Rogues Gallery (46 page)

"I sincerely wish the best for you, Hugh. And Miss Lansdale." Felicia's heart clenched, but she managed to add with a bright smile, "Please give her my warmest regards."

"Thank you, Felicia. I will."

Hugh lifted her hand to his lips and deposited a brief, almost brotherly, kiss. She could feel the skin start to sizzle beneath her kid glove. Heat blossomed in her chest and rose up her neck. Other startling, yet quite delectable, sensations commenced in her nether regions.

She almost gasped. Were these the
stirrings
Georgiana had described with such enthusiasm?

If so, Felicia had been doubly cursed.

She tugged her hand from Hugh's and darted towards the open door leading onto the terrace. She did not want to see his puzzled expression, or try to decipher what he might be thinking about her flighty behavior.

She had plenty to puzzle out herself, namely, why had falling instantly in love made everything so difficult?

***

H
ugh watched, mystified, as Felicia headed outdoors, her fashionable silk skirts flying behind her. He had always enjoyed the lively exchanges with Felicia, along with her willingness to speak her mind with him. She never pulled her punches, verbal or otherwise.

He grinned at a long-ago memory, one which had hobbled him for several days.

But this was even more unusual than ever. Insisting he marry her? When his duties in the receiving line were done, he would seek out her brother and ask what the devil Felicia was up to.

"What a dashing young woman," Penelope commented.

Her lips pursed, just slightly, as if she was unwilling to exhibit any more displeasure than that. For some reason, her response rankled.

"She is an old family friend," Hugh said. "I have known her since we were children."

"She seems quite spirited."

He shot a glance at her, hoping to see some kind of emotion. Envy perhaps? There was nothing, however. He had to chide himself once more for wanting Penelope to be anything other than what she was. He had selected her to be his child's mother precisely because she was nothing like Felicia.

Then why was he so bedeviled all of a sudden?

He rubbed at the odd tingling in his lips, which had commenced the moment he'd kissed Felicia's hand. His arm was still heated from the brief instant when she had touched his arm. It had not only planted the most impossible ideas into his head, but made him angry at their impossibility.

Before tonight, he had been pleased at his good fortune in finding just the right woman for his bride. Now dissatisfaction continued to creep in, taking up residence in his brain as he found fault with everything he had once admired about Penelope.

To chase away his doubts, he sneaked a kiss against her ear. Her skin instantly pinkened, and he grinned at her delightful modesty. Yes, that was precisely the sort of woman he needed. Not a hellion like Felicia.

His rebellious body began to throb at the mere thought of Felicia. Or perhaps it was the mention of her being a hellion, and how she might have exhibited her passionate side if they had been the ones to marry. He tossed the ridiculous notion aside, regretfully, along with the guilt accompanying it, and entwined his fingers with Penelope's.

He was nearly swamped with an unexpected feeling of betrayal. Even stranger, it felt as though he was betraying Felicia, not the woman who would soon be his wife.

***

"I
t does not appear to be working as it should," Ares said under his breath. He continued to peruse the crowded ballroom, even though the young miss was no longer to be seen. "Perhaps—"

"Everything is proceeding smoothly," Aphrodite replied, but she would admit it was following a slightly different path than she had anticipated.

She smiled warmly at some guests passing by, while Ares gave a warning glare to a gentleman who did not mask his appreciation of Aphrodite's charms. She placed a hand on Ares' forearm, drawing his attention back to her before he decided to challenge the admirer to a duel or some other manly death sport.

"If it is proceeding smoothly, then why is he not in love with her yet?" Ares asked. "I recall Lord Rakehell falling instantly in love, almost the moment he set eyes on Miss Kirkwood."

Aphrodite bit her lip to keep a smile at bay. What could be more endearing than the God of War fretting about her matchmaking efforts amongst the mortals?

"Lady Felicia is clearly besotted with him," Aphrodite said, "which she was not at the outset. So I am quite pleased with the progression of events."

