Almost A Spinster (10 page)

Felicity tilted her head. She shouldn’t care about this, should avoid the subject, but she found herself curious nonetheless. “Why?”

“His mother and father were estranged. She took the younger child, Gabriel, and retired to the country when the children were quite small. The Duke took the older son and stayed in London and his other estates. From what I understand, Gabriel hardly saw his father until after Jonathon’s death.”

Again, Felicity flinched as a long buried pain surged back up, dulled but still in existence. Her only consolation was that since this new Duke had not been around all those years ago when… well, when the thing she refused to think about happened, at least he wouldn’t look at her with those cold eyes like his father had. Stare at her with accusation and distain.

At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.

She sighed as she reached for the sheet music and folded it away. Getting to her feet, she smiled at her companion, though she could feel that it was a weak rendition of her usual expression. Even for her dear Lady Stanton, she couldn’t muster up anything with real joy. Not now. Not when the past was pushing into the present.

“Are you departing?” Lady Stanton asked. “I thought you were going to stay for tea.”

She shook her head. “I know I promised, but I find myself suddenly tired. I should probably go and rest since I have the recital tomorrow.”

Lady Stanton tilted her head and her piercing green stare snagged Felicity’s. “Is something wrong, Felicity? You have not seemed yourself since you stopped playing.”

With a shrug, Felicity leaned forward to place a brief kiss on Lady Stanton’s cheek. “Of course I am myself. Who else would I be? I shall see you tomorrow for the recital.”

Though her companion seemed less than convinced, she nodded. “I would not miss it.”

With a slight curtsey and a nod for Lady Stanton’s maid, Felicity took her leave. But as she climbed into her father’s carriage, she leaned her head back against the leather seat with a sigh. Lady Stanton said she wasn’t herself. But who was she, really?

Sometimes, especially when thoughts of the past came rushing up to torment her, she just wasn’t sure.

#

Gabriel Morrison lifted his fingers to his temples and pressed, but nothing he did could ease the pressure that made his head throb. Certainly the droning voice of his solicitor did nothing to help. The man went on and on, occasionally running his finger over a crowded ledger or showing him a paper overflowing with his father’s illegible scribble.

“And so you can see, Your Grace, the financial situation is not at its best,” the man finished with a nod of his head, his tone as benign as if he’d been talking about the weather, not the overwhelming responsibilities Gabriel now faced… the ones that seemed to be getting more devastating by the moment.

“You’ve given me an enormous amount of information to absorb, Sanderson,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “And I’d like to review all of these records before we speak again and formulate some kind of plan to dig the Windsworth name out of these straits. Can you join me here again in… say a week’s time?”

The older gentleman got to his feet with a bow. “Of course, Your Grace. I will be here at any time that is convenient. And if you have any concerns or questions in the interim, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Gabriel motioned a farewell to the man as he picked up the top ledger with a grimace. It was going to take years to rebuild what his foolish father had so recklessly squandered. And that was just the money. The family reputation was another issue entirely.

“May I interrupt?”

He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway. He struggled to replace his undoubtedly dour expression with a smile as he got up and motioned to the place his solicitor just vacated. “Of course, please come in and sit with me.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind him and sat down. For a long moment, she only looked at him, her dark brown eyes, the ones he had often wished he inherited rather than the Windsworth green, watching him intensely.

“You are unhappy. Worried,” she said softly as she leaned back in her chair with an air of pained defeat. “How I wish I could have spared you all this.”

He winced. “You did, Mother. For many years you did. But now this is the way things must be. I cannot ask why or wish it otherwise. I must simply see this as a challenge. A duty to repair what many generations of sloth and waste decimated.” He tried to look cheery, but her concerned expression did not change. “It is what it is.”

“Yes. It is.” She nodded slowly and after a moment her demeanor shift. The optimism that was so much a part of her, despite the often painful life she had endured, shone through. “Perhaps it can be the beginning of a new era for the Windsworth Duchy. An era of pride. Of change. If anyone can alter this family’s reputation, it is you, Gabriel.”

He looked at the stacks of ledgers, the slash of red ink that showed how much had been lost. And thought of the stack of diaries he had uncovered just a week ago, detailing his father’s and brother’s underhanded deals and avoidance of duty and honor. Now those deeds were on his head. And he had to make reparation for them all before anyone could ever trust in the Windsworth name again.

“I have no other choice. Though Jonathon and Father certainly made things difficult for me.”

Her face took on a distant sadness. “That is my fault, in part. If I had insisted on removing Jonathon from your father’s influence, as I did with you, perhaps he would not have grown up to be his father’s son in every way. Perhaps he would not have made so many terrible mistakes… perhaps he would not be dead.”

Gabriel flinched. There were many mistakes. One, in particular, stood out in his mind. One stupid, foolish, utterly reckless act that was the first thing Gabriel had to atone for, since it had gone so long ignored.

“You did all you could, Mother. Father never would have allowed you to take the heir apparent from under his wing.”

Gabriel tried not to think about his own experiences with his hard, uncaring father after his brother’s death. Tried not to think of the even worse horrors Jonathon must have endured as a young boy. His actions as a man were almost forgivable considering.

Almost.

“Perhaps.” His mother’s voice was quiet. Strained. “But we shall never know now.”

For a short while, the room was silent as they each contemplated the past. The tick of the grandfather clock was the only accompaniment to the painful thoughts he knew from her expression that his mother was reliving.

Finally, she shook off the effects and smiled weakly. “But this mournful chatter does nothing to aid you. And that is what I long to do. So what are your plans? Is there anything I can do?”

