Page 8 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

8

Felicity

F elicity approached the three-rail fence surrounding the outdoor training arena by the Devonford Castle stables. It was covered, its large roof held up by colossal Greek-inspired columns, protecting itself from the downpour of the prior night. The Duke stood in the center of the arena with a dappled-gray horse attached to a lead, saddled and bridled, circling him.

Felicity wrapped her moss green shawl tighter around her nearly bare shoulders. One problem with wearing scantily clad dresses: there wasn’t much fabric, and it was cold as a witch’s tit in April. But needs must.

When packing her wardrobe, she and Maribeth had settled on dresses from her initial come out back when Felicity had been twenty. Felicity’s bosom had since become much more…abundant, and Maribeth had clapped and hopped with glee at how Felicity’s breasts nearly toppled out of the dresses. A few minor alterations—where even more fabric was removed—and Felicity was equipped with dresses that would bring a Duke to his knees . Mare’s words, not Felicity’s.

Two boys, one tall and gangly, the other short and—bouncing animatedly on a fence rail—stood at the three rail-fence surrounding the arena. A short man, nearly as wide as he was tall, stood next to the boys. That would be the stable master. Felicity hadn’t had much interaction with him during her visits to the castle, but his size and shape made him hard to forget. The shorter boy flipped a plait over his shoulder. Ah, not a boy—Lady Pandora. The bouncing made more sense now.

She bit her lip, a smile threatening to break free. The girl was a gem. Thank goodness Felicity had her shawl for coverage around the young girl. Trying to seduce a girl’s father could be bloody awkward business.

Especially when one liked said daughter so much. Lady Pandora seemed to enjoy life so much more thoroughly than anyone else Felicity knew. Which was in stark contrast to the reserved, always-frowning Duke.

She sidled up to the pair. “Lady Pandora, I’m glad to have stumbled upon you again.” She turned to the stable master. “Mr. Barrow.”

He doffed his hat and bowed. “My lady.”

She turned to the tall, gangly youth who looked like he couldn’t be much older than Lady Pandora. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” She smiled at the boy, and his cheeks tinted pink.

He hastily scrambled to doff his hat, revealing a wild mop of brown hair, and bowed. “My lady.”

“That there is Mr. Billy Foster. He’s our new farrier, brought on just this month,” Mr. Barrow said.

Felicity double-blinked. Farrier? But the man was…well, he was a boy . “You must be incredibly talented, Mr. Foster. You are quite young to be a farrier.” Usually farriers were much, much older, having years of apprenticeship in their possession.

His blush washed across his cheeks, darkening to a deep pink, and he fiddled with his cap. “I will be apprenticing under their current farrier for a year. But as he is gettin’ on in years, His Grace was needin’ someone who could handle the more wild horses he works with.”

“Don’t let that modesty fool ya, my lady. Billy here is nearly as good with the horses as the Duke is himself. And that is saying something.”

The boy toed the ground, his mouth pulled in a smile that looked much more like a grimace of discomfort.

Fortunately for the young man, Lady Pandora saved the poor boy from the uncomfortable attention. “I am so grateful the roads flooded, Lady Felicity.” The girl beamed at Felicity and swayed back and forth on the fence rail. “I hope they stay impassible long enough that you cannot leave until after my party.”

Felicity chuckled. “I hope so, too.”

And she meant it. More than just because of The Plan . Felicity could imagine it was quite isolating out here in the country for a young, exuberant girl like Pandora. She turned back to the Duke, who now stood with his horse, patting the animal down, pulling and tugging on the stirrups.

“What is your father doing out there?”

Mr. Barrow jerked his chin toward the arena. “This is a new horse, been here just nigh a month. His Grace is going to try for the first time in the saddle with her today.”

The Duke stepped onto a mounting block and put his foot in the stirrup, the fabric of his fawn riding breeches stretching tight over muscled thighs. He bounced up and down, similar to his daughter standing beside Felicity. Then he stepped down and patted the horse some more.

Felicity frowned. “Why did he stop?”

