“As grateful as I am to you for helping me out in this way, father, I have to admit that bringing my parent along while I ride off to rescue the heroine does not strike me as being the most romantic of choices.”
“I often told you that it would be in your best interest to be more than merely competent at driving,” sighed his father. “But would you listen to me?”
“I confess that you were correct on this matter.”
“And what about the rest of it?”
Felix rolled his eyes before he could help it. “Look, I know you disapprove of my running the publishing house and dirtying my hands with trade, but I like my work.”
His father tore his eyes away from the road for just a moment, favouring Felix with a look of pure astonishment.
“I have never disapproved of the press! I’m inordinately proud of everything you’ve achieved!”
Felix stared at his father in blinking disbelief. “You asked me why I wasn’t content to live off your largesse!”
“In regard to your dress,” came the reply as though it were perfectly self-evident. “I might be proud of your business, my dear boy, but when you insist on literally dirtying your hands as part of the job what am I to do? Lord, when you turned up to your mother’s dinner party with ink stains on your cuffs and fingers! Ink stains! As independent as you may wish to be, I cannot accept you dressing beneath your station. Would it be such a hardship to employ an actual skilled printer to work the press for you? Preferably one who would not waste your ink upon his own flesh and clothing?”
Felix shook his head. “I thought you meant that you wanted me to live like a profligate younger boy. You were quite upset about Vincent setting out on his own, too.”
“I was happy at your older brother’s intention of entering politics but upset that he decided to be a diplomat since he now spends most of his life in Vienna. Your mother would never dream of saying to any of you that she would prefer to keep you close, but with her health the way it is…” he trailed off.
“With her health the way it is she cannot travel abroad, and she misses Vincent terribly as a result,” finished Felix.
“Good grief, you didn’t think that I wanted you and your siblings hanging from my purse-strings, did you?” said his father, sounding appalled by the suggestion. “I’m happy for Godwin to keep all the useless wastrels for his line of the family rather than polluting ours, thank you very much.”
Felix laughed before he could help himself. “I have sometimes wondered if Ambrose would have better suited you as a son that I do.”
“What a ridiculous thing to say,” replied his father with an amiable smile. “I have the best children in the entire world. I have often felt sorry for Godwin since it must pain him to know that my offspring are so vastly superior to his. By the by, Lord Delby shares that opinion.”
“Did you speak to him about me?”
“Of course I did, although he’d already decided you would make an excellent husband for his niece. So much so, in fact, that I believe he had already written to her parents about the matter.”
Felix felt his cheeks heat. “I am not convinced she has forgiven me.”
“Nonsense. I heard a rumour that she thinks you are a pirate king, by which flight of utterly ridiculous fancy I am strongly convinced the girl is madly in love with you.” He paused for a moment, cocking his head to one side. “That, or she is hare-brained. Not that it matters for you are something of an eccentric yourself, so will no doubt rub along well together.”
“It warms my heart to learn that you have such faith in my intellectual faculties,” replied Felix.
His father looked pointedly at his wrists. “One cannot claim to be in possession of superior wit and intelligence when one attends a dinner party with ink-stained hands.”
Felix glanced at his gloved hands. “I’m fairly certain all the ink is gone.”
“It is, I checked,” said his father. “I was not about to let you attend the Gathering and declare your love for Miss Manning with dirty fingernails.”
“So you do not mind if I declare myself?”
“Honestly, boy, I’m starting to think that you are queer in the attic. Miss Manning seems a charming girl from a good family. Did you see the cut of their clothing? A little austere for my tastes, and not the finest of quality, but excellent tailoring that speaks to a good eye and a sense of fashion. However – and I mean this in perfect sincerity – even if they had proven to be shabby-gentile mushrooms I would have welcomed any girl who made you happy with open arms.”
“Thank you,” said Felix, not trusting himself to say anything else.
His father smiled. “Besides, I think she will fit in well with Bath society, and be a hit with the local bluestockings.”
“I hope so,” said Felix, meaning every word. “Do you think we are far behind them?”
“With this carriage, I’d be surprised if we didn’t overtake them soon,” said his father. “Little Abby grew up to have capital taste! I don’t think I’ve ever driven something so perfect!”
“Yes, but what are we to do once we catch up with Miss Manning and Ambrose? We can hardly squeeze all of us into this thing!”
“We shall cross that bridge when we come to it,” replied his father, not showing the least amount of concern. “Let’s just keep our eyes out for that chaise.”
They were less than an hour outside of London, his father driving at a cracking pace the entire journey, when Felix spotted a chaise-and-pair pulled up outside of a small posting house, the postillion leant against the side of the carriage as he enjoyed a smoke.
“You there!” he called out as his father pulled the horses to a standstill. “Are you in the employ of my cousin, Lord Ambrose?”
He flipped a shilling down to the man, who caught it mid-air.
“I might be,” he conceded.
Felix flipped him another shilling, despite his father’s protest.
“I have received some bad news from his family, and must speak with him before he travels any further.”
The postillion smirked. “Terrible news to do with that girl, is it? Never believed for a second she was his sister. They’re inside somewhere.”
