“I do not need rescuing.” Tilting her chin, Felicity glared up at Felix. The Runner grinned down at her, a handsome rogue with golden eyes, wavy hair several shades lighter than her own, and a devilish grin that had no doubt been the downfall of more than one respectable lady. He had the leanly muscled body of a thoroughbred, but the gleam of sly cunning in those warm amber eyes was all fox.

Pesky creatures, foxes.

They were beautiful to look at when they were trotting across an open field, but no one wanted to find a fox in their henhouse.

Nor in their rented flat, Felicity thought silently.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Spencer?” Of all the people that could have showed up on her doorstep, he was the one she least wanted to see.

Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss he had stolen from her. Or the small, insignificant, not-even-worth-mentioning fact that she had kissed him back.

It may have only been for a few seconds, but those few seconds had been playing in her mind on an endless loop for the past eight months. It certainly hadn’t helped matters that she’d seen him again at Scarlett and Owen’s wedding. He hadn’t kissed her, but the arresting way he’d stared at her across the room had been far more intimate than any swift brush of the lips.

Rather like he was looking at her right now.

His possessive gaze made her feel hot and breathless, as if it were the middle of summer instead of the beginning of spring and she was stuck in a parlor without any open windows. She started to fan a hand in front of her face, caught herself, and swiftly tucked her arms behind her back instead, fingers knotting tightly together. “I do not recall requiring the services of a Runner.”

“I’m here off the books, such as it were.” Kneeling, Felix picked up the knife she’d dropped. Weak morning sunlight reflected off the small silver blade as he tossed it from one hand to the other. “What were you going to do with this sewing needle? Pare an apple?”

“It is perfectly sharp, thank you very much, and I would like it back.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself with it.”

“I am going to hurt you if you do not leave this very minute.” Felicity blinked, taken aback at her own words. She was not a confrontational person. In fact, she couldn’t recall a single time where she’d ever stood up to anyone, let alone threatened them with violence. When Ezra had informed her he was beginning divorce proceedings she hadn’t even raised her voice. Which, in hindsight, was something she very much regretted. If only she could go back to that morning…

The day Ezra told her they would be divorcing had begun as any other. She had gotten dressed in her bedchamber listening to the happy chatter of her children in the nursery across the hall. As soon as her green muslin dress was buttoned and her dark hair was swept up in a tidy chignon she went right into the nursery, just like she always did.

Henry was too busy building one of his beloved wooden towers to even glance up in her direction when she walked in, but Anne’s face lit up like the sweetest of candles when she saw her mother. With a squeal of delight she toddled across the sun washed room as fast as her little legs could carry her.

“Mama! Here you are! I found you,” she trilled excitedly. “Up, up, up!”

Felicity scooped her daughter up into her arms and nuzzled her sweet cheeks as she carried her over to Henry so they could both admire his tower.

“And what is it we are building today?” she asked, moving Anne to her hip.

“A fort.” His mouth puckered in studious concentration, Henry carefully stacked his blocks around six tin soldiers. “The French are invading again.”

“Not again,” she said gravely. “Best secure your defenses and draw the bridge up quickly.”

Henry tilted his head back. “I am, Mum. They won’t get my soldiers this time!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Setting Anne down, she leaned forward, sweeping back his soft golden curls so she could press her lips to his forehead. “Keep at it, darling. You’re doing a marvelous job. The French have no idea what they are up against.” Her attention switched to Darcy who was throwing toys into a bin. “I was thinking a walk through the park this afternoon if it does not rain. Can you see to it the children are ready and dressed at half past eleven?”

“But o’course, me lady.” The nanny’s heavy Irish brogue rolled pleasantly off her tongue. She sat back on her heels. “Will his lordship be accompanying us?”

“If he is not too busy with his other obligations, I am certain Lord Ashburn would love nothing more than to join his family.” Her bright smile did not fool Darcy in the least, but then it wasn’t for her. Henry and Anne were still blissfully unaware of how disinterested their father was in them and she fully intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. “I will be certain to ask him at breakfast. Speaking of which, I should leave. Ezra does not like it when I dawdle. Be good for Nanny,” she instructed the children. “I will see you soon.”

