Page 13 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #1)

Chapter Thirteen

HYDE PARK, APRIL 8, 1817

W ith the observation of Easter the Sunday previous, London came alive at last as spring reached her pinnacle. Nowhere was this more evident than in Hyde Park, where Felicity took in everything around her with quiet appreciation. The grasses were as green as ever, the trees had new growth in vibrant hues, and flowers peeked out of carefully manicured garden beds.

Felicity, along with the Colonel and Daphne, were attending part in a picnic arranged by the Normans. Mr. Norman seemed disposed to like Edward—Felicity had tried but failed to think of him as Halstead since their conversation in his study. Miss Norman had befriended Daphne. The outing suited everyone involved, including Mr. and Miss Montague, who were once again chatting amiably with Daphne.

“I have always liked the park away from Rotten Row,” Mrs. Norman said, sipping delicately at her tea. Felicity sat on one side of the lady, Mr. Norman on the other, and Edward beside that gentleman. “There is so much more to this place than the crowds all vying to be seen in their slow promenade.”

“Such as the ducks,” Edward said, gesturing to the water glimmering before them.

The group looked over. The Serpentine boasted its usual swans, geese, and ducks, but if one knew where to look they would find nesting spots tucked here and there in the park.

Felicity shaded her eyes to better look across the pond where a few couples rowed about in small boats, rented out on fine days, her eyes seeing more than was before her. “My father brought me here years ago, to hunt for nests. We never disturbed them, of course, but it was always great fun to poke about in the weeds to find them.”

Mr. Norman chuckled before making his own observation. “In a few more weeks, the water will be full of goslings, signets, and ducklings. All of them driving their parents to distraction.” He nudged Edward with his elbow. “You are getting a fine taste of that yourself, Halstead. Guardianship of a young lady is no small thing.”

Felicity adjusted the corner of the blanket nearest her, somehow resisting the desire to watch Edward respond to that particular comment. Instead she glanced toward the other picnic blanket, a few yards away, where the younger people were enjoying their tea and sandwiches. Daphne’s laughter sounded sweetly from where she sat between Miss Norman and Miss Montague, prompting a smile from her aunt.

“I am fortunate that I am not alone in the work of caring for a young lady,” Edward said, tempting Felicity to turn her attention back to their conversation. “Lord Blackstone advised me to think of ladies as I would think of geese.”

“Oh, that man.” Mrs. Norman sounded more amused than annoyed. “Every time my husband comes home from the club, it seems he has another wild tale to tell. What do you think of Lord Blackstone, Miss Price?”

Felicity looked up, meeting the woman’s curious gaze with raised eyebrows. As she was more chaperone than guest, she had not expected to be brought into the conversation properly. She had whiled away the first quarter hour of the picnic reading a book which now lay open beside her on the blanket—yet Mrs. Norman had invited her to contribute several times already. The other woman was closer to forty than Felicity was, with just the barest of lines showing around her eyes and a cheery disposition that made her think the woman a pleasant person.

“I am afraid I have not heard much about him,” Felicity admitted. “I know only that he founded and patronizes the club where Colonel Halstead is a member.” She glanced at Edward to find him watching her, his eyes bright with amusement.

He inclined his head. “I suppose I have not spoken of him often—he is a rather peculiar man, to say the least.”

Mr. Norman leaned back on his hands, an easy smile on his face. “Peculiar is a mild word for it. Have you made peace with his eccentricities yet, Colonel, or has Lord Blackstone’s fondness for taxidermy made you regret joining our unusual club?”

Edward’s low chuckle made something inside Felicity squirm, though certainly not unpleasantly. She tried to direct her attention away again, to the more youthful members of the party, when he spoke.

“The giraffe in the billiard room was quite a surprise.”

A laugh escaped her as she turned toward him. “A giraffe? Colonel, that cannot be true.” She looked at Mr. Norman, expecting him to deny such a thing. She had seen a live giraffe once, at the Tower Menagerie. The creature had stood marvelously high, the entire of one being found in a billiard room?—

“Well. Not an entire giraffe,” Mr. Norman said with a broad grin. “Just the neck up.”

