CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Felicity sat in her parents’ drawing room trying to study her book on the Chinese language. Her things had been sent to her from the Home Office the day before. Apparently, when the officials and militiamen went to arrest Lady Blackstone and Mr. Ratley the morning after Mr. McDowell’s daring rescue, Lady Blackstone and the rest of their group had fled. But Lord Sidmouth’s men had collected Felicity’s and Aunt Agnes’s things for them.
Three days had passed since she and Aunt Agnes had ridden back to London in Mr. McDowell’s hired carriage. She remembered little of the trip besides waking up snuggled against Mr. McDowell’s arm. She closed her eyes and groaned just thinking about it. What must he think of her?
Thankfully, she also remembered little of her rescue from Doverton Hall, but enough to know that she had said some very improper things. Felicity had asked Aunt Agnes, Was I very improper? Did I say and do many terrible things? Her aunt had blushed to the roots of her hair, coughed, and stammered, It was only Mr. Birtwistle, Mr. McDowell, and myself who heard you. They are gentlemen and will never tell anyone.
Felicity let out a pent-up breath. Well, it was not her fault, after all. She had been forced to take more laudanum than anyone should ingest. Hopefully, Mr. McDowell would not think the less of her.
She tried to concentrate on the images in her book. But instead of seeing Chinese, she kept seeing Mr. McDowell and all the events of the previous few weeks.
She sighed again and laid the book aside. It was no use trying to study. Her heart wasn’t in it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to go to China to be a missionary, even if it was possible.
The front door opened and shut. Voices and then footsteps sounded on the stairs. Someone was here.
“Mr. Philip McDowell,” the servant announced as Mr. McDowell entered the room.
“Mr. McDowell,” Felicity acknowledged, her heart fluttering like a mad bird inside her chest. She had an irrational urge to throw her arms around him, seeing him again for the first time since he’d saved her, since he’d carried her in his arms, taking such gentle care of her. Only by his courage, strength, and cunning—and the favor and kindness of Providence—had she escaped being murdered. And when she remembered her laudanum-induced babbling, her face heated.
His eyes seemed even bluer than she remembered, with sunlight streaming in through the windows and highlighting the purple bruise on his cheekbone.
He bowed.
She did her best to remember her manners, but her heart had stopped fluttering and was now pounding so hard she wondered if he could hear it.
“Won’t you please sit down?”
They both sat, he on the sofa and she on a nearby chair.
“I was hoping I could speak with you alone, just for a moment,” Mr. McDowell said.
Her breath shallowed and her heart beat double time. How she had missed talking to him, as they had already had many private conversations.
He went on. “But first . . . I wanted to inquire after your health, Miss Mayson.”
“Oh, I am completely recovered now, thanks to you, Mr. McDowell.” Just as her cheeks had stopped burning, she felt herself blushing again.
“I am very glad to hear it. I was concerned about the effects of the laudanum Lady Blackstone gave you.”
“No lasting ill effects, thank goodness. And you? Are you recovered from your injuries?”
“I am well. No lasting effects.”
“Except for the bruise on your face. It looks painful.” How she longed to let her fingers graze lightly over the skin . . . Oh dear. She must control her thoughts.
“The bruise will disappear in time.” He smiled at her.
“Mr. McDowell, I want to apologize,” Felicity said quickly. “I know I must have said some highly improper things the night you came to rescue my aunt and me from Doverton Hall.”
“Please.” He held up a hand. “Do not apologize for anything. I realize . . . you were not yourself. I could not begin to find fault with your behavior.”
His look was so gentle and sincere.
“You are very kind, Mr. McDowell.”
“And you were very brave, Miss Mayson. I am grateful you were there. No one else could have done better at thwarting the threat to our government and the royal family.”
“Thank you for saying so.” Had she been brave? Mostly, she had simply done what she had to in order to save herself. “You were the truly brave one.”
He smiled. She hadn’t noticed before how his eyes sparkled when he smiled.
“I was only doing my duty. But Miss Mayson, there is another reason why I came today.”
“Oh?” Her pounding heart stole her breath.
