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“That is the fault of your perception, my friend, because it is clear to all around you,” Jemima said, a touch of bitterness creeping into her tone. “Believe me when I tell you that one such as he cannot dissemble.”
“If only I had a sign,” she insisted. “An incontrovertible sign…”
Jemima took the shawl from her. Shaking out the wrinkles as best she could, with her back to the room, Jemima said, “All are working toward sorting out your father’s will. The sheer number of people devoting their energy to finding you a solution is quite an honor. Not all can count on such support in their time of need. If only all women had such a clan, willing to put all else aside for them.” She left the building and walked off.
Felicity followed and caught up to her friend. “I had already given up on the dream of a family, Jemima, after Mama died and Father lost his will to live. I had no one to speak for me, no dowry, no beauty. And after I had resigned myself to a lonely life of nothing, of emptiness, the hope roused by the terms of that will inspired me to take my talent with the horses and do something useful. And now I discover that the means to bringing my vision to fruition was a lie, a vicious lie.” She sobbed, once, and it echoed around the clearing they had stumbled into. She covered her mouth, and Jemima turned to embrace her.
“Iam sorry, I am so sorry,” Jemima whispered, tearing up. “In your words I heard only my own sad tale, and I was selfish and unkind, I am so sorry.”
“I am sorry, because while it appears I have everything now, how can I trust it? I cannot lose everything all over again, I cannot. I cannot.”
The women embraced, and Felicity wept, wept for everything, for her parents, for her lost dreams, for her unpredictable future. The wind soughed through the trees, moaning as branches scratched one upon the other; what leaves remained after a long, cold winter rustled mournfully, as though joining in with her grief. As their tears diminished, Jemima naturally had two exquisite hankies for them to dry their eyes upon. “It is a crime to use such beautiful examples of embroidery to blow my nose,” Felicity scolded.
“Mere scraps,” Jemima replied and then honked.
Felicity looked about them; as she did so, the clouds parted, and a beam of light filled the clearing, illuminating it as if by design. They were in a circle that played host to a flat stone set alone in the center. The area was cleared of all the wild underbrush that was a fixture of the park and appeared large enough to hold a multitude. Off in the distance, she could see the roof of Lowell Hall and smoke coming from its myriad chimneys; a path led out of the circle opposite to where they entered to a footbridge that bowed over a brook, and another little house stood atop yet another hill.
“This looks positively pagan.” She put her hands on her hips. “Is this where they perform their rites of Lupercalia or who knows what?”
“Felicity. I have been less than forthcoming with you, and whether it angers your betrothed or not, I must tell you I am a—” Jemima began but stopped when Felicity grabbed her elbow and pointed into the trees.
“Is that a rooster? Why in the world would a rooster be in a wood? Oh! I had the oddest dream last night, as though Noah’s ark had come to rest beneath my window rather than on Mount Ararat. And have you seen the paintings in that house? I have never seen so many renderings of animals, not lapdogs and the like, but actual wild animals, rhinoceroses and elephants—and fish. If I didn’t know better, I would think they were posing.” She shook her head. “Please, go on, Jemima, you were speaking. It’s only that I have had no one with whom to share my thoughts.”
“No, no, this is not the time to burden you with my secrets and woes,” Jemima said. “I do believe the duke will do all in his power to right every wrong done to you.”
“Has he said anything, in my absence?”
“He would hardly confide in me,” Jemima scoffed.
“What about Mr. Bates? He looked befuddled with ardor when his gaze fell upon you in the drawing room.”
“Which speaks to a lack of wit that cannot be appealing.” Jemima blushed.
“How did he know of my father’s will and my ambitions? I told no one. Well, no human.”
Jemima’s eyes widened. “I cannot think what you mean?”
“I told the big dog about my parents and the stud,” Felicity said. “I doubt he carried tales to Mr. Bates.”
“Big dog?” Jemima whispered.
“How pale you look!” Felicity exclaimed. “I came across a very large dog on my ride out, my first day in trousers. If I wasn’t sure of being called mad, I would have said he was a wolf.”
“Holy Godde—God.”
“I was perfectly safe; of course it was not a wolf. How could it be? It would not have let me near it, were it a wild animal. And yet he really was too large to be a dog. His shoulder was well above my waist. That sounds rather large for a wolf as well, does it not?” Felicity sighed. “But I admit my perceptions are muddled. I am a maelstrom of confusion, betrayal, desire…”
“Desire?” asked Jemima.
“I must not give in to this, this madness I feel for him, this need that has built and built in no time at all,” Felicity said. “That night, before Mr. Bates came in—that night, I was going to take the duke as a lover, Jem. I was going to give him everything. And I know he, and Mr. Bates, and Miss O’Mara are intent upon standing by me, but how do they know what they know? What is he not telling me?”
Jemima reached for her hand. “Once I made a choice I considered to be correct, based on propriety and society’s dictates, and now, could I do it over again, I would follow my heart. I think that once you follow your heart, it will become more whole than you could ever have imagined.”
“It is all I have to rely upon. I have no family to stand for me. Cecil wrote and has abandoned me to my fate.” She removed her cousin’s letter from one of her many pockets and handed it to her friend. “And he did so in the strangest fashion. Look, I cannot stop puzzling over it.”
Jemima scanned it quickly. “Strange, indeed. ‘Thine’ cousin?”
“And ‘la’! And what could the postscript mean? As though I should overlook his refusal to come to my aid and send him a chatty reply?”
