Page 6 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #1)

Chapter Six

T he next day, Felicity helped Daphne rearrange the furniture in the room they’d chosen as their primary place to pass the afternoon. With the cool winter sun coming through the western facing windows, the room had enough light and natural warmth to make the small hearth enough to keep them comfortable. Together, despite her niece’s suggestion that they request the assistance of a footman which Felicity had sternly declined, they shifted the settee to sit between the window and fireplace, then moved the three chairs to make the sitting more cozy if they welcomed guests.

“Pardon me, Miss Price.” A voice from the doorway had Felicity turning to see one of the young footmen there, his brow furrowed in curiosity as he looked around the room.

“Yes, Peter? What is it?”

He blinked and his expression became neutral once more. “Colonel Halstead has asked that you come to his study, Miss Price. To discuss an important matter, he said.”

“Oh.” She looked at Daphne with raised eyebrows and a limp smile. “I wonder what he could need now. Why don’t you find a book to read, dear? I am certain I won’t be long.” Despite her words, her stomach twisted with worry.

Was this it? The moment when he would tell her he would hire a suitable companion, that her presence was no longer needed? True, it was somewhat unconventional for her, a member of Daphne’s family, to stay in a bachelor’s home. But surely it made a great deal more sense to keep her than it did to hire someone else to chaperone Daphne—another stranger?

Felicity made her way to the study, walking through the bare-walled corridors, her steps echoing off the walls far too loudly. When she came to the study, the door was already open. Still, she hesitated on the threshold.

This was surely the moment where she would discover her fate.

Colonel Halstead sat at his desk, head bowed as he made a notation in a book. His red-brown hair fell across his forehead in loose waves, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on his writing. He wasn’t wearing a coat. It looked as though he had cast it off on the back of the chair, leaving him in white shirtsleeves. Somehow, the absence of the dark fabric made him look even larger than usual. Broader.

She had never particularly noticed the breadth of a man’s shoulders before, certainly not when they were hunched in concentration over estate accounts. Her brother had been…Anthony. She had barley registered his appearance. But there was something…steadfast about the Colonel. Solid in a way that unsettled her, as though this house’s weight rested entirely on his shoulders.

“Do come in, Miss Price. I will not bite.” He spoke without looking up.

Felicity stilled in surprise. He had to have heard her coming, of course. There was no carpet outside his study.

She entered quietly, approaching his desk. There she stood, waiting patiently for an invitation to sit. Though the abrupt sound of his voice had startled her, he had not spoken harshly. Indeed, his deep voice was low. Gentle, even. It struck her that she had not yet heard him raise it, nor speak harshly to man or beast.

He put the pen down on the blotter and looked up at her, his green eyes somewhat less bright than normal. “Oh do sit, Miss Price. You need never stand on ceremony with me. I had quite enough of that during my time in the army.”

She complied, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs across the desk from him. “You do not speak of that time often, sir. Not at any of the meals or conversations you have had with Daphne and me.” She looked down at her lap, clasping her hands there. “Anthony rarely spoke of such things, either. He once told me that the less a man spoke of his time at war, the more my brother respected him.”

A moment of thoughtful silence passed before she heard Colonel Halstead’s sigh. “I agree with your late brother.” Felicity glanced up to see him pass a hand over his eyes. “War is nothing to speak of lightly, nor are there as many glorious moments within it as old ballads and tales would have you believe. It is a violent, heart-breaking time, and no man who sees a battle can ever be the same as he was before.”

Here was more revealed to her about him than she had heard before, and Felicity could not let that be all she learned. Carefully, keeping her voice soft and tone polite, she asked, “How long were you in the army, Colonel Halstead?”

“Eighteen years,” he said, gaze focused on her once more. “I became an Ensign at eighteen years old. I resigned my commission shortly before Waterloo.” He grimaced, his jaw going tighter. “I am both grateful and ashamed I was not there that day. I had no way of knowing what a battle that would be. How…how it would shape the fate and end the lives of so many men.”

The words he spoke were strained, carrying a sharpness that pricked her heart. There was not a person in England who did not understand what Waterloo has cost their nation in blood.

“After so long in the military, half your lifetime, why did you decide to leave?” she asked softly. She would neither soothe his conscience nor offer him censure. What did she, a spinster with a comfortable life, know of war? She had no right to speak against him, nor enough familiarity to comfort him. Best to merely move the conversation along.

