Chapter Seventeen
Felicity spent the morning of Christmas Eve at the church of St. David’s, serving as a bridesmaid in Tressa’s wedding to Matthew Kent. As it was the first wedding she’d ever attended, she viewed the ceremony as a learning experience, keeping mental notes of the things she most assuredly did not want at her own wedding. That helped her to overcome the anxiety of standing up in front of the village for Tressa—that, and the reminder Nicholas had given her before they’d left for the wedding.
“Most people will be looking at Tressa, not you,” he’d said. “But if you start to feel nervous, look out at me, and know that I am there with you.”
His words, combined with the quick yet passionate kiss he’d given her in the carriage outside of St. David’s, made her feel unstoppable.
Once the ceremony began, she’d forgotten to be apprehensive. In the face of all of Tressa’s dreams for love coming true, she could not think of anything else but how joyful she was for her dear friend. She’d always thought Matthew Kent was a rogue, but today, as she listened to them bicker during their exchange of vows, she surmised that perhaps Tressa had needed a rogue all along.
As she learned in the last week, the principle of opposites attracting did not just apply to chemistry, but to her relationships with people as well. She had not unlocked the secrets of the Philosopher’s Stone, but she had still achieved a great transformation.
She was Felicity Fields, last of her line, loser of the battle against Death, but winner of so much, much more. She was in both mourning and love—two states she’d never thought could occur simultaneously. Tomorrow, she’d spend time trying to categorize these emotions further, but for now, she simply acknowledged that her feelings existed.
As she rode in the carriage back to Tetbery, she reconsidered her list. She neither wanted hordes of villagers attending, nor did she want to be married at a church, like Tressa. She’d like to be married at Tetbery—perhaps by the Reverend Teague, since she found him the least objectionable of religious officials.
Of course, the mere fact that she was considering her own wedding was a shock. She’d always thought she’d end up a spinster. Yet, as the wedding started, Felicity had looked out in the audience for Nicholas, and she’d felt a now familiar tug at her heart.
Slowly, surely, she was beginning to see a future. It would be a future without Margaret—perhaps she’d always mourn that fact—but it would be happy.
Because as Tressa had said, she deserved happiness.
She pulled out her watch as the carriage descended the long drive to the house, checking the time. Nicholas had gone with his friends to Castle Keyvnor, for he was supposed to attend the Hambly sisters’ wedding. She had not been invited, and for that she breathed a sigh of relief. Now that she knew she wouldn’t be leaving Tetbery permanently, she wanted to clean up her laboratory and say a final goodbye to Margaret before she was placed into the crypt with Randall. While she still thought Nicholas was being overly sentimental, she had to admit it did bring her comfort to know Margaret’s body wouldn’t be alone.
It was not the fate she had wanted for Margaret, but it was something.
The carriage came to a stop. The driver pulled open the door and helped her down, and she headed for the front door. Tolsworth met her there, which was unusual, because she’d long ago told him he didn’t need to wait for her.
“I think you will enjoy this, Miss Fields,” he said, a wide smile stretching across his wizened face.
What an odd thing to say. She eyed him quizzically. “Yes, I should hope I’d enjoy my own home.”
He opened the door wide, gesturing for her to enter. She did, and suddenly she knew exactly why he thought she’d be pleased.
The grand hall was completely transformed. Evergreen garlands with giant red bows trimmed the white banisters of the spiral staircase, as well as the railings for the second story. Red and white hothouse flowers adorned every surface, while a large holly wreath was placed on the door to the sitting room. Every painting in the hall had been trimmed with greenery.
It was perfect. Tetbery looked just as Margaret would have wanted it to on Christmas Eve.
She had no time to reflect on the bitter sweetness of it all, because there was Nicholas, coming out from the atrium at the end of the hall. When he saw her, he sprinted toward her, his smile so wide it seemed to go ear to ear. She waited for him, her gaze darting from one corner to the next, marveling at the beautiful decorations.
“Happy Christmas, Lissie.” Nicholas pulled her into his arms, embracing her.
She rested her head against his chest, breathing in his leather and sandalwood scent, overlaid with the crisp evergreen. “Happy Christmas, Nicholas.”
“So you like it?” He pulled back from her, gesturing to the staircase.
“I love it. Before Margaret died, I never really thought about how festive the decorations were—I thought they were impractical, and I couldn’t bring myself to decorate without her.” She plucked a hothouse flower off the nearest table, running her finger over the petals. “But seeing the hall decorated again, I think I understand why she loved Christmas so much. I do feel hopeful, like anything is possible.”
“Then my work here is done.” He took the flower from her, and tucked it behind her ear gently.
“You’re supposed to be at the wedding,” she said. “When did you have time to do all this?”
“I sent a message to Blackwater with my regrets, telling him I had a lady to impress.” Nicholas winked at her, and a welcome warmth flooded through her.
Perhaps she’d needed a rogue too, and now she had one.
“I rode back while you were still talking to the wedding guests,” he continued. “With the help of Tolsworth, Mrs. Mitchell, Mrs. Manning, and the maids, I was able to get all the decorations up.”
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She loved all of it—and she loved him.
“One last thing.” Tolsworth came up behind them, a sprig of mistletoe in his hand. He held it up, above their heads.
Felicity looked up at the mistletoe. “I believe we have to kiss now.”
Nicholas leaned in, his lips twisting into that smirk she’d grown so used to over the years. They kissed, and Felicity thought she’d never heard a rule she loved so much before. When in a moment they stopped, both out of breath and lips rosy, Nicholas placed an arm around her.
“Did you want to go to the castle and see your friend?” she asked.
“No,” Nicholas said. “Right here, with you, I am finally where I am supposed to be.”