Rogues Gallery (61 page)

He managed the words in a joking fashion, but Felicia could see the doubt lingering in his eyes.

"Have you considered it was not a misspent youth? You may have been utterly wicked and dissolute, reveling in every depraved moment of your bawdy existence—"

He raised his eyebrows as if shocked, but his lips twitched with amusement.

"I merely repeat what I have recently experienced," she added with a grin that made him laugh. "But perhaps all of it, even your wretchedly selfish parents, served to prepare you for your current role. There can be no doubt what a devoted and loving father you are. I am certain there is none better."

Hugh appeared to consider that for a moment. He leaned in and kissed her once more. "I can only hope you are correct. For Lucinda's sake."

Felicia returned his kiss, slowly, and tenderly. She understood so much about her husband now, and it made her love him even more intensely than she thought possible. His heart had been betrayed too many times, and at too young an age. It would take time before he was willing to give it to her permanently.

She would have to remain patient, though she prayed it would not take decades. Until then she would give Hugh her love, doing her best to dispel his fears, about himself and his ability to protect his beloved daughter from harm.

Her kiss became more passionate, and he responded in equal measure.

"Come here, Lord Wastrel. I have a surprise I believe you will enjoy immensely."

Felicia did her best to stifle a yawn. She had wanted to stay abed this morning, but Great-Aunt Aurore had said she desired her niece's company, especially since they had seen so little of each other after the wedding. Felicia missed being in her husband's embrace, but she could not find it in her heart to decline her aunt's wistful invitation to sample the ices at Gunter's.

Still, her thoughts strayed to Hugh, and his demanding, yet exhilarating, lovemaking the past few nights. She would swear his passion had increased in intensity ever since he'd revealed his sad history with his parents, as well as his fears for Lucinda's future. It warmed her soul to think it was a sign of his burgeoning trust in her.

It also warmed other portions of her being, ones she intended to assuage by cornering Hugh for a few hours once she returned home. Until then, another dish of ices would have to serve as a temporary cooling mechanism.

"I need something different," Great-Aunt Aurore said emphatically, setting her spoon down.

"Did you wish to try the parmesan instead? I have heard many good things about the muscadine as well."

Great-Aunt clucked her tongue. "I have been discussing bonnets these past five minutes, Felicia, but you were not attending."

"My apologies. My mind is. . .elsewhere." She felt her cheeks heat, but she had no intention of divulging just where her thoughts had been roaming.

"Do not think I haven't noticed you pining away for your husband."

"I am not pining."

Great-Aunt rolled her eyes. "If anyone is well acquainted with pining, it is me."

Felicia pushed her dish aside. "Whenever I fear I am making little progress with Hugh, I have only to recall what you have endured over the years."

"I have not endured anything," her aunt scoffed. "I have spent these past decades loving Frederick, and knowing with absolute certainty he loves me."

"But you said you knew about pining—"

"Oh, I do." Great-Aunt grinned. "But I was talking about hats."

Felicia could not contain her laughter. "Tell me what you need. I suspect it is something grand."

"And large," Great-Aunt demonstrated, her hands spread wide. "With tremendous flowers."

"Those have not been in fashion for decades. You may have to create your own design."

"What an excellent notion! In truth, it would be a wonderful service to add to the elopement academy—"

Felicia held up a hand. "Do not let Hugh hear your suggestion. It will make him succumb to apoplexy."

Great-Aunt's sigh was a heavy one.

"Why did you need such a creation anyway? I cannot think of anywhere in London you could wear it. Have you been invited to a masquerade ball?"

"No, but what a lovely notion. I haven't been to one in ages." Great-Aunt smiled, in an almost secretive fashion, her earlier disappointment evaporating. "In my youth, masquerades were so delightfully risque. You never knew for certain who might be behind a mask. Perhaps a duke. Or maybe even a coachman."

Felicia nearly choked on the lemon ice she'd just put in her mouth. She had never considered the notion that Great-Aunt and Frederick had found ways to sneak away to indulge their feelings for each other. It would have been a clever way to spite the curse—and the restrictions of society—that kept them apart for decades.

