Rogues Gallery (63 page)

***

H
ugh did not know precisely how long he waited for Felicia to return. It might have been a quarter hour, or perhaps it was twice that. He paced the room, recalling her parting words, ready to refute it as soon as she re-appeared.

He glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel, ticking away in its rhythmic fashion while he waited. He sat in a nearby chair, crossed his legs, and waited some more.

Finally his heart gave a sharp pang, delivering the news he did not want to accept.

Felicia would not be reappearing.

He had done his utmost to prevent experiencing such heartache ever again, but despite his efforts, he had fallen headlong in love with his wife, and now. . .

Yet it was not falling in love that had caused this unbearable pain in his chest. No, that was the result of driving Felicia away while she mistakenly believed she would never have his love. He had persuaded her his heart was locked away, and even worse, that he would curse their children to view love in the same fashion.

The truth was he was unwilling to spend a single minute of his future without Felicia safeguarding his heart, and their children's.

She had demonstrated on a daily basis how much she loved him and Lucinda, and yet he had accused her of his parents' crimes, ones she had never committed. He had sought the perfect mother, and wife, and then when she had unexpectedly fallen into his life, he had nearly let his fears steal their future happiness.

He stood, just as the door opened slowly. His heart beat with agonizing hopefulness. He was indeed a lovesick fool, for he could not wait to have Felicia rush into his arms, smothering him with kisses. He would spend the next eternity begging her to forgive him for being blinded by all of his past fears.

"Papa?"

Hugh found himself grinning when he saw Lucinda peering around the door.

"Poppet, I distinctly remember telling you to rest from your earlier injury. Do you recall that too?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "But I am all rested now. See?"

He laughed as he held his arms open for her. She scampered into them, and he hugged her tightly, grateful for her unending exuberance.

"Is there any likelihood you shall ever heed my suggestions?"

She seemed to consider that notion for a moment. "Maybe tomorrow."

He chuckled. Sometimes she was so much like Felicia—

"Papa, I have to tell you something." Her mouth twisted into a familiar expression of displeasure.

"What is it?"

"Mama is not happy. I heard her crying, and that made me very sad."

His wife. And he had been the one to finally make her cry.

Hugh swallowed his dismay. Felicia was the most stalwart female he knew, rising to the challenge no matter what was presented. He chided himself for waiting too long to go to her with his apology.

"And she wants to pinch someone's pigheaded—"

Hugh hid a relieved smile in Lucinda's curls. Felicia's tears were angry ones, giving him cause for hope. If he was lucky, Felicia would pinch some long overdue sense into him.

Lucinda leaned back to look into his eyes. "What did that mean, Papa?"

"It means your papa has been very naughty."

Her expression instantly turned sympathetic. He could only imagine what she thought a naughty papa deserved for punishment.

He also thought about what he wanted for Lucinda, and all of the children Felicia would bless him with one day. He wanted to give them the legacy of two parents who loved each other immeasurably. He had no intentions of smiting his sons and daughters with the curse of fearing love, all because it might one day bring heartache.

"Lucinda—"

He started to ask if she missed Marguerite. His daughter had lost a parent, as he had, at a young age. But to Hugh's immense joy, it had not hampered her ability to love a new mother, or even a papa she had not known she had. He was bound to learn a lot from his loving, big-hearted child.

In the end, he decided to leave that particular discussion for another day—when Felicia was there to help him through whatever potential emotional pitfalls might result. For now, he was content that Lucinda was happy, or would be, once he persuaded Felicia to forgive him.

"Lucinda, I must talk with your mama. Which means I need you to stay with Nurse for the next while." He gave her his most stern expression, not knowing if it would have the desired effect. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes!"

Her eager agreement made him instantly suspicious. "While I always admire your tenacity, poppet, I can assure you this is not the moment to negotiate for a pony."

She crossed her arms and gave him a dark look. Hugh had to turn his head away quickly before she saw him grinning. She was always going to be a headstrong, willful child, and he felt an instant's pity for anyone who dared to cross her in the future.

Thankfully she had a soft spot for her poor befuddled Papa.

He gave her a big squeeze. "I love you, Lucinda."

She had proved to be his salvation, in more ways than he had even imagined on the day she arrived in his life. He would always worry and fret about her. That was part and parcel of being a little girl's papa.

Fortunately he had been blessed to fall in love with the perfect mother, who could help him when he faltered, something which was bound to happen frequently, and who still loved him despite all his missteps.

"I love you too, Papa." Lucinda wriggled out of his embrace, and gave him a big kiss on his cheek. "Tell Mama I love her."

He gave her cheek a kiss too. "I will."

He couldn't wait to tell Felicia how much he loved her.

Hugh lifted a trembling hand to open the door to Felicia's bedchamber.

It was locked.

He nearly snorted at his own foolish expectations. Felicia was as fierce as his daughter, even more so when she had been wronged. And he had wronged her unmercifully.

He stalked to his own bedchamber. Once inside, he paced, wishing he had some grand gesture at his disposal. "And here I was counseling Simon to employ this tactic. I have nothing now, when I most need it."

He glanced towards the connecting door. What a vision Felicia had been, the night of their wedding. She would always keep him off balance. There was nothing he wanted more, at this moment, or for the future.

He strode toward the door, resting his forehead against the barrier between him and his wife.

"Felicia," he said, not knowing if she could hear him. "Felicia, I know you will forgive me. Not because I deserve it," he hastened to add, before she could crash through the doorway and plant him a well-earned facer. "But because you are generous, and kind, and most of all compassionate. I have done nothing today to earn that from you, but I pray you will be merciful, and allow me to explain."

He waited but there was nothing to indicate she was listening to him. He sighed. There seemed no hope for him after all.

