Page 55 of A Dangerous Engagement

“Felicity.” Lady Blackstone turned to her, startling her out of her reverie. “I hope you are not upset at what happened at dinner. Mr.Ratley is not especially good with words or compliments. It does not mean he doesn’t wish to marry you as much as any man might wish to.”

“Oh, I never assign any worth to compliments.” Felicity tried for a light and airy laugh, but it came out sounding hollow.

Lady Blackstone patted her hand. “Mr.Ratley adores you, and he is a good man. You two shall be very happy.”

Ishallbe very happy as soon as I leave this place.

“Lady Blackstone.” A man appeared in the doorway, a stranger to Felicity. “The delivery has arrived.”

Her hostess stood quickly. “Ladies, I regret I must part from you early this evening. And I will borrow your husbands for a little while. Our task may take a couple of hours.”

The ladies all expressed their regrets, but briefly, as it was evident that Lady Blackstone was eager to go.

The other ladies began talking together. As they were all ignoring her, Felicity slipped out without excusing herself.

Lady Blackstone was talking in a low voice in the corridor with three men.

“... take the weapons to the grotto ... With all the men helping, it should only take a couple of hours.”

Felicity’s heart crashed against her chest. Mr.Merrick! If they were all outside, they might see him as he came out of the shed after damaging the printing press.

“Tell all the men to change their clothes if they do not wish to get them dirty and meet us in ten minutes at the head of the trail that leads to the grotto.”

Felicity ducked inside the nearest room—a small sitting room. She held her breath as Lady Blackstone walked past.

She waited only a few seconds, then headed for the back door.

With her white dress, she was like a lantern walking in the moonlight, but there had been no time to go to her room and change. Her heart thundered as she glanced around, seeing no one, and ran to the shed where the printing press was stored. She tried the door. It wasn’t locked. She hurried inside.

It was dark and smelled of ink. She waited for her eyes to grow accustomed, and she saw a hulking shape, like a large machine. “Is anyone here?” she whispered loudly.

No answer.

“Mr.Merrick?”

The door opened. She gasped as a dark figured rushed in, then closed the door behind him. He turned to face her and put a finger over his lips.

She took a step back, and her foot hit something hard and round. She flailed her arms as she began to fall, and the man grabbed her and pulled her toward him.

She found herself pressed against Mr.Merrick’s chest.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered gruffly, his lips next to her ear.

She froze, her forearms trapped between them. He had one arm around her, holding her up, as she still didn’t have her footing. One foot rested on something like a log or a heavy metal cylinder.

Then she heard male voices outside the little shed. They grew louder, along with the sounds of a carriage or wagon being pulled by horses.

Mr.Merrick’s chest rose and fell with hard breaths, which soon slowed to normal. Pressed so close to him, her cheeks heated for the second time that night.

“Are they coming here?” she whispered softly.

No, no. She remembered. “It’s a delivery of weapons. I heard Lady Blackstone say”—she paused to listen—“that they were taking them to the grotto.”

He gave a small nod to let her know he’d heard her.

The voices continued, some close, some farther away. Felicity thought she heard Lady Blackstone’s voice amidst those of the men’s. And Mr.Merrick continued to stand perfectly still, his arm around her like an iron band.

Finally, the voices grew fainter and then ceased to be heard altogether.