THE BRIDE WORE BLUE Page 10

  He steadied her against him with an arm around her shoulder. Her softness and the light floral scent of her perfume reminded him he was with his precious Felicity. He had been so concerned for her sister he had quite forgotten how much he had to be thankful for. It was to me she turned in her time of need. He still could hardly believe she had sent for him, that she was comfortable enough with him to lay her head on his shoulder. She had allowed him to hold her hand. She had not bristled when he put his arm around her. And she had not even raised a brow when he had called her Felicity.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thomas counted himself fortunate the road from Bath was well traveled, broad, and relatively flat. It was not that bad a road to travel at night.

  When they reached Chippenham, he asked the coachman to stop.

  Felicity’s head shot up.

  He bent to her and spoke soothingly. “I’m just going to make inquiries at the inn.” Then he left the carriage.

  Face-to-face with the innkeeper, he gave the man a shilling. “Tell me, if you will, if a dark-complected man who speaks with a foreign accent has been here tonight in the company of a lovely young redheaded lady.”

  “I’m sure he ‘asn’t,” the ruddy-faced man replied, pocketing the coin.

  When he got back to the carriage, Thomas tried to reassure Felicity. “They haven’t stopped here. Though we’ll have to inquire at each inn along the way, I would be surprised if they stop before daylight. Then, they’ll likely be hungry and will stop for a respite. That’s when we’ll catch up with them.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” she said.

  He lifted her chin. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  Even in the dim carriage, he saw her shake her head. “I wish I had your confidence,” she said shakily.

  “I have a bit of an advantage over them. I will not stop until I find them. They will feel free to stop whenever they like.”

  “But surely Glee knows George and I would rent a hack if we had to in order to find her.”

  “Let’s hope she’s not thinking logically.”

  Felicity gave a bitter laugh. “No hoping is needed. The girl positively exasperates me. I keep wondering where I went wrong. Why can’t she be more like your sister?”

  “You forget Dianna is two years Miss Pembroke’s senior.”

  “Even when Miss Moreland was Glee’s age, I’m sure she would never have conducted herself as does my sister.”

  He spoke solemnly, almost as if he were thinking aloud. “I know how worried you must be. If it were Dianna . . .”

  “Dianna’s so fortunate to have you for a brother.”

  Was she referring to his so-called sacrifice to launch his sister? God’s eyes, he felt guilty. There had been no sacrifice whatsoever. A bonus to being able to spend time with his beloved Felicity was that Dianna’s acceptance into the gentry was assured. He only hoped she did not lose her heart to Felicity’s scoundrel brother.

  ‘Twas George who should have been going after his own sister, but George was likely at one of the gaming establishments he still frequented. “I’m sure Sedgewick is just as good a brother to you and Miss Pembroke.” He would never tell Felicity her brother was still gaming.

  “He is becoming much steadier,” she answered. “I suppose he’s maturing. Miss Moreland has been a welcome presence to our family. I had thought her a good influence on both Glee and George, but I see now Glee has a long way to go to become the lady your sister is.”

  He was overwhelmed. He truly did not care if the ton accepted him, but Dianna’s acceptance delighted him. “It is kind of you to say—and to feel—that. She is very dear to me.”

  Felicity stomped her slippered foot. “I wish George was half the brother you are.”

  “You’re overwrought, that’s all. You’re angry because he wasn’t home tonight and because you don’t have him to lean on. I assure you he would have acted with authority had he been apprised first of his sister’s actions.” He paused. “Though I’m happy he was from home. Had he been at Charles Street I wouldn’t have the pleasure of sitting here with you right now.”

  “How gallant you are. I’m sure you would much rather be home in your bed than on this country road on so cold a night.” Her voice raised in concern. “Why you don’t even have a coat! And you’re hardly dressed in traveling clothes. I fear I have greatly imposed on you.”

  He took her hand again. “It’s not an imposition, Felicity. It’s an honor. I’m flattered that you turned to me in a crisis. I only hope I merit your confidence.”

