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When she was in the captain’s company, it was so easy to forget what her existence lacked, for beneath his attentions, it felt as if the future didn’t loom quite as large or wasn’t as intimidating. Then another thought occurred that tugged the corners of her lips downward into a frown. “But if we’re being honest, I really don’t have a place here now that your son has returned home.”
“Bah!” Mrs. Grayson shook her head. She settled more deeply into the shawl about her shoulders and leaned against the sofa cushions. “He’s not as patient as you.”
Oh, but he was, for he hadn’t pushed her for more yesterday than she was willing to give. He let her experience those new sensations at her own pace. When her mind drifted back to how she must have looked laid out for his pleasure upon the desk, tingles of need raced down her spine to throb between her thighs. As surreptitiously as she could, Felicity squeezed her legs together.
“Besides,” her employer went on as if she hadn’t noticed the sudden flush to Felicity’s skin. “I want him to marry, and I usually get my way in the end. When that happens, his attention will wander from me, but I’ll still have you and all will be well.”
A sliver of jealousy sliced through Felicity’s chest, perilously near her heart. “Yes, I suppose he will need to take a wife sooner rather than later,” she said in a quiet voice. Once again, her future lurked dark and large in front of her like storm clouds, and even though sunlight streamed into the room, she shivered. “He’s quite a catch.”
“I think so too.” Why was there a touch of smugness to her tones?
“Good afternoon.” The sound of his voice caused both her eyes and Mrs. Grayson’s regard to shift to the doorway where Bartholomew sailed into the room. “How are my two favorite ladies today?” Despite the fact he was handsomely turned out in black-and-gray striped trousers, a gray waistcoat, and a black superfine jacket, the only thing Felicity stared at was the weird object in his hand.
“What the devil is that?” Mrs. Grayson asked before Felicity could formulate a question. “It’s about the angriest looking plant I’ve ever seen.”
“Something I thought would interest you.”
“I must say, Captain, it’s quite bizarre.” Unable to remain seated, Felicity left her chair to meet Bartholomew in the middle of the room if only to be in closer proximity to the man. The body of the thing was yellowish-brown with a few green streaks, and the flesh of it was made into a checker-like pattern. A sheaf of green, sturdy leaves sprouted from the top of the oval-shaped whatever it was.
“Touch it,” he invited and held the object out to her with a grin that awakened the butterflies in her belly.
When she put a fingertip to the body, she squealed and came away with a faint prick of pain while Bartholomew chuckled. “It’s almost sharp, prickly.” Again, she explored the thing he held. “The leaves are quite sturdy, and their ends pointed.”
Mrs. Grayson frowned at her son. “What is it? And where on Earth did you find such an unsightly thing?”
“It’s called a pineapple.” Again, he offered it to Felicity. “Smell it.”
Though she eyed him askance, she leaned close and took a sniff. A faint sweet aroma came from the object. “But what is it?”
“A fruit from tropical regions.” Bartholomew set the pineapple onto the low table near a floral arrangement of hothouse lilies and roses. “It’s supposedly sweet, a bit tart, with almost the mouth feel of a citrus fruit.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Felicity bounced her gaze between the odd fruit and Bartholomew’s face. “Have you ever eaten one?”
“I have not, but if you’re game, I am.” A twinkle appeared in his eyes, and if she didn’t watch herself, she’d tumble into the blue pools. “Meanwhile, perhaps Mother can have it incorporated into a floral arrangement for the dining room.”
“Where the devil did you acquire it?” Mrs. Grayson stared at the fruit as if it would suddenly sprout legs and attack her.
When the captain chuckled, the baritone sound reverberated in Felicity’s chest. “From one of my friends. He brought a crate of them back from the islands and gave me one for the interest of it.” Then he glanced at Felicity. Her breath caught, for he was incredibly handsome, with his light brown hair arranged in a popular style. “I thought to give it to you and my mother as a gift.”
Mrs. Grayson snorted. “You’ve become awfully lavish these days, haven’t you, son? Have you always been in the habit of giving gifts when it’s not yet Christmas?”
“Not until recently. Someone I know told me a lovely story about their father who had started such a tradition. It resonated with me, so I decided to take that as my own new tradition for all the happiness it imparts.” He flashed a grin at his mother while heat burned in Felicity’s cheeks.
“It is quite a lovely sentiment,” she responded in a quiet voice lest she betray that she and he had such a conversation.
He winked at her before looking at his parent again. “Besides, if it gives someone a bit of joy, where is the harm? Even you can’t deny that, Mother.”
“Piffle,” was all that lady said.
Bartholomew then placed the full of his attention onto Felicity, and her stomach executed a free fall. “How do you fare today, Miss Cowan?”
“Well enough. Thank you, Captain.”
“You seem quite refreshed. Almost as if you’re looking at things from a new perspective.”
Cheeky man. “I suppose I’m feeling the magic of the season.” Would he think their kisses of yesterday the reason for her high color? She looked past him at the doorway then wandered toward the windows, for the sunshine was tempting and she wished to feel that warmth on her skin. “Where is Luke? I’d like to spend some time with him.”
“At present, he’s a few doors down. The Ambassador to Germany has a son around his age. I thought it might be a good education for both boys to play together.”
