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She followed him along the hall until he paused outside Honora’s lavish suite. The door to the sitting room was ajar. Inside, they could see the silhouettes of a man and woman locked in an embrace.
“Soon,” the man said as his lips claimed the woman’s, “Falcon’s Lair and all its treasure will be ours.”
“Ours,” the woman echoed as she pulled him down to the bed.
With her hand to her mouth to stifle her outrage, Felicity turned away. And found herself once again alone.
“What is all the excitement, Bean?” Felicity looked up from her father’s journal. All morning she’d remained locked away in her room reading, until her eyes ached from the exertion. But she’d found nothing in her father’s notes that sounded even remotely like the medicine Dr. St. John had used.
She’d heard the servants bustling about and the furious commands from Maud Atherton to have Falcon’s Lair sparkling. But until now, when she’d set aside her reading, she hadn’t really paid any attention.
“Tonight’s the charity ball,” the little maid explained. “All the gentry will be here. Lady Honora has even invited friends from as far away as London.” Bean lowered her voice. “She’s in quite a snit, she is. Says if she finds so much as a smudge on the crystal, we’ll all pay tomorrow.”
Felicity felt her temper rising. “A charity ball, when her husband and father-in-law lie abed?”
“Lady Honora says life must go on, and she intends to put a brave face on her unhappiness.”
“A brave face.”
At Felicity’s outraged tone, Bean turned to look at her. “Do you think it is wrong of Lord and Lady Summerville and their daughter to betray old friendships by coming tonight?”
“Oh, no, Bean,” Felicity assured her. “In fact, I believe they may be the only true friends Lord Falcon and William have.” She felt a sudden sense of foreboding. “If anything should happen here, I want you to go to them. Do you understand?”
For long moments the girl stared at her. Then she meekly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She crossed the room and opened a wardrobe before laying out an assortment of undergarments.
“What are you doing, Bean?”
“Why, preparing for your toilette, ma’am.”
“I’ll not be attending Honora’s ball.”
“Oh, but you must, ma’am.”
“And why must I?”
“Because…” The little waif thought long and hard. “Because Lady Honora would take out her temper on all of us if you don’t.”
Felicity relented. The maid had just said the one thing that could change her mind. Felicity was far too tenderhearted. She simply couldn’t be the cause of someone else’s misery.
“I believe this is my dance, Miss Andrews.” Lord Summerville bowed grandly and swept Felicity into the maze of circling couples.
The women were a kaleidoscope of color in their elegant gowns and opulent jewels that caught and reflected the glow from hundreds of candles. A cloud of rich perfume seemed to envelop them.
The men were preening peacocks, bowing and strutting, hoping to attract the attention of their elegant hostess, who had, it seemed to Felicity, made a valiant effort to put aside her unhappiness.
Honora was, in fact, the life of the party; and though she danced with many men, she saved the most dances for Ian St. John. Felicity watched as they swayed to the music, their bodies touching, their faces bent in intimate conversation. They made no effort to hide their passion. Ian said something that amused Honora. She laughed, then looked up into his eyes and whispered to him. His arms tightened around her, and as he and Honora swept past Felicity, the sound of their laughter trailed behind.
Felicity was relieved when the dance ended. With a slight bow to Lord Summerville, she slipped past the crowds and opened the door to a brick-paved courtyard. She stepped into the cool shadows, closing the door behind her. After the raucous laughter and raised voices, the silence was a welcome relief.
She felt overwhelmed by so many emotions. Disgust at Honora and Ian, for they would sacrifice anyone to have what they wanted; fear of the coming confrontation, for she knew that she would fight them, to the death if necessary, to save Lord Falcon and his son; and exhaustion, because she stood alone against such evil.
But, she reminded herself, she wasn’t completely alone.
“Tired of dancing?”
At Gareth’s deep tone, she turned. As always, the heat surrounded him like a shimmering cloud.
“There is no one in there I care to dance with.”