Felicity never stumbled on names, but the last time she’d spoken with Westerley’s bride felt like a lifetime ago.
“Thank you, my lady. And, of course, you look absolutely stunning.” Westerley’s countess bit her lip. “I know you must hold me in contempt for everything, and I am so terribly so—”
“No,” Felicity stopped her. “I am happy. And I am glad you are happy. Everything has turned out for the best.”
And she meant it with all her heart. Because shelovedAxel.
And she wished she could tell the world, but first, she ought to tell him.
Tomorrow. After the ceremony… when they could be alone.
“I have felt horrible about all of it.” The lovely American, indeed, looked pained.
“Please, don’t. In fact, I want to thank you,” she added in case the other woman was left with any doubt. “Westerley and I didn’t suit.”
“I just…”
“Honestly. Everything has turned out for the better.”
After a pause, the love of Westerley’s life exhaled with a nervous laugh.
Before her former betrothal had been called off, Felicity had liked the American heiress. She’d wanted to be friends, and now, as it turned out, it was possible again.
Miss Rachel Somerset, another girl who’d made her come-out with Bethany and Felicity, stepped into their circle and leaned in conspiratorially.
“Does not Lord Manningham-Tissinton look even more handsome with his eye swollen and purple?”
Felicity wasn’t sure how she was supposed to answer something like that. Because, of course, he did. But that didn’t mean she appreciated other ladies, especially Rachel Somerset, ogling him.
Bethany eyed the other woman and scowled, but Lady Westerley shook her head. “It isn’t fair! If it were you or I with a blackened eye like that, we’d need to wear a mask to cover it, or more likely, go into hiding until it faded and hope our servants didn’t make up stories as to how we got it.”
“My mother’s maid would no doubt spread all kinds of stories,” Miss Somerset offered.
“Chaswick’s servants are wonderfully discreet—quite unlike my mother’s,” Bethany said. “Which reminds me…” She twisted around, “Chaswick’s sisters are here tonight. He’s making the rounds with them, and I promised I wouldn’t be gone long. Last week, at the Middleton ball, I found Collette hiding behind one of the plants while Diana accosted a duke.”
“They’ll take. Let me know if I can help in any way.” Before Bethany could disappear, Felicity reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m so glad you are here.” And to Lady Westerley, of whom Bethany looked about to drag away with her. “Thank you.”
Just then, the conductor of the small orchestra took his place, and a moment later, Mantis appeared at her side.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” And she realized that she had looked forward to this moment for days now.
Not being the center of attention, not dancing, nor showing off her beautiful new gown. But being in his arms.
Dancing with him.
Touching him.
And as he led her onto the shining wooden floor, warmth blossomed in her chest.
She’d been foolish not to have noticed him before Westerley broke off their engagement. She had been blind.
Because Viscount Manningham-Tissinton—her fiancé, her friend, but also her lover—was by far the most handsome and elegant man in attendance that evening.
And he was hers.
He settled his arm around her back, clasping her hand with his other.