“I also came here to say how sorry I am for the way I behaved toward you when we were at Doverton Hall.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that . . .” He swallowed, his throat bobbing. His cheerful demeanor was quickly replaced by an intense look in his eyes, a tension around his mouth, and a crease in his forehead. “Under normal circumstances, I never would have put your safety at a lower priority. I am ashamed I did not take you with me when I escaped, that I left you there, in danger, to do the task I came to do, which was to get all the information about the insurrectionists back to the Home Office.”
“You had no choice. Besides, you were the one who wrote down the information, risking your life to do so, and you were nearly killed trying to get it back to London.”
“But I want you to know that I am horrified at the thought that I put you in danger and left you there, that you could have been killed. I thank God with all my heart that you were not seriously harmed.” His hand was poised, clawlike, over his chest.
So many thoughts and feelings were tearing through her. He was sorry he had left her in harm’s way, but did that indicate that he had feelings for her? Wouldn’t he be sorry he had left any woman in danger, even if he felt no attachment to her?
“Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable, but I need to know you forgive me for not keeping you perfectly safe. I could not bear to go another day without telling you, without asking your forgiveness. Nothing less than my duty to my country and concern for the lives of hundreds of people would have stopped me from taking you safely back to London at the first opportunity.”
Her heart was thumping madly, but she managed to say, “You did keep me safe. You burned that first letter I wrote, which easily could have gotten me killed, and that is only one on a long list of things you did to keep me safe. And I do forgive you, though there is truly nothing to forgive. We both did what we thought best for our country.”
“Thank you, Miss Mayson.” Mr. McDowell expelled a breath, and the tension dissipated from his features, his mouth relaxing into a slight smile. “You are a great English lady, even if the history books never tell of your courageous deeds.”
“Now you are flattering me.” Felicity shook her head.
Her brother’s loud voice boomed from the stairs. He was calling to Mother, then she answered him in a much softer tone. Soon they both entered the room.
“Oh, Mr. McDowell.” Mother’s face split into a pleased smile. “I did not know we had company.”
“You have met, then?” Felicity asked, biting her lip at the way her brother was staring at Mr. McDowell with a goofy half grin.
“We met the morning he brought you and Aunt Agnes home from Doverton Hall, when he explained what had been happening there. How are you, Mr. McDowell?”
He bowed respectfully. “Very well, Mrs. Mayson.”
“Won’t you come and dine with us this evening?” she asked. “Mr. Mayson and I would dearly love to speak with you at more length and thank you for bringing our precious daughter and her aunt home. From what Felicity tells me, it was at great personal risk. Please do allow us to thank you.”
“I would be delighted to accept your offer.”
For the rest of his visit, he talked with Felicity’s mother and brother, who asked question after question about his duties as an agent for the Home Office. He actually seemed different than he had at Doverton Hall. Now a smile always seemed to be hovering on his lips, whereas before he had seemed much more sober and subdued.
When he left, he cast a wistful look at Felicity, then gave her a secretive smile before leaving and promising to come back for dinner.
When he returned for dinner, Felicity’s large family kept Mr. McDowell occupied with questions.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” her youngest brother, Gilbert, asked.
“Gilbert!” Mother scolded, her tone and look severe.
Mr. McDowell’s mouth twisted, then relaxed into a smile. “Fortunately, I have not.”
“What did you do to get that bruise on your face?” Timothy, her fourth-oldest brother, asked.
“I can answer that,” Felicity said. Everyone turned to her. “He was outnumbered twenty to one, and Lady Blackstone had a gun pointed at him.”
Her brothers all seemed to exclaim at once, asking more questions, and suddenly Felicity’s throat closed. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she remembered him lying on the floor with his shirt off and his hands behind his back, his face bleeding.
They were looking at her again, waiting for her to go on and answer their questions. She shook her head, blinking back the tears.
Mr. McDowell jumped in. “I was surrounded, the gun barrel pressed to my neck. They tied my hands behind my back, and then the largest man there—he must have been as tall as Goliath with giant hulking shoulders—pulled back his fist and . . . that’s how I got this.”
His cocky half grin enabled Felicity to let out a deep breath and the tears to dry up. He sent a concerned glance her way, such a gentle look, it tugged at her heart.
Just being in his presence, seeing his friendly smile and his easy manner with her brothers, all Felicity’s sadness that had lingered since she’d returned home seemed to flee. How wonderful that he—that they both—were alive and well.