As the ostlers hurried over to take control of the horses, Felix jumped down from the High-perch without waiting for his father. He ran through the doorway of the inn and careered straight into his cousin’s valet.
“Where is he?” he growled, grabbing the man roughly by the cravat and hoisting him clear off the ground.
The valet spluttered incoherently before gesticulating wildly toward the back parlour. Felix dropped him like a bag of dirt before rushing into the room.
And stopped dead in the doorway.
Ambrose, his beautiful coat and waistcoat discarded on the floor, lounged in only his shirt and inexpressibles on a small sofa. His shirt was bloodstained along his left side, although it did not appear to be troubling him. His eyes were closed, and in one hand he cradled a large tankard of beer.
Miss Manning sat in a small chair beside him, chattering away as though she had not a care in the world.
“-although I am still not sure if Moldovia even has Counts, come to think of it. I suppose he could be a prince if it came to it. Anyway, then the heroine will realise that there is something amiss when she hears wailing late at night, but everyone tries to tell her it is only the wind. Of course, it is actually the- oh! Mr Drake!”
She jumped to her feet, looking both surprised and flustered to see him.
“My darling, are you well? Has he hurt you?” said Felix as he entered the room, unable to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head in relief.
“I’m fine,” she said with a surprisingly cheerful tone. “Did you know I managed to rescue myself? At least I would have, only you’ve arrived before we set off, which I admit makes things much more comfortable for now I don’t have to explain to the Ton why I was outside with Lord Ambrose when footpads attacked him.”
“Footpads attacked him?” he repeated, utterly lost. He looked over at his cousin, his eyes narrowing with disgust. “You are in luck, Ambrose, if you have indeed been attacked by some ruffians, for it prevents me from milling you down in the way you deserve for your infamy.”
“Infamy! Ha!” said Ambrose, waving the tankard around until some of the contents sloshed onto the floor. “Shan’t ever live this down if it gets out!”
Felix blinked. “Trix my darling – is Ambrose drunk?”
“It seemed like the only way to stop him wailing,” she replied. “Should I not have given him so much ale? His man seemed to think it would be better than laudanum, which was my suggestion – only I didn’t have any laudanum with me anyway.”
“She’s mad,” said Ambrose, lying back on the sofa and closing his eyes.
Felix, unsure whether to plant his cousin a facer regardless or just burst out laughing, drew Trix over to the dining table and bid her sit down.
“You need to tell me everything, my dear.”
*
Felix still cradled her hands in his.
A storm of emotions whirled about her mind. Relief at his arrival, worry that he would think poorly of her. The pain of his betrayal by releasing her name to the papers, embarrassment at the memory of their kiss.
An overwhelming desire to kiss him once again.
“It’s not a particularly interesting story,” she admitted with a glance over at Lord Ambrose. “I would have plotted it out much better.”
Lord Ambrose muttered something under his breath that she doubted was complimentary. She turned her back ever so slightly so that her full focus was on Felix.
“You have just been kidnapped, my darling, I’m sure the story is as riveting as any you have written yourself.”
She smiled at the compliment, but before she could begin to tell her tale, there was a polite cough from the door. She turned to see an exquisitely dressed gentleman whose resemblance to Felix was uncanny.
“I see something dramatic occurred in the last hour,” he said with a look at Lord Ambrose that strongly suggested he was happy with the outcome. “Having just received a very garbled account of what happened from my nephew’s now-unemployed valet, I am agog to learn the true version of events.”
Good manners caused Trix to stand up, but she glanced at Felix as she waited for the introduction.
“My dear Miss Manning, may I present my father, Lord Philip Drake?”
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” she replied as she performed a perfect curtsey. It was difficult not to launch into a thousand questions, but somehow she managed to keep her tongue under control.
Lord Philip smiled in such a kindly way that she was immediately disposed to like him. “And I am very pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Manning, and I trust that this will be the first meeting of a great many between us. Now, would you mind letting both my son and I know everything that has happened since my reprobate nephew tried to carry you off?”
“In his defence, he never intended to kidnap me,” said Trix as she settled back into her seat, “for his target was my cousin Cordelia.”
It took about ten minutes to recount the full story of the abduction, and while Felix squeezed her hand tightly when he learned Ambrose had not intended to flee all the way to Gretna with her, Lord Philip laughed out loud at her pretence of travel sickness and exclaimed her to be a remarkably clever girl.
“Luckily I only grazed him with the poker, but Lord Ambrose has a great aversion to blood, and fainted dead away. I told the Landlord that it was all an accident – that it was I who had fainted, and when Lord Ambrose tried to catch me he must have fallen awkwardly against the poker – but I’m not sure he believed me.”
Lord Philip’s mouth kicked up at the side. “It must have been a very unfortunate placement of the poker.”
She sighed. “It appears that I am not very good at making up stories in the moment, you see. I much prefer to plot them out thoroughly.”
“I think you did marvellously under the circumstances,” said Lord Philip.
His nephew gave a snort of derision, but before Trix was able to respond, Felix was on his feet and looming large over Lord Ambrose.