The Colonel cleared his throat and stood, tucking his hands behind his back in a surely unconscious gesture as he went to the window. “In March of 1815, my older brother sent for me. I took leave to return home, for my father was dying. There were things he wished to tell me before he passed. We had spoken little to one another since I became a soldier, you see.”

“Did he not approve?” Most men, to her understanding, took pride in their sons serving in the military.

“Oh, he is the one who forced me in,” the Colonel said, looking over his shoulder enough to offer her a bitter smile. “It was I who disapproved—at least for the first few years that I served. But, after a time, I saw the importance of what I was doing. I accepted that my father may have understood better than I did how to take the wild, reckless youth I had been and mold me into a more responsible, more honorable man. Still, I often found myself at odds with him every time I returned home. Even that last time, when he was weak in his bed, I was angry with him.”

It was quite the confession to make to a near stranger, but it did not make her uncomfortable. If anything, Felicity felt more at ease with the man. It was disarming, this glimpse of vulnerability. She had expected the Colonel to be as rigid as the walls of his study, as sparse with detail as he had been with his décor. Instead, he was proving himself all too human. Besides, Felicity wanted to understand him better, which was a most inconvenient feeling.

Here was another sign of his humanity, his imperfections. “I imagine you had good reason for such feelings. After he passed away, did you forgive him?”

Colonel Halstead turned fully to face her, hands still behind his back, eyes on hers. “Not quite. But I grow closer to that point every day.” He gave her a measured look, as though realizing how much he had revealed. “Miss Price, I don’t know why I am telling you all of this.”

Felicity remained still, uncertain what to say, but he gave a dry, almost self-deprecating chuckle.

“Perhaps because we are about to be comrades in arms of another sort.”

She tilted her head to the side as her curiosity and hope flickered brighter. Hope? Good heavens, what nonsense. What exactly did she hope for? Cooperation, surely. An agreement that she was best suited to secure Daphne’s future, nothing more personal than that. And yet, when he smiled at her in that quiet, knowing way, the thought lingered, stubborn as a weed.

“Comrades in arms, Colonel?”

He nodded once, decisively. “I have been thinking on it, and I believe it is in everyone’s best interest that you remain at Briarwood with Daphne for the foreseeable future.”

She drew in a breath, schooling her expression into polite neutrality, but inside—inside she felt blissful relief. Oh, thank the heavens.

“For Daphne’s sake, of course,” she said aloud, quite certain of herself when it came to caring for her niece.

Colonel Halstead smiled, amusement once again in his eyes. “For Daphne’s sake,” he agreed.

Her whole body relaxed. He would not replace her with a paid companion or female relative of his own. The Colonel would keep her in his home, where she could see to it that Daphne was looked after, loved, and eventually married well. Then her life’s work would be complete.

In that moment, she almost liked the man. Certainly she felt distinct gratitude toward him.

His gaze went down to the desk, and hers followed. The surface was organized, but quite full of stacks of papers, books, and—she noticed for the first time—cloth samples.

“Colonel,” she said, looking at all of it with raised eyebrows. “It appears you are under attack.”

His posture stiffened, and he shook his head slightly. “I beg your pardon?”

She gestured to the desk. “From matters of business. You look quite overrun.” She had never seen her father’s, nor Anthony’s, desk so littered with papers. “Have you no secretary? A steward, or a man of business?”

“Oh, this?” Colonel Halstead put his hand down on the large stack of books. “It is not so bad as it seems, though there is no secretary, and my man of business keeps threatening to retire. I have been told I ought to consider a steward of my own rather than sharing my neighbor’s, but that seems like nonsense considering how small the estate is, and I have only two tenants.” He tapped the books again. “These are for my personal edification and enjoyment.” He gestured to a stack of paper. “This is correspondence I have already answered and wish to file away.” Another stack. “These are bills paid.” Another. “Bills yet to be paid.” And the final stack of books. “Ledgers for the income of the estate going back to before I bought the place a few years ago.”

Hearing he bought his home rather than inherited it did not surprise her. Many a man had made his fortune during the war and returned to England in a far better financial position. He had told her about his father and older brother but moments before, too. What had they been, in Society’s rungs? “How do you find being a landowner, Colonel?”

A smile with a somewhat rueful tilt grew upon his face, and Felicity caught herself returning it as he said, “Commanding a company of mules would be an easier feat, but this one is arguably more rewarding.”

Her laugh nearly escaped, but Felicity pressed her lips together in time to stop such a thing. “And now you have a young lady to contend with.”

