“Still,” Joy said, “Chance deserves that common courtesy. I know he can be a lout at times, but we must humor him. You know how fractious he gets when we ignore him.”
“Indeed.” Men could be as petulant as toddlers. “Where are the rest of the girls? If I don’t share my news with them before anyone else hears it, they will be most displeased.”
“Lady Grace was fetching her dogs,” Drake said, his expression unreadable.
“How many did she bring?” Felicity asked Joy. Grace had as many hounds at Wolfebourne Lodge as their sister Blessing had cats.
Joy counted off on her fingers. “Gastric, of course. He is her favorite. Connor and Sissy’s dog Hector, and I believe Lucy, the foxhound.”
Felicity turned back to Drake. “Why was she fetching them? She usually sees them settled in a side garden somewhere away from the festivities until it is safe to allow them back into the house.”
Drake rolled his shoulders as if shrugging on an uncomfortable jacket. “She was going to set them on me for upsetting you.”
Felicity laughed. “Gastric is so round that he waddles. Hector is a terrier who would barely reach your knees, and Lucy’s favorite activity is stretching out in a sunny patch and napping. I daresay you would be quite safe.”
With a leery shake of his head, he nodded at the far wall of windows. Beyond the span of panes, Grace could be seen marching along with the dogs in tow. “With your sister goading them on, I have no doubt they would rise to the occasion.”
“I shall tell her all is well.” Joy hurried to the window, tapped it with her cane, and drew Grace’s attention. Then she smiled and tapped her ring finger on her left hand.
Grace grinned and herded the trio of canines back in the direction from which they came.
“That leaves Blessing, Fortuity, and Merry—most especially Merry.” Felicity looped her arm through his and tugged. “We must tell them before you speak with Chance.”
Drake gave her a bemused look. “Should I not speak with your brother first?”
“Oh, no. Sisters first.” Felicity couldn’t help but smile. “Chance likes to think himself the head of the household, but we are the neck.”
“I see,” he said, the wariness in his tone becoming more pronounced.
“I will protect you,” Felicity promised, then tugged again. “You already know Merry will be thrilled. I am sure Blessing and Fortuity will be too.”
“Everyone will be thrilled as long as our Felicity is happy.” Serendipity leveled a pointed look at Drake.
“I assure you, I will do my best to keep her happy.”
“See that you do.” Joy moved to the door and held it open. “Onward. I know Merry is in the nursery. I am unsure where Blessing and Fortuity got off to, but we shall find them.”
Felicity hugged closer against Drake’s side and patted his arm. His hesitancy concerned her. Did he fear they might reject him? She knew he struggled with bruised pride from all that had gone wrong since he inherited the title. “It will be all right,” she whispered.
“I hope so,” he said just as softly, then cleared his throat and stood taller. “We shall make it all right, shall we not?”
Joyous excitement bubbled through her. “Indeed, we shall.”
*
After sharing theirhappy news with the rest of the sisters and receiving their blessings, they returned outside in search of refreshments. Drake kept Felicity on his arm, determined that one and all would see that she belonged to him. If not for the nagging worry about Rum and Catherty, his joy would be complete. But the threat of blackmail and possibly worse hung over him like a black cloud, following him everywhere.
“Where are your thoughts?” Felicity playfully tugged his arm. “You are scowling.”
“Forgive me, dearest.” Shoving the unpleasantness to the back of his mind, he patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. “Would you like some lemonade or tea, perhaps?” He escorted her to one of the tables beneath the shade of a white, open-sided tent billowing with the summer breeze.
“Let us sit for a while, and then perhaps I will enjoy something.” Her sparkling smile lit her up as she looked at all the partygoers. “Joy is so pleased. Everything is splendid. Lady Constance will be green with envy.”
“Lady Constance?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t certain.
“A one-time friendship of Joy’s that turned sour.” Felicity folded her hands on the table, then flattened them on the white tablecloth, smoothing away wrinkles only she could see.
“Felicity?” He waited, holding his breath. Something dire was troubling her. “We promised to share our worries. Remember?” Could he possibly be a larger hypocrite? He ignored his conscience, shunting it away.
