“Because I am me. The fat, unattractive one of the litter, remember?” Felicity clenched her teeth and continued stomping along, hating herself even more for wallowing in self-pity.
Merry yanked her to a halt. “You are not! Just because you overheard that horse’s arse say such cruel things that night does not make them true. You are beautiful, Felicity, just too blinded by what those idiotic lordlings said and Seri’s constant nagging about what you put on your plate. And our modiste needs to learn to keep her opinions to herself as well. Now, stop it this instant, or you shall be the one with eels dumped into your bed.”
“You are afraid of eels.”
“For you, I will make an exception.” Merry shook her by the shoulders. “You are beautiful. The earl thinks so too. I saw it in his eyes.”
“You saw him gleeful that he had found the solution to his problems.”
Merry released her. “Fine. Be pitiful.” She whirled about and shook a finger not an inch from the end of Felicity’s nose. “What would Mama say? And Papa?”
“They would tell me to spit in those gossiping lordlings’ faces.” Felicity huffed and blinked hard and fast against the stinging threat of tears.
“And what would they say about Lord Wakefield?”
“To give him a chance,” Felicity muttered.
“What?” Merry cocked an ear as if she couldn’t hear her.
“To give him a chance,” Felicity repeated louder. “You are beginning to sound like Chance and Seri. Do you realize that?”
Merry grinned. “There is no need to be insulting.” She shook her finger again. “Now, if I ever hear of you taking to heart what those insufferably cruel coves said, there shall be eels in your bed. Understood? And ignore Seri and the modiste. Do you understand?”
Felicity sighed. “I understand.” Then she lengthened her stride. “But we are going home. No promenade today.”
Merry snorted and looped her arm through hers. “Fine. No promenade.Today.”
Chapter Four
“Iam afraidthat is all I can pay you today, Mr. Herbert.” Embarrassment and humiliation pounded through Drake like a terrible poison, making him ache to be done with it. He straightened his spine and carried on. “I do apologize and swear to continue with future installments, if you will but find it in your heart to allow it.”
The shopkeeper’s troubled expression deepened, and he shook his balding head. “I know these debts are not of your making, my lord, but we are businesspeople and must survive on our profits. The Wakefield estate owes us payment in full. We are talking quite an amount here.”
“I understand that.” What the shopkeeper didn’t realize was that Drake had already sold everything he could part with other than the land his father had left him. As much as he hated to, he decided to offer one of the few precious items he had remaining from his parents. “We have a fine silver service at Wakefield Hall. If I were to bring it here for you to sell and keep the proceeds, would that settle the debt completely? It is very fine.” He cleared his throat again. “It is from my mother’s side of the family. A wedding present from when she married my father. It is not engraved with any initials and is quite elegant.”
The compassion in the old man’s eyes gave him hope. Finally, the shopkeeper nodded. “Bring it by for a look, Lord Wakefield. We will see what can be done.”
Drake exhaled. “Thank you, Mr. Herbert. Again, I am very sorry.”
“I am sorry you found yourself saddled with such debt, my lord.” Mr. Herbert closed the account ledger and returned it to its shelf behind the counter.
“As do I, sir. As do I.” Drake nodded again, then exited the shop as quickly as possible. The shame of the conversation tasted bitter, almost making him gag. Mettlestone’s shop had been the final stop on his list of creditors that he was trying to pay just enough to silence them for a little longer. Or at least long enough so they might extend a bit more credit for absolute necessities. Drake hadn’t asked Mr. Herbert about that. As far as he was concerned, they would do without and continue to try to survive on what hunting and the kitchen garden provided. Praise be that Mrs. Pepperhill’s brother owned the village gristmill and gave his sister whatever short and coarse brans other customers refused to buy. While the middlings were not as refined as good flour and were normally used for animal feed, the housekeeper did the best she could to further grind the grains with a mortar and pestle and bake barely passable loaves of bread.
Thank heavens the shy Lady Felicity had chosen to leave the shop in haste and hadn’t been privy to the unpleasantness of his begging Mr. Herbert for more time. “Damn you, Uncle George,” he said under his breath as he strode out of the village. “Damn you straight to hell.”
He didn’t really mean that, but in a way, he did. Uncle George had paid the price for his poor choices. They had cost him his legs and his identity. Drake raked his hair back out of his eyes, making a note to ask Yateston, the butler, to do his best to trim it once again. He could make do without a valet when it came to most things, but he couldn’t properly cut his own damn hair.
He tried to roll the tension from his shoulders and forced himself to think of more pleasant things. Lady Felicity was the firstpleasantnessto come to mind. He smiled. So, the shy, lovely kitchen maid was a Broadmere sister? How could he not have realized it? He thought back to last night and the modest apron she had worn. Then it hit him: thejewelry. How could he not have noticed her earrings and necklace? Amethysts, maybe? Whatever they had been, even though they were simple, he remembered them as being quite fine. What a fool he was. No, not a fool exactly. He hadn’t noticed her jewelry because he had been too entranced by the sweetness of her smile.
“And I was starving,” he said, remembering that the coddled eggs and soldiers had been the first meal he had eaten all day. He had been too busy for anything more than tea and a toss of brandy right before walking to the party.
So, his golden-haired angel with the luscious curves was a Broadmere sister? His heart lifted. Had he not wished several times that the delightful kitchen maid possessed a dowry? What providence was this? Not only was Lady Felicity witty and most pleasing to the eye, but her family was flush in the pockets. The Broadmere sisters possessed the best dowries of theton—or so the rumormongers said.
He would call upon her tomorrow and every day thereafter until she agreed to marry him. Not only did he already possess a liking for her and an undeniable attraction, but something deep inside told him he might someday come to love her. He had never really thought about finding a wife tolove, but what a boon that would be. To love the woman able to solve the lion’s share of his problems and live a happy life, debt free?
Spirits well and truly lifted, he pushed through the Wakefield estate’s back gate that led to the gardens. Merciless thuds and groans came to him, quickening his steps through the maze of overgrown shrubbery.
“Uncle!” Damn, he should not have shouted that. “Mr. Pembroke, take heart! Get off him, you bastards!”
