“I know you said you would relinquish my dowry, but I prefer you don’t.” Her quietness was laced with steely resolve. “There is much work to be done at Wakefield Manor, and that money could be put to good use.”
While he heartily agreed, his pride would not allow it. He had told her to keep her dowry, and he meant it. “It could indeed be put to good use, but I fear that is not possible. I will not go back on my word.”
“You would not be going back on your word. I would be insisting.”
“Felicity.”
“Do not say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I am a child, trying to wheedle you into giving me my way.”
He couldn’t help but smile. If today’s kisses were any indication, once they were married, she would always get her way. “I cannot go back on my word.” He waved down a passing servant carrying a silver tray of beverages. “Lemonades?”
The footman bowed. “Yes, my lord.” He set a glass in front of each of them. “Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.” Drake braved a sip of the pale-yellow liquid, which he usually let pass, and was pleasantly surprised. “Sweet but tart. I believe this is the best lemonade I have ever sampled.”
“It will not work, you know.” Felicity took a drink of her own.
“What will not work?”
“You are trying to change the subject. My dowry will more than cover all the repairs needed for the manor, and there will be plenty to spare.”
“If you insist upon a dowry, it will be held in your name to provide for you and our children should you become widowed. I will not make your future any more uncertain than it already is since you agreed to marry me. I am sure your brother will agree when he and I discuss it.” Drake licked his lips, discovering that the lemonade he had thought was good left a mawkish aftertaste that was not at all pleasant. “Is that drink supposed to linger with such strength?”
Felicity puckered her lovely lips into a sour-faced pout. “Joy’s cook refuses to add any salt to balance the sugar. It is the unbridled sweetness that causes the lemon and lime to leave behind that cloying trail. Salt is as important to a recipe as sugar.” She braved another sip, then set her goblet back on the table. “You could still use part of the dowry to hire more servants. Poor Yateston and Mrs. Pepperhill must surely be struggling to keep up.”
Everyone at Wakefield Manor was struggling, but that was neither here nor there. He released a heavy sigh that turned into a groan. They had only just mended their fences from their last misunderstandings, and here they were fussing again—about money. Gads alive, but he hated the problems that financials caused.
“I love you,” he said, determined to keep the conversation on solid footing. “But I need you to allow me to work this out with your brother inyourbest interest.” He would not ask her to leave him some small bit of pride. Now was not the time for surliness. He had learned that much from his earlier outburst.
She eyed him for a long moment as though contemplating his fate. “I love you as well,” she finally said, “and once we are married, I hope you come to realize we are partners to help one another throughanything. That is the way it was with my mama and papa.”
He idly ran his thumb up and down the stem of the lemonade goblet, unable to keep from smiling as a long-ago memory of his own parents came to mind. “I believe that was the way of it with my parents, as well.” He slowly shook his head. “It’s difficult to remember for certain. I was very young when a fever took my mother.”
“I am sorry.” She reached across the table and rested her hand on his. “I am discovering that no matter how many years pass, we still miss them.”
“Excuse me. Lady Felicity?”
Drake jerked and faced the man who dared to interrupt this private moment. “Lord Tinslow. How may we be of service?”
The viscount drew himself up and hiked his sharp nose higher in the air. “Excuse me, Lord Wakefield, but I need to speak with Lady Felicity.”
The man actually sounded as if he expected Drake to scurry off with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead, Drake rose from his seat and squared off in front of the lordling, struggling to hold tight to his temper. “Lady Felicity and I do not wish to be interrupted.” He turned to Felicity. “Do we, my love?”
The endearment sent a renewed blush to her cheeks, and she smiled. “Might we speak some other time, Lord Tinslow? You see, Lord Wakefield and I just became engaged.”
“Engaged?” The man’s shock was borderline insulting.
Felicity nervously shifted in her chair, and her smile became forced. “Yes. Engaged. The banns are to be announced this Sunday.”
Tinslow aimed a damning glare at Drake. “You have nothing to offer this delightful creature. Have you no honor?”
“Have you no manners?” Drake widened his stance, ready to pummel the man, but only if forced. He would not be the ruination of Lady Joy’s party. That would not sit well with his future in-laws. “This delightful gathering is not the place for this conversation. In fact, thereis no place for this conversation, because my engagement to the lovely Lady Felicity is none of your affair.”
Tinslow puffed up even more. “I intended to ask for her hand.”
