Red roses threaded through the golden silk of her hair.
“Felicity.” He reached inside. None of the compliments he summoned were good enough.
She’s too good for me. She placed her gloved hand in his, allowing him to draw her out of the carriage and into the warm evening air.
Precious indeed, the lavender scent he loved mingled with the heady perfume of the roses.
“What happened to you?” She reached up to touch her fingertips to the corner of his eye. How many times had she done the same with his scar?
“Nothing.” He’d tell her everything later. Although there wasn’t much to tell. “But it’s over.”
As luck would have it, the man who’d died at the hand of his own knife had been the ring-leader—the intermediary—between the person who’d wanted Mantis killed and the people being paid to accomplish that.
Trouble was, without the dead man to pay them, the various thugs were no longer eager to complete the job they’d set out to accomplish.
For now, anyhow, Mantis could breathe a sigh of relief.
“Did you find out who it was?” Felicity whispered while her parents preceded them into the drawing room, where they would partake of drinks with his father and Louisa.
“The man who jumped us at Vauxhall is dead, and his helpers are no longer interested in killing me.”
“But… who? Why?”
Mantis wished he had more answers. “Unless the culprit hires others to do the job, he’ll remain a mystery. And with word on the street that payment was withheld, it’s all but impossible he’ll be able to hire someone else.” He twisted his mouth into a wry smile. “Apparently, murder isn’t cheap.”
“But he is still out there.”
“Possibly. But we are safe for now.”
One hand at her back, he led his betrothed into his former home and, he supposed, his future home, to celebrate the eve of their wedding.
“I am more than happy to forget about knives and guns and poisons for the rest of my life, if possible.” Felicity relaxed and grinned up at him. Halting, she turned and drew one hand down the front of his waistcoat. “We match.”
Mantis pinched back a grin of his own. “A serendipitous coincidence.”
“Knowing my maid, I’ve no doubt she consulted with your valet.”
In no hurry to join their parents, the two of them continued slowly inside, exchanging entertaining anecdotes about her maid and his valet.
And it felt good. Very good.
“Sherry, Lady Felicity?” Louisa greeted them with a wide smile. “Don’t the two of you look simply charming this evening?”
“I wasn’t sure about the scarlet,” Lady Brightley began. “But it’s truly the most stunning I’ve ever seen. Our children are going to be all the rage.”
Axel’s father peered at his fob watch. “When does the blasted festivity commence?” He placed himself at the window where a few carriages were pulling to a halt below. “I’ll be happy for some peace and quiet when all of this is over.”
“Nice shiner there, Mantis,” Lord Brightley commented.
“I occasionally spar with Mr. Stone Spencer. Failed to dodge his left hook.”
The Earl narrowed his eyes but then nodded. “Broke my nose a few times myself when I was your age.”
Mantis chatted with Lord Brightley while his own father added to the conversation with an occasional grunt. Felicity conversed with Cordelia, but their mothers were far too concerned with final wedding details to engage in casual chit-chat.
“Now would be an excellent time to form the reception line,” Mr. Mortimer announced from the door.
Which would bring him one step closer to having Felicity in his arms again. Because, of course, he and his bride were expected to lead off the dancing—a waltz.
