Or would she be constantly reminded that she had never been the choice of her husband and that, if he yielded at all, he would do so only to avoid wounding his mother?

Sweeping off his top hat, Colton stepped into the parlor of Samuel Gladstone's three-story Cotswold house. It had been several days since he had met Felicity Fairchild in town, but he had not forgotten his former promise to look in on her grandfather. That was the reason for his visit this day, to renew his acquaintance with the elder after his lengthy absence.

With the aid of his walking stick, Colton limped along behind Samantha as Jane Fairchild led the way upstairs to her father's bedchamber. At the elder's door, his sister paused to talk with Jane and motioned for him to precede her.

Soon after crossing the threshold, Colton noticed books upon layers of books stacked in nearly every available nook and cranny of the spacious room. A tall, elongated, glass-enclosed wooden case residing against the inside wall was completely full of weighty tomes. On a trestle table near the foot of the man's enormous bed were other volumes of comparable size intermingled with a number of others that were both smaller and larger.

Garbed in clean nightshirt and nightcap, Samuel Gladstone was sitting up in his bed with covers draped across his lower torso and a makeshift desk lying across his lap. Several goose-down pillows had been stuffed behind his back, providing a wealth of cushioning against the lofty Elizabethan headboard.

Colton paused, reluctant to disturb the elderly miller who seemed engrossed in perusing the contents of a ledger. Thus far, the man had failed to notice his entrance. Looking back to Jane for guidance, Colton received encouragement as she urged him on with a smile and shooed him inward with fluttering fingers. He stepped closer to the bed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Gladstone."

Lifting his gaze, Samuel readjusted wire-rimmed spectacles upon his nose as he squinted curiously at his visitor. It was not altogether rare that such a well-garbed gentleman came to see him. Lord Harcourt visited him quite often, in fact, bringing with him others who often left him chortling in glee, but the looks of this one was closely reminiscent of another he had once known and respected for a goodly number of years prior to that one's more recent death. Although equally as handsome and tall, this one who progressed toward his bedside with the aid of a fine walking stick was younger by perhaps thirty years.

Samuel Gladstone slowly waggled a finger at his guest as a smile stretched across his aging lips. "I recognize yur face."

Colton grinned and peered at the elder rather dubiously. It had been more than six and ten years since he had last seen the miller, and in that time they had both aged considerably. Indeed, the elder's hair was now totally white and much more sparse than it had once been. "Are you certain?"

Samuel seemed pleased that he could reply with an affirmative nod. "Though I'll warrant me legs aren't as strong as they used ta be, me noggin's still workin' fairly well. Aye, yu're the late Lord Randwulf's son. Yu've the same looks."

Colton chuckled. "So everyone around here keeps telling me. I can't seem to fool anyone, and yet I've found myself incapable of recognizing any of the townspeople."

"Sit down, sit down," the miller urged, motioning toward a nearby chair. "Yur sister kept me up ta date ‘bout places yu were at an' the many conflicts yu fought durin' different times o' yur military career. Most o' the people hereabouts have been mightily impressed wit' yur heroism. Mainly the stories come from others livin' outside our area, men what were in yur command an' others what fought alongside yur regiment." Samuel chortled suddenly in amusement. "O' course, me gran'child can't seem ta talk ‘bout anyone else. She told me yu'd been wounded, an' needed a cane ta get about wit'."

Settling into the proffered seat, Colton rested the walking stick across his thighs. "Actually, I'm making a little progress. I've been taking long walks in an effort to strengthen my leg and have even set myself a goal. The Suttons are giving a ball some weeks from now, and if I intend to dance with any of the fetching ladies I've seen in the area, I'll definitely have to reduce my dependency upon the cane. Otherwise, I'll be sitting like a peg bored into a stump, glumly watching all the other bachelors doing what I won't be able to do. That notion appeals to me about as much as getting another wound in my other leg."

The elderly miller leaned his head back upon his pillows and gave himself over to a moment of hearty mirth. When finally his guffawing ceased, he urged with a twinkle in his eye, "Now don't go breakin' yur other leg in yur haste ta get yur lame one workin' again. If'n yu find a pretty filly, jes' plead yur infirmity whilst yu lead her ta a dark corner."

Colton readily responded to the man's humor with laughter of his own. "You're a devious man, Mr. Gladstone, but I will be sure to remember your advice if I can't get this leg working the way I want it to."

