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“That is so very sad.” Felicia frowned over this information. She looked across at the woman who would one day be queen and felt a stab of pity for her. The duke’s hand went comfortingly down her arm and took her hand.
Reinhart, Felicia saw, had opened his eyes wide to stare at them, but at that moment Freddy appeared at the box, laughing amiably at something his wife had said as he stepped aside to allow her to enter.
Reinhart bowed himself off, and when Freddy made an odd sound his wife remarked, “Dearest … you don’t like Reinhart, do you?”
Felicia knew that Freddy, a large and jovial man of few words, would not really respond to this, and he didn’t, saying only, “Who said I didn’t like him?”
Daffy said, “I know you, and I know you don’t seem to like him.”
“But why doesn’t Freddy like him?” Felicia asked and laughed at Freddy’s expression.
“Quite another story, and even I don’t know the whole,” Daffy said.
“Let us hear it,” the duke stuck in. “I know I am much interested, for Freddy has a good sense of things.”
“Not now,” Freddy stuck in. “It is my story, and I don’t mean the young ladies in our care to know it.”
“Nonsense, Freddy,” his wife said and laughed. “It is time you told me the whole as well, especially if he is going to be forever hanging out for our Felicia.”
“No, it ain’t the time,” Freddy returned and set his lips.
* * *
The curtain started to rise, which saved Freddy some verbal battering. However, the duke, for one, resolved to have an answer on this score. If Reinhart meant to foist himself in Felicia’s way, he would know more of him. Not that Reinhart stood a chance. In the end, there was only one man he meant for Felicia to have, and once she had a choice … well, he hoped it would be him.
~ Twenty-Seven ~
THE EVENING HAD been perfection, Felicia thought as she slipped off her cloak and let it drop on a library chair.
“Do you stay, Glen?” Daphne asked lightly.
“For a moment or two,” the duke answered and followed Freddy to the sidebar where he was pouring two snifters of brandy.
He took the glass and a sip as he turned, and Felicia purposely found his gaze and held it. What was he thinking, she wondered. Did he want her? Was he thinking of the night they shared? Did he love her?
He was ever so attentive and protective, but was it because he was her guardian? Or was she correct in thinking it was more, so much more?
A servant bobbed a curtsy and asked if her lady needed refreshments brought in. Daffy smiled and told her no but asked if Cook was still up and about.
“Aye, she is,” said the young maid.
“Then I will go to the kitchen. I need a word with her. There is so much we need to do before Miss Felicia’s ball … there, run along and I will be there presently.”
“I’m coming to the kitchen with you,” announced Freddy, throwing down his drink. “Always something good to bite into there, and I’m hungry. That rubbish they serve at Almack’s leaves me famished.”
Daffy smiled at her husband but eyed her brother with a raised fine brow. “I t
hink I will turn in after I speak with Cook … and suppose you won’t keep your ward too long?”
Felicia watched their exchange of facial expressions and laughed out loud. “Are you worried that your rogue of a brother will seduce me in your library?”
“Felicia!” Daffy said in shocked accents and turned back to her brother. “You won’t, will you?”
He laughed. “As much as I want to, no … I won’t.”
“Now, Daffy, you have gone and ruined my fun,” Felicia said.
Freddy barked a laugh and put an arm around his wife, saying within earshot, “He may be her guardian, but I’ll warrant he means to be more.”
