Page 21 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

F or two days, Felicity could not stop thinking about Edward’s dilemma. It had settled in the back of her mind, lingering like an out of tune chord, its tension humming beneath everything she did.

She had not spoken to Edward much since their conversation in the study. Not because she did not wish to, but because every time she looked at him, she saw the weight on his shoulders, the quiet way he carried his burden, quite literally soldiering on. He was still thinking it all through.

And he had kissed her. That, too, she could not forget.

Which was precisely why she had invited Mrs. Norman and Miss Norman for tea today—to distract herself, if nothing else.

The parlor was bright with afternoon light, the fire warming the chill which still determinedly clung to early spring. The tea service was laid out neatly and Daphne sat beside her, in high spirits, telling Miss Norman some amusing story about the ball two nights prior.

Mrs. Norman, however, was watching Felicity. The older woman had always been perceptive, and today was no exception, waiting to speak her mind until the young ladies crossed the room to sit at a table to play draughts while they continued to chatter about upcoming invitations.

“You seem troubled, Miss Price,” Mrs. Norman said smoothly, lifting her teacup.

Felicity offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Oh, not at all.”

Mrs. Norman hummed in a way that suggested she did not believe her in the slightest. “You know, your niece is very important to my daughter. Their friendship has been quickly made, but it seems to be of a steady nature. I consider Daphne a dear girl, and I am most grateful you have allowed the acquaintance.”

“Oh, Mrs. Norman, of course. Miss Norman is exactly the sort of friend Daphne needs at present, and I hope they are friends for many years beyond it. I give myself leave to hope that their daughters may in turn find some friendship together.”

“As do I.” Mrs. Norman put her cup down. She folded her hands in her lap. “As I hope that you will be my friend for many years to come, Miss Price. You are an intelligent woman, and I have the greatest pleasure in your company.”

Feeling her cheeks warm, Felicity looked at the other woman with open surprise which she could not help but voice. “Truly? You think of me as a friend? I am only Daphne’s aunt.”

“No, my dear. You are a kindhearted woman with a most excellent taste in parasols.” She smiled with good humor. “And, indeed, I hope you count me your friend.”

“I certainly have wished to,” Felicity admitted, a hand touching her heart. “Thank you. I have enjoyed your company, too. All of our conversations have lifted me, giving me comfort and guidance. Please, call me Felicity from now on.”

“Then you must call me Rose. Now, Felicity, you are officially my friend. Tell me, please—what troubles you?”

Her shoulders fell. “It…it is not my burden to share, I am afraid. But that you noticed and wished to help, that eases my mind greatly.”

Rose nodded slowly, her expression still kind. “I understand. You will tell me if I can help you, will you not?”

“Of course. For now, I am best helped with distraction. We must find something pleasant, some exciting topic to—” Before Felicity could attempt to redirect the conversation, a light knock sounded at the door and a footman stepped inside, holding a carefully wrapped parcel.

“A delivery has arrived, Miss Price.”

Felicity frowned slightly. “Oh?”

The footman nodded. “From Madame Bisset’s dress shop.”

That was peculiar. She had not ordered Daphne anything recently. Setting down her teacup, she took the parcel from the footman, untying the string and unfolding the brown paper wrapping.

A gown was nestled inside. A stunning one.

The fabric was soft beneath her fingertips, finer than anything she had commissioned before. The color—a rich, deep green—was striking, the embroidery at the hems delicate and elegant. It was surely not Daphne’s. The colors were too bold for a young woman in her first Season.

“My, but that is exquisite,” Rose said, peering into the box beside her. “And how lovely. I cannot think I have seen many in this color yet this Season. You’ll be setting a trend.”

“I think there must be a mistake,” she said, her traitorous fingers running along the neckline. “We did not order such a thing for Daphne, though I did admire the cloth when we were in the shop.” Like a prickle up her spine, a slow dawning realization settled over her. She turned to Daphne, who was grinning in a way which immediately set her on edge. “You did not order this for yourself, did you?” Felicity asked, holding up the sleeve of the gown.

Daphne laughed, shaking her head. “No. The Colonel and I placed the order…but we did it for you .”

Felicity froze. Edward had done this? For her? She tried to find the words, but her friend spoke first, amusement in her voice.

“Well, well.”