“Bye Mum,” Henry said distractedly.

Anne waved both hands in the air. “Bye!” she called cheerfully. “Bye, bye!”

Ezra was already waiting for her in the dining room. He was standing beside his chair at the head of the table, one hand resting on top of it while the other was held stiffly behind his back. He looked annoyed, but as his perpetual expression was always one of annoyance Felicity thought nothing of it.

There were times that she wished her husband possessed a better sense of humor – or any sense, for that matter – but she’d known who he was when she agreed to marry him, hadn’t she? And aside from a few threads of gray in his hair he had not changed in the past eight years.

But she was beginning to fear she had.

“You are three minutes late,” he remarked when she entered the room and took her seat at the far end of the table. She’d always thought it a bit foolish to sit so far apart when it was only the two of them, but Ezra was nothing if not a stickler for propriety.

“I was with the children. Henry is building yet another fort. It’s the French this time, I am afraid. They are attacking full bore.”

“How fascinating,” Ezra said in such a way that suggested he did not find it fascinating at all.  

“Yes. Quite.” Dropping her gaze to the table so she wouldn’t have to see how tedious Ezra found it to discuss their children, she busied her hands with straightening her already straight silverware. “It appears as though Anne grew another two inches overnight. She will need new shoes soon, as well as a few dresses. I thought tomorrow I would take her to Madame Dilliard’s if you wanted to do something with Henry.” 

“No.”

“Come now Ezra,” she coaxed, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “Henry has been talking for weeks how he would like to try sailing his pond yacht. Heaven knows I haven’t the faintest idea how to do it, but you–”

“You misunderstand,” her husband said flatly. “No, I am not going to spend another second of my time with that boy and no, you will not be purchasing Anne so much as a single stocking. Unless you are prepared to do so with your own money which I find rather doubtful as you haven’t any.” 

Felicity’s smile froze. “I am terribly sorry. What did you say?”

Without another word Ezra pulled out his chair and sat down. Unfolding his napkin, he took his time spreading it over his lap before he met her stunned gaze across the ridiculously long table and said, “I see no point in repeating myself. It is obvious you heard me or you would not be looking at me like that. We are getting a divorce and I am disowning the children.”

He spoke so calmly, so normally, that several seconds passed before the enormity of what he’d said managed to sink in. When it did – when she realized what he was proposing – Felicity jumped out of her chair as though it had suddenly caught fire.

“You – you cannot be serious,” she sputtered.

Ezra merely lifted a brow. “Have you ever known me not to be serious?”

“But I am your wife. And they – they are your children.”

“Well at least one of them is,” he said coldly. “Although even that remains in question.”

Felicity stumbled back as though she’d been dealt a physical blow. The ground shifted beneath her feet, forcing her to grab the back of her chair or risk falling to her knees. “You said we would never have to discuss it again,” she whispered. “You said it was over. You said–”

“I know what I said.” He no longer looked annoyed. He looked vaguely pitying, which was a thousand times worse. “However, I regret to say I have fallen in love with someone else. Someone who is far more suitable.”

“Far more suitable than the woman you are already married to?” Felicity gripped the chair so hard her knuckles were leeched of all color. “Ezra, please–”

“I find this discussion distasteful. I do not want a divorce any more than you. The scandal it will cause…” His mouth curled. “Unfortunately, you have left me with no other choice.”

“I’ve left–”

“Enough.” The word reverberated around the dining room like a gunshot. “I am going to Parliament this afternoon to petition for a divorce. There will be a short trial, which you will be required to attend.”

“On what grounds?” she said softly, more to herself than to him.

“Speak up. You know I detest it when you mutter.”

“I asked on what grounds.” She lifted her chin. “On what grounds could you possibly be requesting a divorce?” 

Ezra’s stare was as cold and unflinching as the act he was committing. “Adultery, Felicity. You will brought up on charges of adultery.”   

 

To this very day Felicity hated herself for making it so easy for Ezra. Even in the midst of the trial when she had been forced to sit before a roomful of men she did not know and listen to her character being torn asunder she had been a dutiful wife.

