Felicia (7 page)

“I cannot possibly,” Lady Louisa protested. “I mean, how can I?” She paused as she gave the idea some thought. “Do you really think I am well enough to travel, Paul?” she asked incredulously.

Lord Umber gave a bark of laughter. “I hardly think Paul would make such an outrageous suggestion, Mama, if he thought otherwise. Paul?”

“If you can both bear the cliché, it’s just what the doctor is ordering. To be quite honest with you, Lady Louisa, you have no real need of my services any longer. Physically you are in perfect health, and if you can cope with the
idea
of a long journey, the mental rewards you will gain from a London Season will complete the cure.”

“I think the suggestion is marvelous, Paul,” Lord Umber intervened hastily, as he saw his mother about to protest. “Can we leave it to you to inform Miss Richards?” His voice was light, but Dr. Ross saw the doubt in his eyes.

He had always been amazed by the depth of Lord Umber’s affection for his mother. If one were to judge him by outward appearances, one would have called him a cynical libertine. He was well known in every gambling hall in London and the gossip about town gave him the reputation of being a dissolute rakehell. Very few people knew the real man, for Lord Umber went to great lengths to conceal his true character. Apart from insuring that his mother lived in utmost comfort, he quietly worked for several charities, donating and raising large sums of money for orphans. There was an unknown quality about him that set him apart from other men, and his few close friends knew him to be a sensitive, compelling person whom they admired and respected. They knew that, despite his reputation as a roué and his genuine enjoyment of female companionship, he was as often the pursued as the pursuer. Moreover, his personal sense of honor forbade him to seduce any woman who did not come to him freely, and, far from delighting in heartlessly discarding the wantons with whom he tarried (or in severing with unnecessary harshness the alliances instigated by highborn flirts), he took pride in arranging any inevitable farewells with great consideration.

Dr. Ross could well guess what had transpired between Felicia and Lord Umber the day of the accident and understood how Lord Umber felt when he realized the mistake he had made—angry with himself and now dismayed at the prospect that Felicia might refuse to go to London on account of his behavior.

“I think I can persuade her, although I am sure she will worry about the difference in the stagecoach fare from London to Manchester.”

“Assure her that I will compensate her,” Lady Louisa said. “As I am powerless to resist you both, I will need her to travel with me. The very thought of embarking on such a journey by myself is frightening.”

“Of course, Lady Louisa,” Dr. Ross smiled triumphantly.

“I know we can rely on you, Paul,” Lord Umber said, turning to his mother, “I will escort both you and Miss Richards to London in a week—if that is convenient, Mama?”

“Convenient!” Lady Louisa exclaimed in mock horror. “Since when have you been concerned with anyone else’s convenience?”

“Seldom, Mama,” Lord Umber replied, repressing a smile. “This is one of those very rare occasions.”

“And what of our house guests?” Lady Louisa inquired.

“Oh! Not to worry on their account,” Lord Umber assured. “For I am sure that after a few days of idleness they will all be happy to return to London.”

Acknowledging that all was settled with a nod of her silvery head, Lady Louisa rose from the sofa. “Well, in that case, gentlemen, I can see that I will barely have time to rest in the next week unless I start making the necessary arrangements now. Paul, if I did not know better, I would swear you are in league with my son.”

She left the room without a backward glance and did not see the two men smile at each other in amusement.

“Well, Ian,” Dr. Ross asked, “do you approve of the change in your mother?”

“You have worked a miracle, Paul. I never thought I would ever see her sparkle like that again. It has been such a long time.”

“Your thanks should go to Miss Richards, for ’tis she who was wrought the change.”

“Aha! Miss Richards!” Lord Umber said nonchalantly. “If I did not know you better, Paul, I would suggest you have fixed your interest in that direction.”

“Only professionally,” Dr. Ross responded quickly. “Although ’twould be difficult to find such a sweet-natured female again. She is a real puzzlement to me, Ian. I declare she is as well-bred as either you or I, and yet, I have never heard of a Richards in our circles.”