Felicity turned her head sharply, half expecting censure. Instead, she found her new friend Rose looking at her with something close to approbation.

Felicity, startled, could not stop herself from asking, “You—you approve?”

Rose sipped her tea, the very picture of serene amusement. “My dear,” she said, setting down her cup with a delicate clink, “we cannot control when the right person comes into our life—or how. But we should certainly seize the chance for happiness when they do.” She reached out to take Felicity’s hand where it rested on the soft fabric of the beautiful gown. “If this is what you fretted over, you ought not. I think he is a fine gentleman, and you will look stunning in green. This may be your moment, Felicity. Seize it.”

Felicity’s breath caught. Seize the chance for happiness . She looked down at the gown, running her fingers along the buttons in the back, heart pounding.

* * *

Edward had never considered himself a man prone to romantic notions. He had spent most of his life focused on duty, first to his family, then to Pamela, then to his regiment, then to his household, and now to Daphne. Duty was what defined him. He had told himself, in the quieter moments, that he was content with that; that whatever other men sought in marriage, in love, in companionship, was not something meant for him. Especially not since his spectacularly terrible youthful mistake.

And then had come Felicity Price.

She had upended his life in every way imaginable: challenged him, infuriated him, and somehow, without his consent, had become a fixture of his world. And now, standing at the foot of the staircase, waiting to escort the ladies to the theater, Edward was utterly undone. He knew it. He knew himself a hopeless cause. Word had come through the servants that the gown from the modiste had arrived earlier that afternoon, but neither Daphne nor Felicity had said a word about it at dinner.

Both of them had been rather quiet, actually. Preoccupied by their thoughts, which had left Edward somewhat nervous. Had she not liked the gift? He had nearly asked, but decided it best to let her broach the subject. What if she had found it too personal? Daphne had reassured him that since it was from both of them, there was nothing inappropriate about it, and the idea of Felicity in a beautiful gown had appealed to him.

But if it had been a mistake, he would certainly apologize and?—

“Oh, Edward. There you are.” Felicity’s voice came from above, and he glanced up the stairs with a half-formed apology ready on his lips.

There it stayed until he swallowed down his fear. Unexpected wonder filled him in its stead as Felicity descended the stairs at an unhurried pace, her gloved hand resting lightly along the banister.

She had donned the deep green gown, and she looked so enchanting, so lovely in that color that he stood absolutely stunned before her.

The dress was a shade so rich and striking that it should have been entirely too bold, yet on her it was perfection, making her brown eyes stand out and sparkle in a way that would surely turn heads. The gown fit her like a dream, the neckline modest yet devastating, the embroidery fine and elegant. She did not merely wear the gown. She sparkled in the entire room.

Felicity was incredible.

“Captain,” he breathed.

Edward had always thought her handsome, in the way one admired a woman with striking intelligence and strong opinions. But this—this was something else entirely. This was the moment he knew, irrevocably, that his heart was hers.

That it had been for some time. And that it always would be.

Felicity stepped onto the second-to-last stair and looked at him, her dark eyes warm and a small, knowing smile on her lips. Before he could find his voice, she spoke. “Daphne has just informed me she has a headache,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him.

Daphne. His ward. Her niece. Yes, she was supposed to come downstairs, too.

Edward looked to the top of the stairs, his mind still catching up with her words, then back at the vision before him as he frowned. “She seemed well earlier.”

“She did,” Felicity agreed, seemingly not at all concerned. “But she has since retired to bed.” She took another step down, closer to him, and Edward’s breath shallowed. “I was coming to ask if you would rather stay home as well.”

Edward did not answer immediately. Instead, he reached for her, drawing her close in a way that left no space between them. Felicity let out the softest of breaths, her hands resting lightly against his chest. Not to resist him, but to keep her balance.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet but full of more certainty than it had ever held before. “I love you.”

Felicity stilled. He felt her inhale sharply, felt the way her fingers curled slightly against his coat. But she did not pull away.

“In the weeks and months I have known you,” Edward continued, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart, “I have fallen in love with you—and no matter what comes next, I want you beside me. Always. As my dearest friend, my ally. My captain. As my wife.”

Felicity’s breath shook as she exhaled. For a moment, she said nothing. Then with all the certainty in the world, she made him the happiest man alive. “Yes.”