But just as the words left her mouth, he stepped back into the stirrup and draped himself over the horse’s back. Breath fled Felicity on a whoosh.

He spread himself over the horse’s back facing away from them. Which meant—oh dear heavens—his arse was a work of art. And it was right there, flexing deliciously while he patted the horse’s light-gray marbled neck. Right there for her perusal. Taut and tight as he turned to pat the beast’s hindquarters. Well, she was anything but cold, now.

“He is easing her into it,” Mr. Barrow explained. “Making sure she knows he’s there. You don’t want a horse to spook at any sudden movement or noise. You want her to be comfortable and not forgettin’ you’re on her back. So, he’s getting her used to his presence, his weight, the feel of him on her.”

Oh dear. She was even warmer now. She knew the stable master’s words held no innuendo, but her body couldn’t help but want the Duke to do the same to her, especially considering the current view. First, hand railings and now rehabilitating horses. Yes, she was cracked in the head. Her lust for the Duke apparently knew no bounds.

“Are you ogling my father’s bottom?” Lady Pandora asked, a dimple popping in the girl’s cheek.

Mr. Foster let out a choked noise, and Felicity nearly squeaked but managed a smile with heated cheeks instead. It wasn’t even forced because Lady Pandora looked so impish Felicity couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wouldn’t say I’m ogling his bottom. It just happens to be front and center at the moment.”

Mr. Barrow chuckled next to her and murmured under his breath, “Oh, Lady Pandora.”

It was true, the girl didn’t know when her thoughts were better kept to herself. Felicity found it adorable. It reminded her of home.

“Well, yes. But when I look at Papa’s bum, I am not looking at it like that.”

Felicity snorted. Like that thought right there.

“I surely hope not,” Felicity jested, catching Lady Pandora’s eye.

“Aha! So, you are ogling his bum! It must remind you of Colborn’s bum.”

Mr. Barrow barked out a laugh, and Felicity’s frame shook with her own suppressed laughter. Oh, the dear girl. Utterly unrestrained. Felicity brought her fingers to her lips, fighting the grin determined to break free. Oh goodness, the poor farrier was as red as a beet.

“Yes, something like that,” Felicity murmured.

The Duke’s arse was similar to Colborn’s, yet Colborn’s inspired nothing in her. Whereas the man before her… His arse had her insides doing all sorts of crazy things, desperate, needy things. Odd that. Two similar arses, but two completely different responses. She hadn’t once felt overcome by any emotion other than annoyance with Colborn. Nothing like whatever had passed between her and the Duke back in the breakfast room.

His Grace repeated his process from the other side of the horse. His new position didn’t allow for any arse ogling, but his strong jaw, the muscles rippling in his arms as he stretched over the horse, were equally worthy of admiration.

The group’s laughter subsided and silence settled over them, all lost in watching man and horse communicate, the Duke’s soft words traveling over to them. “That’s right sweetheart, I’m right here.” He ran his hands over her neck. “Good girl. Look at you. Such a good girl.”

His words melted over Felicity, and the heat came rushing back, her stomach doing a silly, fluttery dance. He swung up into the saddle, continuing his endearments and coasting his hands over the mare. Felicity was now very jealous of the horse.

“Atta girl. See, nothing to fear here. We’ll go nice and slow for your first time, sweetheart.” He turned and patted her hindquarters as the mare danced under him. “Just get you used to having me on you,” he cooed.

Oh, heavens. Yes, please. Felicity almost raised her hand and asked if she could go next.

“Before you know it, we’ll be going for long, hard rides, and you’ll love every minute of it, darling.”

Kill me. Just kill me, please.

“So, what will he do now that he’s in the saddle?” she asked, desperate for distraction. Bloody hell, her voice had come out all tight and strangled—affected. She cleared her throat. “Will he take her out for a ride?”

Mr. Barrow shook his head. “No, he won’t do much more with her. She’s doing well with him, and he’ll want to end on a good note, so she gets rewarded. He might walk her around the arena a time or two. But he won’t want to push his luck.”