Felicity started to shake her head, unable to help looking at Edward with wide eyes. “I should very much like to know why a man would look at a giraffe and decide its final resting place ought to be inside a gentleman’s club, billiard room or otherwise.”

The corners of Edward’s mouth twitched upward. “Perhaps I will have the pleasure of introducing you to Lord Blackstone soon. I have heard rumor of his hosting a gathering at his home for club members and their families.” He sat up, leaning slightly in her direction as though to impart a secret. “You ought to know, Miss Price, that Lord Blackstone claims all his specimens died of natural causes.”

Mr. Norman chuckled. “A most convenient truth, if I have ever heard one.”

Edward laughed again. “Who do you think provides him with all these creatures, offering such reassurances to him?” He shook his head. “I cannot fault him for wishing to believe such things. He seems a good man in every respect.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Norman moved closer to his wife, stealing a biscuit from her plate while she playfully swatted at his hand. “He is a good sort, from all I know of him—and particular about the men who join his club.”

“A thing for which I am thankful,” Edward said, his tone still bright. “Acquaintance with you and your family has provided Daphne with a good friend in your daughter.”

A breeze came through at that moment, pushing the blanket up in such a way as to nearly unsettle a dish of berries. Edward moved quickly, saving the dish and moving to sit on that side of the blanket to keep it down.

“Heavens.” Mrs. Norman adjusted her bonnet. “I do hope the wind will not become disruptive. I am so enjoying the afternoon out of doors.”

“A stray breeze, I am certain,” her husband said genially.

Edward looked up at Felicity, sitting much closer to her now. His smile returned, warm as the sunshine.

She liked him like this. At ease. Cheerful. Among friends.

He looked down at her book, its pages rustling, and put his hand upon it to pin them in place. “You will have lost your place, Miss Price.”

She looked down, realizing her hand was mere inches from his where it rested on the blanket—and bare, she had not yet put her gloves on again after eating. She drew back, tucking her hand in her lap, but not before her pulse skipped traitorously.

“It—it is of no consequence,” she said, somewhat belatedly.

His gaze found hers, his eyebrows raised. When he spoke, his voice was lower, meant for her ears alone. “Are you feeling unwell again? Your cold has not returned?”

“No, not at all. I am quite well, Colonel.” Felicity forced a smile. How had she sounded unwell when she spoke? Had he sensed the hesitation in her words?

“Good.” He smiled at her, then plucked a clover from beside the blanket. He placed it in the book, closed it, and handed it to her. “Perhaps you ought to rest more, Miss Price. To ensure you remain in good health.”

She accepted the book, putting it in her lap, not caring he had marked the wrong page. “I believe you mistake me for someone who listens to such advice, sir, when that is quite impossible. There is a young lady to manage, you see.”

A soft laugh escaped him in a breath of air, the twinkle in his eyes returning. His lips parted as though he had more to say, but another voice spoke before Edward could.

“What book is it that you are reading, my dear?” Mrs. Norman asked, and Felicity nearly started in her surprise. For a moment, she quite forgot that they were not alone.

She hastily handed the book to the other woman, her tongue struggling to catch up with her actions. “The third Waverley novel, by Scott. The Antiquary. I admit, each book has fascinated me, but have only just acquired this one.”

Mrs. Norman met Felicity’s eyes as she accepted the book, and Felicity read clearly the other woman’s curiosity. It had nothing to do with the novel, and everything to do with what she had observed between Felicity and Edward. Or thought she had observed.

Felicity relaxed her shoulders, carefully softening her expression. “Do you enjoy reading, Mrs. Norman?”

After a quick glance at Edward, who remained seated next to Felicity, the woman nodded. “I do—and I have read this one. Though all the dramatics surrounding the romances agitated me at times. The ladies never seemed to have happy endings.”

