“Did you speak to him?” Elbows on the table, Merry leaned even closer, her tea still held in midair.
“Of course I spoke to him. As a matter of fact, I fed him. Coddled eggs and soldiers. He thought them so divine that he recited a poem about them.”
“A poem?” Merry arched a brow.
“‘Ode to the Fair Maiden’s Coddled Eggs,’ by an Importunate Breakfast Admirer.”
“You liked him.” Merry grinned. “You liked him a great deal. Should we stay home today in case he comes calling?”
Felicity bit her lip and set her chocolate down. “He only knows me as Miss Felicity, the kitchen maid.”
Merry stared at her again, sitting so still that she appeared frozen. “What?”
“He asked me my name, and I said, ‘Felicity.’”
“Conveniently leaving off theladypart?” Merry surmised.
“Yes.”
“And he did not think it unusual for a kitchen maid to be wearing such a fine silk gown?”
“It was covered by the apron I made. Unless he had happened to look at my feet, he never would have seen any part of the gown. The apron goes down to my shins because Serendipity became so infuriated when I ruined a gown with a wine sauce the week before last.”
Merry leaned back in her chair and thoughtfully sipped her tea, all the while eyeing Felicity with a plotting look. “So, he has no idea you are the sister of a duke with a fine, plump dowry. How did he treat you as a penniless maid?”
“He was very nice.” Felicity couldn’t help but sigh. Lord Wakefield had impressed her greatly. “You remember how the heroes in Fortuity’s books are always written to have those rich, deep voices thatfeellike a gentle caress? And he was so easy to talk with. It was as though I had known him forever.”
“Oh, my sister. I do believe you are smitten.” Merry straightened and fluttered a hand over the contents of the breakfast table. “Finish your breakfast so we can get to the village. Perhaps we shall see him on the green. The village council did its best to mimic Hyde Park and Rotten Row. Perhaps he chose this lovely day to promenade. Instead of the shops, shall we promenade?”
“I prefer the shops to the promenade. We shall save that for another day.” The discussion had awakened the herd of fluttering butterflies that had taken up residence in Felicity’s middle ever since meeting the earl. The breakfast she had eaten did nothing to slow the furious beating of their wings. How would the earl act when he discovered her true identity? Would last night become a precious dream never to be repeated because he would seek out her dowry rather than her?
She placed her napkin on the table. “After this discussion, I am welland truly finished with breakfast. Knowing Seri, she probably already had one of the maids fetch our gloves, bonnets, and parasols so we would have no excuse to leave them behind.”
“I am sure they are waiting on the table beside the door.” Merry placed her napkin beside her plate and hopped up from her seat, waving for Felicity to follow. “Come along now. I am eager to meet your earl.”
“He is notmyearl, and we might not even see him.” Felicity took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. The earl was probably riding. Or hunting. Or whatever it was men did to amuse themselves when not attending parties. They probably wouldn’t see him at all. Then her heart got into the inner dialogue, whispering oh so softly,I hope we see him.
She hurried along after her sister, both excited and filled with dread. Without the protection of her safe space, her kitchens, and the company of the cooks and the scullery maids, she struggled with making conversation with gentlemen. She tugged on her gloves, pulled on her bonnet that matched the delicate blue of her spencer and her muslin gown, looped the ribbons of her reticule over her wrist, and retrieved her parasol that the maid had propped against the entry hall table.
“I am ready,” she said, not feeling ready at all.
With a bounce in her step, Merry led the way out the door and down the front steps. “Seri will be beside herself when she discovers you have already met the earl.”
“You mustn’t tell!” Felicity hurried to catch up with her sister. “And do slow yourself. This is not a race. Do you wish to arrive red-faced and glistening with sweat?”
After an apologetic nod, Merry slowed. “Do not be fractious. You know I would never tell Seri anything you did not wish told.” She made a dramatic bow while walking and almost tripped over her hemline. Giggling at her own clumsiness, she added, “I am honoredyou chose to tell me.”
“Parasols up,” Felicity said. “There is Lady Urnstall, coming to visit Seri. She will surely tell her she saw us.”
Merry hurried to open her parasol and prop it on her shoulder. “There. She should report us as bonnets on, gloves on, and parasols at the ready. I hope Cook has extra biscuits made, or there will be none left for us at tea.”
“Lady Urnstall does enjoy eating, but she is rail thin. How does she do it?”
“Perhaps she has a worm.”
“Merry!”
She shrugged. “Well, either that or consumption. The woman is little more than an assemblage of walking bones. More folks than we have noticed her appetite and the direct contrast of the sharpness of her features.”