All at once, he stumbled forward, his hands outspread to rebalance himself. He nearly righted himself by grabbing on to Felicia, but the expression on her face halted that notion. He was gratified to see that her tears had ceased, though her eyes were red-rimmed, so it had only been recently.

More importantly, her cheeks were stained with red, and it was quite obvious it was from anger.

He nearly sagged with relief. He much preferred an angry Felicia to a sad one. He bit back a smile just in time. It would not do for him to anticipate victory before it was in hand.

"Felicia, I pray you will give me a moment to explain myself."

She continued to hold onto the door. He hoped that did not mean she meant to slam it into him. He edged closer to it, hoping to block it if she did have such plans.

"Do not attempt your seductive wiles on me," she said. "I am quite immune to them. At least at present."

"Fine. I shall reserve my seductive wiles for a later time. Perhaps after you have concluded tearing a strip from my hide. I will not object so long as it brings you pleasure."

She narrowed her eyes. Her hands balled into fists, so he stepped back a pace. Still, her anger was a mirror of her passion, and her body exhibited similar reactions. How could he not respond to those visual cues? Though if he did, she was likely to render him a eunuch. He had to dispel her anger, and quickly.

"I am a poor excuse for a husband. I understand that. I have blamed my own parents for being such a dreadful example." He saw her features soften slightly. "Yet I cannot blame them for my own failings. My own fears."

He saw the fierceness in her expression change to curiosity. "You feared being a husband?"

He shook his head. "I feared I was unable to be a good husband. The husband you deserve. How could I hope to measure up to this mythical man you were fated to fall in love with?"

She shook her head, as if she was resigned to conversing with a simpleton, but at least she stepped away from the door, and closer to him. She was not likely to slam the door into him now. His optimism rose.

"Hugh, I was not looking for a myth. I was looking for my one true love. No one was more dismayed than me to learn it was you."

He choked out a laugh. "You were dismayed? I thought you had fallen instantly in love—"

"I did! And I was elated, beyond belief. Then I saw it was you and I nearly yelled at the fates. Why would my one true love be you, who not only was the one I'd known since I was a child, but was betrothed to another!"

"If that is the only reason you were dismayed—ouch!"

How had she gotten close enough to pinch him without him noticing?

"How could I hope to prove I loved you if it appeared I was still Flighty Felicia? Destroying your betrothal, wreaking havoc with your plans, ensuring the
ton
would think I was merely on another lark." She sighed. "I tried to abandon this endeavor. But it was not possible. So I began to believe we were meant to be together after all. But it appears I was wrong about that as well."

He stepped closer, wanting her in his embrace, but not entirely sure he could prevent further pinching from her. He waited until her arms were at her sides and then he wrapped his tightly around her.

"You are not wrong," he said. "About anything."

"Hugh." She wriggled, making him very inconveniently aroused.

"Felicia, be still, for just a moment. If you please."

"I cannot move my arms."

"I felt it necessary to take precautionary measures. At least until I can complete my grovel."

She snorted. "You consider this a grovel?"

"I have merely commenced! And I have very little groveling experience, I might add."

"That is patently obvious," she said, but this time her voice sounded more indulgent. "I will be happy to give you some pointers."

"So that I might use them in the future?"

"Precisely."

He pretended to groan, but in truth his heart soared. His wife intended to have a future with him, and if it meant he must endure her pinches, and grovel on a daily basis, he would do it. He would do anything to make her happy.

"I have a host of things I need to tell you," Hugh said. "First, and most importantly, I love you."

Her head snapped up, and she gazed into his eyes, as if trying to determine his sincerity.

"I love you," he repeated. "I have loved you for much longer than I even realized."

"Goodness, Hugh, you could have saved us both a great deal of agony if only you had been aware of your feelings sooner."

"Felicia, you must be the only female alive who receives a declaration of love and returns it with a scolding."

"I am certain it is one of the many things you adore, so I cannot apologize for it."

She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he kept his arms tight around her, to ensure she did not move away before he finished what he had to say.

"There are many things I adore about you," he said. "Shall I tell you of them?"

"Soon. But first I must apologize for not being the wife you wanted—"

He halted the rest of her words with a fervent kiss. "You are the wife I wanted. It merely took me too long to understand it."

"And you know I will always try to be the perfect mother for Lucinda."

He pressed his lips to hers once more.

"You already are the perfect mother. That is what I set out to find, the minute Lucinda was deposited into my care, only I was misled into thinking she needed something else. She needs you. She adores you." He chuckled. "In truth, she scolded me quite fiercely at having caused you to cry."

Felicia's face lit up with joy. "Did she?"

This time he did groan. "You two are going to continually conspire against me. I should cede control of my future to the both of you."

"You did that a long time ago," she said cheerfully.

"Indeed I did."

She tilted her head, and he could not resist the temptation to nibble on her exposed neck. Her shivers were a treasure, nearly distracting him from the rest of his apology to his beautiful wife.

"I worried you were a corruptible influence, for Lucinda, and most especially for me. Yet you are actually a comforting one."

"Who better to help you handle a headstrong daughter than a wife who has lived her entire life as a headstrong woman?"

"Precisely what I was planning to say next."

He nibbled upward, towards her ear.

"I have learned from you as well," she admitted. He glanced towards the bed, intent on occupying her for the next long while. "And not just there."

It was his turn to tilt his head inquisitively.

"I have learned that being a parent requires making those hard choices which a child cannot make for herself." She softened into his arms a little more. "It cannot be easy for you, though you make it appear that way sometimes. I fear I shall always make missteps."

"I shall too."

"I was too harsh with you earlier."

"You were not," Hugh said. "You made me see a lot of things differently. I might not have without your well-timed rebuke."

"No, if I had not—"

"Felicia, confound you. I cannot even apologize without you being entirely contrary!"