She had known he rehabilitated horses but had never witnessed it firsthand. It was wondrous to see. He was so calm, so gentle. It seemed like such a small achievement—sitting in the saddle for a few brief minutes.

To think he had worked with this horse for a month already to get to this point. She was so used to men of the ton and their impatience, their demand for instant gratification. This man knew the value of unwavering patience…the rewards of persistent effort. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have the attention of such a man. Have all that persistent effort directed toward her.

Much different than the future that awaited her with Colborn.

The Duke walked the mare slowly around the arena, reins loose, still cooing his soft words. What kind of man, what kind of duke , worked with mistreated horses? And simply because he wanted to. The damned fluttering returned.

And that was when it happened.

The mare shied, her body jerking out from under the Duke, his body swinging in the opposite direction. And Felicity swore her heart swooped out of her chest just as violently. He instantly corrected, re-seating himself. She relaxed.

And then the horse reared up.

Mr. Barrow was over the fence, his body tense, poised, and ready to run to the Duke’s aid. The mare came back down, and Felicity could barely hear the Duke’s words over the pounding in her ears.

“Good girl. It’s all right, my darling. Easy, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Easy.”

A look passed between the Duke and the stable master, and even as the horse reared back up, Mr. Barrow stepped back against the fence. Felicity gripped the fence rail, nails biting into the white wood.

It all happened so fast, it couldn’t have been longer than a minute. But it was as if time slowed, the minute dragging out painfully long. The mare didn’t come back down this time. Horse and rider were suspended mid-rear, the horse pawing the air with frantic hooves, eyes white and wild. Each thrash of the horse’s hoof felt like a direct hit to Felicity’s gut.

The Duke kicked his feet out of the stirrups, leaning flat against the mare, his thighs straining as he held onto the mare with just arms and legs. The horse teetered on her back legs and Felicity’s heart jumped to her throat, out of her body. She couldn’t breathe. And for a heart-stopping moment, the mare—Oh, God, she was going to topple over backwards.

The Duke threw his weight on the mare’s neck, and she tilted forward, coming back down in a cloud of dust as her hooves blessedly met sand. He immediately pulled the mare’s head in with the reins, and she started spinning tight circles.

Mr. Barrow let out a loud exhale, and Felicity finally took a breath. If the stable master could breathe, she knew the danger must have passed.

She glanced over at Lady Pandora who was as white as her lawn shirt. The young man next to her just as ghostly pale. It was the first time Felicity had ever seen the girl completely immobile. Felicity gently pried the girl off the fence and tucked her to her side, brushing the girl’s arm.

“Everything is well, Pandora. Your papa is well.” Felicity wished her racing heart believed her words, but it hadn’t caught up with her brain yet.

The slight girl trembled in Felicity’s arms, but she nodded.

“He was always in complete control, Lady Pandora,” Mr. Barrow assured. “Don’t fret. If she were to go over, he would have jumped. He was ready; you saw him free his feet. Your father’s been at this a long time. He can read a horse better than any horseman I know.” He turned to the young farrier. “Yer well, Billy?”

“Y-yes, sir,” the lad said, though his attempt at bravery was diminished by the quaver of his voice.

The Duke and the horse were still spinning in tight circles, the Duke sitting tall, reins loose, his hands resting on the mare’s mane. A shuddering breath left Pandora, and she turned into Felicity.

Pandora’s muffled words barely reached Felicity’s ears. “He is all I have.”

The girl’s words wrapped around Felicity’s heart and squeezed hard. The poor girl. No mother. Two brothers grown and barely ever home. All alone on this large estate. Felicity frowned at that. All alone…not even a governess. Where was the girl’s governess?

“What is he doing now?” Felicity asked, hoping to distract the still shaking girl in her arms. She tucked a few loose tendrils behind the girl’s ear, glad to see a bit of color coming back in Pandora’s cheeks, ones that still held the slight apple-roundness of youth.

