Page 9 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“Yes, Aunt Felicity.” Daphne kissed her cheek. “I hope everything goes well.” She opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, giving her aunt one last, tremulous smile before closing the door.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Felicity turned to retrace her steps to the drawing room. “I am not going anywhere,” she repeated to herself in the quiet corridor. She had to be strategic, for Daphne’s sake. This battle would not be won through sheer force of will. “I must not be ruled by frustration.” She paused before the drawing room door and finding it already open, the fire crackling again, the candles still lit. Edward Halstead stood with his back to the door, elbow on the mantel, staring deep into the embers.

He had been in the military—served his king and country. Anthony’s commanding officer. If her brother had admired him, Colonel Halstead was not a bumbling fool, but likely an intelligent man who had simply never been around women. She had to find a way to position herself as indispensable to him rather than intrusive.

Once again, Felicity let her eyes sweep across the room. It was stark, masculine, practical. No fripperies. Nothing to delight the eye. But it wasn’t dirty, the furniture was sturdy and well made—like the man himself. She glanced at his broad back, his tall form slightly hunched, was still imposing. Truly, she ought to be intimidated at the mere size of him.

But she could not afford to be. Felicity tried to calm her rapidly fluttering heart. He was hardly to blame or to credit for his size, though he had lived a different life from hers. One of battlefields, not drawing rooms.

Felicity cleared her head of thoughts and entered the room with a purposeful stride, the soft heels of her slippers making only the slightest click on the wood floor. “Colonel Halstead. You wished to speak with me?”

He turned at the sound of her voice, his green-brown eyes meeting her gaze without hesitation. “I did.” He paused, then nodded to her. “This may take a few moments. Please, sit.”

For a moment, she considered where to settle. Not the settee again—that might make the man think he could sit beside her, and she would look small, unimposing in a seat made for two. So, she chose the chair where he had sat before. She went to it directly, sat and smoothed the skirts of her gown, then looked up at him. Eyebrows raised. Expectant.

One corner of his mouth ticked upward, as though she had amused him, but he sat on the settee across the rug from her. He looked calm rather than put out, though he clearly did not regard her with complete confidence. Why would he? He draped one arm along the arm of the settee and reset his other hand on his thigh, tapping his fingers for a moment.

Then he exhaled, the sound heavy. “You do not approve of my guardianship.”

She had to give him credit for his directness. A statement, then, not a question. “I do not approve of your inexperience.”

A flicker of something crossed his eyes. Amusement? Frustration? Or perhaps some odd combination of both. “I have managed estates, commanded men, navigated war. And yet you believe I cannot manage one young lady?”

Her niece’s plea at the forefront of her mind, Felicity kept her tone even. “It is not about managing her, sir. It is about understanding Daphne—and you do not understand what it means to prepare a young woman for Society. The fact that she is grieving only complicates matters.”

He leaned back slightly, and the fingers on the arm of the settee tapped softly against the upholstery. “Then perhaps you will enlighten me.”

A skip to her pulse made Felicity stiffen, though with surprise rather than displeasure. Had he really invited her to educate him? How unlike a man. Men, in her limited experience, did not often ask for a woman’s opinions. They took what they needed, left when they were done. If this one thought to dismiss her after a polite hearing, he would find she had built her arguments to be not only persuasive—but permanent.

Felicity tilted her head to one side. “Do you truly wish to learn, or are you humoring me?”

The Colonel’s lips twitched, and she almost grew angry. How dare he laugh at her?

Yet the anger dissipated into caution as he nodded deeply. “I wish to learn, Miss Price. Whether you are capable of teaching me remains to be seen.”

The opportunity to outline all her reasons for remaining close to Daphne, as a companion if not a guardian, had arrived far sooner than she thought it would. It appeared he was not going to ignore her, nor dismiss her without warning. He was asking for her to present her argument, the same one she had prepared from the moment she learned Daphne would not come under her protection.

She had prepared for this. Now all she had to do was perform.

Tucking her emotions carefully behind a mask of calm, Felicity launched into her list of arguments. “Daphne’s education is sufficient for a young lady of her station, but there is much she has not learned, things a gentleman would not even consider. A governess has taught her literature, languages, art, and such things are important—but Daphne knows nothing of the nuances of Society. Only another woman can guide her on how to behave in London’s drawing rooms, ballrooms, and markets. It is not sufficient to be well-mannered. One must also be perceptive, discerning, wise in choosing one’s company.”

Colonel Halstead raised his eyebrows at her. “You have experience in these places, of course. I cannot argue that.” He tapped the arm of the chair again. “You speak, in part, of her maintaining a respectable reputation.”

“A reputation is all a lady has to rely upon most of the time, Colonel Halstead,” Felicity stated with a firmness he could not dare to argue with. “My niece may now be an heiress, but that brings with it more dangers than protections. A woman’s reputation is everything. Every part of her is considered when she enters Society, the clothes she wears, the music she plays, the theatricals she attends, and the company she keeps. To stay abreast of all of it is a demanding task. Not one for a mind divided between her and other matters, such as businesses and estates.”

The corner of his lips tipped up again. “You propose delegation?”

An argument, a metaphor he might understand entered her mind, and Felicity spoke it at once. “There is a reason one man alone cannot command an entire army, sir, so he relies upon officers to see to matters he cannot attend to himself.”

The Colonel leaned back somewhat. “Point taken. What else ought I to know about Daphne’s entrance into Society?”

“Oh.” Felicity folded her hands in her lap, gripping her own fingers. He was…actually listening to her. She could not afford to stumble now. “Goodness, where to start. There is more to it than simply attending a few balls and simpering at dinners. It is a strategic endeavor, one that requires careful management.” Calmly, or at least far more calmly than she had thought possible, she explained, “A young lady’s first Season is crucial. Besides keeping her reputation spotless, her suitors must be well vetted. Her name must be introduced in the right circles. Daphne must learn how to reject unwanted advances without causing offense, to recall the names of those she should associate with and those she must avoid—all without causing gossip. She must recognize the difference between a charming rake and a steady, respectable man⁠—”

“And you know the difference between two such characters?” Colonel Halstead interrupted.

She could not tell if he was amused or mocking her, only that his smile was more on display than before. Felicity swallowed back her irritation. “Despite the fact that I am an unmarried spinster I can, in fact, judge character with some success. I also know who to ask when I cannot find the answers on my own.” It pricked her pride to mention her unwed status. Yet what else could he have alluded to, with a question such as that?

His expression swiftly sobered. “I did not mean any insult, Miss Price. Forgive me if I have caused harm.”