CHAPTER TWENTY
“I thought I heard voices in here.” Mrs. Cartwright looked askance at Felicity, and a sly smile spread over her face.
“I was just looking for a book,” Felicity said quickly.
Mr. Merrick took the book that he had tucked under his arm and held it up. “I have what I need, so I shall go. I hope you find the volume you were searching for, Miss Mayson.” He nodded at Mrs. Cartwright.
Mr. Merrick moved to leave. Mrs. Cartwright stepped aside just as Aunt Agnes rushed up to the doorway.
“I did not see you,” Aunt Agnes said breathlessly.
“Miss Appleby, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Cartwright and Aunt Agnes moved aside to let Mr. Merrick pass, which he did quickly.
“Yes, this is my aunt, Miss Agnes Appleby. Auntie, this is Mrs. Josephine Cartwright.”
Aunt Agnes said, “We were looking for books.”
“I was sitting in the back doing my knitting. There are some uncommonly comfortable chairs in the back corner of this library. Have you ever tried them, Miss Mayson?”
So that was how they had failed to see her. Felicity bit the inside of her cheek. “I haven’t. I do come to the library rather frequently to get books for Aunt Agnes, but she decided to come with me today to browse for herself. I happened to meet Mr. Merrick here as well. He was also looking for a book, but I believe he found his.”
Mrs. Cartwright smiled and nodded.
“I hope you do not think there was anything untoward about Mr. Merrick and I being in there together,” Felicity said in a low voice. “It was completely innocent—believe me—but I would be very grateful if you did not mention it to anyone.”
“Of course not.” Mrs. Cartwright waved her hand. “I understand. I would not wish to hurt your chances of marriage with Mr. Ratley.”
“Thank you.” Felicity did not know what else to say. If she weren’t so terrified that Mrs. Cartwright might tell someone what she’d seen and cause suspicion to fall on Mr. Merrick, she might have felt even more embarrassed at her friend finding her in such a compromising situation.
“Well, I believe my aunt has found her book.” Felicity indicated the book in Aunt Agnes’s hand. “We should go. Come, Auntie.”
They scuttled out of the library and up the stairs. As Felicity was just turning the knob to open her door, she heard someone clear his throat. She turned her head and saw Mr. Merrick looking at her. He was standing beside a small table that stood against the wall. On the table were a vase and other objects. He held up a key and a loose roll of papers. He put them on the table, behind the vase. Then he turned and went down the stairs, nodding as he passed them.
Felicity quickly fetched them, and she and Aunt Agnes went inside their room.
Auntie whispered, “I’m so sorry about Mrs. Cartwright. I don’t understand how she got past me.”
“It was not your fault. She must have already been in the room when we got there. I didn’t check the back corner where she says she likes to do her knitting. It is my fault. I should have searched the room when we arrived.”
Aunt Agnes placed a hand over her chest. “This is the same as a novel. My heart is racing even faster than it does when I read Mrs. Radcliffe’s stories.” Her eyes were bright and her face vibrant. “I am sorry now that I behaved so badly in the garden when we saw that dead man. I shall conduct myself better should it ever happen again. And I’m so sorry I failed you as a lookout in the library.”
“No, no, it was not your fault. You are doing very well.”
Indeed, Aunt Agnes was not plucking at her sleeves, and there was a slight smile on her lips.
Felicity went and hid the papers in her closet underneath her clothes. They only had to keep pretending for a few more days. After Mr. Merrick was able to get the papers to the Home Office, and the authorities were able to apprehend the people on the list, they would surely come and arrest Lady Blackstone and the others at Doverton Hall.
Only a few more days.
A knock came at Felicity’s door. She had been sitting at her dressing table, finishing her hair, so she stood and opened the door.
“Felicity.” Mr. Ratley was unsmiling, and he had not called her “darling” as he usually did.
“What is wrong—” She hastily added, “my darling?” though the words seemed to stick in her throat.
“I seem to have misplaced a key.”
“A key?” Her voice went up unnaturally high.
“Yes, and Lady Blackstone will be very upset with me if she discovers I have lost it. Did you happen to see me with a key, or to see where I may have mislaid it? I have searched my entire room and cannot find it anywhere.”
“It will turn up, in one of your pockets, perhaps.”
“Yes, perhaps.” He shook his head then held out his hand. “Let me escort you down to dinner.”
Felicity ate her fill but did not even taste the food. Mr. Merrick was as friendly as usual, talking with those around him but avoiding eye contact with Felicity. Meanwhile, Mrs. Cartwright seemed to laugh more than usual, and whenever Felicity caught her eye, she quickly glanced away.
Mr. Ratley was as attentive as ever, remarking on what she ate, making weak jests, and talking rather loudly with those around him.
Soon Lady Blackstone stood and summoned the ladies to retire with her to the drawing room. They all followed her out.
Felicity caught up with her just outside the drawing room. “My lady, may I be excused? I fear I may be coming down with a head cold, as I have a sore throat and a terrible headache.”
“Oh. You are not planning to meet Mr. Merrick again, I hope.” Lady Blackstone fixed Felicity with a cold stare.
