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“Miss Cowan could command the same admiration regardless of what color she wears if men would but open their eyes.” Was that a trace of jealousy in the captain’s voice?
Felicity wasn’t certain, but her heartbeat accelerated all the same. Perhaps she’d misjudged him, yet his intention to buy her father’s business was poorly done indeed. “Enjoy your dance, Captain Grayson.” She didn’t promise to meet him, nor did she promise to let him explain why he’d done what he had. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Her decision to leave the household had been made. That wouldn’t change. If he didn’t respect her enough to let her learn how to fix her own mistakes, she couldn’t linger, especially when being in such close proximity to him nearly addled her mind. His kisses had been wonderful, but she refused to give him anything else without a plan of some kind.
She wasn’t the sort to let a man use her and then toss her away. There might not be a dowry on her head, and she might have nothing else to recommend her, but she did have her pride and she had belief in herself. No man should have the right to take it all from her before she could prove herself. Couldn’t he understand she merely needed training and instruction?
Panic roiled in Bartholomew’s eyes as his mother tugged attempted to tug him away. “Will you attend the remainder of the evening?”
“If there’s reason enough for me to linger, and honestly, thus far I haven’t seen such.” Would he take the hint?
“I’d like the chance to take you out onto the floor.”
Felicity shrugged. A ball of tears crept into her throat. “Perhaps you’ll be fortunate.” But she refused to go out of her way to earmark time for him, not after what he’d done.
Then he was gone and obliged to take up a position on the makeshift dance floor with the several other couples.
For long moments, Felicity watched them while the country reel got underway. He was such a caring and devoted son, and with Luke he would be an exceptional father. A wad of tears rose once more into her throat. After three years, she would miss Mrs. Grayson and her abrasive way of interacting with people. She would miss Luke even though she didn’t know him all that well yet. And if she were honest with herself, she would miss Bartholomew most of all. Yes, he’d only come into her life naught but a week prior, but they’d had a connection, a friendship, an understanding, or so she’d thought, until he’d yanked the proverbial rug out from beneath her feet.
As her eyes welled with tears, she turned away from the gay gathering where colorful skirts twirled and bounced, and laughter filled the air. A world where spirits flowed freely, and the merchant class mixed with the lower levels of the ton. No matter that she’d attired herself in a magnificent gown, this wasn’t her place. Oh, Bartholomew fit in wonderfully well. No doubt he’d soon catch the eye of a young lady heiress who had her heart set on a naval hero. At the last second, she stifled a sob.
It was best that she pack her belongings and leave the house sooner rather than later. Remaining here was all too much. She could temporarily stay at the shipping office; the sofa there were serve well as a bed until she could find rooms to let, but she absolutely had to put distance between her and the captain lest he find a way around her defenses.
What would be left of her then?
Felicity fairly ran from the room and along the corridor beyond. She made it as far as the stairs when Luke stood up from the treads where he’d been sitting and called her name.
“Miss Cowan?”
“Luke!” She raised her eyebrows as surprise slammed into her. “What are you doing out here? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” The boy had donned his long sleep shirt, but he’d wound a bright red wool muffler about his neck, the one Mrs. Grayson had knitted for him. No doubt it had been a consolation prize for missing the ball.
“I sneaked down here ‘cause I wanted to see the ladies and gentlemen in their finery.” He glanced through the spindles of the staircase. “Don’t tell Mrs. Grayson or she’ll lecture me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. She’s quite enjoying the dancing.” When he looked all too sad for a boy who had the world at his feet, her heart went out to him. “Why are you so glum? It’s Christmas Eve, the most magical night of the year, or so some say.” Needing someone to talk to even if it was a ten-year-old boy, Felicity sat beside him on the stairs.
“Captain Grayson says that’s all nonsense,” he stated without preamble. He slid a sideways gaze at her that brimmed with hope. “Isn’t it?”
“Sometimes when folks grow older, they believe less and less in magic or the wonders that life can hold.” She held out a hand, and when Luke slipped his into hers, she smiled. “Perhaps that’s the trouble with adults; there’s no more magic to be found and that makes them sad and afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Oh, many things, I suppose: not having security, running out of funds, being alone, suffering a broken heart.” She shrugged. Wasn’t that what happened to her? “Life would be so much easier and lighter if we but believed in magic that much longer, enough to follow our dreams until they’re fulfilled.”
“I had a dream too.”
“That makes me glad. Has it come true yet?” Every child should have a head full of hopes and dreams. Would this boy never give up on that faith he carried.
“Two of them,” he admitted in a whisper as he held tight to her hand. “One was to have a home and a family. Another was to have a father.”
The tears returned to her throat, and she swallowed around them. “Captain Grayson will be a wonderful father to you. I think he already loves you to distraction.”
“It makes me feel real glad here.” With his free hand, he touched the center of his chest, no doubt where he thought his heart was. “I ain’t never had a father, at least none I can remember. Used to think on the ship it might be nice if the captain was mine, but he was the captain then.”
“And now he’s not.”
“I hope I can get up enough gumption to call him father one day. Course, I still think of him as captain and that’s where my mind sticks.”
“I’m sure you’ll come to a compromise.” Felicity met the boy’s bright blue eyes. His blond hair curled in a riot about his head, and he looked so frail and small while swallowed up in the night shirt. “You’ll have a good life, Luke. The captain will see to that.”
He nodded. “I think so too.” Then he glanced at her and tossed her a cheeky grin. “You’re a real tasty morsel in that gown, Miss Cowan. I like the red.”
