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“Did you forget you were supposed to meet me so we could go into town and have a look at old man Crull’s new black and tan?”
Flip took his hands and shook them. “Scott!” she wailed.
He freed his hands and put his arm around her and patted her. “Eh? What is all this, monkey-girl?”
She sniffed and looked up at him. “He is coming to get me.”
“What? Who, the duke? Whatever for? After all this time? Well, upon my soul. Why? What does he want with you? I don’t think I like this. Sounds havey-cavey to me.”
“Precisely. Why would he come now, when I am so close to reaching my majority? Scott, I think he wants to marry me off. Take me to Swindon where I have no one to stand up for me and marry me off,” she said distractedly.
“By Jove. He can’t do that,” Scott objected.
“Well, he thinks he can. In his letter he says something about my being on my own and how it isn’t right and that I should be safely wed by now. I know what it is. He means to secure my fortune for one of his relatives.”
“Well, really! That is too much,” Scott exclaimed. “What the devil does he mean to do—marry you off as though you were chattel?”
“Precisely. I won’t go with him, Scott. This is my home, and he can’t make me go with him, but he says in his letter that he will dismiss my servants if I put up a fuss. He must be the most odious man alive, and why did my stepmama make him my guardian? He can’t take me off kicking and screaming, can he? But I can’t allow him to dismiss anyone of my people … Scott, I must run away.”
“Well, what suddenly got into him? Why now?”
“I told you. Maybe he thought he had time, and suddenly he realized that I am about to come of age and my fortune will be in my hands—not his.”
Scott frowned and shook his head. “Why take this tone? What makes him think you would not agree to go with him?”
“He wrote me when I first lost Mama that as soon as he could he would come and fetch me. I answered that I preferred to stay here and that I could not accept his very kind offer.”
“What then?”
“He wrote back and said that when he was ready and able he would fetch me and that he would brook no arguments,” Felicia answered on a sigh.
“Oh-ho, I can only imagine what you answered,” Scott said with a shake of his head.
“I told him that I was getting on very well and that I would not leave my home and friends, and I thanked him again.” She shrugged. “I didn’t hear from him after that, and that was months ago. Now this letter!” She dug it out of her pocket and shook it at him.
Scott took it, read it, and made a low whistle. “He doesn’t realize he is dealing with a girl who is not at all biddable. In fact, I would think even a meek sort of creature would bolt at these words. Dashed well should have given it some thought before writing such a thing. After all, you had only just lost both your parents. Seems to me to be a bit of a scoundrel.”
“I knew you would understand,” she said and sniffed.
“Why would he take you to Swindon of all the damnable places?” Scott asked in horrified accents. “Nothing there … outlandish place … it makes no sense.”
“I am of the opinion that whoever he wishes to marry me off to resides in Swindon,” Felicia said meaningfully.
“Devil you say! Fiend seize him,” Scott exclaimed.
“Says it is not to be thought of … me … here alone without protection. Says I am a wicked girl for misleading him. He says—”
“Hold!” Scott interrupted, his hand up. “How the bloody hell did he find out you are unchaperoned?” He narrowed his eyes with his thoughts. “I hope it wasn’t m’father that blabbed.”
“T’was Old Pudding Face who wrote and told him.”
“The dowager Hatfield?” he growled. “That old busybody. But … how did she know? Didn’t think she knew. Didn’t think anyone knew. Thought everyone had been diddled with that story we put about saying your elderly cousin had come to stay.”
“Hmmm …” Felicia took hold of the long strand of black hair that had blown across her face and shoved it behind her neck. “So did I, but she has stopped by more times than I can count, especially lately, asking me about my cousin and why she never sees her about.” Felicia sighed. “She must have put it all together, for she wrote to the duke and actually told him I invented a nonexistent cousin and that I am running amok. At least he says that he was told that. See …” She pointed the paragraph referring to this and then wrung her hands. “Scott, it wouldn’t be so very bad if he wanted to give me a London season, for I have always thought that might be fun, but I am sure he means to marry me off to some horrid relative in Swindon and be done with me.”
“Upon my soul!”
“You see there …” She pointed to yet another paragraph of shaky handwriting. “He says he means to arrange and secure my future. Oh, Scott … what am I to do?”