She had not argued. She had not cried. She had not even whispered so much as a word of protest. And what had her good behavior gotten her? What had being a dutiful wife gotten her?

A reputation destroyed by scandal and a dirty two room flat in a square of London she never would have dared walk through before the divorce, let alone dreamed of living.

The cold, cruel irony of it filled her with both anger and bewilderment. All of her life she had followed the rules and minded her manners and always, always behaved as a well-bred lady should. Where had she gone wrong? What else could she have done? Why had all of these bad things happened to her, of all people? It simply wasn’t fair…but then life rarely was. Hadn’t she learned that difficult lesson seven years ago while trapped in a bedroom with a man who was not her husband? A man with Henry’s blond hair and green eyes…

“Where are the little nippers?” Felix’s gaze swept the small room and Felicity immediately stiffened.

“My children are none of your concern.”

“Relax, love. I’m not in the habit of harming babies. Or beautiful women, for that matter.”

His wolfish grin made her teeth clench. “Your flattery falls on deaf ears, Mr. Spencer.”

“Ah,” he said softly as he stepped towards her with the coiled grace of an alley cat, “but would a kiss fall on deaf lips?”

“Stay back,” she warned even as part of her yearned for him to do the exact opposite. Heaven help her, but she wanted to feel the weight of his hands on her body and know the taste of his lips on her mouth. She also wanted him to turn around and walk out the door and never come back. The conflicting feelings warred within her as the air between them grew heavy and thick. Anticipation hummed like a finely plucked bow string, sending waves of delicious tension coursing down her spine.

She flinched when Felix reached out, but did not draw away. A rather curious reaction as she had always retreated, in some way or another, whenever Ezra touched her. But that was something to be considered when her breath was once again her own and her blood was not roaring in her ears and her heart was not racing fast as a hummingbird’s wing.

“What – what are you doing?” she asked warily when the rough pad of his thumb traced the delicate line of her collarbone. He had the hands of a working man, the skin calloused and sun kissed. As a lady she should have been repulsed, but as a woman she found herself hopelessly, helplessly intrigued. Felix was the embodiment of everything she had been taught to avoid. But there was something tantalizingly forbidden about desiring what she shouldn’t.

“Seeing if you feel as soft as I remember.” His husky whisper sent ribbons of heat slithering down into her belly. Those warm golden eyes held her captive as his hand followed the natural curves of her body, fingers brushing over linen and lace before sinking into her hip and drawing her close.

She sucked in a breath when she felt his hard thigh against her own.

Closed her eyes when his head lowered…

“Who are you and what are you doing to my mother?”

Felicity jumped back as if she’d been scalded by boiling water when the bedroom door suddenly swung open to reveal a suspicious looking Henry with his arms folded tightly across his chest and a curious Anne peering out from behind his back.

The children!

Her cheeks went pale even as guilt and shame heated the nape of her neck and burned the tips of her ears. How could she have forgotten about them, even for one single second? What would she have said if they’d caught her and Felix kissing? How would she have explained? They were too young to understand. Heavens, she was nearly five and twenty and even she didn’t understand.

It is all his fault, she decided with a glare at Felix. He never should have come here, let alone tried to seduce her! What was he thinking? Better yet, what was she thinking? Yes, Felix was charming and yes, one glance at him and her knees trembled, but he was a man and if there was anything she knew with absolute certainty it was that men could not be trusted. 

Oh, they were all charming at first. Especially the handsome ones. But once they had what they wanted or they saw something they wanted more off they went, heedless of the broken hearts they left in their wake. They did not care about the harm they caused or the lives they ruined. They thought only of themselves, and Felix was no different.

Why, with that devilish smirk and those golden eyes that had the uncanny ability to stare straight into a woman’s soul he was by far the worst of the lot! And she had been one heartbeat away from kissing him.

Again.

Foolish woman, she chided herself. Have you learned nothing?

