Page 21 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

It was, indeed, an indelicate question. Inappropriate in many ways, too, she well knew…yet he had a point. And stranger still, his concern wasn’t patronizing. He did not seem to pity her for her unmarried state nor see her as an inconvenience to be managed. He simply wanted to ensure she was comfortable.

How rare. How unexpectedly kind.

Felicity swallowed. She supposed that as a member of his household, even if she was not precisely his responsibility, he had a right to concern himself with such matters. Even if the discussion was a little…unsavory.

“I am not a pauper,” she said, hands tightening around the arms of the chair. “I have my own monthly stipend from the inheritance my parents left me, along with a generous gift from my late brother’s will. It is a modest amount, all told, but it is enough to set up a small household for myself, or procure rented rooms in a respectable neighborhood in Bath, if I should wish.”

“Hm.” Her host regarded her seriously for another moment. “There is an amount set aside, in Price’s will, for a paid companion for Daphne. If you would benefit from receiving such funds⁠—”

“No, I thank you,” she said at once, interrupting him with a flush to her cheeks. “Daphne is my niece. It is my duty to look after her so long as I am able—I would never, I could never dream of accepting a wage for such a thing.” Felicity shuddered, the mere thought repellent. “Leave it to go to her when she weds.”

“You truly have enough?” The man regarded her with an expression which had likely served him well in the army. It was serious. A lesser woman might have ducked her head beneath such a grave stare.

Felicity tipped her chin up. “More than is necessary, Colonel Halstead.”

“Just Halstead is fine,” he said, then continued before she could protest that familiarity. “If that is true, Miss Price, then I am content. But should you need anything at all, I will gladly lend my assistance. I understand Daphne must attend all manner of events, and I know female wardrobes are far more extensive than a man’s, so you will likely require as much in the way of gowns and finery as she will. You must both be turned out in your best to impress the families of potential suitors.”

That thought had not occurred to her, and the realization that her own modest attire could reflect poorly on Daphne silenced the protests rising to her lips. Bother. “You…you may have a point, Colonel.”

“Halstead,” he repeated quietly. “Please.”

She shook her head, the suggestion utterly at odds with her feelings. “I cannot possibly be on such familiar terms with you, sir.”

“Everyone outside of this house, all the servants, call me by my rank,” he said, his voice low. Almost sad, she thought. “At times—well, it feels as though I have never left the army. And besides,” his tone changed to something lighter, though it struck Felicity as a false levity. “We are comrades in arms now, joined by our cause. That makes us equals, Miss Price, so I must insist, call me Halstead. At least when we are in this house, or when others cannot hear us.”

The request was a simple one, and it was the only thing he had asked of her when she had demanded so much of him. True, Felicity had done it all for Daphne, not to earn the man’s good opinion; but he was a good man, and he had agreed to do everything he could for his new ward.

Including keeping Felicity in his home.

“Very well,” she said at last. “Halstead. Will you call me Price, then?”

“That was what I called your brother.” His smile reappeared.

“And what his other friends called him,” she said, her heart aching at her loss. She knew from experience that the ache would never fully go away, merely lessen with time. “I suppose it must be Felicity, then. I have no other names or titles.”

“I could give you one. You would make a fierce captain.” Though he said the words without a smile, his eyes twinkled, and she realized he was…teasing her.

The stoic, proper colonel, teasing her!

Truly, she ought to insist on being Miss Price and nothing more. That would be the proper, respectable thing to do. A very spinsterly thing to do…which made her very much not want to do it. “Very well,” she said sternly, attempting not to smile. “I will be Miss Price in formal occasions, and you may call me ‘Captain’ in company and ‘Felicity’ in the house.”

A broad grin broke out across his face, making an already impressive visage suddenly quite attractive. It was dangerous, how a grin transformed him. Dangerous because it made her want to see it again.

Good heavens. The man had the sort of rugged attractiveness to him that British ladies thought all soldiers ought to have.

Felicity felt the blush flooding up her neck again, and quickly jumped to her feet. If she moved quickly enough, she might escape before the heat made it into her cheeks. “Thank you for letting me stay for Daphne, Colonel. Halstead. I mean—yes. Thank you. I will let her know the happy news at once.” She curtsied as he rose to his feet, whirled around and hurried to the door.

“Of course,” she heard him say. “I will see you both at dinner?”

Felicity paused in the doorway, barely looking over her shoulder. “Yes, of course. Until then.” And did not wait a moment more to disappear from sight.

Blushing! Her! How could her body betray her so? And why? Of course, he had said kind things. And he was a handsome man. But that was no reason for her to flush like an addlepated schoolgirl.

How silly of her. Perhaps she had merely been overexcited by the good news. Yes, that had to be it: she was staying with Daphne. Relief had strengthened her reactions. And the Colonel—Halstead, that was. Halstead had been the source of the good news, so of course the blush had come on in his presence. It would not happen again.

At least, Felicity hoped it would not happen again.

Chapter Seven