“Something frightened the poor thing. She’s worked herself in a tizzy, she has,” Mr. Barrow said. “She’s circling like that all on her own because she’s so worked up. He’ll let the anxious thing work it out on her own now. Poor sensitive soul was trained with a rough hand, with rough equipment.” The stable master’s voice turned hard. “Badly beaten when she came to us. Purely because she didn’t understand what her poor excuse for a trainer was asking her to do. Criminal is what is it. Nothing the Duke can’t fix.”

By the end of Mr. Barrow’s explanation, Pandora had relaxed into Felicity, no longer shaking. The stable master headed to the center of the arena, where the Duke was dismounting.

“Come with me, Billy,” he called over his shoulder.

The boy scrambled awkwardly over the fence, shooting a glance back at Felicity and Lady Pandora, his gaze lingering overlong on Lady Pandora. The tension in his features seemed to relax slightly as his gaze trailed over the girl in Feliciy’s arms.

Interesting .

“Walk her out, Barrow, and brush her down extra.” The Duke’s low, authoritative tone snapped Felicity’s attention back to him. “She needs some extra love after that.”

The Duke’s gaze landed on Felicity, quickly glancing down to his daughter in her arms. Something unreadable flashed across his face, but he quickly cleared his expression and threw them a smile.

A rare, breath-stealing smile. Like a thief, it stole the air right from her.

He lifted a hand. “All is well, Pandy Pie.”

With that, spirit seemed to rush back into Pandora. A wide smile split her lips, and she blew her father a kiss, which he promptly caught and put on his cheek.

And Felicity died a little inside. Every impossible dream of true love, of a houseful of children, of a forever kind of family and affection, came bubbling up to the surface. An unbearable yearning skittered through her veins, one she didn’t quite understand. One that made it impossible for her lungs to sufficiently draw in air.

“I need to wash quickly, but then why don’t we do something fun,” he called over to his daughter.

Pandora bounced next to Felicity, and the girl being back to her usual self was almost enough to distract Felicity from the fact the Duke just mentioned washing.

Almost.

“Pistols!” Pandora shouted. “Target practice.”

He nodded his assent. He started to turn away toward the stable master and caught Felicity’s gaze for a breath. God, having eyes that blue should be outlawed.

She let her shawl drop off her shoulders.

He tripped.

She smiled.

“I think I need to visit the kitchens after that,” Felicity said, pressing a hand to her still-racing heart as she watched the Duke walk away, a smile curving her lips.

She hoped with her little shawl drop he would be thinking of her as he washed. Caught up in the excitement of the horse incident, Felicity had almost missed all chance at progressing with her seduction. It wasn’t much, but his little trip was a step in the right direction.

Lady Pandora turned to her, her large blue eyes blinking curiously. “We just broke our fast not that long ago. You are hungry already?”

Felicity’s smile widened. “While I’m never opposed to a nibble, I was actually hoping I could assist Cook with some baking. I find it soothing, and I’m still feeling a touch anxious myself after that ordeal.”

She linked arms with Pandora, and they started the journey back to the castle.

“That’s not very normal for a lady, is it? Baking with the servants, I mean.”

Felicity contemplated her answer, studying the towering stone castle and the bands of red and yellow tulips gracing the gardens surrounding the perimeter.

“It is a rather odd thing for a lady to partake in. And something many would frown upon. It is not something I would ever announce in public circles.” She turned a smile on Pandora. “But I feel as though I can be myself here.”

Pandora smiled back. “That’s good, Lady Felicity. You can be whoever you want to be here. I’m quite odd, so it is nice to learn you are odd, too. It is comforting to hear someone as graceful and well-regarded as you has peculiar habits.”

Felicity’s smile almost faltered as anger prickled her skin on the young woman’s behalf. Pandora was not odd . She was different from what society demanded a lady must be, yes, but she was not odd. She was lovely and unique and genuine.

What was horribly sad was all that uniqueness, what made Pandora special, was what society would hold against her when the girl finally had her come out in a few years. Felicity’s nose stung, and she cursed herself for the tears that were building. But God bloody damn it, the injustice of it all. She had never been allowed to be who she truly was. Because it was well-known that gentlemen who could appreciate such uniqueness? They didn’t exist.

