“Well, don’t tell her that younevermeant to marry her. Just tell her that I changed my mind.”
Never? He had never meant to marry her? Felicity thought she might vomit right onto the carpet.
“And I get the house,” she heard him say.
“I made a promise, did I not?”
Felicity stood there in the shadows just beyond the door feeling sicker by the minute. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She looked down at the freehand score she held, the tune embedded in her brain where she knew it would remain until she forgot her own name.
It would be so easy to threaten them with it. Hold it hostage until they set her up someplace she could be comfortable. And alone. It sounded good, suddenly, living by herself somewhere she couldn't again be so bitterly disappointed.
Sadly, she had too many scruples. And Flint was right. She was a dreadful liar. There was only one thing to do.
She didn't even bother to knock. She just pulled the door all the way open and walked in, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor. Still gleaming, she thought absently as she crossed the room. It was better to think about than the sick realization in Flint's eyes as he jumped to his feet.
“It would have been much easier just to ask,” she said, keeping a dreadful control over her voice as she lifted her gaze to his. “But I imagine the games are more fun.”
“Felicity...”
At least his voice sounded strained. A better actor than she, obviously. She didn't give him a chance to continue. Deliberately turning from him, she faced the duke, who didn't even bother to look chagrined. “I had heard you like to play with people's lives. Be careful one of them doesn't play back.”
The duke sat behind Flint’s desk, a silver-haired near twin to his son.
Well, Felicity thought inconsequentially,at least Flint had never had to questionhisparentage.
The duke rose slowly to his feet. His brow gathered. “You had better not be threatening me, young lady. The fate of the nation is at risk.”
She gave him a smile that seemed to take all her energy. “I imagine as an excuse that will do for you. Still, some people won't be as understanding as I.”
“However?” he retorted.
“However, nothing. I do not play games, Your Grace. Although I will make this one demand. Since you saw fit to blithely interfere with my life, you may now restore it. In exchange for these papers which I believe are what you were looking for, you may secure me my old position so I never have to cross your path again. Have we an agreement?”
“I can simply take them.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Evidently disdain was all it took to learn a new skill.
Flint answered for her. “You would never sully your hands,” he told his father. “And I can’t think of anyone here who would help. They like her better than they like you.”
The duke never looked toward his son. “I would have your help, or I would take your house back,” he told him anyway.
“And lose any reputation you have left as a gentleman,” Flint retorted. “I would make certain of it. Right after I burned the house to the ground.”
The duke actually looked surprised. For a moment, there was silence. Then he deliberately turned back to Felicity. “You were always to be accepted back to your little school, Miss...er, Chambers. My best wishes for your future endeavors.”
He held out his hand. Without another word, Felicity dropped the papers into them and turned to leave. Behind her, the duke snorted rather indelicately. “It seems all that money spent on Miss Chase's Academy was a waste after all.”
She had just been about to leave. With those words, though, her previous disinterest in her background shattered. She stopped and turned.
“So, youdoknow why I was sent there.”
He lifted an imperious eyebrow that almost made Felicity laugh out loud. At least she finally knew where Flint had learned that trick. “Of course, I know.”
“Then you won't mind telling me.”
“Why should I?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Lady Winnifred said something about the school, that girls were sent there for a reason. What reason?”
