Page 31 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“You most certainly will not.” Felicity rose faster than her niece and placed her hand on Daphne’s forehead, testing for warmth. The poor girl still burned hotter than she ought, and her nose was an unsightly red. She was in no fit state to go out into the garden. In March? In reply to a summons? “My niece is unwell and will not be going out into the cold. I will see Colonel Halstead myself.”

The footman visibly swallowed as he bowed. “He is in the rose garden, Miss Price.”

She nodded her thanks. “Please fetch my niece more tea, and a fresh hot brick.” Then she turned to Daphne. “I will return shortly to resume our book. If you are too tired to continue, take your tea to your chamber and have a nap.”

“But Aunt Felicity⁠—”

“No.” Felicity picked up a shawl from the back of the settee and wrapped it around her niece’s shoulders. “He cannot order you about when you are unwell, Daphne. I will not allow it.” She stepped to the door and hesitated. “If it is truly a matter of great importance, you can speak with him inside the house later.”

Daphne’s expression was somewhat pained, and though it hurt Felicity to make her niece uncertain, she blew her a kiss and went out the door anyway. She made her way down the stairs, through the house, and out into the cold air. A brisk breeze immediately pushed against her, stinging her cheeks and snatching at the edges of her shawl.

As she strode toward the garden, the sharp wind biting at her cheeks, Felicity felt more than cold. She felt erased. A man she barely knew, summoning her niece as though she were nothing more than a piece on his chessboard. Like a housemaid. As if Felicity hadn’t poured years into Daphne’s happiness—as if she herself hadn’t sacrificed enough already.

Well. He would learn she was not so easily brushed aside.

“No one should be out for garden walks in this weather,” she muttered as she made her way gingerly down the damp paths to the rose garden. A rather dismal place at that time of year, given the complete lack of blooms and the small stumps belying great roses come the summer. Why would anyone wish to be in a rose garden in March?

She saw Halstead’s head over the sleeping rose bushes, his back to her, wearing his greatcoat. Of course, he had dressed for the weather. Felicity gave a small shiver as she approached, coming into the garden as he walked along one of the stone paths, bending to peer closer at a plant.

The sight of him pacing like an officer inspecting his troops increased her irritation with him, him and his summons.

“Good afternoon, Colonel,” Felicity called out to him, her voice carrying across the empty space. He stopped walking and turned to look at her with a raised brow. She kept walking until she was within six paces of him, which meant she did not have to look up to meet his gaze, making sure to halt before she stepped too close. “Ought I to curtsy or salute? I am afraid I am uncertain at the moment if you expect a lady or a foot soldier to attend you.”

His look of surprise changed to an expression which she interpreted as consternation. “I beg your pardon, Miss Price? What do you mean by those words?”

“Mean? Why, Colonel, I am merely confused. What are the rules of engagement when a commanding officer summons a woman like a foot soldier?”

Slowly, her host shook his head. “I did not summon you, Miss Price. I sent for Daphne, and when I ask my ward to join me for a discussion, I expect her to come rather than send an envoy in her stead.”

“Envoy?” Felicity laughed, trying and failing to keep back her invitation. “Colonel Halstead, you know full well that Daphne has a cold, a growing fever in fact, and should not be out in this weather.”

“A cold?” His mouth turned downward in a frown. “I was not informed.”

Felicity opened her mouth, then hesitated. Well, he had not been. She had merely leapt into action that morning, upon seeing her niece with such a streaming nose, and taken care of her.

The Colonel was still frowning. “I merely wished to see how she fared today. Your reaction to my concern is naught but an overreaction. A note would have been sufficient.”

“Or you could have come to see her.”

“I did not know she was incapable of enjoying a short time out of doors,” he retorted, voice somewhat more stern than before.

“It is a thing you would have known if you spent any time with her yesterday evening or this morning at breakfast,” Felicity argued, pulled her shawl tighter about herself as the cold seeped through the thin fabric. Why on earth had she not requested her pelisse from Peter? “If you were more attentive to her, as a guardian ought to be, you would not need to issue commands without having a full understanding of the situation.”

Colonel Halstead turned away from her, then back and came a step closer. “Miss Price, while I respect your role as Daphne’s aunt, I must ask you to remember that you are here at my home, and by my invitation. You should also remember that I am the one responsible for making decisions regarding Daphne—not you.”

Felicity’s anger bubbled upward and she took several steps closer, her chin tilting up to better look up into his sharp-eyed glare. She would not be cowed. “It is quite difficult to recognize your authority, Colonel, when you are so distant and removed from the very person you are supposed to protect.” Her voice trembled as the cold sank through her slippers. She really ought to have put on a coat before coming outside. “I recognize your efforts in Town, but while you are at home I thought you meant to get to know Daphne? How else will you know what is best for her?”

His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. When he spoke, his tone was as chilly as the weather. “You do not understand me, Miss Price. That is obvious.”

“I understand you enough to know you are exactly like your house.” She pointed to the building behind her. “You may look fine enough on the outside, but inside? Inside you are hollow. Unwelcoming. Cold.”

Halstead appeared stunned, as though her words struck him harder than she had expected. He looked over her shoulder at the house, then back at her. “What on earth does my house have to do with anything?”

“I told you before, a home reflects its master.” Felicity pulled her shawl tighter, ignoring the nudge of guilt against her conscious. Her tongue continued on, sharper than before, as it always did when her temper gained the better of her. “Your home is merely an empty shell, without warmth, without life, without a touch of beauty or comfort inside of it.”

The Colonel, clearly affected, tightened his jaw. “Miss Price. You do not know me well enough to pass such a judgment.”

Felicity lifted her chin, meeting his gaze evenly, and replied, “Nor do you know me, Colonel Halstead—or Daphne. And until you take the time to do so, I cannot see us working together for her good.”