Before Felicia could press her aunt for more information, Great-Aunt said excitedly, "That is where I saw her! It has taken me quite a long while, but now I remember—"

"Who?"

Great-Aunt's expression was nothing short of triumphant. "The woman at Hugh's betrothal ball." She chuckled. "His first one. Before you were wed."

"Yes, I know which one you mean. Since my own 'betrothal ball' occurred after the wedding."

Felicia could not hope to stop her thoughts from racing towards that particular evening, since it had been the commencement of many delightfully decadent nights with her husband.

She tapped her fingers on the table. What was Hugh doing at that moment? Did he spend as much time contemplating these insatiable stirrings as she did? Perhaps—

"Felicia!" Great-Aunt Aurore leaned forward, her mouth open to repeat her niece's name.

"My apologies!" She struggled to remember what they had been discussing. "You mentioned the woman from the betrothal ball—"

"Yes. She was at a masquerade—that is where I had seen her previously. Although it was many years ago, which is why I could not place her immediately."

"How can you be certain it was her? She was no doubt in costume then."

"True. She was dressed as a Greek goddess, complete with a long sweeping white gown, and a gold headdress. It was quite brilliant, since her actual name is Lady Aphrodite—" Aurore halted, her mouth open in shock.

Felicia grasped her aunt's hand. "Are you quite all right?"

"I cannot believe I forgot. That masquerade was the night Frederick and I fell in love." She blinked, as if trying to see that long-ago night more clearly. "It was mere moments after a conversation with this same woman."

Felicia gasped. "That is what happened to me! You cannot think—is she—"

"I am not quite sure what to think," Great-Aunt Aurore admitted. "Yet there are remarkable similarities in both our situations."

"She is so youthful," Felicia said. "Surely it cannot be the same person. How could that be possible?"

Great-Aunt merely shrugged.

Was this woman the source of their family curse? Felicia had not seen her since that ill-fated horse ride in Hyde Park. Perhaps all of it was an odd coincidence. But if it were not, if Lady Aphrodite was the reason they had been cursed with true love, they needed to seek out the woman, to discover what she could offer as a resolution for the two pairs of lovers.

Felicia laughed at the strange turn of events. It had been a complete surprise, one that would be hard to top, that was for certain.

"Lady Weyson?"

Felicia glanced up, half expecting to see Lady Aphrodite standing at their table, as if their conversation had conjured her into appearing. She nearly laughed at such a flight of fancy. Instead, it was a young woman Felicia had never seen previously. Yet the woman gazed intently, as though she were well acquainted with Felicia.

It was not entirely unexpected, since she was still quite notorious, despite her intentions and recent wedded state.

"Your ladyship, might I have a word with you? I have need of your help."

Felicia was torn, not wanting to appear ill-mannered. Still, it was one thing when people of her acquaintance asked for elopement assistance. She knew just how displeased Hugh would be once he learned it occurred with people to whom she had not even been introduced.

She did not want to incite his displeasure, not when he was finally beginning to trust her.

"I am sorry—"

Though it pained her to do so, Felicia gave the woman a regret-filled smile and turned away. She gave her attention to Great-Aunt Aurore once more, and waited to hear the disappointed woman's footsteps heading for the door.

Instead, she heard, "Your ladyship, I am Lucinda's mother."

***

H
ugh brought the stallion up short, right in front of the Enfield stables, and dismounted. Once he was done here, he would stop for a visit with Felicia's brother. Hopefully Tony would be there too, though he could only imagine what the man would have to say about his last encounter with Felicia.

Hugh laughed. He could not remember ever feeling so content. With himself. His life. And most especially his wife. Several lust-filled thoughts immediately surfaced. On the morrow he would show Felicia a variety of reasons for staying abed much later than was her custom.

Until then, he had another surprise in mind for her.

He glanced around and finally noticed an older gentleman demonstrating to some younger stable boys the proper method for brushing down the horses. It was just the man he sought.

