‘In fact, it suits me very well, for I need to see Sir James and it is so early that I am sure he will not object to my disturbing him. Therefore I will come with you—I beg your pardon, Miss Brown, did you say something?’
‘She coughed,’ said Lydia quickly. ‘But really, my lord, there is no need—’
‘Madam, I insist.’ Nathan held out his arm and after a brief hesitation Lydia placed her fingers upon his arm and allowed him to escort her to the waiting carriage. Felicity followed closely. She was aware of an unnerving and quite illogical temptation to reach out and cling to the skirts of Nathan’s black evening coat.
Nathan had been quite sincere in his assurances. He was glad of an excuse to quit Lady Somerton’s soirée. He had never intended to remain there for long, and if by escorting Lady Souden to her home he could have five minutes’ conversation with Sir James it would save him time in the morning.
He handed Lady Souden into the carriage then turned to her companion. The little hand in its kid glove trembled beneath his fingers but that did not surprise him; Miss Brown seemed to be a very nervous person. She did not even lift her head to thank him as he helped her into the coach.
The journey to Berkeley Square was short and Lady Souden kept up a flow of conversation to which Nathan willingly responded, although he found his attention straying to her companion, sitting quietly in the corner. Even enveloped in her cloak there was something familiar about the way she held herself. Who was she? Why did he feel that he should know her?
He thought of the women he had met during his days with Wellington’s army and a silent laugh shook him. Perhaps one of the lightskirts he had known had come to England and decided to turn respectable. They would be very likely to take an innocuous name such as Brown! He glanced again at the little figure sitting bolt upright by the window. No, that was not the answer. His instinct told him the chit was no straw damsel. From what he had seen of her, she behaved more like a nun.
Nathan realised Lady Souden was still talking to him, and he broke into her nervous chatter to say with a touch of impatience, ‘I fear my presence makes you uncomfortable, ma’am.’
‘No—no, not at all,’ stammered Lady Souden.
‘Be assured that I have no intention of stepping beyond the bounds of propriety. Besides, you have Miss Brown here to act as your chaperon.’
‘Oh—no, no, you misunderstand me, my lord,’ Lady Souden stammered. ‘If—if I seem a little anxious, it is because—because I have a headache!’
Nathan was thankful for the dark interior of the carriage, for he was sure his scepticism was evident in his face. Something was upsetting Lady Souden, but if she wished to lie to him rather than explain, then so be it. He had long ago given up trying to understand women.
‘I am sorry to hear it,’ he replied quietly. ‘But if that is the case, perhaps we should not talk for the remainder of the journey.’
The uncomfortable silence that ensued was mercifully short. When they arrived in Berkeley Square, Nathan lost no time in handing down Lady Souden and escorting her to the door, where she thanked him prettily enough for his trouble. As soon as she had directed a footman to take him to Sir James, she grabbed her companion’s hand and hurried away.
Felicity said nothing as Lydia almost pulled her up the stairs and into her luxurious apartments. As soon as she was sure they were alone, Lydia leaned against the closed door and let out a long sigh.
‘Of all the unfortunate circumstances! When Rosthorne insisted upon coming with us I did not know where to look.’
‘That was quite apparent,’ replied Felicity, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ‘I have never seen you so flustered.’
Lydia shook her head wearily. ‘Oh, Fee, I cannot like this! Rosthorne is not a man I like to deceive. Will you not call an end to this charade?’
Felicity put back her hood. ‘I cannot, Lydia. You know I cannot.’ She turned away, her head bowed as she struggled with the strings of her cloak. Too much had happened that neither of them could forgive. She sighed. ‘I am dead to him. It is better that way.’
Lydia swung her around, saying fiercely, ‘No, it is not! You have not given him a chance to explain himself.’
‘There is nothing to explain. He was desperately in love with another woman.’ Felicity shook off her hands. ‘He has forgotten me. Let it be, Lydia, it is over.’
‘If you do not wish to tell him then there is an end to it. But I do not see how you can maintain this subterfuge. The earl is not a fool, he will recognise you eventually.’
Felicity sighed. ‘If I am very careful he need never know I am here.’ A sad little smile pulled at her mouth. ‘After all, there are plenty of pretty young ladies to distract him.’
‘Then you must go back to Souden. You would be safer there.’
‘But then who would look after you? A poor companion I would be if I deserted you now! No, I shall do my duty, Lydia, and accompany you whenever Sir James is not available. After all, I am not likely to see Lord Rosthorne so very often: Sir James will be at your side for most of the balls and concerts you will attend this summer and I may remain safely indoors.’
Lydia did not look completely satisfied with this answer but Felicity was adamant, and at length her friend shrugged.
‘Very well, if you are sure it is what you want,’ she said. ‘Ring the bell, Fee. We will take hot chocolate here in my room. I would like to change out of this gown and go and find Sir James, but Rosthorne may still be with him, and it would look very odd if my headache had disappeared so very quickly!’
An hour later Felicity made her way back to her own apartment. It was not yet midnight, but she felt very tired. The strain of being so close to Nathan had exhausted her, and yet as she lay in her bed thinking over the evening she realised she would not have missed seeing him for the world. It was not without pain, to be sure. He knew her only as Lady Souden’s companion, Miss Brown, and his indifference cut her deeply, but there was some comfort in watching him, in being near him. More comfort than she had felt for the past five years.
As the first grey light of dawn seeped into the master bedroom of Rosthorne House, Nathan threw back the bedcovers and sat up, rubbing his temples. Why, after all this time, should he dream of little Felicity Bourne?
He went to the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The view from his bedroom was a pleasant one, for it overlooked the Green Park but this morning Nathan saw nothing; he was thinking of those hectic days in Corunna five years ago. He had been sent ashore by Sir David Baird to help with the delicate negotiations with the local Spanish junta, trying to persuade them to allow the British troops to disembark. It was slow, frustrating work and it took all his attention—until one day he had turned a corner and seen three men attacking a young woman. Felicity.
She had looked magnificent with her dark gold hair in disarray about her shoulders and her eyes flashing with anger. He summed up the situation in one glance and when they dared to lay hands on her, he intervened. It was a brief tussle and they soon retreated, leaving Nathan to receive his reward, a grateful look from those huge grey eyes.
‘So, madam, where may I escort you?’
‘I do not know. That is, I have no place to stay here in Corunna.’