“She does not seem so fearsome a foe.” He retook his seat with his smile still in place, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair, gaze fixed on her. “From all I have seen, she is an even-tempered girl, clever too. Eager to like others and be liked in turn. Though certainly a touch shy with strangers.”

“Daphne is still in mourning.” Felicity rested her elbows on the arms of the chair, clasping her hands before her. “Her grief will be of a longer duration than the time we limit her to wearing mourning colors—but I do see glimmers of her usual cheerful demeanor returning. Then she seems to remember her loss, and she grows solemn again. I hope you come to know her fully. She is a delightful young lady. Kind, cheerful, and quite talented musically.”

“I look forward to hearing her perform when the pianoforte arrives.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I am told the room you wish to put it in is the one above my study?”

Felicity stilled. “Oh. Yes.” She looked up at the ceiling, then out the window. Oh dear. “I had not fully realized the positioning…”

“It will be a delight to listen to her play as I work,” he said, and she met his gaze again. Though his smile had faded, there was no doubting the sincerity in his tone. “Whether she is as talented as you say, or not. This house is far too quiet. I did not realize it until you both arrived. The servants walk as silently as ghosts, which leaves only me to stomp about it most of the time. It eases something, to hear the muffled voices of others in the house, to hear footsteps on the stairs. The house feels more alive with you both here.”

Felicity blinked at him, and for some strange reason, she felt heat creeping up her throat and into her cheeks. Surely, she was not blushing? Not at her age! She was too mature for such things. Too…well. Too much a spinster.

Really . He hadn’t said anything especially flattering, either.

“A dog or two would accomplish a similar thing, you know,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. Uncaring. “Most gentlemen keep hounds about, I believe, for companionship.”

The Colonel chuckled. “You are not the first person to suggest a four-legged companion. I fear I do not have it in me to hunt, so most good dogs would be rather wasted on me. They are bred for such a life, and I would not take in a creature only to keep it from its purpose.”

That idea ticked at her thoughts. A man who did not hunt was one thing, but to think of the preferences of an animal in such a way… She did not know what to make of it.

“We were speaking of Daphne, though,” Colonel Halstead said, before she could think of a thing to say. “I think another foray into London is in order, and soon. I wish to show her some of the sights she mentioned in the list you gave me—you likely have more purchases to make, too.”

She nodded. “Though I want to assure you, Colonel, that I am aware of the monthly stipend from the trust for her upkeep. I promise to keep well within the budget of that amount.”

“I have every confidence in your practicality, Miss Price.” He continued to seem relaxed, even a little more amused by her. “You do not strike me as a spendthrift—though I have an important matter regarding finances to address with you. You may find it indelicate for me to do so, but as you are going to be a member of this household, and therefore part of my responsibility, I hope you will see why I feel the need to speak so openly on the matter at hand.”

Felicity’s heart stuttered. A member of a new household. She truly was to stay. “I understand, of course. What is it you wish to address?”

He did not seem unduly upset. Previous experience warned her, however, that when a man discussed finances with a woman, it was most often to express disapproval over how money slipped from her fingers, despite her clear frugality.

Slowly, Colonel Halstead unfolded his arms to put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. “Miss Price, I am aware of Daphne’s situation with her father’s trust, the amount of pin money she is used to, and the size of her dowry. I have been informed, too, of her inheritance, the house and other particulars. She was well cared for in that regard by her father, though I will certainly add my own funds to support her upkeep, especially with regards to making this house a home for her.”

“Thank you for that,” Felicity said, her voice soft. For Daphne’s sake, she would always be grateful.

He moved his hand, flicking his fingers almost as though to both acknowledge and dismiss her words. Not disrespectfully. Merely efficiently. A soldier’s habit. “What I do not know, Miss Price, is whether you have funds enough to keep yourself comfortable and living in the manner with which you were accustomed in your brother’s household. When Daphne expressed displeasure that you did not make purchases for yourself while we were in Town, I realized I know nothing about your financial situation. It may be crass, but I see no way to discover what I need to without being blunt. Forgive me, but is there enough money set aside for your needs?”

It was, indeed, an indelicate question. Inappropriate in many ways, too, she well knew…yet he had a point. And stranger still, his concern wasn’t patronizing. He did not seem to pity her for her unmarried state nor see her as an inconvenience to be managed. He simply wanted to ensure she was comfortable.

How rare. How unexpectedly kind.

Felicity swallowed. She supposed that as a member of his household, even if she was not precisely his responsibility, he had a right to concern himself with such matters. Even if the discussion was a little…unsavory.