The next day Felicity was sitting at the small desk in the sitting room, writing about her experiences at Doverton Hall. She wasn’t sure she’d ever let anyone read it, but it felt good to put her thoughts and feelings on paper. And perhaps when she was able to write out all that had happened, she would finally be able to start her treatise on society’s egregious attitudes about marriage.
She had just finished covering an entire sheet of paper with her writing and was reaching for a second one when a servant came to the doorway and announced Felicity’s friends Julia and Leorah.
Felicity stood to meet them, and she embraced them each in turn.
“Felicity, when did you arrive back in London?” Leorah cried.
“Four days ago, but I needed two days to rest.” To wake up, more like.
“You should have sent word to us,” Julia said, but not in a scolding way. It was difficult to imagine Julia scolding anyone, even her two children, once they were old enough to get into mischief.
“Now,” Leorah said, putting a hand on her hip, “you must not waste time. Tell us, what are these rumors we’re hearing?”
“What have you heard?”
“It’s in this morning’s papers that a gang of insurrectionists was meeting at Doverton Hall.” Leorah’s eyes were wide as she pinned Felicity with an intense stare.
With a little smile, Felicity said, “It is true, I’m afraid.”
Julia and Leorah stared with their mouths open.
Felicity sighed and proceeded to tell them the entire story. Her friends interjected occasionally, but mostly they listened with rapt attention.
“Felicity, you have had quite the adventure,” Julia said.
“I am impressed,” Leorah said, “that you could be so courageous, thwarting an actual revolution and the murder of hundreds, maybe thousands—the Prince Regent and my husband included!”
“Oh, I am sure your husband and Julia’s would have thwarted them if Mr. McDowell and I had not.”
“Oh no, you cannot throw off the credit that easily. You are a hero, Felicity.”
“Indeed, you are.” Julia leaned forward and squeezed Felicity’s hand. “And what of Mr. McDowell? Have you heard from him since he brought you and Miss Appleby home?”
Felicity nodded. “He called on me yesterday, and Mother invited him to dinner.”
“Were you alone with him?”
“For several minutes.”
“What did he say?” Leorah’s voice was breathless.
“He said he was sorry for leaving me in danger.”
“Oh,” Julia said. “But it sounds as though he was very interested in getting further acquainted with your mother and father. Is that not so?”
“Perhaps.”
Leorah said, “Then he will surely call on you again.”
Julia placed a hand on her heart. “It is so romantic, carrying you out of a window and down a ladder, taking care of you while you were poisoned with laudanum.” She sighed.
“Well, perhaps it would be, if . . .”
“If what?”
“If I thought he cared for me.”
“How could he not?” Leorah and Julia both exclaimed.
“I have no fortune, and neither does he.”
Both their faces fell. Yes, they had forgotten that fact.
“He did come back for you, though, did he not?” Leorah’s brows lifted.
“Yes, but perhaps that was only because his superiors told him to. They probably needed me as a witness to prosecute Lady Blackstone and the others.”
“Have they asked you to serve as a witness?”
“Not yet. But they surely will.”
“I don’t see how he could not be in love with you, Felicity.” Julia pressed a hand to her heart again. “And you know, the Prince Regent is likely to reward you both for such heroic deeds. He will surely ask to marry you. You are so generous and kindhearted, so witty, and beautiful besides. He’d be a fool—”
“Mr. Philip McDowell,” the servant announced.
All three of them jumped and turned toward the doorway.
Julia was blushing bright red, and Felicity’s own face tingled as he made his way into the room.
“Lady Withinghall and Mrs. Langdon,” Felicity said, swallowing the lump in her throat, “allow me to introduce Mr. Philip McDowell. Mr. McDowell, these are my dear friends, the Viscountess Leorah Withinghall and Mrs. Julia Langdon.”
Mr. McDowell bowed. He made his way to a chair, and then Felicity’s mother entered the room. He stood, and Mother greeted him, then they all sat and tried to think of things to say to one another. After a few minutes of inane comments about the weather and the roads that no one gave much thought to, Mr. McDowell cleared his throat and looked at Felicity.
Mother, Leorah, and Julia were watching them. But then they all three seemed to turn away and start talking quietly amongst themselves.
