“Don’t be inquisitive! Miss Wimbush, take her away, if you please.”
The governess, twittering and clucking, began to usher the girl away, but she refused to go without first subjecting her brother to a ruthless hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“I love you, best of brothers, even if you are perfectly horrid to send me to bed.”
His face softened and he grinned. “I am flattered. Sleep tight, little sister. Don’t let the bugs bite.”
Lucille giggled and turned from him to skip up to Felicity, seizing her hands. “I’m so glad you came. You won’t run away, will you?”
“Not immediately. I have enjoyed today, thanks to you.”
Lucille was about to speak, but Miss Wimbush called to her from the doorway. “Coming, Wimby!”
With a quick goodnight to Felicity and a jaunty wave to her brother, she was finally persuaded out of the room, leaving a breathless silence behind her. Felicity studied her hands, wishing there were not quite so many candles so that she might hide her inner disquiet.
As if he read her thought, Raoul picked up a snuffer and moved to extinguish those in two of the wall-sconces. “That is better. They will insist on keeping the rooms ablaze with light.” He smiled as he turned to Felicity, moving across to where she sat on a long sofa set against the wall. He perched sideways at a little distance. “This is not the place I would have chosen for this discussion. Would you prefer to remove to the family parlour?”
“No, indeed, I am quite comfortable here,” Felicity said, her voice distressingly tight.
“You don’t look comfortable.” She made no reply and he grimaced. “I wish you won’t be shy of me, Felicity. I’m the same man, you know, despite all the trappings.”
She ventured a look at his face and found a disturbing expression there. She hurried into speech, saying the first thing that came into her head. “It’s not the same. Here, I mean.”
“I’m all too well aware of it.” A faint smile came. “But needs must. This is my inescapable world and there is no reason why it cannot be yours too.”
An odd buzzing crept into Felicity’s mind as she stared at him, his words revolving in her head. Her throat felt like sandpaper as she forced herself to speak. “Mine? How so?”
Raoul looked away, his fingers shifting where they rested on his knee. Was he nervous? What turn was this? His gaze caught their movement and he clenched his hand quickly, shifting his glance back to Felicity’s face.
“You heard Rusper. Your background is impeccable.”
Her unease grew. “My background?”
“Your father was Sir Arthur Temple’s nephew. Your life ought to have been very different. It can be still. You are young yet, Felicity. Do you truly wish to condemn yourself to years of drudgery?”
Confused, she avoided his intent gaze. Had she expected something else? She drew a breath and let it out, trying for calm. “I don’t have a choice, Raoul.”
His hand reached out and captured hers and he shifted a little closer. “I’m giving you a choice. I’m offering you a better life.”
His clasp about her fingers sent slivers of heat through her and she found it hard to concentrate. She struggled to make sense of this. “Are you thinking of Lucille?”
“I am thinking of her, yes, but —”
“She has Miss Wimbush already.” The protest was immediate and strong. Felicity snatched her hand away. “You can’t supplant the poor woman. How do you think I would feel to be the means of her losing her employment?”
He looked thoroughly taken aback. “Supplant her? Good God, no! But Lucille likes you and she needs a younger woman of good sense to emulate.”
She blinked at him. “You propose to employ two governesses? Is not that unnecessarily extravagant?”
Raoul let out a disbelieving laugh. “Is that what you think I meant? Felicity, I don’t want you for a governess for Lucille. I want you for a wife!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Felicity could not move or think. A slow thumping started up in her bosom as she stared at him. He looked anxious and his cheeks were darkening as he waited for her to speak. She found her voice.
“Have you run mad?”
His flush deepened. “No, of course I haven’t.”