“It could be that she is using a false name,” Lord Umber suggested. “Who knows, someone may recognize her in London and solve the mystery for you.”

“But not for her,” Dr. Ross pointed out. “It has become imperative to me that I restore her memory for her. Can you imagine the horror of not knowing who you really are?”

“Consider the possibility, Paul, that she may be better off not knowing. Suppose she really is a highly accomplished cyprian. That could explain her knowledge and manners.”

Dr. Ross pretended to look shocked. “Ian, my dear friend, you are far too young to be such a cynic. Mark my words, Miss Richards is what she seems to be. A lady of quality.”

“Enough, Paul,” Lord Umber laughed. “I hear the sounds of my guests arriving.”

“Your latest flirt amongst them?” Dr. Ross questioned lightly.

“The delicious Lady Barbara? Oh, yes. But I very much doubt that she will arrive early. She will be late enough to make a grand entrance, but not so late as to appear rude. Excuse me, Paul,” he gave a slight bow. “Duty calls.”

Five

Felicia paused at the bottom of the
formal staircase to admire the floral display she had arranged. A maid had placed it on the large, hand-carved oak pedestal that one of Lord Umber’s ancestors had brought back from the West Indies. The fragrance from the flowers filled the hallway. Lilies of the valley interwoven with delphiniums set off to perfection the delicate, almost translucent white orchids she had discovered in one of the greenhouses. Seeing her handiwork, she felt pleased. Even if she could not remember under what circumstances, for the moment, it was reassuring to know that she had been raised to take care of domestic details.

“I think they will please his lordship,” she said to herself as she crossed the tiled floor to the green drawing room. “And I am certain that Lady Louisa will enjoy them.” She slipped into the room unobtrusively and found, to her dismay, that a few of the guests were already assembled. She quickly made her way to Lady Louisa’s side, but her desire to go unnoticed was thwarted when David Burton detached himself from a group of people and joined her.

“Good evening, Lady Louisa, Miss Richards,” he said as he bowed deeply. “What a charming picture you both make. You quite brighten up this dark corner.”

Felicia blushed prettily and Lady Louisa chuckled. “Go and make an elegant leg to Miss Fitzroy, David, and take Miss Richards with you. I refuse to be cast into the shade by having her stand next to me.”

Mr. Burton smiled. “That will be my pleasure, Lady Louisa,” he answered and drew Felicia’s hand onto his arm. “Miss Richards?”

Felicia curtsied and moved gracefully toward the group in the center of the room, unaware that everyone was looking at her for she was busy whispering to Mr. Burton, “It is not necessary to introduce me around. After all, I am Lady Louisa’s companion, not a relative.”

“What? And be accused by all my friends of keeping you all to myself? They would never forgive me.” He drew her deftly into the group and made the introductions quickly. He knew they would all be curious as to who she was, but also knew that their good manners would prevail and keep their questions for later.

He had barely recognized in Felicia the dowdy girl he had met earlier in the library. The dress she wore now was the height of fashion, and fitted beautifully. It was light blue silk falling to the ground in soft pleats, and was caught at the waist by a girdle of roses. A frill of sapphire chiffon framed her alabaster white shoulders. Matching roses were threaded through the curls that Lady Louisa’s maid had coaxed into a Psyche knot, with a few careless tendrils, caressing her cheeks.

She acknowledged the introductions with a polite nod and stood to one side, listening to the general talk, trying to remember all the names.

Lord Rowbotham, a dandy of the first water, eyed her appreciatively. He liked what he saw and wondered if she also had a fortune. He regretfully decided that the answer must be negative, for Lord Umber would have mentioned it. He beamed at her anyway and sidled over to her.

Felicia tried to suppress a smile at the sight he made, and almost succeeded until she caught Mr. Burton’s eye. However, she managed to turn her smile into one of polite inquiry which set Lord Rowbotham at ease.

“I say, Miss Richards, what’s the latest
on dit
about Umber and his orchids?”

Taken aback by the question, Felicia stared at him blankly. “I beg your pardon? Orchids? I am afraid I don’t understand.”

