Page 47

Felix

Thornfield Hall,

Jennings Family Country Seat.

Kent, England.

One week later…

Felix scrawled his signature on the letter he was writing, then folded and sealed it. He added it to the small pile in front of him. All letters addressed to members of The Harborage . It was nearly time for their next quarterly meeting, which was always held at Thornfield Hall.

Mother breezed into his study. “Ah, there you are, darling.” Her gaze tracked slowly over his features. She’d been doing that often lately. Assessing her son’s well-being. Her shoulders sagged a nearly discernible amount. Which meant she still saw what he’d been trying so hard to hide.

“Felix…” Her rose-gold brows knit, and there was so much mother’s anguish in that one word. Lydia Jennings would single-handedly fix every one of her children’s problems if she could.

She quietly closed the door and approached his desk, then settled against it.

“You do hide it well, you know. I’ve been trying to discern what exactly it is.

Your eyes have cleared. I don’t see that same haunted look you sometimes wear when your past decides to resurface. But you’re still despondent, darling.”

There was no use lying to his perceptive mother. “I’m trying, Mother,” he said quietly, fiddling with his quill.

“Perhaps it’s time you consider looking for a wife.”

His gaze snapped up to hers, eyes stretching painfully wide. His heart took off like a startled horse at the crack of a gun. It quite literally fled his chest and out the study. How on earth was that a solution to make him feel better?

“I know, I know. Breathe, love.” She rested a hand on his wrist and that small connection eased a bit of his panic. “But even if you won’t have romantic love with your wife, you can find friendship. Your father was my best friend, Felix. I wouldn’t have traded him for anything.”

She gnawed on her lip. “You’re lonely, are you not? That is it? Your siblings are gone. This is a large house for one man. A wife, a friend , would go a long way to fixing that.”

He reached behind him and squeezed his tightening shoulder muscles.

“What about that valet of yours?”

Felix’s attention whipped to his mother’s.

“I’m not blind, darling. You’re circumspect in your actions, but I’m your mother. After a little over thirty years, I think I would know when my son is smitten with someone.”

Felix glared at his mother. Which only had her smiling at him, her nose wrinkling just like Felicity’s did when she was overly satisfied with herself.

“It’s quite common for love to be found elsewhere. Most marriages are contractual, about what each party can gain. And that could be quite the nice arrangement.” Her brows lifted knowingly. “Having your lover as your valet.”

He groaned and dropped his rapidly heating face in his hands. This wasn’t exactly a conversation one enjoyed having with their mother. But she also spoke of things like they were so easy. So simple. They were anything but.

Felix dropped his hands and met his mother’s stare.

“There are a few flaws in that, Mother. Because while a husband might look the other way if a wife were to have an affair in a marriage that is purely a business arrangement, it is an entirely different matter when I am asking a person to look the other way for a relationship the entire world views as a sin. A crime.

“If I end up with someone I cannot trust? Who could use that against me? It wouldn’t be the first time a wife accused her husband of being a sodomite when the marriage started falling apart.

” He turned away from her and spoke to his desktop.

“I’m not sure I will ever feel safe doing that.

” He’d seen happy marriages, decades long, deteriorate, turn ugly. How did anyone trust another person?

She nudged his chin up, forcing him to meet her sad blue eyes. She gently coasted her hand over his cheek. He leaned into it, like he had when he was a small child. Soaking up the affection his parents always freely provided.

“I hate what that man did to you,” she whispered. “There is evil out there, yes, but there are also people worth trusting.”

Felix smiled sadly. He wasn’t so sure.

His mother’s hand fell away. “There’s a widowed countess coming out of mourning soon.”

Felix stiffened. “Pardon?”

“Lady Rosalind Yardley. I have it under good authority that she was in a marriage of convenience. With a husband who preferred men. She came into the arrangement already with child. She’d be an ally, someone trustworthy.

And since she already has a child, perhaps she wouldn’t demand any further from you. ”

Felix’s heart sank. Even though the situation his mother just outlined would be perfect for him.

It gave him everything he needed, another layer of protection, no need to provide children.

Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were due to welcome their first child soon, and if they had a son, and this woman wanted no further children—this really was perfect.

Then why was it all he felt was disappointment and an overwhelming sense of bitterness?

“If Fitzy and Georgiana welcome a son, there’s really no reason for me to marry at all, is there?” Felix hated the hopefulness that infused his words. But his heart sank at the thought. At the thought of letting Father down again by not fulfilling his duty as Earl and carrying on the line.

His mother was quiet for a moment, studying him. “All that has ever mattered to me and your father is your happiness and well-being. You and your father are beholden to duty and… Do I think he would have preferred you to be the one to marry and continue the line?”

She tilted her head from side to side, contemplating.

“Yes,” she finally said quietly. “But, Felix, that is only because of how proud your father was of you.

You are everything he could have ever wanted in an heir.

You have headed this family with great dignity and strength.

All from a very young age, when you were still recovering from an unthinkable hardship.

“But at the end of the day, all that matters is the line continues, and the earldom stays in capable and worthy hands. If you would prefer to wait and see if your brother produces a son, then, of course, I will fully support that decision. Just please don’t dismiss this opportunity lightly.

