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Chapter Fourteen
“Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to take a carriage, Perdie?”
Felicity took the front steps of the townhouse at a quick pace to come abreast with Perdie at the bottom. Perdie paused to check that the ribbons of her bonnet were secure and give her friend a moment to catch her breath.
“I thought you’d be sick to death of carriages by now,” she quipped. “Besides, it’s an uncommonly lovely day, and the walk isn’t far. We don’t have to hide our trips to 48 Berkeley Square anymore.” She gave Felicity a conspiratorial grin. “The duchess…” It still tickled her to know Theo was now her sister-in-law. Lady Theodosia—now the Duchess of Hartford, since she and Sebastian had wed by special license before Perdie had returned to London with her mother, leaving them time alone—had been vociferous in welcoming Perdie back to the club.
“The duchess has welcomed me back into the fold and with a very pretty apology too.”
Although her companion was at first hesitant, a smile teased the corners of her lips too. “I suppose I could do with the exercise.”
Perdie beamed. She felt as if the entire day was ahead of her. Today she would just mill with the other ladies of the club, laughing and chatting. Boxing lessons were being kept, but she was not feeling up to the vigorous sport. Even though perhaps that was what she needed to sleep at night.
It was impossible to do so. Because of him. Thaddeus. No! I will not think of you. You cannot steal the day as well, you blasted man. You already own the night when you steal into my dreams with your brogue, laughter, and kisses.
“We should get going, Felicity!” Perdie said, shoving Thaddeus from her thoughts.
She was determined to be happy and productive today. At least until a thundercloud in the shape of a phaeton and pony team pulled up in front of her townhouse and stopped. The horse nearest to her stamped and snorted at the heavy hand of the driver.
Lord Owen hadn’t changed. He tugged to straighten his cuffs and gave her a cheerful smile.
“Lady Perdita, I was overjoyed to hear that you are back in town. I do hope your cousin is getting on well?”
She had been back for several days. Just her rotten luck to encounter him now. Lord Owen looked at her like a man who had not been rebuffed mere weeks ago. He looked at her as though they had never had that conversation in the garden at all. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, today in a burgundy coat over buff breeches. His topper sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over the top of his forehead that didn’t fall into his eyes. He stepped down from the carriage and tossed the reins toward the nearest servant.
To him, the nearest servant happened to be Felicity, though holding this man’s horses was far beneath her station. But his hauteur made apparent his disdain for servants; a thing Perdie hadn’t noticed before. Felicity fumbled to catch the reins, giving the horses a wary eye when they stamped again.
Perdie wanted to sail past him and carry on. Instead, to save her friend, she said, “Felicity, I think we will take the carriage after all.”
With a look of gratitude, Felicity promptly dropped the reins in the middle of the street. “I’ll see to it.”
Head ducked and cheeks flaming with anger or mortification—perhaps both—Felicity scurried up the stairs to fetch a runner to the mews.
Perdie reminded herself to act like a lady. It was the only reason she didn’t slap Lord Owen’s face for the way he treated her friend. How could she ever think she loved him.
“I wish to speak with you, Perdita. It is important.”
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, her gloves obscuring her white-knuckled grip.
“I know my brother paid you and your father a visit, Lord Owen. We have nothing to speak about.”
He seemed undaunted. When his horses danced in place but made no bid for escape, he turned back to her with a winsome smile and left the beasts unattended. “Where did you go? I do not believe that balderdash about an ill cousin.”
“It is none of your business.”
Your mother wrote to me, of course. She knew how dreadfully worried I was when you left London all of a sudden, especially considering our last conversation.”
“So you do recall the conversation we had.”
For a moment, his friendly veneer slipped. Beneath it was the look of a lost puppy. “Of course I do, Perdie. You were upset.”
“I called off our engagement. I no longer wish to marry you.”
He flinched. His mask returned, and for a moment, he looked like every other bored, debonair dandy in the ton. “We had a small misunderstanding, but I’m certain we can come to terms.”
“I’m certain that we can’t.”
“Don’t be like this, Perdie.” She couldn’t tell if the edge to his voice was born of anger or desperation. She didn’t care for either.
