Page 16 of A Dangerous Engagement

He let her go and raised both arms high in the air to wave at Lady Blackstone and Aunt Agnes.

Was this the right time to discuss when he would speak to her father and when the wedding should take place? She rather imagined when she became engaged that her fiancé would kiss her or at least embrace her. But that was foolish. They were in a public place.

Lady Blackstone and Aunt Agnes were walking back toward them now. Mr.Ratley put his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. He bent and kissed her with wet, limp lips.

Was this how a kiss felt? All slobbery and awkward?

Then he set her on her feet again.

Her cheeks burned at the thought that Lady Blackstone and Auntie had seen him kiss her, her very first kiss, which she had not realized would feel so ... unromantic. But one could not expect perfection when he had—she hoped—never kissed anyone before.

When the two ladies reached them, Mr.Ratley announced, “We are engaged.”

“Truly, I wish you both the best of everything life has to offer.” Lady Blackstone’s smile stretched from one ear to the other. “I could not be happier if you were my own children. That is, if one of you were.” They all laughed.

Aunt Agnes was plucking at her sleeves. “Yes, very happy.”

They continued walking down the beach, her hand on Mr.Ratley’s arm. Felicity could hardly pay attention to the beauty of the ocean. Had she done the right thing? How could she say no to him when he had that vulnerable look on his face? Besides, he must love her to ask her to marry him. But truly, what did she know of him, of his beliefs and his wishes and his thoughts on important things such as faith in God, how many children they should have, and ... There must be a great many important subjects they had never discussed.

They wandered along the seaside, watching the birds and the waves as they got their shoes soiled and sandy. Mr.Ratley kept his hand on hers. Would he be a kind and affectionate husband? He gave every indication that he would be. Surely her life would be pleasant and comfortable married to this man.

On the way back to Doverton Hall, no opportunity to speak privately presented itself, of course, since Lady Blackstone and Aunt Agnes were with them in the carriage. If only she could speak with him, he would surely dispel this uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Philip noticed a restlessness in the men while their leader was away sightseeing at the seaside. They drank far too much brandy. But by dinner Lady Blackstone had returned with the others, and the guests’ drinking slowed to normal.

The dinner seemed especially fine and fancy tonight as their hostess managed to get everyone’s attention, a broad smile on her face.

“I have an announcement to make. Or perhaps I should allow our dear Mr.Ratley to make the announcement.”

She looked down at the young man, and he stood. He made a show of clearing his throat.

“Dear friends, I would like you all to share in my joy, as Miss Felicity Mayson has agreed to become my wife. We are engaged to be married.”

There were a few cries, then cheers, as the room erupted in exclamations.

Felicity Mayson was smiling, but in her eyes he read an emotion that had nothing to do with joy. But perhaps he was imagining that she was putting on a brave face, pretending to be happy.

After dinner was over and the men joined the ladies, Mr.Cartwright came over to him.

“Perhaps now we can speak more freely about our revolution.”

“Now?”

“I forgot that you were not here the first day.” He glanced behind him. “Lady Blackstone and Mr.Ratley asked us to behave as if we were at a normal house party and not mention anything about our activities and plans in front of the ladies, particularly Miss Felicity Mayson and her aunt.”

“But why?”

“I suppose it was because the ladies did not know our true purpose for being here. Or perhaps Lady Blackstone was not sure we could trust them. Either way, if Ratley has asked her to marry him, it must mean that they consider them safe.”

Philip became aware of two men, Sproles and Rowell, arguing. Both had had too much to drink, and their voices rose as they drew closer to each other.

“I should be in charge of the weapons,” Sproles yelled in Rowell’s face.

Philip’s whole body tensed as he calculated how to place his body between the two men and the ladies, who, unfortunately, were not sitting in one location.

“You?” Rowell shouted. “You don’t even know the meaning of loyalty to our cause. You would turn your back on us all if the Crown offered to pay your gaming debts.”

Sproles roared and throttled Rowell, and they fell on the floor in a heap of flailing arms and legs.