Stark blue eyes flashed in her mind. The Duke allowed Pandora to be exactly her quirky self. Perhaps there was one such man.

Felicity squeezed Pandora’s arm and shook off her cynical, depressing musings. She had known this girl for four years, but this was the first time she’d had a chance to interact one-on-one with her. With Pandora being so much younger, she hadn’t been able to join in most of the activities of the adults.

“Call me, Felicity, dear. I think we are long past formalities. We are friends.”

That elicited a wide grin from the girl, and they chattered the rest of the way to the kitchens.

When they arrived in the kitchens it was to find Cook, a short, stout woman with dark brown hair streaked liberally with grey and tucked up beneath a white cap, mixing something in a large porcelain bowl with a massive wooden spoon.

“Cook!” Pandora exclaimed. “We are here to help you with baking. Lady Felicity likes to bake. Can you believe that? A lady who bakes!”

Cook smiled at Pandora, her rosy cheeks bunching. She wiped the back of her hand over her brow. “That works out quite well, my ladies. I am preparing dough for pastries right now. It needs some cutting in and then some kneading. Then we’ll be needing to decide what we’re making with it.”

“We would love to help, Cook,” Felicity said.

“Since we’re helping,” Pandora said, bounding around the worktable to stand next to Cook. “Does that mean we get to choose the dessert?”

Cook’s warm brown eyes sparkled. “I think that is a fair exchange. As long as we have the ingredients, though.”

“Little minnie pies!” Pandora shouted. She let out a groan. “I just loooove those little pies.”

Felicity grinned and leaned toward Pandora. “I do, too.” She waggled her eyebrows. “When they’re smaller, I feel like I can indulge in so many more without the guilt.”

“Yes!” Pandora’s big blue eyes stretched wide. “That’s exactly it. It’s like my mind is tricked into thinking I’m getting a feast. And more pies, means more joy!”

Cook glanced at Felicity, her lips twitching. “What fillings would you like, my ladies?”

“Rhubarb!” Pandora whooped, twirling herself around, plait whipping wildly.

Felicity let out a soft snort. The girl’s exuberance was catching. “Lemon, for me, please.”

“Perfect, we have ingredients for both of those. You two get to cutting and kneading, and I’ll collect what we need for the filling. Make sure to flour the counter and your hands generously.”

Within minutes Felicity and Pandora were covered nearly head-to-toe in flour—the girl was a bit enthusiastic with her pie preparations.

“So, pistols?” Felicity asked, pressing the heel of her hand into her dough. “Is that something you and your father partake in often? I’ve never shot a pistol before.”

Pandora’s blue eyes widened as she smashed her dough with her knuckles, poofs of flour billowing into the air. “Never?”

Felicity shook her head.

“Don’t worry, I am sure you will catch on quickly. Papa will show you. He is the most excellent tutor. He is the one who has instructed me on my dressage. He is truly the best of fathers.”

Felicity was coming to see that. He may appear gruff and withdrawn, surly even, but it seemed to be just that—an appearance, an act. Felicity had no idea what the reason behind the facade was, but if the smile he shot his daughter earlier was any indication, the love the man held for his daughter surpassed all measure. She was desperate to find out more about the man.

Pandora leaned forward, her eyes narrowing conspiratorially. “My goal is to be a better shot than both my brothers. I plan to best them both at my birthday in pistols and archery. That is if Jacob shows. But Colborn always comes, and I will most definitely best him.”

“An admirable goal, one I can’t say I wouldn’t secretly have as well.” Felicity leaned into her dough as she pressed her knuckles into it, working the dough and the anxiety of the near-accident out of her system.

Pistols, dressage, breeches. While Felicity loved everything that made Pandora unique, the girl did need to behave as a lady ought when she was out in society, at least for appearances sake. To survive in this world. As unfortunate as that fact may be.

“Pandora, do you happen to have a governess? I haven’t heard mention or seen one and usually a weekday is not a day a governess would have off.”

