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Chapter5
Mama sat across from me in the carriage, her gaze uneasy. “Are you certain you wish to do this, Felicity? We can simply walk inside and announce the engagement straight away. Perhaps we can curb some tongues before they wag excessively.”
“I am certain.” I fiddled with the embroidery trim on my gown’s sheer overlay. The blue flowers were meant to brighten my strawberry blonde hair, but I wasn’t sure they did much of anything at all except add great expense to an already costly gown. I hadn’t needed the embroidery, but Mama had wished for my gowns to be the best so we might escape censure from the overactive snobbery present at most Society events.
Papa watched me expectantly, and I turned my attention to him. “Does Mr. Bradwell have sufficient funds already or were you forced to supply a handsome dowry?”
“I supplied a generous amount that will remain in your name, regardless of what happens to your husband.”
“It is merely a precaution,” Mama explained. “Should your husband die suddenly, you will not be left destitute when his holdings are passed on to the next heir.”
I nodded, aware of the purpose. “James did not require any more for himself?”
Papa shook his head. “He did not want it.”
Our carriage rolled to a stop, and I followed my parents from the conveyance and into the townhouse. I had spent the duration of the day considering my situation, but still could not make sense of it. Was James related in some way to the Mr. Bradwell I met last year in Northumberland, or was it a mere coincidence that they shared a name? I had spent the previous nine months developing a tendre for my Mr. Bradwell, and recent events had forced me to put aside those feelings for the new future that loomed ahead of me. I could not reconcile the fact that I would possibly become related to the man in some way.
We stepped into the house and joined the receiving line to greet our host and hostess. The ballroom doors sat open ahead of us, orange light bleeding from the room into the corridor, and I leaned closer to my parents as we neared it.
“Do you not think it odd that Mr. Bradwell shares a surname with the gentleman who aided us when our carriage broke last year?”
Papa looked at me strangely. “Odd? That was one of the reasons I felt comfortable enough to agree to the match. We had already met a member of Mr. Bradwell’s family and the man had proved himself to be of excellent character during our ordeal last year.”
“They are related?”
“Gracious, dear, you did not know?” Mama whispered, the feather bobbing on her headdress. “The men are brothers.”
My heart dropped to my stomach, and I looked up as we entered the ballroom to find James standing squarely across from me, watching me enter the room. My shoulders immediately straightened, and I held his gaze. Brothers? They were equally handsome but looked nothing alike, apart from their dark hair. But more than half of the men in this ballroom were possessed of dark hair, so I could not be blamed for failing to see that distinguishing feature.
“Ah, Miss Thurston,” Mrs. Pickering said, curtsying to me. Her tall, white feathers quivered as she lifted her head again, and I returned the gesture. “I did not know if we would have the pleasure of your company this evening.”
“I am exceedingly glad to be here, Mrs. Pickering, and your ballroom looks simply stunning.”
The woman preened much like the bird whose feather adorned her hair, and I slipped away, followed by my parents. I wanted to test my social acceptance and prove to my parents that marriage was an unnecessary action, but I searched the room and could not find anyone who I would call a friend.
Mama came to my side, her smile nervous, as Papa slipped away to locate the card room. “I am uncertain where to go. I see a multitude of my friends, but I cannot bear to be rebuffed.”
“You will not be,” I said with more confidence than I felt. Another sweep over the ballroom, and I noted James walking toward us.
He bowed once he reached our side. “Good evening.”
I extended my hand, and he took it, laying a kiss over the back of my glove. The pressure of his lips was directly over the burn I’d received from the candle, and it stalled my breath. Had he done that intentionally? When he lifted his head, the sparkle in his eye proved that he had, indeed, known exactly what he was doing.
My spirits could not help but be buoyed from the blatant reference to the meeting which had catapulted us into this mess to begin with.
“Have you found Society to be to your liking?” he asked quietly.
“I have not had sufficient time to gauge it,” I replied. “And my mother is too afraid to do so.”
“May I have your supper dance, Miss Thurston?”
“I do not wish to cause you disappointment, Mr. Bradwell, but I feel I’ve already made myself clear in regards to my opinions about dancing.”
“And yet you find yourself at a ball.”
“Oh, Felicity,” Mama scolded softly. “You cannot refuse the man.”
“Yes,” James added with a grin. “You cannot refuse me. Besides, I believe you owe me a dance.”