  Sweet heavens, but she needed to look inside Michael’s locket, lest Thomas Moreland make her completely forget him. Had she ever felt this light when Michael had held her hand? She had long been conscious of Mr. Moreland’s physical attributes. And sitting so close to him, smelling his sandalwood scent, feeling his large hand take possession of hers, rammed all his masculinity at her with the fury of a tidal wave.

  And now, his strength of character forced her to admire him as a demigod.

  All these thoughts had the effect of making her feel guilty that she could be thinking erotically about Mr. Moreland when her sister’s very future was at stake.

  “Would you not like to sleep now?” she asked him.

  “I’m used to grueling schedules.”

  Why couldn’t he be less a man? He was making it terribly difficult for her to remember Michael.

  They grudgingly continued to stop at every inn to make inquiries, cursing the time being lost. But it was imperative they prevent the dancing master from compromising Glee. Neither of them had to voice their fears for Glee. There was a peculiar bond between Felicity and Mr. Moreland, Felicity had to acknowledge. It was rooted far deeper than their shared love of Shakespeare.

  When he patted his shoulder for her to put down her head on it, she silently complied.

  The next morning when the coach slowed, Felicity raised her head. Dawn’s feeble light had squeezed into the carriage. She was surprised she had been able to sleep. If Glee’s disappearance wasn’t troubling enough, Mr. Moreland’s presence surely was. “Where are we?”

  “I’m not really sure of the village name,” Thomas answered. “But we’re forced to change horses. Will you be able to continue on without eating? I promise you a feast when we find Miss Pembroke.”

  “I couldn’t possibly stop to eat.”

  “I’ll go make inquiries while the coachman selects our mounts.”

  He returned a moment later with no news to report, and the carriage took off at a breakneck pace.

  Three hours passed before they came to another inn. His inquiries there netted him the information that a coach carrying a lady and a dark-complected man who spoke with a foreign accent had, indeed, stopped to change horses nearly an hour before.

  When he conveyed this to Felicity, she smiled so deeply, her dimples creased her face. “We’ve gained more than an hour on them!”

  “See,” he said, “it’s as I told you it would be. We’ll catch up with them as they stop to eat.”

  “Don’t talk about food. I’m ever so hungry.”

  “I thought you said you couldn‘t possibly eat,” he said playfully.

  She narrowed her eyes in mock irritation. “Would that you had a poorer memory, Mr. Moreland.” The trouble was, he did have a good memory. He had a good . . . everything. Drat! Michael must be looking down at her with displeasure.

  Three hours later they came to another posting inn. This time the coachman made inquiries in the stableyard.

  She and Thomas watched him out the window. They saw him smile and hurry toward the coach. Thomas leaped out and rushed to the man. “Are they here?” he asked hopefully.

  The coachman nodded.

  “How long ago did they arrive?” asked Felicity, who had scurried from the coach after Thomas. She trembled with dread.

  “Less than half an hour ago.”

  She and Thomas ran toward the inn.

  There, at a table in the private parlo
r, they saw them. Mr. Salvado, still wearing his greatcoat, had his back to the fire. A weary-looking Glee sat across from him.

  Thomas stormed to the table and grabbed Salvado by his coat, bringing him to his feet, each of them uttering oaths under their breath.

  Salvado’s brown eyes widened with fear. “But Miss Pembroke and I we share-a a deep-a love,” he protested as Thomas slung him into the nearest wall.

  “You know, don’t you, that Miss Pembroke’s family has lost everything. They have no more money.”

  The thin man’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard as he wiped away the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t-a care. I love Miss Pembroke.”

  Thomas’s big hands gripped the man’s shoulders as Thomas moved his face to within inches of the dancing master’s. “The girl you have abducted is not of the age of consent. She is barely more than a child. Do you know what the penalty is for kidnapping children?”

