She would compliment the gardens, she decided, but in a light, casual, general sort of manner.
Yes, that might work.
“Welcome, welcome!” chirped a bird-like woman standing at the top of the steps, smiling. She was young-looking for a woman of her age – Felicity assumed that she was the new earl’s mother – and dressed well and fashionably. Lucy stood beside her, and Felicity was relieved that her face looked smooth, calm, and content. Not at all as if she was being locked in her room and treated like a burden.
“I am Mrs Langley,” the woman said, smiling. “Arthur is my son. Lord Lanwood, that is. I’m afraid he’s a little indisposed at the moment, but I hope he’ll join us soon. What a pleasure to meet you all!”
Introductions went around, with Daniel riding up at the perfect moment to join them. It was all very smooth and polite, and Mrs Langley chattered along so easily and in such a friendly manner that Felicity felt at ease soon enough. She watched the tension leak out of her mother’s spine as she laughed at Mrs Langley’s comments.
“Come along, come along,” Mrs Langley said, good-humouredly herding them along a passage which Felicity recognized as leading to the good parlour.
“If you don’t mind, Beatrice, Felicity and I will take tea in my parlour,” Lucy spoke up, taking Felicity’s hand. “We haven’t seen each other in so long.”
Mrs Thornhill frowned, but before she could voice an objection, Mrs Langley gave a tinkling laugh.
“Oh, of course, Lucy! How thoughtless of me, I never rang for tea in your parlour!”
“Not to worry, Beatrice. We’ll see you soon.”
Lucy looped her arm through Felicity’s and led her away.
“Is it the same room you had when your father was alive?” Felicity asked in a low voice.”
“It certainly is,” Lucy said, grinning. “I have just as much space in the house as I did when Papa was here. More, almost – Arthur took it into his head that I should have a private study, too, and had one of the storerooms converted. It’s a lovely little place, although I never use it.”
“So they’re… they’re kind to you?”
“Very kind. Ah, here we are.”
Felicity knew Lucy’s parlour like the back of her hand. It was a small room, white-painted, furnished for comfort rather than style. A little fire was burning in the grate, and Lucy threw herself into a comfortable, well-worn armchair.
“It seems like forever since we’ve had guests,” she said, with a sigh. “A lifetime ago. What have I missed?”
Felicity blinked down at her friend. Lucy lifted an eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. You just seem so… so…happy.”
“Would you rather I be in floods of tears? I can assure you, I’ve shed plenty of tears for Papa.”
“No, no, of course not! It’s just… well, this must be difficult for you. Living here, with them.” Felicity sank down into a seat, shaking her head. For the first time, she realized just how bone-tired she was. “Mama is trying to pressure me into marrying. She threatened to take away my books.”
“Oh, that’s horrid!”
Felicity shrugged wearily. “There’s not a great deal I can do. She told me what it’s like for an unmarried woman as she gets older. She held you up as an example.”
Lucy bit her lip, looking away. Felicity cursed herself for being so thoughtless.
Mama was right,she thought sourly.I never do look before I leap.
“Lucy, I didn’t mean…”
“No, no, I’m not upset. The truth is, Mrs Thornhill isn’t wrong. I don’t have a great deal of money. I lost my father, which was awful enough, but I lost my protector, too. But I’m no pauper, Felicity. I’m not alone in the world. I’m fortunate that Arthur and Beatrice are so kind. She has no daughter, you see, and likes to pretend that I’m hers. I can scarcely remember my mother, but I like to imagine she was like Beatrice. Arthur supplements my allowance and has doubled the portion I’ll get if I ever marry. They’re good people, Felicity.”
A flash of guilt stung Felicity, and she sank lower in her seat.
“I’m sorry, Lucy. I have not had the pleasure of your company in quite some time, and now I find myself making a blunder in my attempt to reconnect with you..”