“I am not a pauper,” she said, hands tightening around the arms of the chair. “I have my own monthly stipend from the inheritance my parents left me, along with a generous gift from my late brother’s will. It is a modest amount, all told, but it is enough to set up a small household for myself, or procure rented rooms in a respectable neighborhood in Bath, if I should wish.”

“Hm.” Her host regarded her seriously for another moment. “There is an amount set aside, in Price’s will, for a paid companion for Daphne. If you would benefit from receiving such funds?—”

“No, I thank you,” she said at once, interrupting him with a flush to her cheeks. “Daphne is my niece. It is my duty to look after her so long as I am able—I would never, I could never dream of accepting a wage for such a thing.” Felicity shuddered, the mere thought repellent. “Leave it to go to her when she weds.”

“You truly have enough?” The man regarded her with an expression which had likely served him well in the army. It was serious. A lesser woman might have ducked her head beneath such a grave stare.

Felicity tipped her chin up. “More than is necessary, Colonel Halstead.”

“Just Halstead is fine,” he said, then continued before she could protest that familiarity. “If that is true, Miss Price, then I am content. But should you need anything at all, I will gladly lend my assistance. I understand Daphne must attend all manner of events, and I know female wardrobes are far more extensive than a man’s, so you will likely require as much in the way of gowns and finery as she will. You must both be turned out in your best to impress the families of potential suitors.”

That thought had not occurred to her, and the realization that her own modest attire could reflect poorly on Daphne silenced the protests rising to her lips. Bother . “You…you may have a point, Colonel.”

“Halstead,” he repeated quietly. “Please.”

She shook her head, the suggestion utterly at odds with her feelings. “I cannot possibly be on such familiar terms with you, sir.”

“Everyone outside of this house, all the servants, call me by my rank,” he said, his voice low. Almost sad, she thought. “At times—well, it feels as though I have never left the army. And besides,” his tone changed to something lighter, though it struck Felicity as a false levity. “We are comrades in arms now, joined by our cause. That makes us equals, Miss Price, so I must insist, call me Halstead. At least when we are in this house, or when others cannot hear us.”

The request was a simple one, and it was the only thing he had asked of her when she had demanded so much of him. True, Felicity had done it all for Daphne, not to earn the man’s good opinion; but he was a good man, and he had agreed to do everything he could for his new ward.

Including keeping Felicity in his home.

“Very well,” she said at last. “Halstead. Will you call me Price, then?”

“That was what I called your brother.” His smile reappeared.

“And what his other friends called him,” she said, her heart aching at her loss. She knew from experience that the ache would never fully go away, merely lessen with time. “I suppose it must be Felicity, then. I have no other names or titles.”

“I could give you one. You would make a fierce captain.” Though he said the words without a smile, his eyes twinkled, and she realized he was…teasing her.

The stoic, proper colonel, teasing her!

Truly, she ought to insist on being Miss Price and nothing more. That would be the proper, respectable thing to do. A very spinsterly thing to do…which made her very much not want to do it. “Very well,” she said sternly, attempting not to smile. “I will be Miss Price in formal occasions, and you may call me ‘Captain’ in company and ‘Felicity’ in the house.”

A broad grin broke out across his face, making an already impressive visage suddenly quite attractive. It was dangerous, how a grin transformed him. Dangerous because it made her want to see it again.

Good heavens. The man had the sort of rugged attractiveness to him that British ladies thought all soldiers ought to have.

Felicity felt the blush flooding up her neck again, and quickly jumped to her feet. If she moved quickly enough, she might escape before the heat made it into her cheeks. “Thank you for letting me stay for Daphne, Colonel. Halstead. I mean—yes. Thank you. I will let her know the happy news at once.” She curtsied as he rose to his feet, whirled around and hurried to the door.

“Of course,” she heard him say. “I will see you both at dinner?”

Felicity paused in the doorway, barely looking over her shoulder. “Yes, of course. Until then.” And did not wait a moment more to disappear from sight.

Blushing! Her! How could her body betray her so? And why? Of course, he had said kind things. And he was a handsome man. But that was no reason for her to flush like an addlepated schoolgirl.

How silly of her. Perhaps she had merely been overexcited by the good news. Yes, that had to be it: she was staying with Daphne. Relief had strengthened her reactions. And the Colonel—Halstead, that was. Halstead had been the source of the good news, so of course the blush had come on in his presence. It would not happen again.

At least, Felicity hoped it would not happen again.