Pandora stilled, and then immediately began flattening her dough again. “Urm. No, I do not. Papa has had trouble finding one who is the right fit. None of them stay very long once they begin working with me. It is unfortunate Papa cannot teach me how to be a proper lady. But not being one himself…” She bobbed her shoulder. “I hate disappointing him.”

She looked up at Felicity and there was such innocent sincerity shining in her blue irises it made Felicity’s heart ache. Felicity reached over and squeezed Pandora’s wrist, leaving a floury handprint on the girl’s arm. They both looked at it and broke out in giggles.

It was difficult to learn of this dynamic between Pandora and the Duke, that he was nothing like his wastrel son and everything like what Felicity had imagined for her future. Fondness and acceptance and loyalty.

But she shoved those thoughts aside, because if she didn’t succeed with The Plan she was ensured to never have a chance at any of those things. It was quite clear Colborn was not his father and, unfortunately, Felicity was betrothed to Colby and not the Duke.

She frowned at the errant thought.

She gave her dough some extra hard thumps, beating away her runaway thoughts. “Would you tell me a bit about what you struggle with, Pandora? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

Pandora’s blonde eyebrows twisted together, and she went slightly cross-eyed as she contemplated. Felicity bit back another smile.

“I suppose I find the typical ladylike activities rather boring. I struggle with sitting still, so embroidering and watercolors and sketching drive me batty. The pianoforte wasn’t so bad because at least my fingers and feet were occupied. But my mind would wander and then I would lose track of what I was supposed to be playing, where I was on the sheet of music.

“And goodness, wearing dresses is so inconvenient. And they wanted me to know all these rules about how to act in society and be graceful. Me .” Pandora scoffed and then chewed on her lip. “I think they would get frustrated with my lack of interest and quit on me. I do try,” she added quietly.

“Hmmm,” Felicity hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think you need to force yourself to practice activities you do not like. Did you know archery is considered an acceptable accomplishment for a lady?”

Pandora’s face lit up. “Truly?”

“Yes, though I don’t think pistols would be. So perhaps just like I keep baking a secret, you keep that one to yourself as well.” She winked at Pandora, and the girl’s face split in a dimple-popping smile.

“It’ll be our secret! Our friendship secret.”

“Exactly,” Felicity said, grinning back at the girl. “Now, you have archery, which is fantastic. But an activity you must be accomplished in, no exceptions, would be dancing. Have you had a dance instructor?”

Pandora’s face fell. “I did, but I broke my last one’s foot.”

Felicity’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Pardon?”

“I accidentally twirled us into a suit of armor, and it fell on him and crushed his foot,” she said sheepishly. “I am a bit wild with my dancing. He kept saying I was trying to lead, but I swear I wasn’t. I was just so nervous that I lost all sense of time and space and… Well, we crashed into things.”

A small laugh burst through Felicity’s lips. She could imagine the exact situation Pandora described. They began rolling out their dough, and she tilted her head, studying the girl from the corner of her eyes.

“What is it you like about dressage?” she finally asked.

The girl frowned at her rolled out dough. “I…suppose I like the connection with the horse. How we act as a unit. The challenge of making our communication as subtle as possible. It is like our own secret conversation. And I just like horses in general. They do not judge me. They accept me.”

The girl said it so plainly, like it was a mere fact that people judged her, a common occurrence. And while she didn’t show a hint of upset at the notion, Felicity was upset on her behalf.

Felicity wished she could follow Pandora around when the girl made her debut and slap each paper skull who spoke poorly of the girl. Felicity’s heart constricted. If The Plan worked, she most likely wouldn’t see Pandora very often afterward.

She cleared her throat and the melancholy heavy in her chest. “You know, what you described sounds a lot like dancing Pandora.”

“It does?” She looked up at Felicity, something akin to hope glowing in her eyes.

“Yes, what you speak of—the communication, working as a team, the connection—that is all imperative in dancing. That is the challenge in it,” Felicity said. “Perhaps if you started with mastering the skills needed for dancing with those you felt comfortable with, you could branch out to others more easily. I would be happy to practice with you. As would your papa or your brothers, I’m sure.”

Felicity pursed her lips. “There is something…invigorating when you finally find a partner who can communicate fluidly with you. I am sure you know that feeling from working with your horse.”

