Her sisters had attempted to question her about the letter from Mr. Stratton, but she had been firm in her refusal to hand it over. Valor, though, was most gratified to know that Mr. Stratton had taken her thoughts seriously and had enjoyed their conversation about the weather. Mrs. Wendover had also been sent regards, which Valor promptly informed the rabbit of, as Mrs. Wendover could not understand anybody’s words but Valor’s.
They had decided that they would take both carriages out for a trot round the park. It was early, and they would not encounter crowds. Everybody was in agreement that Felicity must have some fresh air to put the pink back in her cheeks.
Felicity was glad of it on several fronts. It was highly unlikely that they would encounter Mr. Stratton or anybody else at that time of day. Further, they had all agreed that if Mr. Strattonweresomehow spotted, the curtains to the carriage windowswere to be closed immediately. The other benefit to going out when it was not likely they would encounter anyone was that that the duke would not encounter anybody he’d like to have a set-to with. He had, perhaps, had enough confrontations for one season, though it was unlikely he viewed it that way.
Felicity wished to see Mr. Stratton, and also not see him, therefore it seemed at this moment that not seeing him was the best choice. It was as if she wished to play for time, though she could not see what benefit extra time would bring.
Before they set off, a further circumstance occurred to fluster her. Tulips arrived, addressed to her. They were not signed, but she knew instantly that tulips were sent in reference to their conversation about a lady suddenly deciding she wished to be called Tulip. All the note said was:I consulted with a florist and tulips are not likely to make you sneeze.
Even if she had not guessed they were from Mr. Stratton, she recognized his hand from the letter to Valor. Furthermore, they were red tulips. Did he send a message of love? He did not say! He only said they would not make her sneeze.
Her father found great amusement in it. “We are to be buffeted by flowers now, eh? Perhaps not very original, but tried and true all the same.”
Her father was less amused by what followed. Just as the tulips were being put in a vase, Lady Marchfield was led into the room by a rather downcast Thomas.
Felicity was certain the junior footman feared he would be blamed for letting Lady Marchfield in, though everybody knew she was very hard to keep out.
“What do you do here?” the duke asked his sister. “I thought I’d done enough to drive you off.”
Lady Marchfield sniffed. “It seems you have done enough to drive Lord Rustmont off. He’s left Town, in case you did not know it—all hope of that match has gone up in a puff of smoke.”
The duke laughed and said, “You are behind the times as usual, Madam. We were on to another match but that’s gone up in a puff of smoke too!”
Lady Marchfield turned to Felicity. “Another match? A match with who, pray?”
“Do not you interrogate my daughter, you old harridan,” the duke said. “She’s got no interest in informing you of it.”
Lady Marchfield’s eyes drifted toward the flowers. “Who sent those?” she asked, walking over to them.
Nobody answered, and Valor went so far as to slap one hand over her mouth and the other over Mrs. Wendover’s mouth to signal her refusal to comment.
Unfortunately, Thomas had left the note next to the vase.
Lady Marchfield picked it up and read it. She made a sighing sound and laid it down. “Tulips will not make her sneeze. I see we have not managed to get past the Almack’s sneezing display. It is not at all promising that it is still being bandied about like a joke and now some gentleman has been so bold as to send this.”
“You never mind what is well and what is not,” the duke said. “Now why are you here? Has Marchfield finally given you the heave-ho over the side of his ship? I told him a hundred times, when you throw her out, do not throw her toward me!”
“I have come because despite my intense disgust over my brother’s behavior, I still have a care for my niece. You are woefully unprepared to shepherd your daughter into her married life. I am holding a dinner on Thursday and have invited two unmarried gentlemen who would be appropriate in station and breeding. Felicity is invited, and you certainly are not.”
“What say you, Felicity?” the duke said laughing. “Care to enter the dragon’s lair alone?”
Felicity hardly knew what to say. While her father’s teasing of her aunt was endlessly amusing, and she really did find LadyMarchfield too stern for anybody’s good, she did also have a certain respect for the lady as a senior relation.
Lady Marchfield crossed the room and held her hands. “Felicity, while I am not so freewheeling as my brother, I have a deal more sense. Furthermore, I have your interests at heart and one cannot be certain your father even has a heart. It is one dinner, and I am asking you to attend.”
Felicity glanced at her Papa. He good-naturedly nodded. “Go on, girl, see what delights Lady Misery has in store for you. We will all be vastly entertained to hear of it.”
Felicity nodded her acquiescence, and it was settled. She would go to her aunt’s house for dinner on Thursday. She supposed it would be tedious, but she also supposed Mr. Stratton was not one of the gentlemen her aunt had invited.
It was hard to say if that was a welcome idea or not.
Just then, Mrs. Right bustled in, tying her bonnet. “The carriages are outside,” she said. The housekeeper noticed Lady Marchfield and frowned.
“Very good, Mrs. Right,” the duke said. “Well, Lady Misery, I would invite you to come along on our sojourn to the park, but sadly there is no more room—goodbye!”
Lady Marchfield glanced at Mrs. Right, and then an idea began to dawn. “Roland, you cannot be serious.”
“I try not to be, though it’s a heavy slog up a steep hill with you hanging about the place,” the duke said with a snort.