In gentlemanly manner, Colton rose to his feet as Jane followed his sister into the room, but the woman readily motioned him back into his chair.

"No need to trouble yourself, my lord. Please resume your seat while I go make us some tea."

"Why don't yu sit an' visit wit' us for a spell, Jane," her father urged. "Yu scurry ‘round here seein' ta me needs, but yu take little time for yurself. I know how much yu enjoy it whene'er Lady Samantha or Lady Adriana come ta visit, so rest yurself an' enjoy her ladyship's visit. Mayhap Felicity would consider makin' the tea today."

Jane didn't dare glance at her father for fear of what he would see in her face. He was, after all, a very perceptive man. "Felicity isn't feeling well today, Papa. She has been in her room all afternoon."

Samuel Gladstone raised a bushy eyebrow, skeptical of Felicity's claims of infirmity, which he had noticed were now coming with increasing frequency. For his daughter's sake, herefrained from making comment. Jane had a good head on her shoulders, of that he was certain, and although she was more patient than he had ever been, he couldn't fault her for that, for he had not always been wise.

He had come to realize that living in the same house with her family had allowed him insights into characteristics and temperaments to which he wouldn't have been otherwise privy. It hadn't taken him long to come to the awareness that he could hardly abide Felicity's presence in his room. Rather than contend with the harsh, mutinous glares and laborious sighs the girl was wont to unleash upon him after being asked to do him favors, he had decided he'd do his own reading and other tasks, at least as much as he was able. Still, after having only servants doing his bidding since his beloved wife passed on, he had come to appreciate being pampered and coddled by his own sweet, darling daughter.

Jane paused at the door before leaving. "Do you wish me to take the ledgers back to the mill now, Papa? Jarvis will be coming home fairly soon."

"Aye, ‘tis much as you said. According ta the ledgers, Creighton and some o' me best workers are still gettin' paid. We'll talk ‘bout gettin' the lot o' ‘em in ‘ere ta tell me what they think be goin' on. I fear henceforth yu may be doin' more'n tendin' ta me needs, but I couldn't think o' anyone I taught any better. Yur accountin' would rival me own."

It wasn't long after tea had been served that Colton and Samantha said their farewells. As soon as Bentley saw them departing Stanover House, he brought the landau directly up the thoroughfare. About that same time, Felicity decided to lay aside her novel and meander across the hall into the front bedroom, the windows of which afforded a panoramic view of the town.

She had barely reached the leaded panes when she caught sight of her mother standing near the lane in front of the house as she waited for Lord Randwulf to hand his sister into his landau. A startled gasp was wrenched from Felicity, not only because she realized the two had come for a visit, but, moredisturbing, because they were about to take their leave. In frantic haste, she caught up her skirts and dashed toward the stairs. Her feet were a mere blur of motion as she made a rapid descent from the third story. All the while she sought to smooth her hair and neaten her gown. By the time she arrived at the front portal, she was nearly breathless, but she dared not pause, knowing she had little time to halt the Wyndhams' departure. Snatching open the door, she nearly catapulted herself from the Cotswold house. Alas, the driver had already set the fancy steeds in motion.

Racing down the stone walk, Felicity waved frenetically in an attempt to catch the driver's eye, but even as fast as her slippered feet flew upon the curving path, her efforts proved to no avail. When she reached the end of the walk, the landau was moving smartly down the lane.

Felicity clasped a hand over her racing heart as she wheezed air into her depleted lungs. Still huffing, but now in more ways than one, she whirled upon her parent, thoroughly incensed that she hadn't been informed of the marquess's visit. "Why didn't you tell me Lord Colton was here?"

In spite of her daughter's indignation, Jane lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. "You told me you were sick and didn't feel like being disturbed under any circumstances. I took you at your word."

"But you should've known I'd want to see his lordship!" Felicity railed back and flung out a hand to indicate the conveyance now descending the hill at a brisk pace. "Don't you care that Lord Colton may never come back because of what you've done?"

Jane seemed to turn a deaf ear to her daughter's arguments as she watched the landau's departure. "I assumed you were feeling too poorly to entertain visitors. If that was not the case, then you should've applied yourself to some of the tasks that needed to be done, and then you wouldn't have missed Lord Randwulf's visit."