She heard a squeak behind her as Mr. Cartwright raced past, slipping by them into the drawing room.
Felicity’s cheeks stung as her stomach sank. “No, of course not. Why would I meet Mr. Merrick?”
“I have heard of a certain private meeting you had with him in the library closet. Do you have any further business with this man?”
“No, of course not. It was not a private meeting at all. We were both looking at books. I hope Mrs. Cartwright did not insinuate that there was anything improper between us.” Felicity widened her eyes and let her mouth hang open.
Lady Blackstone smiled. “Do not worry. I am sure if Mr. Ratley hears of it, he will be calm and reasonable. It will not be the first time an engaged lady did something to be gossiped about.” She smiled and started to walk into the drawing room. “Are you coming in, my dear?”
“I thought I might go up to my room to rest, if it is all right with you.”
Lady Blackstone made a pout with her lips. “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. I have missed our walks. But very well.” She waved her hand. “You may go. But I insist on a nice long walk in the garden tomorrow.”
“Of course. If I am well enough.”
Felicity hurried away, her knees shaking. Oh dear. And she had not even begun the frightening part of the night.
She climbed the stairs, her hand trembling on the railing. She went into her room, remembering that Auntie was still downstairs with Lady Blackstone and the other ladies.
She grabbed the papers and the key from inside her clothes closet and hurried back out, trying to keep her footsteps as soft as possible.
She could hear the sound of voices far below but none nearby. She walked down the corridor, finally reaching Lady Blackstone’s room. The key shook in her hand as she held it up to the keyhole. O merciful God, don’t let me faint again. She slipped it in and turned it. It made a loud metallic clicking sound. She cringed and pushed open the door.
She hurried over to the drawer and took out the stack of papers. Her hands fumbled as she tried to separate the blank pages from the originals, and three of the incriminating papers slipped from her hands and tumbled to the floor.
Her heart was pounding so hard it was like a roar in her ears. She quickly fell to her knees and gathered up the papers, putting them back in their stack. Oh, dear heavens, had she put them back in the correct order? She placed the blank sheets on the floor, then replaced the original papers. Then she shut the drawer. She stooped to retrieve the blank papers.
Oh dear. Only a few more steps. Her arms were trembling so badly she clutched the blank papers to her chest to keep from dropping them.
She yanked open the door and stepped outside. She fumbled with the key and managed to lock the door. She turned to hurry back to her room.
When she came in sight of the little table and vase, she took the key and placed it where she had seen Mr. Merrick put it, behind the vase. At least no one would find it in her room or on her person.
She reached her door just as she heard someone coming up the stairs behind her. She quickly rushed inside, dashed to her bed, and lay down, shoving the blank papers under the covers with her.
A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Felicity called.
Lady Blackstone opened the door and walked in. “My dear, I wanted to come and see if you were well. Mr. Ratley wanted to come and look in on you himself, but I told him I was sorry I had not acted more concerned for you.” She made the same pout Felicity had seen her make earlier.
“I am well. I think it is only a passing headache. I get them sometimes. And my throat is a bit better as well. It is nothing, I hope.”
Lady Blackstone walked over and picked up the only lighted lamp in the room, which was on the table beside Aunt Agnes’s bed, and brought the lamp to Felicity’s bedside.
“My dear, you look quite flushed. Are you sure you’re all right?” She placed her cool hand against Felicity’s forehead, then her cheek. “I will never forgive myself if you become ill while in my care. What would your dear parents say?”
“I daresay I shall be well in the morning. A good night’s sleep always cures my headaches.”
“But, my dear, you are still wearing your clothes. Shall I help you undress?”
“Oh no. I just wanted to lie down for a few minutes first. I shall get into my nightgown soon. Aunt Agnes can help me.”
Lady Blackstone looked askance at her. “Very well. I shall leave you alone. Is there anything you need? Shall I send up a hot toddy for you? Some of my physician’s nerve medicine?”
“No, thank you. I shall be well.”
Lady Blackstone finally left, but the concerned look had been replaced by a blank expression.
Oh, thank you, dear God, that this is over. Her hand touched the papers under her covers. Was it safe to remove them and put them back in her desk? Her head truly was aching with the tension of the last few minutes. God, please don’t let Lady Blackstone suspect anything.
Finally, when she was satisfied that Lady Blackstone had gone, she threw back the covers and got out of bed, snatched the papers up, and put them back in her desk.
There. It was done. But Felicity could not stop feeling uneasy. Had she left a paper on the floor? Would Lady Blackstone notice something out of place and realize someone had been in her room?
She lay back down and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “God,” she whispered, “send Mr. Merrick safely back to London, and allow this to all be over.”
Felicity and Aunt Agnes were about to leave their room the next morning to go to breakfast when a knock sounded at the door.
“You may come in,” Felicity called.
Mr. Ratley entered and shut the door behind him. “Felicity, I need you to tell me the truth. Do you know where Lady Blackstone’s key is?”
“Lady Blackstone’s key?” Felicity felt the breath rush out of her lungs. She shook her head as if she did not understand.
