Page 54 of A Dangerous Engagement

O God, please don’t let this escalate any further.Why did Mr.Ratley not put a stop to this? Instead, he wore a ridiculous smile.

“Oh, my Miss Mayson is the loveliest of women. She is the apple of my eye ... my comfort ... the mother of my future children.”

Everyone roared with laughter. Felicity could not even lift her eyes from her lap. How humiliating to see and hear her fiancé unable to come up with anything he loved about her besides her physical appearance and usefulness to himself. Thanks be to God that she did not intend to actually marry him, that she was not trusting in Mr.Oliver Ratley to love her for the rest of her life. How could she have ever pledged herself to a man so shallow that he did not value her mind or her heart?

The men who had just been guffawing at Mr.Ratley’s words now took a few steps toward her.

Philip gritted his teeth as he stared at the man who was humiliating his fiancée and himself and was too doltish to even realize it.

Could the blockhead not think of anything else to love about Miss Mayson? Philip was sickened. Was he too blind to see that she was clever, kind, and intelligent? That she was gentle and always found the good in others? Did he not see that behind that quiet voice was a steely conviction, a courage to always do what was right?

The man was a vile caricature, an utter failure at appreciating this glorious woman, not to mention that he did not even see how he was humiliating her in front of these rough men. Philip’s blood boiled.

When a few of the men got up, focused on Miss Mayson, and stepped toward her, Philip rose from his chair.

“That is enough,” he shouted, his hands clenched into fists. “You are embarrassing the lady.”

Everyone stared at him as his heart pounded with the same intensity he longed to apply with his fists to their faces.

He went on in an even tone, forcing a calm he did not feel. “There is no need to throw decency to the winds in this undignified manner.”

“Mr.Merrick is right,” Lady Blackstone said in a hard tone of voice. “Ladies, let us adjourn to the parlor. And if the men can control their bawdiness, they may join us later.”

Philip suddenly remembered. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten his plan for the evening. “Lady Blackstone, if I may ...”

She stopped and turned steely eyes on him.

“Please excuse me and allow me to go to my room. I ... after the news I have received about my mother, I feel I should write some letters to my family and—”

“Yes, of course, Mr.Merrick. You are excused.” She turned and left, leading the other ladies with her.

He couldn’t help glancing at Miss Mayson. He caught her eye, but only for a moment. Her cheeks still blushed red. She looked away and followed the other ladies out. Philip left with them, then went up to his room.

He took off his blue coat and replaced it with the black one that had Lady Blackstone’s room key sewn into the lining. He grabbed a stack of blank papers off his desk and carefully placed them inside his waistcoat, then hurried back out his door.

In the corridor, he pressed himself against the wall and listened. He looked to the right and to the left. No one seemed to be around. He walked slowly and carefully toward the wing of the house where Lady Blackstone’s room was located while ripping out the stitching in the coat lining one stitch at a time until he was able to extricate the key.

He paused in front of her door, inserted the key, and went inside, shutting the door behind him.

He quickly went to the drawer where the papers were located. He opened it and found them just where they had been before. He took them out and replaced them with the blank pages from inside his waistcoat—laying the first page of Lady Blackstone’s papers on top—and stuffed the rest inside his waistcoat.

He looked all around, trying to spot anything he might have left out of place. Satisfied, he moved to the door, listened carefully, opened it, listened again, then slipped out. He locked it back with the key, then hurried back to his own room.

Inside, he went to his trunk and lifted it off the floor, tilting it onto its lid. On the bottom was a tiny latch. He turned it to reveal a compartment large enough for the papers and the key. He put them inside, closed and latched it, and put it back down on the floor.

He then moved as quietly as possible back out of his room, down the stairs, and out the door to the nighttime garden, all without encountering anyone, praise be to God.

Silently, he crept toward the building that housed the printing press.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Felicity’s stomach turned as she and the other ladies retired to the drawing room. But how relieved she had been when Mr.Merrick had raised his voice and halted the humiliating debacle. Tears rose behind her eyes as she recalled how he had stood up for her, but she blinked them away.

It doesn’t matter.Why did she care? She wouldn’t marry Mr.Ratley, but it still stung. She had thought him disinterested because he did not care that she did not possess a fortune, but that did not necessarily mean that he liked her for herself. As it turned out, he only cared about her beauty and her childbearing capabilities. And it made her cheeks sting all over again that she could have been so fooled as to think him worthy of her love, admiration, and hand in marriage.

But she could not dwell on that now. She had to stuff it down, down with the humiliation of everyone laughing at her buffoonish fiancé trying to come up with compliments for her—and failing miserably.

The few ladies in the room had paired up and were talking amongst themselves. Lady Blackstone seemed distracted. She even got up and looked out the window, then went back to her seat.