"You did that on purpose, didn't you? To punish me merely because I wasn't doing your drudgery! Just wait until Papahears about this! He won't believe how utterly stupid and petty you've been not to let me know his lordship had come to see me—"

"If I were you, young lady, I'd be careful what you say to me," her mother warned, still staring off into the distance. "You may yet find yourself scrubbing floors before the Suttons' ball rolls around. And if you prove too belligerent, you'll find yourself staying home that night in spite of Lady Samantha's invitation."

Totally incensed at her mother's threats, Felicity leaned forward and fairly railed in her ear, "You can't make me stay at home, not when Papa expects me to go! Now tell me, what feeble excuse did you give his lordship when he asked to see me?"

Highly offended by her daughter's demands, Jane came around with eyes flaring and swept a hand smartly across her cheek, wrenching a startled gasp from Felicity. In a voice that had grown threateningly cold, Jane advised her offspring, "Don't ever shout at me like that again or you will wish you hadn't."

Clasping a hand to her burning cheek, Felicity gaped back at her mother as if thoroughly convinced the woman had taken leave of her senses. Although she had received swats upon her buttocks whenever she had misbehaved as a child, her mother had never once struck her across the face. "I'm going to tell Papa on you!" she shrieked and burst into tears. "He'll make you regret your foolishness in not allowing Lord Colton to see me—"

"His lordship didn't come here to see you," Jane corrected sharply. "He came here to visit your grandfather, and if you really want to know, he never once mentioned you. Should you wish me to explain that fact to your father, I shall do so. Perhaps it's time he realizes Lord Randwulf has no intention of marrying below his peerage."

"Papa believes differently!"

A frustrated sigh escaped her mother's lips. "As beautiful as you are, I can understand why your father has great hopes for your future, but his efforts to push you toward that end maynever come to fruition, Felicity, at least not in the way he'd like. If you throw yourself at titled gentlemen, hoping to gain a place as their wife, you may well come to regret it. You could easily be sullied and then tossed aside, leaving you with very little hope of attracting a respectable husband. Rumors have a way of ruining lives. No man wants spoiled goods."

"Lord Randwulf would never do that!"

"Although I would expect that Lord Randwulf is like most men in that he's just as susceptible to a woman's charms and invitations as the next man, I'm not referring to him or anyone in particular. The poorest scoundrel can pose as much of a hazard to a young, innocent girl as any rich, handsome lord if he knows the right words to entangle a gullible maid's mind. You're too naive to realize the risks you could encounter if you throw yourself at them. Although titled lords are deemed gentlemen by society's standards, I fear more often than not they're inclined to turn their backs on women who've born them bastards and, to avoid disgrace, claim it was some other man's chit. If you yield to any of them, then you'll likely reap untold sorrow…."

"You're just jealous, that's all," Felicity accused acidly. "You can't bear the thought that I'm still young and beautiful and whatever looks you once had are gone because of hard work and toil. No wonder Papa loves me and not you!"

Jane staggered back a step, shocked by her daughter's accusation. "Well, I guess I really hadn't thought too much about his love for me. Perhaps I've been too trusting myself, but I suppose I shall have to lend consideration to that possibility. In any case, it changes nothing. You will make every effort to improve your disposition and learn proper respect for your elders or I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands."

"What do you mean by that?" the younger woman asked curtly.

"If any of Lord Wellington's foes had asked him to define his plans before he had set them in motion, I'm sure he would've declined, and so shall I, for ‘tis apparent that you and I are seriously at odds. My main concern as your parent isteaching you proper respect, not only for me, but for others as well. From now on, you won't be lounging in your room when there are chores to be done. Nor will you threaten mayhem upon Lucy or any of the other servants in order to get them to complete your tasks. And if you think your father is going to negate what I say, I wouldn't depend too much on that premise if I were you. He'll be too worried about correcting his own actions to concern himself about your many complaints."

Felicity peered at her mother closely, trying to discern her meaning. "What are you saying?"

"That really doesn't concern you, Felicity. ‘Tis a matter strictly between your father, grandfather, and myself. Just be aware that henceforth you will either complete my directives or you will have to answer to me … and to me alone."

It seemed Roger's good fortune that, on the very same morning he had been wondering how he could resume his courtship of Adriana, he espied Lord Randwulf's coach making a departure from the Gladstones' residence. That fact allowed him an opportunity to ride over to Wakefield Manor to report what he had seen to Adriana and to offer several considerations, which had been obvious to everyone from the very beginning, that Felicity was thoroughly taken with the marquess and that, quite possibly, Randwulf was also interested in her.