Gabriel got up from his desk and paced over to the window. He looked down into the mangled gardens below. Those would need to be weeded, trimmed, replanted. It would be a slow process. Mirroring his own, perhaps. He needed to formulate a plan, start with one little weed and then the next. And then the next. Step by step, he could do this.

He had to.

“Mr. Sanderson was here earlier,” he said. “You probably saw him leave just before you joined me. He will be helping to formulate some kind of financial recovery, though I’m sure it will take time.”

“Good.” She nodded. “You’ve always had a good head for business.”

“With his assistance in that area, it will leave me free to pursue the repair of our social standing.” Gabriel flinched. Society was not his favorite place, he had avoided it when he could. But there was nothing to it. No avoiding it anymore.

“I still have a few friends and family members who are held in high regard in the
ton
,” his mother said. “I’m sure I could exert a bit of influence in that arena.”

Gabriel cast a glance over his shoulder at her. “I’m going to be married before the end of the year.”

His mother blinked a few times, her face blank as if she had not understood him clearly. “I-Gabriel what do you mean?”

“A Duke-” He stopped himself. “A respectable Duke should have a wife. Settling down will send a message to the
ton
that I don’t intend to follow in the footsteps of my father or my brother. And a wife’s dowry, if it is generous enough, will help to recover some of our losses.”

Gabriel clenched his fists at his sides. He wasn’t going to tell her that. It would only upset her beyond measure. And perhaps alter her feelings toward the woman Gabriel knew would soon enough be his wife. And he wanted his mother to like his wife. They would spend a good deal of time together, he was certain.

“She seems a good fit,” he merely said with a dismissive shrug. “But apparently Father and Jonathon wronged her father in a-a bargain some time ago. I doubt I will be welcomed into their home. But the family is holding a recital tomorrow to celebrate Lady Felicity’s talent at the pianoforte. Do you think your influence could garner me an invitation? I would sorely like to begin my courtship.”

His mother stared at him, mouth partly agape. “Gabriel, I don’t understand what has gotten into you. There is more to this than you are telling me. Honestly, you are frightening me.”

He sighed as he crossed the room to give her a brief hug. “I’m sorry, Mama. I do not mean to frighten you. And I concede there may be more to my decision than I can explain. But will you do this for me regardless of my silence on my true motives? I would be greatly appreciative.”

His mother tilted her head to stare up at him, her gaze searching his for a long moment. Finally, she drew in a harsh breath and nodded.

“Of course, Gabriel. I said I would do anything in my power to help you in your quest. And if this will assist you, I will do my best to make sure you are at the recital tomorrow.” She reached for his hands. “But my darling, I would hate to see you make a mistake in whom you choose to marry.” Her eyes clouded with tears as she drew away from him and headed for the office door. “That would be repeating
my
sins, not your father’s. And that would break my heart.”

Chapter Two

Felicity shook out her hands, stretching her fingers before she took her place at the pianoforte. She did her best to ignore the crowd. Though she had been performing publicly since she was little more than a girl, she hadn’t really been comfortable with all eyes on her since…

Oh, why did she keep thinking about
that
? She had stricken it from her mind long ago and it was best kept that way. She couldn’t let Lady Stanton’s news of the new Duke of Windsworth put her in a twist. It had nothing to do with her.

She bent her head and began to play, pouring all her tangled emotions into expressing the music. That was her one true escape. The one place she didn’t have to hide.

She was midway through the second song in her selection of five for the evening when she felt a shift. A change in the audience, in the very air. Normally, she was hardly aware of those around her at all while she played, but now that was different.

She continued to let her fingers move over the keys as she lifted her gaze and let it flit around the room. Lady Stanton was the first person she saw, sitting beside Jane and Wesley. She was smiling like a proud mother hen and Felicity briefly returned the smile.

Her parents were also beaming from their positions in the front row, full of pride that Felicity wasn’t entirely certain she deserved. Other friends watched, debutantes in their first season mostly sat politely, waiting for the musicale to end so they could pick up their flirtations at the soiree afterward.

And then her gaze found
him
. She was thankful that the notes she was meant to play were bold and powerful, because her fingers crashed against the keys before she could gather her composure and control their weight.

She had never seen Gabriel Morrison before in her life, but she was absolutely certain that the man standing in the back of the hall, watching her play like he was the only person in the audience, was him. The dark blond hair and bright green eyes that were so like his older brother’s were the first indications, but beyond those tell-tale signs… she just felt it in her bones. In the pit of her stomach.

Tingles rushed up her arms, raced through her bloodstream, lit all her nerve endings on fire. She didn’t know how she managed to finish the song she was playing, but she somehow found herself at the end nonetheless and the audience clapped.

Everyone but the new Duke of Windsworth. He just stared at her with the same cold detachment she had always received from his late father.

Great God, he knew the truth.

Felicity’s hands froze over the keys of the pianoforte and she felt the blood drain out of her cheeks to rush to her throbbing heart. She knew she should play the next song, but she couldn’t. All she could do was hear the screaming refrain in her mind.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Suddenly, her father was at her elbow.

“Is everything well, child? You look suddenly pale. Lady Stanton mentioned you left her early yesterday with complaints about being tired.”

Felicity stared up at her father’s handsome face. If she told him Gabriel Morrison was here, he would come to her rescue. He would throw the man into the street personally. But all that would serve would be to cause an enormous scene and make people ask questions. The kind of questions she had avoided thus far.

She was too old for saving now.