“Tell me you are not spending yet another afternoon cooped up in this dreary place,” she said, reaching for Felicity’s hand and tugging her to her feet.
“There is work to be done,” said Felicity, but Bethany would hear no other protests as she led her friend from the study and into the sitting room where the maids were readying tea and cakes. Though she still did not require any refreshment, a bit of conversation was welcome, so she settled herself onto the sofa as Bethany did the same.
“Was that Mr. Johnson leaving just now? He looked terribly distraught,” said Bethany.
“No doubt he expected a different outcome to his declaration,” said Felicity as her friend reached for the teapot and began preparing their cups. “I ought to do that, Bethany—”
“Hush, Felicity. If you take no umbrage with my stepping over the bounds of propriety, then I am glad to do it. You have enough weighing on your mind without having to wait on me.”
Watching Bethany’s efficient movements, Felicity felt the tiniest bit of strain ease from her heart, though that allowed a trickle of disappointment to take its place. Her mind was too clogged and her thoughts too sluggish for even such a simple task, and Felicity wasn’t sure if she should weep in gratitude that someone was aiding her or growl in frustration that such ministrations were necessary.
“My thanks, Bethany,” said Felicity, taking the proffered cup and plate before her friend prepared her own.
“Someone needs to make certain you are taking care of yourself,” said Bethany, moving with such ease that she hardly glanced at the tea and dishes.
“I do not know how Uncle managed it all. I’ve been without a man of business for little more than a fortnight, yet I am overwhelmed with all that needs doing.”
“You are dealing with his work and your own,” replied Bethany. “Your uncle had you to manage the household and all that comes with it, and he had assistance in dealing with the minutiae of his business. Was it really necessary for you to sack Mr. Kerr?”
Felicity’s brows rose as she took a sip of her tea. “He had designs that included far more than managing my business affairs, and though he was a fine man of business, I had no interest in allowing him a more permanent position in my life. After all, a husband cannot be sacked if he proves unworthy.”
Bethany chuckled. “And was Mr. Johnson here to make his application?”
Abandoning her teacup to the side table, Felicity shook her head with a laugh. “He was so ridiculous, Bethany. He spouted the most absurd poetry and called me a goddess, as though I would fall into his arms weeping at his benevolence.”
Bethany’s gaze softened, her lips twisting into a half-smile. “And what if he was in earnest?”
“You’ve witnessed my entire frustrating mess of suitors, and you would ask that? Truly?”
“I simply hoped that perhaps…” Bethany shook her head, setting aside her teacup.
Giving a single shrug of her shoulder, Felicity gave her friend a wry smile. “As did I. But these gentlemen paid me no mind when they believed me to be in possession of a minor inheritance. Now that Uncle is gone and the opposite has proven true, they flock to me in droves. One need only look to the shallowness of their declarations to know their hearts are not truly engaged.”
Felicity let out a puff of air and shook her head. “No doubt Mr. Johnson will arrive again tomorrow with a posy in hand to show me how much he truly adores me, though his words make it clear how little he knows me.”
“You think so?” asked Bethany.
With a grin, Felicity replied, “It is what the last three have done, and I doubt Mr. Johnson is imaginative enough to do more than the standard overtures. Though it seems to me that a ‘goddess’ deserves a fair bit more than over-recited poetry and a handful of generic blossoms. The florist must have a ‘Miss Barrows’ bouquet, for it is near identical every time.”
The pair laughed as Felicity recalled the various steps the false beaus had taken to secure her heart, and though she varied little from the truth, Felicity did add a few minor—yet deserving—embellishments. Perhaps Mr. Gardiner's breath was not as strong as cooked onions mixed with rotten beef, but it was close enough. Could he not have eaten something less pungent before baring his “soul” to her?
When the mirth died down, Felicity stared at her nearly empty teacup, her smile turning into a hint of a frown. “I do not fear being a spinster. Marriage to the right man sounds blissful, and I would welcome such a happy turn of events, but my current life is too blessed to surrender it for anything less. However, being bombarded by gentlemen who believe their lukewarm offers are heaven-sent is disheartening. And so very overwhelming, Bethany. I cannot get a moment’s peace.”
Pressing a finger to her temple, Felicity massaged the ache. “And it is all heaped on the business I have to attend to.”
“Have you not found a man of business to assist you?”
Felicity leveled an exasperated look at her friend. “Not one who suits my needs.”
Bethany nibbled on her lip, her brows twisting together. “And I fear I am no more useful in such matters than a sparrow, for I haven’t the slightest idea of how to handle any of it.”
Giving her friend a narrowed look, Felicity replied, “You are plenty useful, Bethany. Who else will listen to me complain at length about the blessings of inheriting a fortune?”
“And you do love to complain,” replied Bethany with a nod and a wry smile.
Felicity sent her friend a mock scowl, which earned her another grin in return. When it was clear that Bethany felt not the slightest bit of remorse, Felicity sighed. “I am just so excessively fatigued—body, mind, and soul.”
Bethany’s expression softened, her eyes filling with concern. “Perhaps you ought to consider retiring to Farleigh Manor for a few weeks. A bit of time in the country would do wonders for you. Since much of your business revolves around ledgers and correspondence, there is no reason you cannot maintain most of it while you are away.”