“I have a specific message for you, Miss Mayson.”
“Oh?”
“The Home Secretary, Lord Sidmouth, wishes you to come to his office tomorrow and give a statement about everything that happened at Doverton Hall.”
“Do they not have enough evidence against Lady Blackstone?”
“They do—we confiscated pamphlets that they had been distributing to the militia in an effort to convert them to their cause. It is more than enough to condemn Lady Blackstone and the other insurrectionists—as long as the incriminating literature can be tied to her and Ratley. However, most of their number have fled the country or are missing. They realized, of course, that they were about to be arrested and charged with treason.”
“I see.”
“But there is another reason for having you come and make a statement. I believe, for what you did to secure the list of leaders and their whereabouts, there will be a reward for you.”
“A reward?” Until Julia had mentioned it a few minutes before, it had not entered Felicity’s mind that such a thing might happen.
“You helped to save our royal family from the threat of execution, after all, though the public may never hear of your role in their salvation. The Prince Regent cares very much about his life and the lives of his family and Parliament, and he has the means and power to reward those he wishes to favor.”
“I suppose he will wish to reward you as well. After all, you did most of the work.”
“I can hope, at least.”
“Mr. McDowell,” Leorah said suddenly.
Leorah, Julia, and Mother were all looking quite bright-eyed and smiling.
“Lord Withinghall and I will be giving a ball five days hence. Will you be able to attend?”
This was the first Felicity was hearing of it. She very much suspected Leorah had only just decided to give a ball, and without consulting her husband.
“That is, the ball will be in either five or seven days. Would you be able to come either of those days?” Leorah grimaced a bit.
Felicity had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Why yes, my lady. I can come either of those evenings.” Mr. McDowell smiled. Such perfect teeth he had. Felicity had rarely seen them before yesterday. And how well formed his chin and jawline were. Even with the bruise on his face, he was the most handsome man she knew.
“And can you come tomorrow for dinner? At six o’clock?” Felicity’s mother was looking at him with raised brows.
“Yes, ma’am. I would be delighted to accept.”
This was becoming embarrassing. Did he see right through all the invitations?
Soon after, while the other three women were talking amongst themselves, Mr. McDowell asked Felicity, “Will you reserve the first two dances at the ball for me?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
A few minutes later, when he took his leave of them, he gave Felicity a particularly long look that made her stomach flip.
After her friends left, Felicity received her summons from the Home Secretary and proceeded to his office the next day. Her mother went with her. She kept looking around for Mr. McDowell but did not see him.
Felicity gave a full account of all that had happened with Lady Blackstone and Mr. Ratley in the four weeks she’d spent at Doverton Hall, sometimes blushing at the parts pertaining to Mr. Ratley and their engagement. Finally, when they had written down her entire account and were dismissing her, she asked, “Do you know what has happened to them—to Lady Blackstone and Mr. Ratley and the others?”
“It will probably be in the papers soon, but we believe Lady Blackstone and Mr. Ratley fled to France, and some of the other members of their group took a ship to America before we were able to apprehend them. But it is just as well, I imagine,” Lord Sidmouth said. “They are away from England—a very good thing—and we shall not have the awkwardness of a public trial and execution, which might excite sympathy for them and for their cause.”
“Yes, of course. I am very glad to hear they are gone.” And truthfully, she was relieved they would not be hanged, for many reasons, not least of which was so she would not feel responsible for their deaths.
In the few days leading up to Lord and Lady Withinghall’s ball, Mr. McDowell dined with Felicity’s family twice, and he came to call on her once. He was very attentive to her but also quite friendly to the rest of her family. She was never alone with him or able to have a private word, there were so many people in her house at all times.
Her brothers—the ones who were still living at home—all seemed to like Mr. McDowell. It was almost as if they had always known each other. They talked and laughed together. He even drew her father into their conversations. Everyone was cheerful when Mr. McDowell was around.
The day of the ball arrived, and even her brothers seemed interested in Felicity, looking in on her, commenting on her appearance, and asking her how she was feeling.
“Mr. McDowell told me his favorite color was blue,” Gilbert said with a smile. “Don’t you have a blue dress you could wear?”