Lady Rosalind Yardleys don’t come around very often.

And as a mother who will never stop fretting over your well-being, the extra layer of protection a wife would provide you… ”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” Felix immediately called out.

He deflated slightly. Thank heavens. Distraction.

Hopefully, one that would last longer than a few seconds.

This conversation had really taken a turn, one Felix needed time to digest. And probably panic over.

But Mother brought up some very valid points; he wouldn’t deny her that. Ones that deserved his consideration.

His butler, Turner, stepped into the room. “The coaches from Devonford Castle have arrived to collect Her Grace’s things.”

“Thank you, Turner,” Mother said. She turned back to Felix. “Will you come with me to oversee the packing?” Her voice wobbled slightly.

Felix shoved away all his inner turmoil and instantly jumped to his feet. He tucked his mother’s hand in his arm. “Of course, Mother.”

He knew her request didn’t stem from any actual need to oversee the packing; the servants were plenty capable.

But this was the final step. Her daughter finally moved completely out of their home.

And if the way his mother’s hand gripped his arm like it was attempting to crush the bones that resided there, this wasn’t going to be easy for her to face.

“Turner, I have some letters on my desk that need to be posted. Kindly see to it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Felix and his mother exited into the hall.

He knew it wasn’t the same, but he understood some of what his mother was feeling.

His mother had been correct in her assessment of this manor being a large place for a lone man.

First Fitzy and now Flick. Everyone was moving on.

His siblings finding love, partners in life.

That sinking disappointment bore down on him again. And with it a bone-deep envy. Grey eyes flashed in his mind. Dark hair that fell so temptingly over a heavy brow. Lips curved in a perpetual playful smile, a jest always at the ready.

He held back a threatening sigh. He needed to get the man out of his head. It was like the more he tried to forget, the more vivid his dreams were, the more often the man crossed his mind.

Felix stepped through the double doors of the Thornfield Hall entry—

And missed a step.

His slight mother somehow caught him before he went down. And thank Christ for her, because Felix was aware of nothing but the behemoth of a man leaning, nonchalant as ever, against one of the Devonford conveyances.

Sam .

There was a small tug on his arm, and he blinked absently at his mother. She fluttered her eyelashes expectantly right back at him. “Perhaps we should continue down the rest of the steps? Hmm?”

He narrowed his eyes. Everyone thought Felicity got her freshness from Father. It was all Mother.

But as they approached Sam, Felix’s mouth decided it didn’t want to work.

The man had presence . Felix’s gaze devoured every inch of him, the way his arms bulged against the seams of his coat where they were crossed against his chest. The way the fabric of those sinfully tight breeches hugged what Felix knew were rock-hard thighs.

It was suddenly difficult to draw in air.

Thighs Felix was all-too familiar with. Wasn’t there supposed to be air out here?

His gaze found its way back up and clashed with a set of dancing grey eyes. Sam stared down at Felix, a small knowing smile teasing full lips that had Felix’s heart skittering across his sternum.

They came to a stop in front of Sam, and Sam instantly bowed over Mother’s hand.

“It’s so lovely to see you, Mr. Thorne,” Mother said warmly. She shot a glance Felix’s way, brows lifting. “A lovely surprise. Quite unusual for a Duke to send his valet to collect his wife’s trousseau.”

Sam’s smile tugged up in one-corner, all boyish charm. It was annoyingly attractive on him.

“Thank you, my lady,” Sam murmured. “I think we can all agree the Duke is quite unusual himself. I am here to be of assistance in any way you need.”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

Felix did not like his mother’s tone.

She gave a loving pat to Felix’s arm and then stepped away.

“Well, our servants have the packing covered. I’ll be ensuring nothing gets forgotten.

But I do believe Lord Bentley here needed some help back in his study.

Perhaps you could go with him, and he could find… some way for you to lend a hand.”

Felix nearly choked. On nothing. Heat spread up his neck. And the devil standing across from his mother only made things worse.

“I would love nothing more than to be of service to His Lordship.”

Felix’s mouth flattened, and he glared at Sam. Who only grinned wider.

“Excellent. Off you boys go.” Mother clapped her hands and then waved them off toward the house.

Felix frowned at his mother. This wasn’t an easy day for her. “Are you certain you will be well seeing to this on your own?”

She gave him a gentle shove. “All of a sudden, I am feeling much revitalized.” Her gaze flicked to Sam quickly. “Sometimes circumstances change. One must be quick to adapt.”

He nodded and swallowed hard, heart lodged in his throat. He pivoted without a word and strode toward the manor.

Every thump of Sam’s boots landed straight in Felix’s chest. What was he doing here? Felix squeezed his fists at his sides, his feet eating up ground on the way to his study, unsure if his quick pace was him trying to outrun the man behind him, or anticipation of being alone with him again.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Felix spun on Sam. Felix opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Their gazes clashed, and Sam’s confident mask slipped for the barest of moments. Felix’s heart stalled. Because in that brief slip, something raw and vulnerable sparked in those grey irises.

A spark that ignited something that felt very much like hope.