“Don’t do anything reckless.”
“When do I ever?”
“Since she arrived? All the time.”
Tristan paused at the door. “Do you want me to win?”
“I want Miss Brandon to win. That’s the whole point of this game.”
“So do I.”
Chapter Seventeen
Felicity had tiedthe ribbons of her bonnet in knots by the time they reached Lady Amelia’s home. The hour was late, but a messenger had been sent ahead. Lady Amelia knew she was coming, and yet Felicity felt an unwelcome surge of anxiety at the prospect of arriving at such an inappropriate hour.
She was back at Alston House where this odd journey had begun, Tristan beside her. He was quiet. Not distant, but rather introspective. She wanted to ask if he knew she’d received an offer of marriage from Hugstead but was afraid of the answer. She was terrified, really, that despite their confessions this afternoon, he’d encourage her to marry another man, and she could not bear to hear it.
The carriage stopped. He reached for the door and then hesitated, looking back at her.
“I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again,” he said. Then he kissed her, cupping the back of her head, sealing his mouth to hers and stealing her breath and wits. It only lasted a moment, then he pulled away.
Tristan got out and handed her down. A footman waited at the top of the steps. The house was dark, shuttered for the evening. A lightmist fell, and the streets were dark with streaks of gold and silver. Tristan took her small trunk, and the footman unloaded the larger case.
She bit her tongue. She didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. Not ever. They hadn’t been sharing a roof at the Den, but he’d felt nearer there. Now they would be miles apart. She didn’t know how to get to the Den from here. Would he check on her daily? Would he be allowed? He wasn’t on the friendliest terms with Lord Alston.
“Is Lord Alston in residence?” he asked.
“Not at the moment, sir.”
Felicity blinked in surprise. Wasn’t he still recovering? Where could he be at this time of night?”
Tristan met Felicity’s gaze. “I’ll see you inside, and then I’ll go.”
His hesitation made her heart soar. He didn’t want to leave her. She nodded and he followed her up the stairs. The footman led her to a maid. The maid introduced herself as Matilda and said she would show her upstairs. Lady Amelia appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Miss... Brandon?” She smiled awkwardly and descended. “I’m sorry. This is strange, but we are happy to have you.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Felicity said.
Lady Amelia nodded. “And Mr. Chase, is that you? This is not a surprise, seeing you guarding Miss Brandon like the crown jewels.”
He winked at her. “I couldn’t bear to stay away.”
Lady Amelia smirked. “Just as I suspected, it would seem. I do love to be right.”
His expression blanked and then he blushed. “Well, I should be going. Goodnight, Miss Brandon, Lady Amelia.” He tipped his hat and turned, the footman closing the door behind him and locking it.
Lady Amelia snickered. “I don’t think that will keep him out. Come to the drawing room and we can chat.”
Felicity did not know what was going on, but she followed anyhow—she didn’t really have a choice. She didn’t know what to expectfrom Lady Amelia. She only knew her in a professional way as her brother’s nurse. They’d conversed very little, and this whole matter was altogether odd. Did she know the past circumstances between Felicity and her brother?
“Come sit. I’ll pour you a sherry if you like. Mrs. Dove-Lyon was abrupt in her communication, but I believe I have the whole of it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.” Felicity shook her head when Lady Amelia held up the bottle.
“You were intended for my brother, cheeky thing,” she said with a teasing smile. “Now you are once again being offered to another man.”
“He’s being offered to me. I must make a decision.”
