Page 22 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

F elicity had never been nervous about many things in her life. She had stood firm against Society’s judgments, helped her brother raise Daphne with unyielding devotion, riled against her own brother’s will when it came to her niece’s choice of guardian, and challenged Edward Halstead at every turn without a second thought.

And yet, this morning, she was nervous.

She sat at the breakfast table, hands clasped in her lap, willing herself to feel at ease. She was engaged. Engaged. Engaged to be married.

It should not feel so strange to say it, to think it, but it was. Even as happiness bubbled up inside of her, it was all so new.

Edward was sitting at the head of the table, immediately to her left, spreading butter onto his toast with his usual military efficiency, as if nothing monumental had happened between them the night before. But something had…and now they had to tell Daphne.

Felicity inhaled slowly, reaching for her teacup. “Do you think she will be happy for me? For us?”

Edward glanced up at her, brow slightly furrowed, as if confused by the question.

She tapped a finger against her saucer. “It could upset her, you know. She has always expected me to be there for her, I always told her I would. What if she feels I am abandoning her? Or that I care for you more than I do her? Or?—”

Edward set his toast down deliberately. “Felicity.”

She glanced at him, fear evidently written all across her expression, for her future husband leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

“Daphne is not going to be upset. My darling, Daphne is not going to be surprised. She has spent the last several weeks attempting to play matchmaker.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open. “She has not .”

The man’s lips twitched. “She has. With all the subtlety of a cavalry charge.”

Her mouth immediately fell open to argue, but she stopped. She would have noticed such a thing, surely. No one knew Daphne as she did. If the young woman had attempted such manipulation, it would have been obvious. Except… Except looking back, she recalled a few oddly pointed comments, the knowing glances, the way Daphne had encouraged the two of them to spend time together.

Her face grew warm.

Edward, observing her closely, smirked. “Ah. There it is. The blush I love so well.”

Felicity gave him a look of reproof, but before she could respond, Daphne entered the breakfast room. She was bright-eyed, perfectly composed, and looking not at all like a young woman recovering from an evening of a discomforting headache.

She settled in her chair. “Good morning, Colonel. Aunt Felicity.”

Folding his arms, Edward leaned back in his seat. “Daphne. How is your headache?”

Daphne, already reaching for the teapot, paused. For a moment, she looked genuinely confused—then her eyes lit with understanding. She set the teapot down, lifting her chin in almost a perfect replica of her aunt. “I am fine. Of course,” she said simply.

Felicity nearly choked on her tea.

Edward let out a low, amused exhale, shaking his head slightly.

Daphne, utterly unaffected by the scrutiny, reached for a slice of toast. “Did you finally propose matrimony to my aunt?” she asked blithely, as though inquiring about the weather.

Felicity stared at her. What the?—

“I did.” Edward—drat the man—bit into his toast, entirely unbothered.

Daphne nodded approvingly. “Good. Of course, you said yes, Aunt Felicity. You are far too clever to turn the Colonel down, especially given how much he adores you. I am glad.” She grinned boldly at her aunt. “You know, I was hoping for this almost from the beginning.”

Setting down her teacup with a bit more force than necessary, Felicity narrowed her eyes at her niece. “Daphne Price—almost from the beginning?”

Smiling serenely, Daphne shrugged. “Well, I needed to be sure he wasn’t a scoundrel.”

The Colonel released a quiet laugh. “And once you determined I was not?”

Unrushed and utterly composed, Daphne buttered her toast. “Then I knew it would only be a matter of time before you both stopped being so stubborn.”

After spending the last several hours wondering how to tell Daphne, it was rather a shock. “Well. I never.”

Edward, horribly smug, reached for the teapot. “More tea, my dear betrothed?”

She glared at him, but she was smiling despite herself.

The young lady, chewing her toast, sighed dramatically. “I do hope marriage makes you both more sensible.”

Edward’s hearty laugh filled the breakfast room, but Felicity was still staring at her niece, trying to understand how everything had turned upside down so quickly.

An unrepentant grin on her face, Daphne said, “I take it by your expression that you were worried about telling me.”

