AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Fifteen
Bartholomew’s nerves felt strung entirely too tight as he returned to the drawing room. Yes, he meant to dance with Felicity tonight, but more importantly, he wished to make things right between them.
As well as secure her promise.
As soon as the set with his mother had ended, she prompted him to find Miss Cowan and sent him on his way with words of hope in her usual brusque way. When he’d come upon her talking to Luke, he’d crept closer. Unashamedly, he’d eavesdropped. Their private discussions had sent tears into his eyes but had also lifted his heart, swelled it until it had broken free from the remainder of the walls he’d built around it. When she’d hugged Luke to her, Bartholomew had nearly wept, but he’d mastered the emotion enough to announce himself.
In that one moment, he knew beyond a doubt he wanted Felicity in his life and by his side until he drew his last breath. Convincing her might not be as difficult as he’d first thought, but still. She truly was as stubborn as his mother had warned, which meant he had a bit of a climb to accomplish, but as she’d said to Luke, tonight was fraught with magic and faith. For the first time in his existence, he planned to take both in hand as tools to win the dream he’d persisted in having—and ignoring—for too many years.
The one fly in the ointment had been when he’d said goodnight to his mother when she’d retired. Mild panic had reflected on her face, for she’d found the letter Felicity had left on her nightstand giving her resignation. The silly widget had cited emotional upheaval and not wishing to disrupt the everyday workings of the Grayson family, even went so far as to say she wished to explore a career beyond caretaking.
“You must make this right,” his mother had said with a fair amount of urgency in her voice. “Now more than ever I’m convinced she’ll make you the perfect wife, but this,” she’d waved the letter, “is disconcerting.”
“She’s frightened and perhaps still bedeviled at me, but I’ll talk to her,” he’d assured his clearly anxious mother. “All will be well on Christmas morning.”
Bartholomew hoped that promise proved true, but as he scanned the occupants of the drawing room, the hope in his heart began to flag. Where the devil was she?
As the longcase clock that rested in the corridor outside the drawing room chimed the ten o’clock hour, alarm built within his chest. Had she gone back on her word and left? Then a flash of red glimmered from the corner of his eye. Slowly, he turned about. Felicity stood at one of the windows, elegant and beautiful, in her red silk gown. The green sash emphasized her narrow waist while the glass beads on the sheer black overskirt winked in the candlelight and drew his attention to the slight flare of her hips, the length of her legs. Bartholomew blew out a breath, collected his scattered courage, and then crossed the room, stopping only when he stood slightly behind her.
“Thank you for lingering. I was uncertain as to whether you’d leave before I had a chance…” A chance to change both his life and hers. To change… everything.
“I gave you my word, Bartholomew. And even if I remain quite annoyed with you, my word is a promise. I won’t break it.” Her voice sounded tired, as if she’d been over the same information in her mind for hours.
“It’s much appreciated.” What should he say that would start the conversation? To that point, this might prove the most important speech of his life. What if he mucked it up more than giving her the paperwork to buy her father’s business? Knots of worry made themselves known in his belly.
Briefly, she looked at his reflection in the darkened window glass. Outside, the slight hiss of snowflakes hitting the pane and dancing in the illumination from the gaslights on the street set an idyllic wintertime scene. Romantic, surely, and one he intended to use to full advantage… after he’d won her hand. When she turned to face him, he simply forgot how to breathe. She was gorgeous in the soft candlelight. Why the devil didn’t men see what he did when he looked at her? “You indicated you wished to talk.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” Her hair shimmered like spun gold; the dark pink of her lips looked more enhanced by the striking hue of her gown. In this light, he discerned a faint sprinkling of freckles upon her high cheekbones that had never been clear before. They were adorable. “I…” Every word he’d wanted to say flew right out of his mind. Why did he need to concentrate on something as pedestrian as breathing when he could gaze upon the lovely vision she made in crimson?
If all the angels in heaven this night had decided to dress in red, none of them would be as wonderful as Felicity in this moment.
“Captain?” She stared at him with an elevated eyebrow, and he cleared his throat.
“I do wish to talk. This is true.” The young lady at the pianoforte as well as the violinist his mother had hired struck up a few tuning chords that announced the next dance as a waltz. “However, first I’d ask you for that dance.”
“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She shook her head. “It’ll be eleven o’clock in under an hour and this evening will end. I really should—”
“Please?” Daring much, Bartholomew scooped up one of her gloved hands. “It’s quite the only reason I’m here this evening, and there’s a certain longing in your eyes that says you wish to at least indulge once.” Her fingers trembled in his, a true testament to the state of her mind.
“Oh?” Confusion clouded the rich brown depths of her eyes, but the golden flecks were not in evidence. “Your mother wants you to choose a woman to court tonight. Will you defy her wishes? She quite has her heart set on commanding your future.”
Memories of their modified waltz in this very room days ago circled about his mind like ponies on a loop. He wanted to feel that connection again, perhaps on a grander scale and in a proper waltz, if only to make her remember how good they were together.
“I have every intention of fulfilling Mother’s dreams for me, but first I want to waltz with the most beautiful woman in this room. Nothing else is as important as that.” Yes, he was confident the night would end with this woman’s promise. It was merely a game of patience and charm. Thank goodness he excelled in both, and he rather enjoyed verbal bantering with her. It was one of the things about her that had drawn his original notice.
“I see. That should be an easy feat for you. Already, women are casting looks of interest your way.” A crestfallen expression slipped over her face. When she attempted to tug her hand from his, he tightened his hold. “I shouldn’t keep you from that objective.”
“You’re not.” Everything else could go hang. Could she not realize that his attentions were firmly planted on her and would never stray? No, she probably didn’t, for the world of courtship and love were all new to her. His poor little innocent. There was so much to discover with her that he couldn’t wait to start, but first he had to win her over. With a gentle tug on her hand, he pulled her away from the window. “Dance this waltz then I promise, if you never want to see me again, I’ll let you go.”
Though his heart wildly protested that statement, his confidence knew she wouldn’t ask it of him.
“Very well.” Felicity relaxed by increments though when he found them an open spot on the floor and encouraged her to assume the proper position, her muscles were taut as if she wanted to flee. When her gaze met his and the first notes of the waltz sailed through the room, Bartholomew was once more lost.
How had he lived his life on the seas for years when this tempting bit of womanhood lingered in London, unclaimed? In all the letters he’d had from his mother that had chased him about the world, she’d always mentioned her companion. Hell, she’d even described Felicity to him on more than one occasion. Had she worked even then to match them? Yet never once had he been compelled to come home on leave and meet his mother’s companion.
More’s the pity that, for he could have had more time with her, perhaps could have even wed her by now. So much wasted time.
As he led her through the turns and dips, enjoyment lined her face and lit her eyes. Each time they came back together, he used the opportunity to reel her a tiny bit closer to his body. With each movement, he legs brushed his. At every turn, her breasts touched his chest in a fleeting second. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have her to himself for an hour!