“I am not one to let my thoughts linger on romance,” Felicity said, keeping her gaze level with Mrs. Norman. “I consider myself quite on the shelf, and all my energies are taken up with Daphne. When my niece weds a good man, I will consider my work complete and pack myself off to some seaside village and count myself happy indeed.”

The conversation was less about books and reading than it was about Mrs. Norman’s curiosity. Her frequent glances at Edward told Felicity the woman was curious, perhaps even concerned that Miss Daphne Price’s spinster aunt had found herself the recipient of unwanted advances.

Edward had closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and seemed completely lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the ladies. Mr. Norman had covered his face with his hat.

Mrs. Norman handed Felicity’s book to her. “Your niece is lucky she has you to look after her. I am certain her guardian does well enough, but there is nothing a young lady needs so much as the guidance of an older, wiser woman in her life.”

Accepting the book, Felicity held it to her chest again. “I agree. Thank you.”

“You ought to come to my home with Daphne for tea,” the woman added, her voice lower and a smile on her lips. “I would enjoy a conversation with you, I think. We could discuss Scott and the perils of readying girls for womanhood.”

Felicity relaxed. This was no warning of gossip, but an offer of friendship. It had been a long time since she had received enough notice from anyone to think such a thing possible. “I would like that.”

A sudden movement at the other group brought Felicity’s attention there as Mr. Montague leapt to his feet with the energy of a young, enthusiastic man.

“Ladies, it seems a crime to sit when we might be walking along the Serpentine.” With Mr. Montague’s declaration, he held his hands out; one to his sister to help her up, the other to Daphne, who immediately looked toward Felicity and Edward.

Her eyes were wide, hopeful, but her words were somewhat hesitant when she spoke. “Oh, Colonel, might I please?—”

“No,” Edward said, eyes still closed.

The single word cut through the warmth of the afternoon. Daphne’s expression turned immediately contrite, and she lowered her gaze to the blanket.

Felicity gave Edward a sharp look, full of disapproval, but he had barely cracked an eye open to look in Daphne’s direction.

Still, it appeared her silent censure was nonetheless felt. Edward sighed. “Not without a proper escort. You cannot wander about without protection, Daphne.”

Despite what sounded like little more than a practical note, a heaviness remained on the gathering. Felicity felt it keenly as the young ladies exchanged glances, and Mr. Montague stared evenly at Edward.

The young man, no more than twenty years old, smiled and offered a small bow to Edward. “Colonel, I should hope my sister and I, along with Miss Norman, are considered adequate company. While I am not so equipped as a soldier to protect Miss Daphne, I think myself equal to the task of looking after her long enough to enjoy an afternoon’s stroll in the environs near the picnic.”

It was quite a diplomatic speech, but Daphne’s crestfallen expression spoke well enough of what she and Felicity already knew. Colonel Halstead had no intention of letting Daphne out of his sight or hearing. The other young people had already grown more reserved, and even Mr. Norman and Mrs. Norman exchanged a glance.

This was what Edward did not understand. And unless she could explain it to him?—

“Unfortunately, Mr. Montague,” the Colonel began stiffly.

Felicity put her teacup on its saucer with a clatter. “Oh, a walk does sound lovely. Daphne, darling, do not forget your parasol. Where is mine? I should like to feed my crusts to the swans.” She stood and fluttered about. “Here is your parasol, I have mine. Would you like me to feed your crusts to the waterfowl, Mrs. Norman?”

The married woman chuckled and held her plate out to Felicity. “Indeed. I will stay put, I think.”

Edward rose to his feet. “Miss Price?—”

She cut him a sharp glance and smiled brightly. “You needn’t trouble yourself, Colonel.”

He narrowed his eyes, glanced at the young people, and nodded. “Of course. I will come with you. Daphne, enjoy your walk.”

Felicity watched her niece’s eyes brighten as she finally took Mr. Montague’s offered hand to come to her feet, parasol clutched in her other gloved hand. The young people started forward, their steps light, and laughter floating back on the breeze.

Holding the crusts in one ungloved hand, Felicity propped her parasol on her shoulder as though it were a rifle and marched directly to the water. Edward fell into step beside her.