It had been a close call when the young woman's aunt had seemed to recognize Aphrodite. Fortunately she'd been able to make her escape into the crowd of guests before recognition dawned. Aphrodite did not possess the ability to eradicate memories from a mortal's mind, which was unfortunate, since it meant she could only visit every other generation.

She had forgotten what an inconvenience that could be. Especially when there was unfinished business to attend to.

"I merely wonder if you should have utilized the handkerchief, as you did previously." Ares cocked his head while he studied her. "You still have not explained how that worked."

"I cannot use the same means with each couple, dearest. It would diminish the entertainment for us if I did." She gave him a flirtatious smile. "It would also reduce my enjoyment at watching you attempt to discover how my methods actually work."

"So when you spoke only with her, and not with him, that was not a deliberate attempt to prolong our stay?"

"I know how you wish to return home to Mount Olympus." Aphrodite stepped closer, her body brushing against his. "But we have just commenced this adventure. Surely you can give it a bit more time."

"I can do that," he said, though he tried to hide his unhappy tone. He was less successful in hiding his body's reaction to her.

She moved forward, until the only thing separating them was the threat of scandal if a dowager spied them in this fashion. Just as she'd hoped, Ares' pique dissipated. The rest of him remained steadfast.

Since he cared nothing for the
ton
's concerns about propriety, and was willing to battle those who might challenge him, he looped his arms about Aphrodite's waist. "We should slip out onto the terrace for a short while."

She tilted her head to give him an arch look. "I have told you many times previously. I will not pretend to be part of the statuary. I do not find that at all amusing."

Ares laughed, a husky sound that made her melt inside, as always. "I merely wanted to take a stroll in a more deserted portion of the property. Someplace we could
explore
."

His emphasis on the last word made Aphrodite shiver, even though the place was overheated from the abundance of guests. No matter what differences they might have, they were perfectly suited when it came to pleasing each other.

"What a delightful suggestion, my love. Afterwards, we can return and see what progress has been made."

"Perfect," Ares said, and she knew he was no longer speaking of the young couple.

"Great-Aunt, this curse is worse than I ever imagined. I find my true love—finally!—after numerous false starts. Yet he doesn't fall in love with me. I expected it to occur the instant I tumbled head over heels. Instead, he is betrothed to another."

"Oh, no, the curse does not work that way," Great-Aunt Aurore said, a bit too cheerfully.

Felicia halted in the middle of the milliner's establishment, placing herself in front of her aunt to distract her from all the colorful hats displayed on the nearby table.

"But I am quite certain you said it did."

Her aunt shook her head emphatically. Somehow, the oversized hat perched on her grey curls managed to stay in place.

"Yes, you did. You also said I must find my one true love before I reached my twenty-second birthday."

"Well, if I did, I did not mean to give that impression. Not at all." Great-Aunt Aurore's eyes continued to dart towards a garish bit of headgear on a stand to her left. "Love isn't like something you catch with a butterfly net so you can pin it in a case, for all the world to see."

"Then what is it like?" Felicia said with more than a trace of exasperation.

Great-Aunt Aurore just waved her hand airily, but Felicia would not be put off.

"I have heard all my life of this curse, and now you tell me it is not what I believe it to be?" Felicia narrowed her eyes. "Cousin Tony is correct. This is merely a Banbury tale you have told me all these years. To keep me quiet as a child."

"It is not a Banbury tale!" Her aunt's impressive bosom heaved as if the indignation was ready to burst through the silk bombazine material. "And telling you about the curse was not the only way to keep you quiet when you were a child. It was the most effective, granted, but—"

She went back to perusing the milliner's wares, intent on adding even more boxes to the pile she had already accumulated.

Felicia reached for the bonnet Great-Aunt was admiring, placing it on her own head instead. "I think I might get this one. Do you like it?" She twirled, and adjusted the brim, stretching Great-Aunt's patience as far as possible in the hope of getting some much-needed answers.

"Felicia—"

"What must I do to ensure Hugh falls in love with me?"

