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His mother nodded. “Well, it is clean and in good repair but will need decorating, and you will need a special license.”
“Already taken care of. Felicity is of age and does not require her mother’s permission, but she will expect her mother to be present. I saw her earlier writing letters.”
After his mother’s departure, he wrote a stream of letters and orders for his staff to carry out. His steward knocked and joined him, wanting to discuss the purchase of a new bull, but was soon delegated to writing invitations to the local worthies and family friends who would expect an invite. He undertook to write the one to Mrs. Harrington himself, along with the request for a special license, the invitation to his friend, Thomas Blackwell, the Marquess of Townsend, and the detailing of the extra staff required and the necessary deliveries of flowers.
His cellars were well stocked, and he could rely on Carson to restock them after the wedding. Still, all the spare bedrooms would need cleaning and arranging for guests who would want to change into their wedding finery and possibly to stay over if they had traveled any distance.
When his sisters knocked and sought out his company, they too joined his steward in writing invitations and writing lists of those things that would need doing. His mother was busy in the stillroom, having picked lavender from the gardens to dry and distill, while Felicity took a long walk in the woods.
Thinking of her, he lowered the quill, stood, and went to the windows. Something was troubling her on a profound level. Enough so that after loving her last night, she went outside barefoot in the cold night, sat on the bench in the gazebo with her knees drawn up and sobbed. It had gutted him to see it, and Phineas did not think her happy with the decision to marry him.
He could feel her pulling away from him, and he was intimately familiar with the distance lovers placed between themselves before ending an affair. And his gut told him Felicity was planning to end their attachment.
A cold knot of dread invaded his heart. He did not want to lose her. It was one of the reasons he was taking such care with the planning of their wedding. It was not just about marrying before his grandmother passed away.If she passed away. He admitted that everything about their relationship was highly unconventional and was supposed to have been fake. But it was the most honest connection he had ever formed in his life. The most sensual. She was sweet and kind and just damn wonderful. He wanted Felicity in his life. Always.
Was it that he had not expressed his sentiments enough? Why was she pulling away?
He stiffened when she came into view. Her feet were bare, and her hair tumbled loosely down her back, but there was an air of melancholy about her. A knock on the door pulled his thoughts from her, and with a sigh, he got down to business once Carson admitted the curate.
Phineas rodehis stallion across the lanes of his home in a flat-out run, the wind whipping at his collar. The sense of freedom urged him onward, and he soared over a bale of hay, landing with a jarring impact. He gently reined in his beast who loved the ride as much as himself and stared at the back of the carriage crawling along the rutted road, taking Felicity away to town.
After he had finished making the wedding arrangements with the curate, she had entered his library with that air of distraction about her. As if something weighed heavily on her thoughts.
“I need to return to town briefly.”
“Will you return?”he’d demanded gruffly, not liking the feeling of uncertainty winding through him.
There had been the slightest hesitation that had pierced his chest with something cold. She had padded over to him, cupped his jaw between her chilled hands and kissed his mouth in a passionate, lingering kiss. Then she’d simply said, “Yes.”
Phineas hadn’t demanded any reasons beyond what she was willing to give, suspecting that she needed space to think. He had made suitable arrangements for her to return. Then he had spent the night loving her with a fieriness that had even shocked him. Felicity had not shied away from his ardor but had given herself to him with unreserved, tempestuous passion.
At one point, when she had snuggled into his arms, he had heard her whispered words of love. The feeling that had blasted through his heart had been one of elation, but when he had shaken her awake and demanded her to repeat what she had murmured, his lover had merely told him should he disturb her sleep again, she would kick him from her bed.
Phineas chuckled, recalling the scene with some fondness, then he sobered. The carriage had barely departed from the estate, and the place already seemed different. Less bright. Less alluring. Simply less wonderful. With an almost irritated scoff at his newfound sentimentality, he wheeled his stallion toward the open fields and urged him into a flat run.
If she chose to stay in town and never return, the choice would be hers, and he would simply pluck another bride from the ether to make his nanna happy.
Lies, his heart whispered, and with an inner smile, he admitted that he truly would not let her go.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
The carriage ride from Hertfordshire to town had taken a long day with an overnight stay at the most reputable of inns. Phineas had sent her in one of his most luxurious carriages and a plethora of servants to protect her on the journey with instructions to follow her orders and do whatever she wished to ensure her comfort. As used as Felicity was to traveling alone, she thought it all rather excessive but had been warmed by his evident care and attention.
Upon arriving in town, she instructed the coachman to deliver her to 48 Berkeley Square. It was late, after nine in the evening, and most of the members might be at some ball, considering the season was in full swing. Still, she felt as if she needed the comfort of the club, even if she found no answers within. After handing over her bonnet, gloves, and traveling cloak, Felicity padded down the long hallway. She had directed Katy, the maid who had been tending to her needs while at the earl’s home, to the kitchens where she could wait in comfort for her. She was about to walk up the stairs to the second floor when laughter spilled from an open door down the hall. Felicity smiled, recognizing the duchess’s airy, tinkly chuckle. She went down to the drawing room, which held their large wager board mounted on one wall and lightly knocked.
“Felicity,” Theo cried, waving gaily, her cheeks flushed. “We thought you were out of town.”
“I traveled up to see mama and take her back with me,” she said with a smile.
“I suspect an intriguing tale in this,” Lucinda said from where she reposed on a chaise, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and her bare feet curled beneath her legs. “We heard from Frederica that you were to be a guest of Lord Wyndham and his mother at Chancery Hall.
Lucinda herself seemed tipsy, and it was then Felicity noted the decanter of amber liquid between the ladies. Theodosia waved her over to sit on the sofa beside her, and toeing off her boots, Felicity went with a deep sigh.
“Tell us,” Theo said, uncurling from her indulgent repose, her mass of golden-brown hair rippling down her shoulders to settle at her lower back. “You seem very disconcerted.”
Lucinda hurriedly poured Felicity a glass of sherry, and she took a careful sip, recalling how outrageous she had been the last time she drank. “The earl asked me to marry him.”
“That is wonderful,” Theo cried.
