Page 5 of A Dangerous Engagement

“Dear Mr.Ratley,” Lady Blackstone said, “you have shocked our poor Felicity—I can see it on her face. And well she might be shocked, for thegentlemenshe’s accustomed to meeting care only for a lady’s fortune. Is it not so? But I shall not press you about the matter, my dear. No, no, we shall not dwell on unpleasant subjects. We shall be merry and leave sad things behind for a month or so.”

They all agreed that was a good plan, but Felicity continued to feel unsettled, though not unpleasantly so, as they explored Doverton Hall’s gardens with the handsome Mr.Ratley.

While Felicity was dressing her hair for dinner, a knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Lady Blackstone entered the room and closed the door behind her. “You are looking so lovely. No wonder Mr.Ratley was so smitten with you.”

“Smitten?”

“He could not take his eyes off you. I cannot blame him.”

“He did seem inclined to think well of me, though I cannot think why. He has never met me nor any of my family, and I informed him of my lack of fortune.”

Perhaps she was beingtoohonest. But she rather prided herself on her honesty, and her friend Leorah had encouraged it. That lady’s courage was too great to worry about the consequences of speaking her mind.

“Have men often reacted unfavorably after they learned of your lack of fortune?”

“Very often. Once a man said, in my hearing, that he would not dance with me because I was the daughter of a merchant and had no dowry. And sometimes a gentleman will dance and flirt with me at a ball or party, and then the next time I see him, he will ignore me and pretend not to know me. People often say that women are mercenary and only want the wealthiest man they can acquire, but I believe it is the men who are the mercenaries. Rather than wishing to marry for love, or to cherish and care for the woman of their choice, they wish to be financially cared for by the woman. That is not chivalrous, nor is it biblical.”

“And do you think British society discourages such ungentlemanlike behavior?”

“Indeed, society does not discourage it. It practically demands it.”

“You are so right, my dear. The rich care only for the rich. I am glad you think as I do.” Lady Blackstone’s eyes were wide and glittering. “I did not misjudge you. I knew you were a spirited young woman with a mind of her own who does not allow society to dictate her beliefs. Given half a chance, you would fight such an unfair system as we have in this country—the elite classes dictating to everyone else, never allowing the poor their equal part in government and in life.”

Felicity stared. What did Lady Blackstone mean? Fight the unfair system? Perhaps she had been too strident in her opinions.

“But this is a party. You are young. You want to enjoy yourself.” Lady Blackstone’s smile was back in its usual place. “I have arranged for you to sit with Mr.Ratley at dinner. He will entertain you quite satisfactorily, and your dear Aunt Appleby will be seated nearby.” She caressed Felicity’s cheek in a most familiar way.

Why did the woman treat her as if she was a long-lost favorite relative? They’d seldom been in each other’s company, and Lady Blackstone and Felicity’s uncle had no children. The baron she married shortly thereafter died a year ago, leaving her once again a childless widow.

Lady Blackstone chatted a bit longer before going to greet the guests who would be arriving before dinner, leaving Felicity to wonder at her hostess’s strange words. Could Lady Blackstone be a reformer? Or a suffragist, perhaps? Felicity might almost think her capable of being a member of one of those oath-taking societies that were illegal, and that, from time to time, had been brought to light and summarily squashed by Parliament and the Home Office. Some members had even been hanged for plotting treason.

But, no, Lady Blackstone could not be part of anything so frightening.

CHAPTER TWO

Philip McDowell glanced around at his parents and all three of his brothers gathered around the breakfast table—a rare occurrence. His mother was smiling, and his father was frowning.

“So, you’re finally going to fight in the war against Napoleon?” his oldest brother, Damian, asked Philip, taking a sip of tea and following it with a bite of bread.

“Not exactly.”

“Leave him alone, Damian,” Nathan, his clergyman brother, said. “He’s probably spying on some evil frame-breakers union or a bunch of lawless men bent on burning mills in Manchester. He can’t tell us where he’s going or he’d have to kill us.”

“That’s right,” Thomas, his second-oldest brother, added. “But don’t mock him. If he gets a commendation from the Prince Regent, we’ll all be shown up.”

“Well, I am very proud of Philip,” his mother said. “He’s been serving our country in the Home Office, and whatever they ask him to do, I’m sure he will do the job very well indeed.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“When are you getting promoted?” his father demanded. “I haven’t heard anything about a promotion for more than a year. What do you do in the Home Office anyway?”

“Whatever I was doing, Father, I’ll be doing something else for the next several weeks. I only told you so you will not worry if you cannot reach me. And I will probably not be able to write to any of you.”

Philip wished he had not told them anything. Let them find out when it was all over. But his mother did not deserve to have her letters unanswered without an explanation.