The last thing she’d ever do was let her brother down. He was happily married now, but before that, he’d spent years sacrificing for Felicity. The first promises they ever made had been to each other. The kinds of lives they’d live if the opportunity ever arose.
This was opportunity rising. She couldn’t let Cole’s sacrifices be for nothing.
“There you are,” said a cheerful voice. “The loveliest lady in the ballroom. Lady Felicity, may I have this dance?”
Of course he could. Lord Raymore was the reason she wasinthis ballroom.
She couldn’t let herself forget.
At her brother’s encouraging smile, Felicity gave the marquess her hand and let him lead her before the orchestra.
The music began. A waltz.
Her shift itched. The stagnant air was unbearable and her layers of skirts far too heavy. She wished she were wearing trousers. No, she wished she were wearing breeches. They were half as long as trousers, and in this ballroom soup, she’d take any relief she could get.
Except there were no more breeches in her future, were there? Just thousands more balls just like these, her clothing growing stiffer and less airy every year as she aged into a respected old matron.
A respected old matron with the bottomless purses of the ton at her beck and call.
There were children out there with no fresh clothing at all. Felicity had once been one of them. “Forced to marry a rich marquess” was hardly an impressive sacrifice if it meant keeping her vow to do everything in her power to help others.
“Your brother tells me you’ve a passion for charitable works.”
This particular personality quirk had sent half a dozen spendthrift suitors running. Lord Raymore’s eyes were kind; his voice interested. He wasn’t disappointed. He was delighted.
“I’d like to start a foundation.” Her legs wobbled nervously. She’d never admitted her goal aloud to anyone but Cole and Giles.Donating spare coinwas a far cry fromrunning a charitable organization. “I’ve never managed one before, but…”
Lord Raymore didn’t scoff. He smiled instead. “As it happens, I have a bit of experience in that regard myself. The Children’s Circulating Library now runs like clockwork, but in the early days—”
“You’rethe anonymous benefactor behind the library?” Felicity blurted.
Hester donated to that cause. So did Lady Donnell, Lady Mortram, the Earl of Fortescue, and countless others.
Lord Raymore’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Slightly less anonymous now that I’ve toldyoumy secret, but yes. That’s one of my projects. I dislike being in the public eye, but I am passionate about improving the lives of children. Tell me about the foundation you’d like to start.”
The words tumbled from Felicity’s mouth of their own accord. Raymore listened attentively, interrupting only with insightful questions and thoughtful suggestions.
If she married him, there would be no need to spend the rest of her life wheedling every penny out of him. The marquess was not only already willing to do everything Felicity dreamed, but also possessed the means and status to make the rest of the ton follow his lead.
This was it. Mission accomplished. Success was in sight.
So why did it feel like her heart was breaking?