  Now the man swallowed even harder, prominently displaying his large Adam’s apple.

  Watching with trepidation, Felicity saw fear on the man’s face, but she felt no pity for him.

  “Get the hell out of here, Salvado,” Thomas growled. “If you value your life, you will never set foot in Bath again. Do you understand?”

  The dancing master opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He gave a frightened nod.

  When Thomas released him, Salvado ran from the room, not pausing even to look at Glee.

  Tears running down her pale cheeks, Glee gazed up at her sister.

  “I know you’re mad at me now,” Felicity began, “but one day you’ll realize that what Mr. Moreland and I have done today is for your benefit.”

  As the serving woman brought two plates of steaming food, Glee broke into sobs. Felicity gathered her sister into her arms. “I’m not mad,” Glee managed between sobs. “I’m so very glad you came.”

  Over the meal, which Thomas had instructed be increased, Glee explained. “As soon as I climbed from my window, I knew I had made a grave mistake; but by then Mr. Salvado had whisked me into the carriage, proclaiming his undying love. And I was too great a coward to tell him of my change of heart.”

  She took a bite of potatoes, and her crying stopped. “Though it wasn’t actually a change of heart. I don’t believe I ever truly loved him. I loved the idea of being a married lady and of having a man who loved me. Though I don’t believe now Mr. Salvado really loved me at all. I expect you were right, Mr. Moreland. He thought because my brother was a viscount my family was in possession of great wealth.”

  “Whether he loved you or not is irrelevant,” Felicity said with tenderness. “What matters is that you be allowed to mix in society until you find a fine man who will be happy to make you his wife. When you marry, you will do so in a church surrounded by your loved ones. And that’s why last night’s actions must never be revealed to anyone. If scandal were to attach to your name, all hopes for your future would be robbed.”

  Glee looked remorseful.

  It tore at Felicity’s heart to see her sister look so unkempt with curls matted to her head, her eyes red from crying, and her clothing a mass of wrinkles.

  Then it occurred to Felicity she must look equally as bad. And she wished ever so much to look good for Mr. Moreland.

  It was nearly midnight when Thomas’s coach pulled up at Felicity’s house on Charles Street. The door whipped open, and George darted out to greet them. When he saw Glee, he sighed deeply. He helped them from the carriage. Glee departed last. “You are to go straight to your room, young lady. I’ll be there presently to talk to you.”

  Glee scurried off.

  George turned to Thomas. “Words fail to express my profound thanks, Moreland.”

  Pride over her brother’s maturity filled Felicity’s heart.

  George turned to Felicity. “Who was the fellow?”

  “Her dancing master.”

  George started for the door. “I think I’m about to wring my little sister’s neck.”

  Thomas saw Felicity to the door. When she made eye contact with him, she raised her face to his for a kiss.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You have done me an immeasurable service,” she said softly, releasing her arms from around him and looking up into his weary face.

  His head bent to hers.

  Her breath short and ragged, she stood on her toes to receive another kiss.

  The hungry intensity of the kiss that followed nearly overpowered him. For her passion exceeded anything attributed to mere gratitude. Her arms linked behind the muscles of his back, and her lips parted intimately to receive his tongue.

  He drew her closer, crushing her into his chest as his arms came around her even more tightly. He only barely managed to terminate the kiss some time later but could not bring himself to release his cherished Felicity. He felt compelled to savor the soul-numbing pleasure of feeling her within his arms. Nothing had ever felt so good. This giving, breathing, caring Felicity—not the stiff woman in black—was the same woman he had fallen in love with six years ago. Thank God, she still resided beneath the black silk.

  That she had been as willing as he, sent his heart soaring. A woman did not kiss a man she hated as Felicity had just kissed him.

  God in heaven, he was the luckiest man in the world.

  He held her until his breath returned to normal, chiding himself for being the opportunist who would take advantage of Felicity’s gratitude. Some gentleman he had made.