For goodness sake! Felicity threw both hands in the air, a gesture of surrender at last. “Yes, well! Clearly, I need not have been.”

Her niece had the good manners to look a little chagrined as he passed her aunt the tray of tarts. “No, you need not have been. Have one of these, Aunt Felicity. They are your favorite. Do you think Cook knows how to make a wedding cake? Will they have time to learn by the weekend?”

Felicity covered her face with her hands, laughing despite herself, as her future husband leaned back in his chair, entirely too pleased with himself. Eventually she lifted her head and pointed at him. “Not a word.”

Edward smirked, raising his hands in mock innocence. “I would not dream of it, my love.”

The entirely too satisfied Daphne took another sip of tea. “So. Have you selected a date yet?”

Felicity shook her head at her niece, then looked at her husband-to-be. “I think we are going to make quite an interesting little family.” And she had never expected to be part of a true family again; certainly, not one of her own.

“As do I.” Edward took her hand in his. “But a happy one.”

“A very happy one,” Daphne said, taking a tart for herself. “But horrible at scheduling, it appears. Do be practical, Aunt—when will we have the wedding?”

“At the first possible moment,” Edward answered for her. “Yes?”

What else could she reply? Felicity looked between them both, her heart overflowing with joy. “Yes. I cannot imagine waiting another moment longer than necessary.” She had never looked to her own happiness at all, in her memory. Now that it was within her grasp, she would seize it gladly—with both hands.

* * *

The day before his wedding, Edward sat in Briarwood’s study, glaring at the surface of his desk. The desk his father had left to him. The same desk where his father had likely written letters to him during his time in the army, never once mentioning the son Edward had unknowingly fathered.

Perhaps he needed a new desk. Or to make better use of this one. Perhaps he ought to write a letter, many letters, full of his love to Felicity? Perhaps. Later.

He had been awake for hours. Sleep proved an impossible thing. The experience hadn’t been unpleasant, exactly, but charged with the weight of change.

He was to be married. Felicity Price had agreed to be his wife.

That fact alone had rerouted the course of his life overnight, but another change awaited him now, sitting on the desk before him after arriving in that afternoon’s post, seemingly innocent.

A letter.

It sat on the edge of his desk, the seal unbroken, the script of his investigator’s hand unmistakable. Given the nature of the man’s last correspondence, this letter would hold the final report. It would tell him if his son was still living, and where.

After a soft knock on the door, Felicity entered the study without hesitation, as if this were already her house to walk freely. He had to smile at her as she approached, grateful for her unexpected presence.

“There are enough blooms in the garden for a small wedding bouquet. Daphne has already chosen which she will cut for me in the morning,” she told him, her eyes bright with an excitement which made his heart turn over. “The gardener is astonished. He said he did not think we would see any blooms large enough for another fortnight at least.”

“We are fortunate the roses seem to know we have need of them.” Edward tried to make his tone light to match her joy, but concern weighed his words.

Felicity took in his expression, then glanced at the letter, then returned her gaze to him. “Is that what I think it is?”

Edward nodded slowly.

Neither of them moved for a moment until she circled the desk to stand beside him, her hand taking his. “I am here. I will be here as long as you need me. We can read it together, if you like.”

Edward lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across the back of it. His bride. His captain. His Felicity. “Thank you, love. Now that you are here, I think I can read it.” He released her hand and slowly, he reached for the letter, broke the seal, and unfolded the paper.

It was time to know what so many others had kept from him, all these years.

Felicity put her arm around his waist and leaned against his shoulder, supporting him in silence as he read the letter.

His son had been found.

The letter was brief, to the point—details on where the boy lived, with whom, and what sort of life he had been given. Edward read it twice, his grip on the page tightening just slightly before he set it down.

Felicity did not ask him what it said. She did not demand answers. She merely remained with him, solid and steady.

“They named him James.” He laughed as tears fell down his cheeks. “James Thornton. A couple adopted him many years ago, a vicar and his wife. He’s a vicar’s son.” Slowly, he lowered himself—not to the chair, but all the way to the carpet.

Felicity, his love, came with him, still holding him tight.

