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“Truly, I didn’t think I needed to, for why wouldn’t she want the burden of running a failing business removed?” Carefully, he folded the papers and returned them to the envelope. Then he tossed them onto the low table. “What was wrong about attempting to do something nice for her?”
“Because you’ve no doubt frightened the hell out of her.” His mother shook her head. “It’s the only thing she has that means something, the last remembrance she has of her father, and it represents her as a person. You ran roughshod over that as if you’ve got no sense.” She pinned him with a hard glare. “And now, like a bacon-brained idiot, you’ve swooped in and taken that away from her.”
“But—”
“Put yourself into her shoes,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Miss Cowan is in a precarious spot. I know she worries about her place as my companion. That business was all she had as security for her future.”
“Yet it’s a failing business. I can turn around those fortunes with Daniel’s help.” He shrugged then lifted his hands. “Why did that send her into a rage? It’s all to the good, and if she’d bothered to read the paperwork, I’m buying it for more than it is worth. Those funds will secure her future better than continuing to nurse an ailing business.”
“You are truly your father’s son.” His mother blew out a breath. She narrowed her gaze on him once more. “She’s upset because you never talked to her about your plans. Beyond that, unless I miss my guess, she’s half besotted with you and had hoped you might wish to secure her future quite differently. But instead, you’ve mucked everything up, and took away her identity besides. I’m not certain you can unravel this tangle.”
Shock tightened his chest. “Felicity is besotted? With me?”
“I didn’t raise you to be so slow in the head, boy.” His mother harrumphed. “Do you think I’ve worked this hard during the holiday season for you to thwart my efforts at putting you and her together?”
“What?” Bartholomew gawked as too many emotions battered his insides to focus on just one. “You’ve been manipulating the situation in order to match us?”
“Don’t mount your high horse with me, young man.” She shook a forefinger at him. “My crimes here are not as egregious as yours. Besides, how else was I to throw the two of you together when you’re both so damned stubborn? I knew you would suit long ago, when Miss Cowan first came into my employ.”
How the deuce had he come to this pass? Was his life no longer his own? Were the feelings he held for Felicity not real but orchestrated by his mother? He shoved a hand through his hair, and needing to move, he took to pacing in front of the fireplace. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’d best be thinking of how to apologize,” she countered and took up her knitting once more. “The girl wouldn’t be so incensed with you if she didn’t feel something for you. Lord knows you’re probably the reason for her recent distractions.” Then his mother pointed a knitting needle at him. “Perhaps what you need to do is puzzle out how you feel about her. That’s the crux of your problems, and once you do, you’ll have your answer.”
“My answer?” When had he become such a nodcock that he couldn’t follow a simple conversation?
“Yes, to why you decided to buy her business in the first place.”
“Why.” It wasn’t a question. Bartholomew rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Why.” Because he’d wanted to alleviate her burden, to help her see that her future needn’t be a scary, looming horror, to give her the option of being courted without having the threat of an income looming over her. “I…” He stared at his mother as a new thought dawned on him, one that sent gooseflesh sailing over his skin and a vice squeezing about his heart. “I suppose when it comes down to brass tacks, I love her, Mother, and that’s the beginning of everything.” Awe came sailing in behind the admission and helped to ease the anxiety around uttering those words.
“Ah, there, was that so difficult?” For the first time in a long while, his mother grinned with genuine pleasure. “Miss Cowan is a good woman. She has so much love to give but nowhere to put it.” A twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I’ve seen how the two of you watch each other when you think no one is looking.” A chuckle wheezed from her. “Now that you’re not hiding behind bitterness, you have to tell her how you feel before she does something dramatic.”
“Why would she? Once her anger with me clears, she’ll be in a better frame of mind.”
His mother snorted. “She’s about as obstinate as you, son. And she holds a grudge like a champion. No doubt you have much work ahead to convince her, which is exactly what I’d hoped to avoid once you and she finally became friends.”
“Well, damn.” He rested a fist on the mantle. “Not only that but I’ve told her a couple of times I wouldn’t find myself engaged a second time.” Had those words worked with everything else to form a perfect storm? “To say nothing of the fact I’ve more or less compromised her…”
“Oh, Bartholomew, I raised you better than that.” Annoyance echoed in his mother’s voice. “Best figure out a plan then. When she’s in a temper, she’ll stay there for days, and I don’t want my ball ruined.”
“Right.” But he had not a blessed clue how to make things right. He’d well experienced her anger already. “Do you think she’ll see me if I went up there right now?”
“Ha!” His mother cackled with apparent amusement. “She’s liable to throw things at your head. Best leave her to stew. I’ll talk to her tomorrow but expect the silent treatment. I’ve lived with her for over three years, and you’ve wounded her deeply, betrayed her trust, disappointed her. Your best bet is to try and charm her at the ball.”
That was two days from now! Could he let things fester between them for so long? “Will she come around, do you think?” It wasn’t ideal, but he’d monitor the situation. If Felicity seemed open to talking, he’d do it. “I… I can’t lose her, Mother,” he admitted in a low voice. He needed Felicity in his life in all the ways that mattered. “Not now that I’ve realized I’ve been so completely wrong about matters of the heart.”
“Of course you have.” She shook her head. “The women with tempers are always the ones who will be true and love deeply. Don’t despair, but flowers and candy don’t hurt either.”
“I’ll shower her with gifts every hour if she requires it, but I’m not going to arrive at Christmas Day without securing her promise.” Dear God, please let that be true. “Uh, does she know you’ve manipulated her into my path?”
“Absolutely not.” His mother exchanged a sheepish glance with him. “When she discovers my deception, I’ll be the one in direct path of her ire.”
Bartholomew snorted. “If I manage to win her regard again, I promise not to say a word.”
“Perhaps that’s best. She’s quite the harridan when she wishes, and here I thought she’d always be content to remain a wallflower.”
That made him grin. “Oh, Felicity is much too strong-willed for all of that.” And every day that passed showed him another facet to her personality.
“Don’t I know it? It was one of the reasons I wanted her for you.” She waved her knitting needle. “Now, don’t muck this up more than you already have.”
“It’s the season of miracles, Mother. Perhaps I’ll have that on my side. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a plethora of errands to attend.”
And a plan to make in putting himself back into Felicity’s good graces.
