Page 36 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

A few nervous laughs sprinkled the air. The tension in the group did not vanish, but it eased. At least a little.

For the first time in longer than he cared to remember, Edward Halstead rolled up his sleeves and prepared to play.

Chapter Twelve

Spending three days in bed while sneezing, coughing, and feeling as though someone had stuffed her head with cotton had not made Felicity any more mild a person than she had been before her cold. She knew this about herself. Though she did her utmost to care for others when they were ill, she found it insupportable to be the one needing the same sort of care.

So as she walked through the house, gray shawl wrapped around her black dress, she felt like a storm cloud as surely as she must have the appearance of one. Confined to the indoors, sleeping at odd intervals, her head aching and her limbs chilled, her mind had not found much for easy distraction. She blamed her cold and that state for the odd dreams she had experienced.

Several of them about Colonel Halstead.

“He has no business barging in where he doesn’t belong,” she muttered as she descended the stairs to the ground floor, where he kept his study. “Not in my dreams nor Daphne’s outings.”

Horrid man. Daphne had told Felicity all about the garden party and his insistence on joining the game of lawn bowling. What had he been thinking, intruding in that way? Had her niece not possessed such a compassionate soul, she likely would have expressed more annoyance and dismay at the circumstance.

Despite the lingering effects of her cold, Felicity could stand it no longer. She had to speak to him, and the invitations arriving every day were as good an excuse to seek the man out as any.

Not that she truly needed an excuse—but it felt better to have a sheaf of papers in her hand to shake at him the moment she saw him.

Felicity entered the quiet corridor leading to Halstead’s study, but she did not realize the door to that room was open until she was nearly upon it. A voice drifted out from within, unknown to her, but masculine.

“—I have found substantial information that supports this line of inquiry, sir. The letters and witness statement are promising. I think I need but another month to be certain, unless you wish me to approach directly.”

“No,” Halstead’s voice said with its usual firmness. She had to roll her eyes. Always the expert, wasn’t he? “I do not want anyone aware that I am making this search. Not until I have all the information about his present circumstances.”

“Yes, Colonel, I understand. If that is what you wish, your patience may have to stretch a little longer yet.”

“Patience. After nearly twenty years, I suppose a few more weeks or months will be nothing. It is not as though he is yet a child in need of guidance.”

He sounded so resigned in that moment that Felicity had to blink back surprise. She had never heard that tone from the Colonel. He always sounded so…so certain, so full of confidence.

“Even if you choose not to make yourself known,” the other man said, something like kindness in his tone, “in another year or two, you may change your mind. Surely you will want some sort of contact with the boy?”

When Halstead answered, he sounded tired. As though he had said these things too many times before. “I will not decide on a course of action until I have the picture in full, Mr. Wright, as we have previously discussed.”

Felicity listened, transfixed, as they discussed a budget and transportation. Her cold-muddled mind could not quite make sense of all she had heard, and she swayed slightly on her feet as she considered what she ought to do. She hadn’t ever been one to eavesdrop before. Why hadn’t she walked away? Or knocked?

Shaking her head at herself, Felicity took a step back. She glanced down the long corridor, but before she had decided to fully withdraw, she heard the other man’s voice taking his leave. She turned instinctively, heart beating rapidly, and ducked into the room across the corridor, though she had only been in that room once, and had found a poor excuse of a library within, filled with empty bookshelves and uncomfortable furnishings. A perfect place to hide, especially given the darkness inside with the curtains drawn closed.

Standing in the semi-darkness, Felicity closed her eyes and tried to sort out the conversation again. Contact him…the boy… The emotion she heard in Halstead’s voice had shocked her. He wasn’t a man prone to sentiment, that she had learned over the weeks she’d lived here—but the sorrow and restraint in his tone were unmistakable.

Here was yet another thing about him that did not quite fit with what she thought she knew. The picture of him, the details of his past, did not yet tell a clear story.

As she heard the footsteps of the visitor withdraw down the corridor, Felicity wondered what she ought to do. Did she confess to overhearing a private conversation? Slink away and pretend nothing happened?

Shaking her head, she stepped out of the darkness and crossed to the door, raised her hand to knock, and hesitated. Her plan to pester him about the invitations felt quite juvenile in that moment.

She needed to leave. Rethink things. Perhaps spend another three days abed, hiding—no, resting. Resting.

Decision made, Felicity turned to go—and the door to the study opened at the same moment.

The Colonel stepped out, a weary expression on his face, his eyes heavy with thought and his posture less than perfect. He was in shirtsleeves again, too, looking not at all put together.

His shoulders tensed the moment his eyes fell on her. “Miss Price.” One corner of his mouth went upward. “Captain. How are you this day? You must feel somewhat better to be walking about.” The weariness melted away into something almost fond as he spoke to her, confusing Felicity all the more. “I had no hopes of seeing you today when you did not come down to breakfast.”

Her mouth opened to respond, but closed again having uttered nothing. She had expected irritation from him, given their last interaction. Not this solicitous behavior and inquiry about her health.

“I am well. Erm. Better. Better than before, I mean.” She held the invitations against her chest. “Are you in good health?”