“I had it a few days ago, and now I can’t find it.” He took a step closer to her and took hold of her arm. “Come for a walk with me.”
“Would you not rather break your fast first?”
He stared at the floor. Finally, he looked her in the eye again. “Very well. Let us go now, if you are ready.”
“Auntie, are you ready?”
Aunt Agnes nodded and mumbled something indecipherable.
The three of them went down to the breakfast room where a few others were up early enough to partake. They ate rather quickly, as none of them seemed to have much appetite, and Mr. Ratley turned to Aunt Agnes.
“Please excuse us, Miss Appleby, but I wish to take Miss Mayson to the garden for a walk. You don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Aunt Agnes said, but she was looking questioningly at Felicity.
“We will not be terribly long, I think,” Felicity reassured her. But she was far from feeling her own reassurance.
She took Mr. Ratley’s arm and walked with him out into the garden.
The sky was completely overcast with heavy white clouds. Not a spot of blue was visible, and the air was quite cool, too cool for her light muslin dress, thin spencer, and flimsy bonnet. She did not complain, however, as they walked along until they were enclosed on two sides by hedges taller than they were. Mr. Ratley stopped and turned to face her.
“Forgive me for saying this, but Lady Blackstone thinks you may have stolen the key to her room.”
Felicity tried to laugh. “Why would I do that?”
Mr. Ratley put a hand on the back of his neck and scowled. “She thinks you don’t agree with our cause, that you are still loyal to the present government.”
“But I am here, aren’t I? Would I still want to marry you if I did not agree with the cause of revolution and reform?”
“You don’t agree wholeheartedly. You practically said so yourself. And Lady Blackstone thinks you may have convinced one of the men to think the way you do, to turn against us.”
Felicity folded her arms across her chest. “This is terribly unfair. Steal a key? Turn other people against you? Does that sound like something I would do?” But her stomach felt sick, as if she might lose the breakfast she had just eaten. God, help me pretend I know nothing.
Mr. Ratley removed his hand from the back of his neck, huffed, and took Felicity’s hand. “I admit it does not. But Lady Blackstone . . . She does not take opposition lightly. And she is obsessed with finding who may have stolen that key.”
“But it is probably only lost.” Felicity allowed herself to smile. “Surely everyone here is very loyal to both Lady Blackstone and the cause. I am sure she will understand if you just tell her you lost the key.”
He closed his eyes, his face crestfallen. “She means so much to me. And now she is so angry.” He opened his eyes, suddenly looking Felicity directly in the eye, then glancing away. “She and I became very close after . . . We met after her husband died and I inherited my father’s estate. I had been away at school for so long, and I knew nothing about how to run a business or a household. I hardly remembered my mother, she died so young. My father sent me away to school when I was only six years old, so I had been alone for a long time. Lady Blackstone, she . . . she was concerned for me. She was so helpful and gave me such good advice. She knows so much about everything. We would talk for hours about politics. She’d had such a sad life, so many hard things when she was a child . . . I would do anything for her, and I simply cannot bear to disappoint her.”
Something about the passionate way he spoke of his attachment to Lady Blackstone made Felicity shudder inwardly. It was suddenly very obvious that Mr. Ratley had decided to marry her based solely on what Lady Blackstone had said to him. Was Felicity so desperate to marry, so desperate to feel loved, that she would engage herself to a man who neither knew her nor understood her? A man she neither knew nor understood? She’d imagined she saw love in a man who was so broken he was incapable of being a mature husband to her.
As someone who believed in God’s Providence, shouldn’t she have checked her impulsiveness long enough to pray and ask God to show her if this man was right for her? She did not have to make such an important decision in the same moment he asked her.
Obviously, Mr. Ratley had been so desperate to have a family, to have someone to lean on after being alone and losing his father, that he had allowed himself to be completely controlled and manipulated by Lady Blackstone, a woman old enough to be his mother, but who had many ulterior motives. No doubt she had seen him as a means to an end, a person who would do her bidding, and especially someone who would use his wealth to fund her revolution.
Felicity felt sorry for Mr. Ratley. But the thought of marrying him was as abhorrent as ever. If only she had told him no . . . but then she would not have been able to help Mr. Merrick.
“Do not worry,” Felicity said. “Let us think about where you might have lost the key.”
“If we do not find it, Lady Blackstone has threatened to search everyone’s rooms.”
Felicity’s throat went dry. Mr. Merrick had copies of those incriminating papers in his room, hidden somewhere, and if Lady Blackstone were to find them . . . they would kill him.
Felicity swallowed down her panic and took a deep breath.
“Let us think. Where did you have the key last?”
“I think it must have been when I went into her room a few nights ago. You were with me. I locked the door, and then we . . . well, we kissed in the corridor. I don’t recall seeing the key after that.”
“Then let us go up to the corridor outside Lady Blackstone’s room and look for it. Come.” She took his arm and tugged gently.
“We can try, I suppose.”
They went back into the house and immediately encountered Lady Blackstone and Mr. Merrick in conversation, standing at the bottom of the staircase.
As they passed near, they heard Lady Blackstone ask Mr. Merrick, “Do you have designs on Miss Mayson?”