An argument that seemed to have found a mark, at last. Lucien’s defensive posture softened a little and he exchanged a brief look with Felicity.
“I will grant you that Mr. Fitzgilbert’s behavior is sometimes not gentlemanly,” he said softly. “And that he has a great many demands about what Celia’s dowry will ‘buy’ as far as access and influence.”
Felicity reached out to Lucien, touching his arm. “But can you blame his behavior on Celia or Rosalinde?” She squeezed before she glared at Gray. “And why do you care so much, Gray? Rosalinde and her grandfather could hate each other to the core and that would have nothing to do with us. It is Celia who will join our family, not Fitzgilbert or Rosalinde.”
No, Rosalinde would not be part of their clan once this was done. She would be just an in-law who they saw from time to time.
“Do stop scowling, Gray,” Felicity said, crossing over to him to slide an arm around his waist. “We both know you mean well, but sometimes you go too far.”
Gray pressed his lips together. He could see from Lucien’s tight expression that he’d done just that today. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate his brother. So he sighed.
“I’m sorry if I’m too forward. I hope you know it comes from a good place.” Lucien nodded wordlessly, and Gray continued, “I only want you to at least say you’ll take my concerns into account. Considerallthe outcomes in your association with this woman.”
Lucien rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about what you’ve said, Gray. But don’t expect things to change. This wedding is happening in less than ten days. I don’t see anything stopping it now.”
In the three days since her last encounter in the library with Gray, Rosalinde could have written a book about how difficult it was to carry on an affair in a household filled with nosy people. Thanks to dress fittings and outings, gatherings and plans, she’d shared little more with Gray than a few meaningful looks and a lightly flirtatious banter. By the time each day came to a close, she felt unbearably tight, but there was no chance for release with her sister sleeping beside her.
“How do you take your tea, Mrs. Wilde?” the dowager countess said as she poured for her.
“Just milk,” Rosalinde replied, pulling herself from her inappropriate thoughts with great difficulty.
She sat in the midst of the parlor surrounded by both bridal families, including Gray, who sat in a corner watching her. The intensity of his stare was so distracting that when Lady Stenfax held out her tea, Rosalinde didn’t notice right away.
“Take the cup, girl,” her grandfather snapped.
It felt like everyone in the room jumped at his harsh tone. Lady Stenfax even sloshed the cup so tea fell onto the floor between them.
Rosalinde grabbed the cup. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she burst out as blood rushed to her cheeks.
“It’s all right,” Lady Stenfax said, smiling at Rosalinde even as her gaze slid to Mr. Fitzgilbert. “No harm done.”
“Let me fetch you a napkin for your hand,” Rosalinde said, setting her cup aside and rushing to the sideboard to get the cloth. As she reached it, a servant trailed behind.
“I’ve got it, ma’am,” the maid said, taking the napkin and returning to her mistress.
Rosalinde stayed at the sideboard, trying to calm her breath. She felt Gray watching her, wondered if he would come to her, but before he could Lady Barbridge got to her feet and slid over with a warm smile.
“Don’t worry,” she said, touching Rosalinde’s shaking hand lightly. “It was an accident, it could happen to anyone.”
Rosalinde smiled at the other woman’s kindness and her gentle tone. “Thank you, Lady Barbridge.”
She flinched ever so slightly. “Oh, please, I know it is proper to call me by my title, but I do prefer Felicity. Especially from my friends.”
Rosalinde lifted her gaze to Felicity’s face. There was no censure there, no judgment. Was it possible she truly wanted to be Rosalinde’s friend? Oh, she’d been kind before, the few times Rosalinde had encountered her in London, but now that she knew Gray’s drive to break Celia’s engagement, she wondered if the rest of his family felt so strongly.
“Thank you,” she said with caution. “Felicity.”
The pair watched the others for a while. Celia was speaking to Lady Stenfax while the earl seemed to be locked in intense conversation with Mr. Fitzgilbert. Only Gray sat outside it all, observing everyone, including Rosalinde. Whenever his dark gaze speared her, her body reacted almost against her will.
“I hope Gray isn’t being too hard on you,” Felicity said, drawing Rosalinde from her thoughts with sudden and violent force.
“I—he—we—” Heat flooded Rosalinde’s cheeks and she cleared her throat as she tried to find some level of calm. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, he is very protective of our brother.” Felicity’s voice grew softer and smaller. “And of me. Sometimes to a fault.”
Rosalinde shifted. It didn’t feel right to talk about such private things, and yet what choice did she have? Gray had made his war against Celia so clear, Rosalinde had to fight him just as hard if she were going to shield her sister from his plans.
“Hedoesseem protective,” she admitted. “Do you mind if I ask you why?”
