Page 66 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

The worst thing she could think of in that moment was Edward’s missing son. She had thought on the boy’s fate several times, but she had not dared broach the subject with him again. How could she? It was such a private thing. Having a child out of wedlock was an enormous scandal for all but the highest of classes. Those with money and power, the royal princes included, propagated without care for the legality of the child’s birthright.

But for someone like Edward? He would have to handle the situation delicately.

And what of the boy himself? A boy, to be sure, but given the distance of time, surely almost a man. Would he want a father who had known nothing of him for nearly his whole life? Would he be angry? Did he even know his true parentage?

It was all quite complicated, and Edward had no one to share that burden with. No one except his hired investigator and her.

She would speak to him. Tonight: she had to. Edward needed to know he wasn’t alone.

Of course, he might have said she spent too much time looking after everyone, and perhaps she did. But she did not begrudge the people she loved a single moment of her time. And Edward…

She did not begrudge him those moments, either.

* * *

The carriage ride home was silent, weighted in a way that made Edward uneasy. Daphne sat opposite him, her weary head resting on her aunt’s shoulder, her gaze drifting out the window. She seemed composed, but he knew she was still turning over the events of the evening.

Felicity, on the other hand, was not watching the passing streets. She was watching him.

Edward knew she had noticed his distraction. He had felt the weight of her gaze all night. Though she had not yet pressed him for answers, he knew her well enough to know that soon enough she would. He nearly smiled at the thought of their future tête-à-tête, already picturing the stubborn tilt of her chin when she demanded to know where his thoughts were.

What would he tell her?

He hadn’t the faintest idea.

When the carriage finally rolled to a stop, Edward stepped out first, offering Daphne his hand before doing the same for Felicity. He expected the older woman to release him immediately, to follow her niece upstairs and help the younger woman prepare for bed as usual, but she lingered a moment longer, fingers cool against his palm. He swallowed against the warmth that flickered at the contact, ignoring it as he turned toward the house.

Then Felicity’s voice stopped him. “Daphne, go inside and head upstairs. I will be in shortly.”

Daphne hesitated long enough to glance between them, her sharp mind no doubt piecing together the unspoken tension. She gave a knowing smile and did not argue. “Good night, Aunt Felicity. Good night, Colonel.”

Edward inclined his head in response, waiting until she had definitely disappeared inside before looking at Felicity. The carriage pulled away, leaving them alone in front of the house, the evening air a cool relief from the insipidity of the carriage. He already knew what she would say before she spoke.

“We need to talk.”

Edward exhaled slowly. “Felicity⁠—”

“No. Not later. Not tomorrow. Now.”

He hesitated, studying her in the dim lamplight. There was no use delaying the inevitable—and there was that tilt to her chin he had anticipated. How had he come to know her so well?

Without a word he turned and strode inside, leading her through the quiet corridor to his study.

The room was dark, save for the glow of a single lamp on the mantel. He lit its mate on the other end, the light flickering over the edges of the room. He did not look at her. Instead, he moved to the lamps near his desk, lighting them one by one.

“Edward, please.” Her voice was softer now, but no less insistent.

He hesitated. “I am thinking how to begin.”

She snorted. The beautiful, charming woman, snorted. It nearly made him smile until she said, “You are stalling.”

Apparently, Felicity had grown to know him quite well, too.

Edward sighed, running a hand along the edge of his desk, his back still to her. He did not want to do this now. Not while his thoughts were still out of order, not while the weight of Blackstone’s warning sat heavy in his chest.

He heard her soft approach, the slippers on her feet whispering against the rug. “You do not have to protect me from whatever this is.” Her words landed harder than he expected. He tensed, fingers curling slightly against the wood of the desk. “Tell me what is wrong,” she said again, quieter this time. “Please.”

“Captain—Felicity. It is not so simple.”