Dangerous Joy (41 page)

It was terribly hard for Felicity not to hug the young man for his genuine concern. But she stuck her nose in the air and snapped, "I know what I'm doing."

She resisted the temptation to rush over to Miles to discuss the news and instead shared a joke with a Meltonian.

Later, however, after Lord Middlethorpe had retired to rest a body suffering from a long ride on Banshee, the rest of the Rogues held another council of war.

"So," said Miles after the tale was told, "he's in deep with the moneylenders. How very pleasant. I think we have him now."

On Monday, the postbag contained another letter from Kilgoran full of light chat about life in those chilly, elegant halls. Folded with the letter was a colored drawing with the carefully printed message To Felicity, from Kieran George Dunsmore. Alongside the drawing, in case there Was any doubt, it said a white horse.

Felicity smiled at Miles through tears. "He's never had occasion to write to me before. Bless Lady Aideen."

"And he writes well for his age, too. Though I have to say that the "white" horse, if horse it is, bears a closer resemblance to Banshee than I would like."

And the next day, a package of papers arrived from Cheltenham. Since it was a hunting day, the men had already left, but the women had no qualms about settling to study the documents.

Felicity found it eerie to read the statements taken from the illiterate Bittens and hear her tragic story related in prosaic words. Yes, a young lady very like the one in the picture had spent the winter and early spring of 1811 with them, growing big with child. And she had delivered a boy which had been taken away by a woman and her husband. Yes, the woman had also appeared to be heavy with child, but had produced no child there. Yes, the couple had been summoned by the Bittens as soon as the young lady's pains started. They'd been instructed to do that.

A Mrs. Stafford of Cheltenham had written her own statement about the time Mr. and Mrs. Dunsmore from Ireland had stayed with her while the lady received medical care for her condition, which was that of carrying a child. Mrs. Dunsmore had driven out in her carriage every fine day, and one day had returned with her newborn baby in her arms, it having apparently been born suddenly in a cottage in the country. She had appeared surprisingly fit and hearty. No, she had not put the child to the breast as far as Mrs. Stafford knew and, in fact, a wet nurse had been standing by, ready.

Felicity looked up from the document with a frown. "This points the way, but it's circumstantial."

"Yes," said Beth, reading the letter from the solicitor. "Mr. Scrope says that the doctor who attended Mrs. Dunsmore was very old-retired in fact-and has since died."

"Weaselly, indeed, to choose such a one!" exclaimed Felicity. "I didn't know he had such intelligence."

"Call it cunning. I have to say, Felicity, that this isn't good. Dunsmore could claim that his wife merely helped you in your problem and found a good home for your child. And that by some strange coincidence, she also gave birth-in the carriage even-on the way home."

Felicity experienced a moment of blind panic, then put her hands to her head. "No, wait! The driver would know. She could not possibly drop off one child and give birth to another on the way home without his knowledge."

"True. But it was presumably a hired carriage. How do we find him?"

"There has to be a way. I've come too far to give up now."

Blanche smiled. "Good for you."

But Felicity wasn't sure it was good. She knew she'd relaxed her guards too far, and opened her heart to pain. If she had to marry Rupert, it Would be far worse now than it would have been before she found trusted friends and fell deep in love with Miles Cavanagh.

That evening, the men concurred with the women's opinion. Beth had already dispatched another groom back to Cheltenham to order an enquiry into the driver of the Dunsmore's carriage.

"More waiting," said Felicity to Miles. "Truly, I'm going to go mad!"

Two days later, Francis, once more mobile, announced that he must leave. He said nothing, but they all suspected it had something to do with his lady-in-distress, Serena Riverton.

"The hell of it is, he can't marry her," Lucien said after Francis's curricle had disappeared down the drive. "Apparently, she can't bear children."

That struck too close to home for Felicity. "If men weren't so obsessed by children, the world would be a better place."

"It's the inheritance laws that rule us," Miles pointed out, "not our inclinations."

"Is it not?" she asked with a meaningful look, and everyone laughed.

The next day, however, she had to tell Miles, blushing, that she was not carrying a child.

He gathered her into his arms. "I feel a touch of regret, but it's doubtless for the best. I'd prefer that our first child be born at least nine months after our wedding, particularly if your past has to come out."

"Strange, but I felt a bit of disappointment, too. Sure and it would be a fine child that came out of that wild loving."

He tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Then we'll just have to be as wild when the time comes. I'm sure we can manage that."

A shudder of pure need went through her, and she hugged him close. "And that is certainly the holy truth."

Chapter Twenty-three

And then matters rushed together with terrifying speed.

The groom from Cheltenham pounded up the frozen drive on a lathered horse with the news that the coachman hired for that springtime drive four years before had been Mrs. Stafford's second cousin, which is how she happened to know he'd moved to London to work for a livery stable there.

No, added the report from Mr. Scrope, the man had said nothing of anything strange about that day, but he was of a taciturn nature-one who believed in minding his own business.

"Strange," said Miles. "I'd have thought Dunsmore would do something about the man. Perhaps he bribed him to silence."

Felicity smiled wryly. "More likely he ignored him as if he didn't exist. A fine disdainful attitude to servants, has Rupert Dunsmore, and it's caused him trouble before."

"Then it looks as if we should go to London and find this Sam Greenwood so as to cause him even more trouble."

"But what of Rupert?"

"When he hears you're gone, he'll follow. I admit it won't be as easy to keep track of him in London, but we can always depend on him finding you."

"Now, why do I feel like a goat pegged out for a lion?"

Miles burst out laughing. "Pity the poor lion who thought you easy prey!"

Later that day, they received a letter from Francis rather tersely informing them of his marriage to Serena, Lady Riverton, and his intention to visit London for some weeks with his new bride.