“Henry darling, this is Mr. Spencer.” She glanced at Felix out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction to her children. Ezra had always treated Henry and Anne with bafflingly cold indifference. Had it been up to him he would have left their raising entirely to the nanny which was something she’d never understood. Why have children if not to love them and hold them and kiss their sweet brows? “Mr. Spencer is a Runner, just like Aunt Scarlett’s husband. Isn’t that right, Mr. Spencer?” 

“Mr. Spencer is a Runner?” Henry’s eyes widened as his suspicion quickly turned to excitement. Like most young boys his age he positively idolized the Bow Street Runners. Both Scarlett and Owen had invited her to bring the children by for a tour of headquarters, but not wanting to inadvertently run into Felix again, she had declined. 

A great deal of good that did me, she thought silently.

“Aye, that I am,” Felix said with an easy grin. Much to Felicity’s surprise he crouched down to Henry’s level and spoke to him not as if he were an unimportant child, but an equal. “Except I’m much better at catching criminals than Captain Steel.”

“You catch criminals?”

“That I do. The worst of the worst. Murderers and thieves and – other sorts,” he said when Felicity frowned and shook her head.

“Yes, Mr. Spencer captures criminals,” she said. “In fact, he was just on his way to capture one now. Weren’t you, Mr. Spencer?” Her meaningful glance at the door could not have been clearer. But instead of taking her thinly veiled hint that he had overstayed his welcome – not that he’d ever been welcome in the first place – Felix stuck his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers and rocked back on his heels as if he had all the time in the world.

“Actually,” he drawled with one of those insufferable grins that made her teeth clench and her heart flutter, “I’ve already caught all the criminals there are to catch for the day. I’ve nowhere to be except right where I am. Where are you three off to on this fine afternoon?”

Felicity had always thought of persistence as a virtue, but in Felix’s case it was a considerable annoyance. “That is none of your–”

“Pawk!” Anne stepped out from behind her brother and flashed Felix one of her sweetest smiles. “Howsies at the pawk.”

“She means we are going to see the horses at the park,” Henry translated.

“Ah.” Felix gave a serious nod. “My father used to take me to do the exact same thing when I was a boy.”

“How nice of him.” Felicity’s strained smile fell far short of her eyes. “Mr. Spencer, I would not want us to be a burden. You really should–” She was stopped short when Anne came dashing across the room and pulled at her skirts. 

“Up, Momma. Up!”

“As I was saying,” she continued, lifting Anne up and settling her on the edge of her hip, “You really should return to–”

“You come!” Twisting in her mother’s arms, Anne grinned adoringly at Felix. “You come to the pawk.”

“Oh no darling, Mr. Spencer is so busy he could not possibly–”

“I’d love to, lass.”

Between Felix and my children, Felicity thought crossly, I am never going to finish another sentence as long as I live. Her lips parted, ready to tell Felix once and for all that he really needed to be on his way, but one inadvertent glance at Henry and her mouth snapped shut.

For the first time since they’d returned to London her son looked genuinely happy. He and Anne had been through so much over the past six months. If a walk through Hyde Park with a Bow Street Runner put a smile on their faces then she supposed she could abide Felix’s company for a little while longer.

“Very well. It is settled. We will all go together.” Her children did not notice the subtle rigidity in her voice but Felix did, and she could tell by the gleam in his eye that her discomfort amused him.

She set Anne back down before she lifted her head and made a point to meet his gaze without flinching. If he thought to charm her into submission with a few disarming smiles he would quickly come to learn that despite her diminutive stature she was not a woman easily cowed.

She had been once. Not so very long ago all it had taken was one of Ezra’s long, measured stares to set her in her place. But after he’d taken everything from her there was to take – her home, her reputation, even her title – she’d sworn to herself that she would never again give any man the power to control her. And unlike her husband, when Felicity made a vow she kept it.

“Shall we?” she said, pointing at the door.

Felix opened it with a showy sweep of his arm. “After you my lady,” he told Anne who giggled and toddled past him, her tiny hand firmly encased in Henry’s larger one. Felix glanced back over his shoulder, one side of his mouth curving in a half-smile. “Miss Atwood?”

“Mr. Spencer,” she replied formally as she sailed past him.

His quiet chuckle followed her out the door.