“I’d like to review some of the men you’ve met. Mr. Chase is here to advise you on your selections.”
Felicity wanted to sink into her chair. “Oh. Well. I won’t consider Sir Elliot or Mr. Wickstone.”
“Why is that?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.
“Lucia advised me not to.”
Tristan coughed and set down his cup of tea.
“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, amusement thick in her voice. “Do I want to know why?”
“No,” Felicity rushed to say.
“I do,” Tristan said.
“If you don’t already know, perhaps your methods of inquiry need adjustment,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon returned toward him.
“I don’t think I want to use Lucia’s methods of interrogation,” he quipped.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled. “I suppose not.”
Felicity bit her lip in embarrassment. “Well, other than those two, I can’t recall any man standing out above the others.”
“You must get closer to them. You drift about but there is no conversation happening. Perhaps some of these gentlemen would be amenable to a private dinner with you. They could be invited to play for the chance, or we could have a lottery. But of course, the only winners would be men you are interested in.”
That was the problem. Felicity wasn’t interested in any man, except the one sitting next to her. The one bachelor she couldn’t have.
“Or I can arrange a private game. Something intimate if you canprovide a few names. You’ll play the game as well.”
“I don’t know how to play any of these games.”
“You can learn. You don’t need to win, Miss Brandon, you just need to pay attention to their words and actions. In fact, having them teach you to play could be quite revealing of their character.”
“Very well. If you think so,” Felicity said. She hoped her disinterest wasn’t noticeable.
“Could you make a list?”
She couldn’t. But she could ask the ladies upstairs to help her. Right now, that seemed like her best option. “Yes, madam.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded decisively. “Very good. Mr. Chase, when she completes this list, you will issue the invitations personally.”
Felicity was dismissed first, but she had to speak with him. After a moment he exited the office, a wrapped parcel in his hands. He did not see her as he passed the back stairs and Felicity had to reach out and tap his shoulder. He whipped around so swiftly she stumbled back.
“Flick, damn. I could have hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand pressed to her pounding heart. I thought you would see me or hear me.”
His eyes took her in, glowing with interest. “Did you sleep well last night?”
Felicity brushed her hair out of her face and scowled at him. “Yes, if that is really what you’re asking, but I don’t think it is.”
He smirked and folded his arms. “What did Lucia say about Elliot and Wickstone?
“Something about screaming Shakespeare when he finishes and the other smells like cheese but is good at eating? I didn’t really understand, and I don’t think I want to.”
His jaw flexed but then he burst out in laughter. “Oh, Elliot, you strange idiot.”
“I take it his behavior is odd?”
