connections with the Foreign Office went all the way to the top. “Still, we must be cautious, for what she lacks in intelligence, she more than makes up for in sheer spite, and if she discovers a hint of what we’ve done, well…”
“I don’t see that you’ve done all that much—” Aunt Minty began.
“Not a word!” Felicity shook her finger at the woman. “Not one word out of you or you’ll find yourself back in—”
“Miss Langley, I must speak to you,” came the deep voice that sent a tremble down her spine.
Thatcher! Oh, the devil take the man and his now inconvenient arrival! How had she forgotten him? But now that hestood towering beside her, he was impossible to ignore.
When she turned to face him, the same deep fluster that afflicted her yesterday arose anew, leaving her once again tongue-tied. She didn’t know what had her more unnerved by him—those dark eyes, or the expanse of his chest. Why, the man was like a mountain, so tall and sure of himself. And while Felicity never lacked for confidence or words, this man, this footman, left her, as Pippin had so astutely pointed out, completely flustered.
“Miss Langley,” he said, tipping his head down to look at her. “Are you well?”
“Yes, of course I am,” she snapped back, immediately wishing she could recall the words. “It’s just that—”
“Stop the carriage! Stop it immediately!” Miss Browne was calling to her driver.
Felicity’s gaze jerked in that direction and her only thought was that this entire scenario could have only been made worse if Hollindrake himself was to arrive and witness her impending humiliation.
“Miss Langley, if I could have a minute of your time, I really must—”
“Not now, sir!” Felicity glanced over him. She conveniently set aside the fact that she’d planned on sacking him, because suddenly he was a valuable asset. “Why aren’t you wearing your livery?” she asked, pointing at the jacket in his hands. “And your hair, sir? Would it have been so much trouble to have it trimmed, like I asked? Well, at least you’re clean-shaven—for the most part. I daresay we’ll be able to brazen this out once you’re wearing your livery.”
“Miss Langley,” he repeated, “I really must speak to you. Privately.”
“Can’t you see that I am in the midst of a social crisis?” she told him. “That woman could ruin me.”
His gaze turned up and eyed the approaching carriage.“But she appears to be quite friendly. Why, even delighted to see you.”
“Like a hungry she-wolf,” Felicity shot back. “If she discovers the truth, finds out what we’ve done—”
He straightened, his dark eyes now narrow gleaming slits. “What have you done?”
“That is hardly any of your concern, sir,” she replied, growing rather impatient with his overly familiar air. “Please, I need to think, I need to figure out how best to send her packing before she finds a way to ruin everything.” Then she turned an eye toward him, her gaze landing on the livery in his hands. “Mr. Thatcher, why are you still wearing your coat?”
“Because it is the middle of winter,” he replied, thick, muscled arms crossing firmly over his chest.
“What has the weather got to do with this? Take it off, right this minute. That is an order.”
Chapter 3
John Robert Bruwin, Marquess of Herrick
b. 1774
Current Residence: London and Herrick House, Kent
A most excellent candidate who is said to possess a fortune of twenty thousand a year. Has properties in three counties, connected to nearly every first family in society. Known to have exquisite taste in horses, fashion, and architecture. In other words, a perfect gentleman.
Addendum, 23 March 1812: betrothal announcement in the Times . To Miss Sarah Browne. Disregard above note about his exquisite taste.
Addendum, 7 July 1812: notice in the Times of Lord Herrick’s sudden death last week when his horse threw him. Disregard note about good taste in horses and
“I don’t see that you’ve done all that much—” Aunt Minty began.
“Not a word!” Felicity shook her finger at the woman. “Not one word out of you or you’ll find yourself back in—”
“Miss Langley, I must speak to you,” came the deep voice that sent a tremble down her spine.
Thatcher! Oh, the devil take the man and his now inconvenient arrival! How had she forgotten him? But now that hestood towering beside her, he was impossible to ignore.
When she turned to face him, the same deep fluster that afflicted her yesterday arose anew, leaving her once again tongue-tied. She didn’t know what had her more unnerved by him—those dark eyes, or the expanse of his chest. Why, the man was like a mountain, so tall and sure of himself. And while Felicity never lacked for confidence or words, this man, this footman, left her, as Pippin had so astutely pointed out, completely flustered.
“Miss Langley,” he said, tipping his head down to look at her. “Are you well?”
“Yes, of course I am,” she snapped back, immediately wishing she could recall the words. “It’s just that—”
“Stop the carriage! Stop it immediately!” Miss Browne was calling to her driver.
Felicity’s gaze jerked in that direction and her only thought was that this entire scenario could have only been made worse if Hollindrake himself was to arrive and witness her impending humiliation.
“Miss Langley, if I could have a minute of your time, I really must—”
“Not now, sir!” Felicity glanced over him. She conveniently set aside the fact that she’d planned on sacking him, because suddenly he was a valuable asset. “Why aren’t you wearing your livery?” she asked, pointing at the jacket in his hands. “And your hair, sir? Would it have been so much trouble to have it trimmed, like I asked? Well, at least you’re clean-shaven—for the most part. I daresay we’ll be able to brazen this out once you’re wearing your livery.”
“Miss Langley,” he repeated, “I really must speak to you. Privately.”
“Can’t you see that I am in the midst of a social crisis?” she told him. “That woman could ruin me.”
His gaze turned up and eyed the approaching carriage.“But she appears to be quite friendly. Why, even delighted to see you.”
“Like a hungry she-wolf,” Felicity shot back. “If she discovers the truth, finds out what we’ve done—”
He straightened, his dark eyes now narrow gleaming slits. “What have you done?”
“That is hardly any of your concern, sir,” she replied, growing rather impatient with his overly familiar air. “Please, I need to think, I need to figure out how best to send her packing before she finds a way to ruin everything.” Then she turned an eye toward him, her gaze landing on the livery in his hands. “Mr. Thatcher, why are you still wearing your coat?”
“Because it is the middle of winter,” he replied, thick, muscled arms crossing firmly over his chest.
“What has the weather got to do with this? Take it off, right this minute. That is an order.”
Chapter 3
John Robert Bruwin, Marquess of Herrick
b. 1774
Current Residence: London and Herrick House, Kent
A most excellent candidate who is said to possess a fortune of twenty thousand a year. Has properties in three counties, connected to nearly every first family in society. Known to have exquisite taste in horses, fashion, and architecture. In other words, a perfect gentleman.
Addendum, 23 March 1812: betrothal announcement in the Times . To Miss Sarah Browne. Disregard above note about his exquisite taste.
Addendum, 7 July 1812: notice in the Times of Lord Herrick’s sudden death last week when his horse threw him. Disregard note about good taste in horses and
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