  With great reluctance, he released her. “I beg your forgiveness,” he said, gazing into her misty blue eyes. Pray that she was not lamenting he was not her precious Captain Michael Harrison.

  She rigidly brought her arms to her sides, a dazed expression on her face.

  His gentle finger trailed along her smooth cheek, and he forced himself to speak of something besides the intimacy that had just occurred between them. “I hope your brother’s not too hard on Miss Pembroke,” he said.

  Felicity gave an exasperated shrug. “I fear we both may strangle her! Why in heaven’s name did she jeopardize her whole future over such a worthless man?”

  He shrugged.

  “It is to be hoped she finds a far more worthy man than one who has so little regard for her that he would steal her away to Gretna Green.”

  “Many girls of her age are just as foolish,” he defended.

  He backed away, then bowed. “I shall take my leave. You must be quite tired.”

  She held out her arm to stop him. “I cannot adequately tell you how grateful I am to you for all you have done.”

  “That you sought me in your time of stress is more payment than ever I could hope for.” He inclined his head, then left.

  * * *

  As soon as he was gone, she moved toward the street. She had forgotten to ask that he tell no one of Glee’s transgression. Then Felicity came to a halt, realizing there was no need. Thomas Moreland needed no such warning. He was as true a gentleman as she had ever known.

  She entered the house and mounted the narrow stairway, oddly puzzled that her thoughts were on the enigmatic Mr. Moreland rather than the wayward Glee. Felicity was shocked over her own wanton behavior with Thomas Moreland. He had certainly not forced his kiss on her. She had risen hungrily to meet his lips!

  She had never thought to ever kiss another man. Perhaps she had been too long without affection. The kind of affection a woman shared with a man she cared about, a man to whom she would pledge her life.

  Her thoughts engaged on Mr. Moreland, Felicity walked past Glee’s closed chamber door. From within, she heard George’s raised voice and continued to her own chamber, pleased that George was finally taking his role as head of their household.

  Still wearing the gown she had worn the night of Glee’s flight, she finally took it off, donned a warm night shift and climbed beneath the covers of her bed, her muddled thoughts on the peculiar intimacy that had occurred between Mr. Moreland and herself moments before. Tho
ugh she should be ashamed of her actions, quite oddly she was not. She had actually reveled in Mr. Moreland’s warmth. It had been far too long since she had known love.

  Not that Thomas Moreland loved her, of course. But since the day he had first come here, she had sensed that he found her ... desirable. The thought brought a smile to her lips. A smile she was utterly ashamed of.

  The memories of Michael and the love they shared had sustained her for the past four years. And now, she thought bitterly, she could not even remember the sound of his voice. Until Thomas Moreland, she had forgotten what if felt like to desire a man so keenly she ached to be held in his arms.

  Perhaps she had been wrong to act as if she were still Michael’s wife. He is dead. Time had lessened her grief and vanquished his memory more with each passing day.

  Everyone who loved her told her she was too young to throw herself into a Portuguese grave. Even Michael, sensing his early demise, had urged her not to mourn him. He had known how badly she wanted children and told her to marry again. “I can’t bear to think of you growing old without children,” he had told her.

  Had they all been right? Should she put her mourning behind her? Oh, Michael, if only you could tell me what to do.

  With such thoughts, she drifted off into a deep sleep.

  When she awoke to a sunny morning, her first thoughts were of Thomas Moreland. She had a strong desire to see how Thomas would react if she were to wear color. Had he not expressed his wish to see her in blue? Her thoughts flitted to her meager premourning wardrobe. She did possess a blue wool. . .

  Good Lord! Was this track of thought a sign from Michael? Was he urging her to live again?

  She went to her linen press and flung open the door. At the far end she found the pale blue wool and removed it from the peg. She would wear it.

  Then she wept for the demise of Michael’s memory.

  * * *

  As if two days had not elapsed since the night Mr. Moreland had asked Felicity to take the morning water at the Pump Room, he showed up the following morning.