A thought struck him. “Refresh my memory,” he spoke softly again. “Did you tell me your father had lost your dowry?”
She nodded. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all. In fact, I think that might work in our favor.” The closed door to her father’s study, from where he’d been kindly ejected the day before, was on their left. The doors to the right were opened wide.
“Is that you, Felicity?” A feminine voice called from inside. “I’ve been worried sick for your whereabouts. What on earth was Susan doing, allowing you to stay out for so long.” Felicity stepped inside first, with Mantis one step behind her.
“Lord Manningham!” Lady Brightley halted her knitting needled as she stared at him from the far end of a long settee. “Felicity?” She seemed horrified by his presence but not so much as to challenge him outright.
“Mother, you remember Lord Manningham-Tissinton?”
“My lady,” Axel bowed to his future mother-in-law. “You are looking lovely this afternoon.” He would do all he could to win her mother over—to win her family over. Because regardless of the outcome of this meeting, he would marry Felicity.
It was the proper thing, the honorable thing, and he would settle for nothing less.
And in addition to all of that, it was what he wanted.
“But…” Lady Brightley’s brow furrowed. “Did you not remember what your father said?” This woman was not comfortable defying her husband’s rules. At one time, Mantis might have thought Felicity was similar in temperament.
By now, he’d learned to presume nothing where she was concerned.
“We have come, together, to speak with father.”
“Dear me.” Her mother had gone somewhat pale and was waving a hand before her face. “He’s not going to be pleased at all. Must you do this today, Felicity? I don’t mean to be rude, my lord, but we have been told in no uncertain terms that my daughter is not to associate with you, and my husband is going to be terribly angry if he discovers you here.”
“May I?” He moved slowly into the room and gestured toward the smaller settee that sat opposite the countess.
“Oh, no! But of course. Be seated. But this is not good, not at all good.”
Brightley had pointed out to Mantis the day before that Felicity’s mother was the daughter of a duke. Although not nearly as poised as her daughter, she possessed the same regal bearing.
Felicity lowered herself to sit beside her mother, and Mantis noticed both the similarities and the differences between Felicity and the older woman.
“Mother, please don’t be upset. It’ll only make matters worse.” Felicity turned a pleading gaze to Mantis.
“My lady. We’re here to reason with the Earl.” If that was at all possible. “I do believe the yarn you’re working with is the same shade as your daughter’s eyes.” It was the color of the Mediterranean.
“That’s why I chose it. Felicity inherited her eyes from her father.”
“And what is it that you are knitting?”
“A scarf. One can never own too many scarves, isn’t that right, darling?” She touched Felicity’s leg. “I tried making mittens, but the patterns are too complicated.”
Seemingly forgetting how her husband was going to respond to Mantis’ presence, whether by accident or choice, Felicity’s mother was more than happy to discuss the difficulty involved in knitting, the cold weather they’d experienced the past winter, and even the newest color debutantes were wearing this year. “Catmint,” she enthused.
But when heavy footsteps approached outside the drawing-room, Lady Brightley fell silent.
“What in the devil are you doing here?”
Bracing himself, Mantis turned to stare at the man who’d sent him packing the day before. Her father could fight him all he wished, but he wasn’t about to win.
The Earl of Brightley paced back into the hallway and then inside once again, to where Mantis, Felicity, and her mother sat. Red-faced, he then raised one arm and pointed toward the door.
“Out. Now. Before I have you thrown out.”
Confronting the Parents
Felicity burst to her feet. “But Father—”