“That was hardly necessary,” he muttered, keeping up with her quite easily given his much longer stride.

“On the contrary, it was entirely necessary.” Felicity forced a wide smile onto her face as she caught Daphne peering back at them. “We cannot deny Daphne every bit of independence, nor can we allow her friends to think you a tyrant.”

He grumbled, “I do not care what they think?—”

“You need to, Edward,” she said quietly. “Would you rather be the villain who ruins an afternoon for a young lady, or the gracious guardian who trusts her friends?”

He shook his head. “We have discussed this numerous times, Felicity. I have made my opinion quite clear?—”

“And they are within your sight, Edward.” She nodded to the little group. “And I sincerely doubt there are any secretive plans being discussed between three young ladies and a young man, who is brother to one of them. See, he escorts Miss Norman, as is right since she is the hostess. The other two ladies walk behind him. There is nothing amiss there. They are also in full view of Mr. and Mrs. Norman, a respected couple of your acquaintance. What is there to fear?”

Edward stared at the young people, sighed, then held his hand out to Felicity. She blinked at it. He hadn’t taken the time to put his gloves on, either, it seemed.

“May I have a crust of bread?” he asked, tone gruff.

“Oh. Of course.” She dropped it into his palm as they reached the edge of the Serpentine, her fingertips brushing his warm skin.

“Thank you.” He began breaking it into smaller pieces, tossing it outward to the water where the birds floating on its surface rushed to claim the scraps. Felicity did the same. His frown remained.

With a sigh, Felicity turned her attention to a mallard brave enough to waddle up to her and quack, asking for a crumb. She tossed him a piece. “Have you ever seen a man frown so crossly on such a fine day?” she asked the duck.

“I have reason enough for it,” the Colonel muttered.

Felicity, hands empty of bread, closed her parasol before she shook it at him. “Colonel Halstead, if you refuse to enjoy the afternoon all because Daphne wished to take a walk with her friends, I may very well put you up for court martial. It ought to be a crime, as Mr. Montague said, not to enjoy such a fine spring day as this.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression solemn. “Are you threatening me with your parasol, Captain Price?”

She looked at the instrument, then back up at him resolutely. “Yes,” she said, quite aware of the foolishness of such a thing. “I shall run you through with it if you do not start enjoying the day, immediately.”

He stepped closer, so the tip of her parasol pressed against his chest, right above his heart. “A sad fate for a man who survived the war with the French. Yet if you think it necessary, I submit myself to this most dishonorable death.”

Felicity gasped, then nearly choked. The man had teased her! In the next moment, a grin broke free on his handsome face, with a low chuckle that turned into a soft laugh, a most entrancing sound that pulled an answering smile onto her face.

Laughter bubbled up with her, too. “You are terrible, sir,” she said at last, shaking her head.

Edward tapped the parasol still pressed against his chest. “Truce, Miss Price?”

“Truce,” she agreed, dropping the parasol to her side. “I did not know you could be ridiculous.”

“Really?” He tilted his head to the side. “I am convinced you must often think me so.” He held out his arm, glancing toward Daphne’s group of friends. “Come. You have had your way, and Daphne has enjoyed her independence. But I should like to walk in that direction, in case she has need of me. Of us.”

Us. At the sound of that word from his lips, that comfortable warmth wrapped itself around her heart again. She took his arm as he smiled, and Felicity realized the sight of his smile stirred an odd, hopeful feeling in her chest. Her cheeks warmed, and she swiftly turned to watch a swan glide across the water.

Something rather strange, and certainly quite dangerous, was unfolding in her heart. She needed to put a stop to it—for Daphne’s sake, if not for her own. She had resigned herself to spinsterhood, accepted it long before she had met the Colonel. Once Daphne’s future was secure, there would be nothing left for Felicity except a quiet set of rented rooms near the seaside, and the occasional Christmas visits to her niece and, hopefully, her children. That was her future.

The warmth faded into cold certainty.

Colonel Halstead was a necessary ally until then, and nothing else. He could be nothing else.