The frown Bethany sent him could not have been any deeper. But she’d returned the hefty paperweight to his desk and he appreciated that.
Jules would have to deal with Brightly later. He met Felicity’s stare and ran a hand through his hair. “I am truly sorry. I know you’re going to make a wonderful wife for somebody.”
“Just not you.”
Jules pinched his lips together. “Just not me.”
The chiming of the large clock on his mantel seemed a perfect excuse to put an end to this conversation.
But he would have her be the one to do it. Perhaps she required a moment before leaving the privacy of his study.
“Did you have any questions? Is there anything else you would like to know?” God knows why he hadn’t realized he’d come away from this conversation feeling like shite. No doubt he’d known this deep down and that was why he’d put the meeting off.
Those wrinkles appeared between her eyes again. “You are quite certain our fathers didn’t sign any contracts?”
“I’ve gone through all my father’s paperwork.” He’d done so diligently. Perhaps in an effort to assure himself that he wasn’t legally obligated? That he was not honor-bound to such a duty thrust upon him from the grave? “I’ve found nothing. Besides that, my father would have told me. He wouldn’t have kept news of my own betrothal from me.”
“I suppose…”
“Are you up to going to the abbey still, Fel?” Bethany asked.
Felicity blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” This was what he’d expected. In all the time their families had known one another, he’d never seen Felicity give into a temper or fit of vapors. She would hold her head high.
But he’d hurt her and felt like a heel for doing so.
Bethany studied Felicity carefully. “Should we collect our wraps then?” She gave a quick glance at the clock sitting on the mantel. “Guests will be coming down soon.”
The girl he’d once thought he would marry rose gracefully and dipped her head. “I appreciate your honesty, my lord. I do not hold any ill will toward you.”
“Don’t hesitate to come to me, please. If you need anything.”
Her eyes met his ironically.Just don’t expect me to marry you, they seemed to taunt.
Even so, his offer was sincere.
Felicity exited, Bethany trailing behind her.
“Beth?” Jules voice halted is sister. She twisted around, brows raised, and a warmth of gratitude rushed through him.
Bethany often went unappreciated, but she was a constant help to all of them. She had been for as long as he could remember.
“Thank you.”
She smiled, eyes shining suspiciously, and then nodded.
He remained standing several minutes after the door closed behind the two ladies, contemplating friends, family, women—one in particular—and the future.
He hadn’t returned to his seat when a quick knock sounded and Mantis, Chase, Stone, and Peter sauntered in. With their presence came a sense of relief. They’d surely chase away the sentimental mood he was slipping into.
“Well?” Stone asked, making no pretense as to the nature of his question.
Just as he’d not realized the guilt he’d experience by making his feelings known to Felicity, neither had he expected the sudden sense of weightless freedom now that he’d completed the task. “I am free to marry Miss Jackson.”
“This ought to have been the perfect opportunity for us to remain holed up and commiserate with you as you drown your sorrows.” Chase punched Jules’ arm.
“We’ve managed to commiserate well enough already these past few days without having any sorrows to drown,” Peter pointed out, extracting his cello from the corner where he’d left it the night before.
“Felicity?” Mantis inquired, showing a hint of sensitivity.