“You should be damned glad that she stabbed you,” Felix growled, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Had she not, I would take you out back and beat you like the dog that you are for kidnapping her.”
“That was never my intention!” whined Lord Ambrose, sinking lower into the sofa upholstery. He dropped his tankard, the remains of his ale splashing onto the carpet.
“Whether you intended to kidnap Miss Manning or Lady Cordelia is irrelevant. You are without honour, Ambrose, and it is only to protect the reputation of those ladies that I will not denounce you as the cad that you are.”
“You could still hit him,” said Lord Philip helpfully.
Trix giggled before she could help it, and Felix suddenly smiled.
“Well, my dear? Should I hit him?”
“I’ve already bested him with a poker, and I’d prefer to put this whole horrible mess behind me if you please.”
“Even though it was Ambrose, and not my son, who told the papers you were the author of The London House?” said Lord Philip, before flicking open his snuff box and taking a pinch.
Trix gasped. “Why would you turn me such a wicked trick?”
Lord Ambrose looked like a sulky schoolboy caught out in a prank. “I thought it was a good thing at the time.”
She stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head in disgust. “You are not worth a tenth of your cousin.”
Lord Philip snapped closed his snuff box. “That settles it, then. Felix, you should take Miss Manning back to London immediately and restore her to her family. You can take it a little slower than I drove; Abby’s horses are sweet goers but not too hard to manage. Whatever you do, do not overturn the carriage! It will quite ruin the ending to this little adventure.”
Felix raised a single eyebrow, and Trix giggled again.
“And what do you intend to do, father?”
“My plan is to load your cousin back into that chaise out there and proceed to Bath. I have no desire to journey to Cumberland, and no wish to let him out of my sight until he convinces me that he has seen the error of his ways.”
“Bath?” repeated Lord Ambrose, sounding appalled at the prospect.
“It is considerably more de rigueur than Carlisle,” replied Lord Philip. He turned his back on his nephew to smile at Trix. “Go with Felix, my dear girl. We shall meet again very soon, I think, and I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“I look forward to that,” she replied, and paused only to give the older man an impulsive kiss on the cheek.
Felix was all solicitude as he handed her up into Lady Gloucester’s high-perch phaeton, even going so far as to tuck a thick blanket about her shoulders since she had only a shawl to fend off the cool weather. They set off at a pace somewhat slower than a high-perch phaeton was usually driven at, but she found it impossible to care. So many of her dreams had involved tooling about in a fashionable carriage with Felix that she had no option but to revel in the moment.
Trix ruthlessly suppressed the part of her brain that began to weave a new story about the heroine being carried off by her Pirate King, instead risking a few shy glances at Felix’s handsome profile.
“I’m sorry all this happened,” he said eventually.
“I’m not in the least,” she replied with a laugh.
He seemed surprised at her response. “After everything this last month has thrown at you, everything that has happened since we first met, you do not regret a minute of it?”
“Not one, for I would not have had such an interesting adventure, I would not have learned to be a better writer, but most of all, I would not have met you. That would never do.”
His laugh was both gentle and tender. “You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met, Beatrix Manning.”
“You’re rather wonderful yourself,” she replied shyly.
Without warning, Felix guided the horses to the side of the road and brought them to a halt. He rested the reins on his knee before turning to her, once again capturing her hands in his.
“Trix, I know I’m only a publisher and not half as talented as you, nor as wealthy as you deserve, and with no chance of inheriting a title. As little as I understand love, romance and any of those things, I know that I cannot imagine a future without you in it.”
“I feel the same,” she murmured back. “Love isn’t at all like it is in the stories, is it? It isn’t all thunderbolts and daring rescues and evil Moldavian counts locking up heroines in castles.”
“I happen to think that bringing my father along for the drive was a very daring rescue,” replied Felix, making her laugh.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admitted.
He leant forward and rested her forehead against hers.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, either. I think I’m quite thoroughly in love with you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, and was very much gratified by the long kiss that rewarded her declaration.
Eventually, he pulled away from her with a rueful smile.
“As much as I should like to keep declaring my love for you, my darling, I think it is for the best that I get you back safely to your family.”
“Yes, they must be very worried,” she said, tucking her shawl back around her shoulders. “Felix… would you mind terribly if I wrote to my parents about you?”
“There’s no need for that,” he said in a surprisingly cheerful manner.
She frowned.
“Don’t you want to meet them? To make our courtship formal?”
Felix glanced down at her with an odd smile. “I want that more than you can imagine, my dear. However, a lot has happened in the few hours we’ve been away, and there is a considerable surprise waiting for you when we return.”
“Oh! Will I like it?”
He laughed. “I am sure of it – but my lips are sealed.”
“I’m not convinced I like surprises,” said Trix, thinking over the past few weeks. “The last few have involved my being kidnapped by accident, and my book being published without my consent.”
Felix leant over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise that this surprise will wrap up all of your stories into a nice neat ending, my darling.”
She blushed. “And result in a Happily Ever After for us, do you think?”
He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“My word as a gentleman, Beatrix Manning. Our story shall finish with a Happily Ever After.”
Happily Ever After