Pandora seemed to think that over, her head tilting from side to side absently. “That does sound less intimidating. Is that how you felt dancing with my brother? Is that how you knew you wanted to marry him? That feeling?”

Felicity kept her smile plastered on her face even as a painful knot twisted in her stomach. A leaden knot. Colborn was fine to dance with, but it wasn’t the magic she had fancifully dreamed of.

She had never had a choice with Colborn. She was paraded out, and he had pointed to her and said mine . And that was the end of it. Her future decided. And when that future slowly looked more and more grim, did she have any say, any control over changing it? She barely kept her cynical laugh inside.

“Your brother is a very accomplished dancer,” she finally settled for.

Pandora looked up and smiled at Felicity, oblivious to Felicity’s inner turmoil. “It would be fun to dance with you. As long as you wouldn’t fear for your feet.”

“Perhaps we choose somewhere far away from suits of armor,” Felicity said, letting out a huff of laughter.

The girl jumped up and down.

“But—” Felicity lifted a finger, and Pandora stilled, though her frame visibly vibrated. “You have to wear a dress.”

Pandora wrinkled her nose. “Fine, you have a deal.”

Felicity reached for Pandora’s hands and clasped them between hers. Pandora looked up at her, blonde brows puckering. This lovely girl…Felicity wanted to help her, protect her, give her the small semblance of control a woman in their world could have.

“You will not enjoy learning nor doing everything that life necessitates of you, Pandora. That fact is not unique to us, it is something that applies to everyone in this life. But instead of looking at it as a negative, I challenge you to look at it as acquiring another strength, another tool. And I will admit, I do not enjoy many ladylike behaviors either.” She leaned forward and whispered, “I hate wearing dresses, too. Dresses are not very convenient for climbing trees.”

Pandora’s lips parted, her eyes growing wide in silent question: really? Felicity nodded.

“But all the skills I have developed have given me power. When I am in the comfort of my own home, when I am with confidants”—she winked at Pandora—“I do as I want. But when I am out in society, I can equip myself with whatever skills necessary to assist me through the particular situation I am in. If I need to act the part of a future duchess”—she popped a shoulder in a shrug—“I can. If I want to make myself a lemon pie, I can. I guarantee many duchesses can’t do that.” She wiggled flour-covered fingers playfully at the young girl.

“If I need to make an appearance in Hyde Park, I can take a leisurely side-saddle ride. I can also best my brothers in a full-out gallop on our estate riding astride. It is never a bad thing to acquire more knowledge and more skills. To then use to your advantage. To take away another’s ability to use something you lack against you.”

Pandora chewed her lip. “That makes sense. But some things are just so dreadfully dull.”

Felicity tweaked the girl’s nose. “Sometimes you just need to look at something from a different angle, like dressage and dancing. And sometimes you will discover learning certain things you didn’t find interesting before, become interesting when you have the right company.”

Pandora stared up at her and then nodded once matter-of-factly. “I think you are exactly right, Felicity. Like baking with you. I never thought much of baking, but I would always bake with you.”

Oh heavens, what was this bloody substance blurring her vision? This girl truly couldn’t be any sweeter. She hid the emotion building her chest with an overbright smile. “And I never thought I’d ever desire shooting a pistol. But I am quite excited to try now with you.”

“And Father,” Pandora added and turned back to cutting her dough. “He is a crack shot.”

The girl suddenly hopped up and down. “Papa!”

Felicity looked up—and was pinned by a pair of vivid blue eyes.

The Duke leaned against the doorframe in the doorway to the kitchens, hair damp and curling on top, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, wearing a simple tan waistcoat and brown trousers. No man had the right to look so handsome, breathtaking. The intensity of his stare sucked the breath right out of her lungs. He owned the air she breathed, claimed it with nothing but his deep-blue stare.

Her hand came to her throat, and his eyes dipped, darkened. Yes, she did quite look forward to learning to shoot pistols with the Duke. Felicity thought she would happily watch grass grow with the man standing before her.