“Flowers, you know,” he explained kindly. “I noticed a maid putting a whole display of them in the hallway on my way down tonight. Never thought that Umber would agree to wasting those precious blooms on us.”

“He didn’t,” Felicia replied faintly, as a cold feeling gripped her. “I cut them myself.”

Lord Rowbotham looked at her in amazement. “You mean he ain’t even seen them yet? I thought it peculiar when I saw them. They are far better than mine, and he would easily have won the contest…”

“You mean that he was growing them especially for an exhibition?” Felicia queried. She wondered why Lady Louisa had not said anything, and then remembered that she had cut them at the last moment, without consulting her.

“Far worse,” Lord Rowbotham said gravely. “A wager.”

“I fear he will not be pleased then.” At the moment she felt only disdain for her host. Gambling was such a petty reason to grow such magnificent blooms.

Lord Rowbotham nodded his head in agreement before saying placatingly, “But he cannot blame you, if you didn’t know what they were, now can he? What say you, David?”

Mr. Burton raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s that, Cuthbert?”

“The orchids that Miss Richards has cut by mistake. Ian will understand?”

“No, as you well know yourself, Cuthbert.” Mr. Burton gave Felicia a sympathetic look. “But do not worry, Miss Richards. I will defend you if Lord Umber allows his temper to get out of control. And, I daresay we can persuade Cuthbert to stand firm on your other side.”

“Not wise, David, old boy!” Lord Rowbotham said evasively. “He’ll only think I had a hand in it.”

Felicia turned to Mr. Burton in disbelief. “You are serious? I can hardly believe that I have committed an unpardonable sin.”

Mr. Burton looked at her curiously as he nodded his head. He was surprised that she showed no signs of trepidation.

“Then I shall confess immediately and take all the heat,” she continued determinedly. “Lord Umber will understand, I am sure.”

“Yes, yes,” Lord Rowbotham agreed quickly. “Ian can never resist a pretty face.”

“Shame on you, Cuthbert,” Mr. Burton chided. “I, for one, do not intend to let Miss Richards bear the brunt of Ian’s fury.” He turned toward the rest of the group, who were all listening with interest

“Oh, Miss Richards,” Miss Fitzroy breathed, a look of awe on her plain face. “You are brave.”

“Nonsense,” Felicia replied, checking the irritation she felt at the way her one simple action had now become the focal point of conversation. “Excuse me, I will go and apologize to Lord Umber immediately, and clear his mind of the thought that you might have had something to do with it, Lord Rowbotham.” She dropped a brief curtsy and turned towards the door.

“I will escort you,” Mr. Burton said, as he followed her. “There is no need for you to put your head in the lion’s mouth without someone standing by to make sure there is fair play.”

The determined look left her face as she laughed, “I fear Lord Rowbotham has exaggerated the peril ahead. Surely no one can be that put out by a few cut orchids. It is not as though I took them all.”

Mr. Burton shook his head in mock gravity. “It is not so much the orchids, Miss Richards, even though he views them in much the same light as a servant would view a few gold guineas. No, it is more that he does not like to lose a wager. But, come, let us break the news to him and take our punishment bravely.”

As the door closed behind them, Miss Fitzroy said to no one in particular, “Whoever is she? I have never heard of a Miss Richards.”

“Some distant relation,” Lord Rowbotham said grandly, puffing out his chest importantly. It was not often that he was able to hold anyone’s attention for long, because normally he talked only about flowers. And very few of his acquaintances knew a sepal from a petal.

“Where did you get that, Cuthbert?” a Mr. Gibbons twitted. “The wisteria around the front door?”

Lord Rowbotham looked down his long nose haughtily. He was well aware that people regarded him as slightly eccentric, for the word had long since leaked out that he talked to his plants. “As a matter of fact, Lord Umber told me himself this afternoon. Didn’t mention anything about a fortune, though,” he finished morosely.

Mr. Gibbons smirked in unkindly fashion. Everyone knew that Cuthbert had to marry money. “So even though she be ripe for the picking, you have no interest. Tut! Tut! Cuthbert!”