“Be off with you and your fashion advice.” Felicity laughed and shooed him out the door.
Her mother entered her room.
“What dress will you wear tonight, my dear? I wish we had ordered you a new one just for the occasion.”
“There wasn’t time for that, Mother. Leorah only decided to give a ball five days ago.”
“Well, your blue gown is very becoming. But so is your green one. I do believe this darker blue gown is the prettiest, though. What do you think, my dear?”
Her mother calling her “my dear” brought to mind Lady Blackstone. Felicity shuddered. “Oh yes, that one is fine.”
“What time should I send Millie up to dress your hair? I think about five o’clock. And you should be sure to eat something just before we go, since I don’t want you to have a fainting spell. You know how you are.”
“I’ll be perfectly well, Mother.” Felicity laughed.
Tonight, she would dance the first two dances with Mr. McDowell. Her heart fairly soared out of her chest. Tonight, she would not worry who might reject her or look down their noses at her. She would dance and laugh at every snub she might previously have cried over. She would remember all the times she and Mr. McDowell had assisted each other, had met secretly in the library closet and talked over how they would save the royal family and the government officials of Great Britain. She would revel in Mr. McDowell’s smiles, the fact that he no longer looked serious all the time. She would hang on his every word, laugh at every amusing thing he said, and exult in every time she could make him laugh.
When Felicity and her family arrived at the Viscount Withinghall’s fashionable home that night, she glanced around at the other guests. Just as Leorah came and embraced her, Felicity caught sight of Mr. McDowell speaking with Nicholas Langdon, Leorah’s brother. They both had worked at the Home Office, she suddenly realized. No wonder they were acquainted.
“Mr. McDowell is looking very handsome this evening,” Leorah said with a twinkle in her eye.
Felicity took a deep breath, suddenly wondering where all her joy and confidence had flown to. “He always looks handsome to me,” she confided. “But let us talk of something besides him so that I don’t feel so nervous. Tell me something about you.”
“Oh well, I do have a bit of news, something I had been hoping.”
“Hoping?”
“I am expecting a baby.”
Felicity’s heart gave a lurch, and she squeezed Leorah’s arms. “I am so happy for you.”
“Yes, it had been two years, nearly—I suppose that is not an overly long time—but I had begun to worry, but now . . . We are so pleased, as you can imagine.”
Felicity glanced over and spotted Lord Withinghall, Leorah’s husband, whom she had often thought frightening and intimidating. Today, he looked relaxed and was smiling at one of their guests.
“I cannot tell you how wonderful I think that is, Leorah. You and Lord Withinghall will be such wonderful parents.” How happy they would be now, to share their love with a child. Felicity’s eyes filled with tears.
“Now, don’t you cry!” Leorah said, laughing. “You know I cannot abide tears, and I’ve actually cried myself, more than I wish to admit, the last two days since I found out. It is ridiculous.”
They both laughed rather watery laughs.
“And wouldn’t you know? Julia is pregnant again as well.” Leorah rolled her eyes. “That girl will end up with ten babies before she’s done.”
“Or thirteen.”
Leorah covered her mouth. “Forgive me, darling, I did not mean to disparage.”
“Of course not, do not worry.” Felicity laughed, but Leorah’s “darling” stirred up memories of Mr. Ratley. She forced back a shudder.
They talked a few moments longer, with Felicity trying to stop herself from glancing at Mr. McDowell. Soon, she saw him glancing her way as well. When Leorah had to leave to greet some more of her guests, Felicity started toward Mr. McDowell, but he was suddenly surrounded by three young ladies.
Felicity could not expect that women would ignore him, but it did make her heart sink. Had she allowed herself to expect too much, that Mr. McDowell would pay attention only to her? Or was this to be like so many other balls at which the eligible gentlemen would show initial interest, only to ignore her when they discovered she had no fortune?
No, Mr. McDowell already knew she had no fortune.
She took a deep breath and proceeded down the hall to the room where refreshments were being provided, passing right by Mr. McDowell, whose attention had been captured by one of the ladies addressing him.
Felicity took a cup of lemonade and sipped it. What did she care if Mr. McDowell was talking with other women? She would not think of him at all.
He appeared in the open doorway, and his gaze caught hers.
“Miss Mayson.”