“He is alive and healthy, studying to be an attorney. He has sisters and brothers.” Edward held the letter for Felicity to read. “And he’s but a day’s journey from here. I could see him. I could see him, if I wished.” He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself.

His son. He was safe. He was well. And he was nearby.

“I am so happy for you,” Felicity said, her voice soothing. “And I will be with you. Whatever you decide to do, Edward. Truly, this is marvelous news. You must be relieved beyond measure.”

Edward laughed again, sitting up slightly to better look into her eyes. “Thank you, Felicity. That you can rejoice with me is a gift.”

She reached into his coat and took out a handkerchief. How she knew he kept it there, he did not know, but he wasn’t surprised. His bride dabbed at his cheeks then pressed the cloth into his hand. “Anything that brings you happiness will bring me the same. James is important to you, whatever may come next, so he is important to me.”

Truly, he did not deserve her. “Thank you.” He looked at the letter again, then folded it carefully. “I will first take this letter to Lord Blackstone.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows. “You mean to tell him all?”

“Some of it,” Edward admitted. “Not the name of his mother. Not details—James deserves to make his own name and way into Society, as he chooses. But enough that Lord Blackstone will not think me completely without morals. If he still wishes to eject me from the club, so be it. We will still find a way to ensure Daphne’s future happiness—and ours.”

Felicity watched him with intelligent eyes, assessing, then nodded. “I hope he will finally see what I have always known. You are an honorable man.”

Edward lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a quiet kiss against her fingers. “With you beside me, Felicity, I can endure whatever comes.”

They stayed like that for a time, sitting on the carpet, reading the letter from the investigator. He told her what he would say to the viscount. She told him how she would change their honeymoon schedule so they could visit the county where the young James Thornton lived. Together, they would make plans and move forward. The thought comforted him, and it gave him the strength of mind to gather himself for a visit to Blackstone’s club.

A short while later found Edward entering the familiar foyer of the building, Plockton noting the visit in his book. The familiar hush of the club greeted him as he walked up the stairs, the weight of past conversations lingering in the air.

He went to Lord Blackstone’s study without delay in the hope of finding him there, and was in luck. The viscount looked up from his desk as Edward entered, his gaze sharp but not unwelcoming.

Edward wasted no time in setting things right. “I have come to offer an explanation,” he said, removing the letter from his coat.

Blackstone folded his hands together, nodding once. “Proceed.”

And so, Edward told him. Not all of it; not the young woman’s name, nor the boy’s. He had covered the names on the letter with pinned slips of paper. What he had to say must be enough.

That he had once been forced away from the life he might have had. That he had loved her, would have married her had his parents and hers permitted it. That he had wanted to stay, torn from her side and forced down a path of duty he had not chosen. That decisions had been made for him. That he had learned of her marriage, and learned not to think of her. That, years later, he had discovered a truth which had changed everything.

Blackstone listened without interruption. When Edward finished, he set the letter down and met the Colonel’s steady gaze with one of his own.

“I do not ask for your approval,” Edward said politely. “But I will not allow my character to be questioned unjustly. I made mistakes, and I own them, without tearing down the reputation of any others. I will see those mistakes righted, if I can. And I am not without honor.”

After a long moment, Blackstone smiled. It was not a smug or triumphant smile, but one of respect—a respect earned. “You are a better man than I expected, Colonel.” The viscount inclined his head. “I will speak no more of removing you from this club. You are a most welcome member.”

Edward exhaled slowly, allowing the tension in his shoulders to ease.

“I also understand congratulations are in order,” Blackstone added, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You are to be married?”

Edward tilted his head slightly. That wasn’t exactly common knowledge, though they had informed the Normans by invitation that very morning. “Indeed.”

Blackstone’s lips twitched. “Then allow me to wish you well. And should you ever need advice on marriage?—”

It was not perhaps polite, the chuckle that escaped him. “Will you give it, my lord? Speaking of geese and owls and I know not what else?”

Blackstone’s eyes gleamed with good humor. “Most likely, I will speak of lemurs.”

“Lemurs?” Edward chuckled, shaking his head. “I will keep that in mind.”

As he stepped out of the office, a weight fell from his shoulders. He had not erased the past, but it had been faced.

And Edward was free.