"Frederick," he said, clapping the coachman on his shoulder. "Might I have a word with you?"

"Yes, your lordship," he answered with a nervous gulp. "Of course."

They walked to the back of the stables, towards an empty stall, where they could speak freely without the other men overhearing them. Frederick's eyes darted anxiously, but Hugh waited until they were quite alone before saying anything further.

"I understand you will not make an honest woman of Great-Aunt Aurore."

The man started, and then blushed to the tips of his ears. Hugh did not know it was possible for skin to turn such a deep shade of red.

"Your lordship," Frederick said, his eyes lowered slightly, but his voice defiant. "It would be unseemly for her to marry a lowly coachman such as myself."

"But you do love her."

"Of course I do. I will love her until my dying day."

Hugh gnawed on his lip to keep from smiling. "I hope you will not take offense, Frederick, but you are no longer a young man, so your dying day may be sooner than you anticipate."

Frederick blinked a few times as he mulled that thought.

"And while I suspect Great-Aunt Aurore will manage to outlive all of us," Hugh continued, "there is no guarantee of that."

"I cannot disagree with you, my lord. But what am I to do? I have no way of providing her with all the niceties of life. I can scarce afford even one of those bonnets she loves so much."

Hugh felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Clearly he wanted to give the love of his life everything she deserved, but he did not want to be put in the position of denying her those luxuries. A man's pride was very important, and easily bruised. How could he help the man maintain his pride and still have the woman he had loved for close to half a century?

"If I can find a way, you will be willing to marry her?"

Frederick's eyes lit up with hopefulness, but he managed to tamp it down. "It would be such a scandal."

"Well, as I have learned, thanks to my bride, there is scandal, and then there is Scandal. Felicia and her aunt will always have scandals around them. It is part and parcel of who they are. I doubt your marriage would be a Scandal. But even if it were, I am convinced it can be weathered."

Frederick continued to look doubtful.

"Will you at least consider this? So I can inform Felicia you have moved, even the slightest degree, from your previous stance? She is convinced her happiness cannot be complete until the curse on her aunt has been reversed."

Frederick swore under his breath. "Your pardon, my lord," he added in a rush.

Hugh laughed. "This curse business has caused me no end of consternation. I've heard plenty from Felicia, but I feel the need to add to my education from a male who has actually experienced it."

Frederick's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I do not know that I believe in a curse, my lord. But I can tell you one thing for certain: I have been nothing but blessed knowing that Aurore loves me."

It was Hugh's turn to blink. He felt the same way about Felicia. At first he had considered the effects of the curse an inconvenience, an annoyance, even the harbinger of unwanted scandal.

But now he realized how empty his life would be if Felicia were absent from it, and she was there in large part because of that curse. He loved her sprightly chatter about it, even if he was not a believer, as well as her enthusiastic plans to make sure the curse was fulfilled, both for herself and her beloved aunt.

"We are lucky men, Frederick. Quite lucky indeed."

"You will hear no argument from me, my lord."

"I can count on you to reconsider your position?"

Frederick took a deep breath and held it for a moment. "I will indeed consider it, my lord."

Hugh nodded. He had hoped to tell Felicia he had convinced Frederick to make a race for the border with Great-Aunt Aurore, but at least he had made a small amount of progress.

Both of them grinned, bound together by the family curse, and the women who loved them.

"Thank you, Frederick. You have made my day a great deal brighter—"

"My lord!" One of the Enfield footmen rushed up, out of breath. "I have been sent to fetch you. Miss Lucinda has been hurt."

Felicia gaped at the woman calling herself Lucinda's mother.

The woman who had died many months previously. For the first time in her life, Felicia understood Hugh's dislike of surprises. This one quite eclipsed any she had been able to produce.

"You are Marguerite?"

The woman nodded.

"And you are not dead."

The woman shook her head.

"Why did you say you were?" Felicia blurted.

Marguerite burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. "Because I am the most dreadful mother in the world."