Great-Aunt Aurore's face remained impassive, which made Felicia instantly suspicious.

"What are you not telling me?"

Her aunt clamped her lips shut and then casually strolled towards the open door. Felicia rushed to it first, slamming the door before Great-Aunt could make an escape. She even blocked it with her body, just to make certain.

"Felicia, dear, these things must run their course."

"But how long does that course take?"

She was impatient, naturally, but she was also heartsick, and wracked with guilt, and ready to retire to one of her family's country estates until Hugh's nuptials were over. Especially since there was little expectation that she would ever be the bride.

"I don't really know for certain," Great-Aunt replied, her voice filled with sympathy. "I have only known one other person who was cursed."

"One?" Felicia nearly shrieked. She lowered her voice to a normal register. "You led me to believe the curse was widespread. I was convinced I was the sole person not feeling the effects of this curse. And now you tell me you only know of one person?"

Great-Aunt Aurore swallowed, with difficulty, as if a lump of burnt bread was lodged in her throat. "It does not mean the curse is not real."

Felicia tapped her foot, crossing her arms at the same time. "Who else was cursed? Am I acquainted with this person?"

"Yes. Yes, you are." Great-Aunt Aurore blinked a couple times and then blurted, "I am the one who was cursed."

Felicia could not breathe for several moments. The words Great-Aunt had uttered refused at first to sink into Felicia's brain.

"If you are the one who was cursed—does this mean you found your true love?"

"Yes."

Felicia waited, but Great-Aunt Aurore was in no hurry to add any further information.

"Did you marry him?"

Felicia did not recall ever hearing her aunt mention a marriage. But until today she had not known her aunt was part of the family curse. Clearly there was much she needed to learn.

"No, I did not marry him." Great-Aunt sniffed, though there was no evidence of tears. She seemed miffed rather than saddened.

"Tell me what happened."

Felicia took Aurore's arm and led her to a nearby brocade settee. This story would take some time to relate. In fact, she might need to ask the proprietress for some tea. Or perhaps something stronger, depending on what her aunt divulged.

Great-Aunt Aurore sat and then folded her hands in her lap. "It was not considered a suitable match, so I was not permitted to marry him."

Felicia's irritation dissolved at that sad news. "But you fell in love with him?"

"I did. I still love him."

"We should find him!" Felicia glanced a little more kindly at her aunt. "That is, if he is still alive."

"Of course he is still alive," Great-Aunt Aurore snorted.

Felicia's heart sank. "So he is wed to another."

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then what is stopping you from marrying him now?"

Great-Aunt Aurore looked up at the ceiling. Then she studied the hats to her right, and when she had seemingly examined every bonnet there, she glanced down at her hands and began plucking at the fabric of her skirt.

Felicia grabbed Aurore's hand. "You know those tricks will not work with me. I have been using them for years, so I am well aware of your techniques."

Great-Aunt Aurore beamed. "You make me so proud, Felicia. You have been such an apt pupil, such a devoted student—"

Felicia ahemed.

"Yes, well, I am cursed because I cannot convince my young man to marry me."

"Young man!"

Great-Aunt Aurore chuckled. "Well, he was a young man. Once. A long time ago, when I was your age. I remember the first time I saw him." She blushed a deep rosy hue. "He cut such a fine figure—"

Her aunt appeared ready to wax poetic about the stirrings she'd experienced decades ago, proving just how powerful the sensations must be. Still, Felicia decided it would be best to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"You saw him and lost your heart instantly."

"Yes. And just because he is now old and wrinkled does not mean I love him any less."

Felicia bit back a grin. Her aunt would likely never see herself as older, which was quite refreshing, and in keeping with her youthful spirits.

"So he will not marry you?"

"No, he will not. And I have asked him to change his mind, at least once every year. Since I love him, that is my curse, because I could not fall in love with anyone else."

Felicia's hopefulness plummeted, for it did not seem likely that she could convince Hugh to marry her either. This curse had effectively doubled the spinster population in her family.

"But why does he continue to refuse you?"