Determined to escape his gaze, she busied herself around the already tidy room. “Do not say such things.”
“I have finally learned to speak nothing but the truth.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I hate what I did to you, to us. Hate it more than you will ever know.”
She went to the window and stared at nothing, holding her head high and fighting to show no emotion at all. “We all have regrets. Make poor choices. I believe they call thatliving.” She pulled in a deep breath and held it. Mama had always told her to hold her breath whenever she was angry to keep her from saying something she might regret. She wondered if holding her breath would keep her heart from shattering even more. “Sleep now. You need your rest.”
“No,” he said. “I need you.”
“Well, you cannot have me,” she said, even though her heart screamed for her to relent and return to her ridiculous ways of trusting him. “Rest. If you rest now, you might be able to eat a bit of gruel this afternoon.”
“That is no way to entice me.”
She turned and glared at him. “I do not care to entice you. Do what you need to do to heal, so we might both escape this cruel prison in which we find ourselves.” She managed a stiff curtsy. “Mrs. Bean will return shortly. I shall inform her you are awake, so she and Edmund can finish bathing you and change your dressing.”
“Felicity?”
She stared down at her hand on the door latch, her knuckles whitening as she tightened her grip. “What, my lord?”
“I am sorry.”
“So am I, my lord. So am I.” Then she charged from the room in search of her brother. She needed to leave this place as soon as possible. Since Drake no longer appeared to be at death’s door,someone else could be paid to take over his care until he became well enough to care for himself. Perhaps Mrs. Bean and Edmund could do so before starting their employment at Broadmere Hall.
She found Chance downstairs in a corner of the dining room, sipping tea as he read a London paper that had to be old news by now. “I want to return home,” she said, flopping down into an empty chair at his table. “Immediately.”
Chance eyed her over the top of the paper, reminding her so much of Papa that she had to blink hard and fast to beat back the threat of tears. Drawing in a deep breath, then releasing it with a heavy sigh, he folded theTimesand placed it on the table. “What has happened now?”
“Lord Wakefield is much improved and well on his way to recovery. With his fever gone, someone could be hired to care for him until he is strong enough to return to his home. We could hire the Beans. They could stay here and care for him until they are no longer needed. Then they could write to us, and we could fetch them to Broadmere Hall.” She jutted her chin higher, daring her brother to argue. “I need to go home. I am done here.”
“Are you?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I have watched you these many days, Felli.” Chance paused for another sip of his tea, then lowered his cup back to its saucer, staring down at it with a thoughtful, narrow-eyed glare. “The once-shy mouse turned into a protective lioness.” He looked up at her. “A lioness protecting the one she loves.”
“I do not love him.”
“You also do not lie well.” Chance shifted with another heavy sigh. “His uncle manipulated him, Felli. Not a soul in Binnocksbourne despised the man for himself—they didn’t trust him because of his scoundrel of an uncle and all the debts the estate fell short of covering.”
She clenched her fists in her lap. This was not how this conversationwas supposed to go. Chance should be fetching a carriage or renting her a horse or something. “How would you know? We have not been back to Binnocksbourne for days and days.”
He tapped on a leather pouch on the table. One she had failed to notice. “Along with my newspapers, Mr. Osbourne forwarded several letters from the villagers, the merchants to whom Wakefield owes the most money.”
“Are they so bold as to mock me at this low point in my life?”
“They are not mocking you.” Chance drew out one of the letters and slid it over to her. “They are speaking on Lord Wakefield’s behalf, stating how very hard he tried to repay all his uncle’s debts rather than avoid them or flee the country. In fact, most, if not all, have forgiven the remainder of what he owes. Your earl is debt free.”
“He is not my earl, and it is not a matter of the money or the title. Why can no one understand that?” She thumped the table with her fist, uncaring that she sounded like a fractious toddler denied a treat. “He lied to me.”
“He swore he was going to tell you at the proper time. Yes, it was a lie of omission—but not a bold, malicious lie in and of itself.” Chance motioned to the maid tending the dining room. “More tea, please.”
“I want to go home. Now. I should have gone rather than send for more dresses.”
“And what exactly do you intend to do? Hide?” He leaned closer, his eyes filled with compassion and a hefty gleam of brotherly stubbornness. “This will not go away, Felli. Your heart will not allow it. Are you too young to remember how Mama and Papa sometimes were?”
Doing her best not to melt into a sniveling puddle, she straightened her spine. “What the blazes are you talking about?”
“That is not proper language for a lady, Felicity. Do not make me regret telling Serendipity to remain at home with Merry.” He paused as the maid brought a fresh pot of tea and poured a cup for Felicity.Once she left them, he continued, “Mama and Papa loved each other with a fury. I do not deny that, but as the eldest, I remember many times when they also argued and fought each other with that same passion.” He grinned. “Mama once used the coarsest sort of language with Papa. Words I had never heard before. They didn’t realize I was in the room when they were arguing. I don’t know what he had done, but she gave him a heated dressing-down—absolutely scalding, in fact.”
Felicity folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself. “If you had never heard such words before, how did you know they were coarse?”
