“As I said before, you deserve nothing less.” He ran his calloused thumbs across the softness of her fingers as he kept hold of her hands. “May I at least court you, my lady, so we might see if thissomethingbetween us blossoms into love?”
“You may call me Felicity.” Her shy smile grew a little bolder. “We shall start with that.”
“Then I insist you call me Drake.”
“Drake,” she repeated. “A fine name.”
“And may I call upon your brother for permission to court you?”
“You are very persistent.”
“I am determined not to lose you,” he said quietly, then grazed a tender kiss across her knuckles, making her gasp again. “You entrance me, Felicity. I cannot bear the thought of your going to another.”
She eyed him with a disconcerting wariness. “I want to believe you,” she finally said. “Truly, I do.”
He realized it wasn’t him or his circumstances that held her back, but the hurtfulness foisted upon her in the past. She was like a mistreated animal, afraid to trust, afraid to get hurt again. “I can only prove the truth of it to you if given time and the blessing of your company. Will you grant me that?”
From across the room came the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.
Felicity snatched her hands out of his and turned back to the window. “Did you say that field was planted in wheat or barley, my lord?”
“Barley, my lady.” Drake turned to see who dared interrupt them, relaxing as Merry crossed to the settee and had a seat.
She gave him an apologetic smile. “I thought it best to return. Mustn’t shirk my duties as chaperone.”
“Of course not.” He offered his hand to escort Felicity back to the settee. “Is His Grace in this afternoon, or should I wait until tomorrow?”
“I am not certain,” Felicity hedged, wiggling her nose as if it itched.
“Our brother is in,” Merry offered. “Other than a meeting with our steward, his diary was quite open the rest of the day. I saw it when I returned a book to our library.”
Felicity pinned her sister with a narrow-eyed glare. “Perhaps we should take our leave, Merry.” She turned a kinder gaze on him. “And thank you ever so much for the lovely cress sandwiches, and also for the generosity of your forgiveness about the bitter biscuits.”
He swept a bow. “Thank you for the generosity of your time, Lady Felicity. I cherish every moment you deign to give me.” Before she could comment, he added, “As a matter of fact, I shall escort the twoof you home, so I might meet with your brother today.” He went to the doorway and called out, “Yateston, my hat and gloves, please.”
“Today?” Felicity repeated with an endearing squeak. “Are you quite certain, my lord?”
“More certain than I have ever been about anything.”
*
“You wish tocourt my sister.” It was not a question, but a statement. The Duke of Broadmere paced back and forth behind his lavish desk, never taking his scowl off Drake. “I am aware of your circumstances, Lord Wakefield. Felicity deserves better. She deserves a man who can provide for her and her children, should her marriage be so blessed.” His Grace’s tone suggested he wasn’t finished. “A woman’s dowry should be set aside in case she becomes widowed. It should not be used by her husband to restore his family’s coffers. Would you care to address that?”
Drake wouldn’t lie to the man who reminded him of a mighty caged lion, wily and ready to kill. “I cannot deny that a portion of the dowry would be used to restore the Wakefield name, but I am better with finances than my uncle was. I hope to regain financial stability and would make as many provisions as possible for my wife and children.”
“Better than your uncle was,” the duke repeated. “Serendipity informed me you are averse to gambling. That is one thing in your favor.” He studied Drake, his eyes a darker blue than Felicity’s, a steelier blue that was far more cutting. “I am also aware that you treated my sister with respect when you thought her nothing more than a kitchen maid.” He nodded. “Another boon for you.” He scrubbed his jaw as though it helped him think. “Does my sister wish to court you?”
“Your sister has made it quite clear that she wishes to marry forlove—love for her. Not for her dowry.”
“And you love her?”
“There issomethingthere, Your Grace. I honestly believe I could. Ever since meeting her in Lady Atterley’s kitchen, she is always in my thoughts—even in my dreams.”
The duke leaned across his desk, his scowl hardening. “I will not have my sister hurt. Of all seven of them, Felicity is the gentlest and most tenderhearted. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“You will avenge your sister if she is not treated with the care she deserves.”
His Grace nodded. “And not that I would need their help, but I have four brothers-in-law who will gladly join me in seeking justice.”