Lucien whistled. "Now there's a turn-up. But I detect a silent plea." He looked over at Beth. "Would it be a terrible sacrifice for you to remove to London for a while?"

"Go to Town!" Beth gasped, hand to chest. "Go where there are libraries, theaters, museums... Leave behind this land of horse and hound! How can you suggest such a thing?"

Blanche was already on her feet, eyes shining." I'll order our bags packed."

Miles looked at Felicity. "And what of you? Will it be a relief to you, too?"

"It will be a blessed relief to be doing something."

They traveled in a parade of vehicles-Lucien and Hal in one curricle, Con and Miles in another, and the ladies and cat in Miles's coach. A small force of servants went ahead to smooth their way. Since there was a sharp frost and even some snow in the air, Felicity was pleased enough to be inside with rugs and hot bricks to keep her comfortable. She was even more grateful to find the inns always ready to receive them with every comfort.

It did rather forcibly contrast with her last journey.

Before leaving, she'd slipped out to the stables and given Josh a message for Rupert, saying where she was being taken and that he must rescue her in London. She hoped he was hot on their heels now. As soon as they had this coachman's evidence, it would be done.

The party arrived in London in the afternoon of the second day, dropped off Blanche and Hal at her pretty house, then rolled on to Belcraven House, the magnificent ducal mansion on Marlborough Square that Lucien referred to as `the Palace."

In the casual atmosphere of Vauxhall, it had been easy to forget that Lucien was of high estate. When she mounted the wide steps up to glossy double doors and entered a magnificent marble hall, Felicity was forcibly reminded.

Top-lofty servants positively swarmed around them to see to their every need. Within minutes, she found herself in a splendid room with Chinese wallpaper, silk hangings, and everything made ready for her comfort.

She changed, then joined Beth for tea in her lovely boudoir containing many shelves of books.

"Have you read them all?" Felicity asked, wandering the rows.

"At least dipped into them all. Do you not like to read?"

"Not a great deal. I prefer to be active. When this is over, I'm going back to Ireland, pulling on my breeches, and riding from dawn to dusk."

When this is over... Felicity realized that was the first firmly optimistic statement she'd made. Was she at last beginning to hope?

And was it wise?

Beth poured tea and offered cake. "Lucien and Miles have already gone out to track down this Sam Greenwood, so by this evening it could all be over bar the shouting."

Felicity clutched her saucer rather tightly. "I do hope so. Except, of course, that then I'll have to assume my role of tethered goat. I really don't ever want to see the man again..."

"The Rogues will look after you." Beth then turned the conversation to fashion but, being Beth, she engaged in a discussion of the effects of fashion on women's status in society.

Despite her anxieties, Felicity was intrigued and hardly noticed the passing of time before Miles arrived with news.

"We've got him," he declared.

"Got him!" Felicity leaped to her feet, almost knocking over a small table.

He caught her hands. "Simmer down. I don't mean we have Dunsmore in our grasp. He settled her on the sofa and sat beside her. "Greenwood told his story readily enough?

though, when we convinced him he'd been witness to an illegality. He might be taciturn, but it's a reflection of a firm morality."

He chose a piece of fruit cake. "He'll go into any court and swear that the Dunsmores went into the cottage and came out with a baby...that he then transported them home without break or incident. He was told, and believed, that she'd unexpectedly given birth there. He did volunteer that he'd thought at the time that she was a surprisingly tough woman to be quite so chipper after such an event."

"So," said Felicity, hope coming to full flower, "all we need now is to confront Rupert with our evidence. But he'll never get to me here! I have to go out..."

Miles captured her to stop her from leaping to her feet again. "Faith, my favorite volcano, rest still a moment! We'll let him find you, true enough, but in our own good time and with safeguards. It would be foolish, indeed, to let him snatch you away at this point in the game."

Felicity surrendered into his arms. It was going to be all right. Perhaps she would be allowed to enjoy Miles's love and tenderness forever. Small doubts still niggled, however. "I hope Rupert has the sense to accept defeat. He is like a weasel, you know. Cornered, he becomes mindlessly vicious."

"We'll keep an eye on him until the rage Passes. Men like that can't hold their purpose long."

She was going to argue the point, but Beth asked, "Where's Lucien?"

"Detoured to Francis's house, hoping to speak to him."

"Oh, good. I told him to see if Francis and Serena could dine here tonight. I think we'll be busy trying to establish her in Society. If we're to gallivant all over London in that cause, Felicity, it should give the weaselly one adequate access to you."

Feeling, in truth like the goat staked out for the predator, Felicity snuggled deeper into Miles's arms. She decided she could come to like being guarded and protected if she could ever quite trust in it.

As planned, the Middlethorpes came to dinner that night. Francis's mysterious lady turned out to be beautiful but clearly living on the edge of her nerves. Felicity wondered how one who had presumably achieved her aim and married the man of her choice could appear so ill- at-ease. But then she discovered that Serena Riverton's first husband had been a scandalous wretch, so she was terrified that Society would shun her.

Beth would be better at handling that than Felicity, so when it came time for the ladies to leave the dinner table, Felicity flashed Beth a wink and stayed behind. The men didn't seem to mind and a half-hour talking horses did wonders for Felicity's nerves, too.

By the time they went upstairs to the drawing room, Serena was calmer and Beth was already planning an assault on Society. The plan was to drown the scandal of Serena's unfortunate first marriage in Roguish influence.

"For we can command an astonishing degree of reflected glory," she said. "Dukes, marquesses, earls, and-more importantly-their female relatives. In the midst of all this," she added to Felicity, "if your pet weasel can't find you, he's hardly worth our trouble at all."