Edward closed his eyes briefly, pressing his forehead to hers. She had chosen him. For the first time in his entire life, he felt true peace.

His future wife’s fingers brushed lightly over the front of his coat. “I love you, too,” she admitted.

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to look down at her. “A very good thing. I would feel quite let down otherwise. Oh, Felicity.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.” First one cheek, then the other, as her breathing hitched. “I will spend the whole of my life loving you, and I will care for you as you have taken care of everyone else.” He pressed his lips to hers, and she eagerly returned his kiss. “I will always be thankful you chose me.”

She shook her head, the smile returned to her lips. “How could I not? You are wonderful. A man of honor, integrity, you care so deeply about the people for whom you are responsible. You are the best of men, Edward.”

“I have made so many mistakes,” he reminded her, a note of caution in his voice. Best she not gain the habit of thinking him perfect.

Felicity cupped his cheek in her hand. “Everyone makes mistakes. It is how we right our wrongs, how we heal the hurts we cause, that matters. You are a good man, and I—I love you with my whole being.”

That deserved another kiss, and his silent vow to never stop bettering himself. Felicity deserved the best him that he could give her.

When their lips parted, but their foreheads remained touching, Felicity asked softly, “What now?”

Edward exhaled a quiet laugh, stepping back enough to look at her properly. “You have seen to Daphne?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you have a great desire to go to the theater tonight?”

His beloved smiled. “Not precisely. And we cannot really go alone, the two of us. People would talk.”

“They are going to anyway when we announce our marriage.”

“Do you mean when we announce our engagement?” Felicity teased.

“I am getting a common license first thing in the morning. I will wed you this very Sunday—if you are not averse to it?”

She laughed softly, and did not censure his eagerness. “I am not. Though people certainly will talk. You still lack patience, Colonel Halstead.”

“I will learn it for you. After we have wed. I promise.”

The joy in her eyes erased any concern he felt over rushing the whole thing. They had lived together for nearly two months, butting heads almost daily about Daphne’s freedoms, agreeing and disagreeing on thousands of things, and he did not want to spend many more days unable to kiss her after a disagreement, afternoons without her seated by him at these infernal visits, evenings without her by his side at balls, nights without her curled up beside him. Not when they were both so in love. Not when they could easily remove the barriers to such intimacies through a single act.

“We cannot go to the theater,” Felicity said quietly, bringing him out of his excitable thoughts. “So if you are not averse to it, I would like to sit with you in the library.”

He arched a brow. “The library? You seemed little impressed with it when I showed it to you last.”

“There is a new settee,” she said, lips curving slightly. “I ordered it directly after you showed me the room—on your account, I’m afraid.”

Edward couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Of course you did. Daphne helped me order shelves and shelves’ worth of books.”

“She does enjoy reading.” Felicity smiled, looping her arm through his. “Will you lead the way, Colonel?”

“I will, Captain,” he teased, the title he had suggested giving her from the early days of their acquaintance making them both grin like young fools.

In short order he had the library warm with lamplight, the fire burning low in the hearth. As she had said, a new settee had been placed near the bookshelves, its fabric a rich navy, its cushions plush and inviting. Not masculine as his study was, not feminine like the fripperies of a teahouse. Something their own.

Edward grinned as he took it in. “You intend to fill my cold, empty home the way you filled my cold and empty heart?”

“Indeed. I do.” Without hesitation Felicity sat, curling her legs up beside her, settling comfortably as if this were already her home.

And really, it was.

Edward watched her, something deep and profound settling in his chest. She was his home, now; she was already an essential part of his life. She had been since the moment she walked into it.

Felicity suddenly laughed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

He arched a brow, amused. “What is so funny?”

She looked up at him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Mrs. Norman,” she revealed, grinning. “Rose, she has given me leave to call her.”

Edward came closer to the settee. “What about her?”

“She suspected something between us, ever since the picnic in Hyde Park,” Felicity admitted, leaning back against the cushions. “And I very much hope she will come to the wedding.” She held her hand out to him and he took it. Their hands, intertwined; as their lives had been, and now always would remain.

Edward’s chest warmed. “So do I,” he murmured, settling beside her.

And as the fire crackled, as Felicity leaned against him, he knew: this was where she belonged. With him. Now.

Always.