Page 87 of A Dangerous Engagement

“I am happy to hear that you have such an open mind.” He smiled.

“Mr.Birtwistle, will you be staying for tea?” Lady Blackstone asked.

“Oh. No, I thank you. I should go. Thank you.”

Mr.Birtwistle stood to leave just as Aunt Agnes held out the book to him. He reached for it, but somehow it slipped out of their hands and landed on the floor, with the spine of the book facing up. Mr.Birtwistle picked it up, but when he did, the note Felicity had written fell out of it and fluttered to the floor.

Felicity’s heart stopped. She bent and reached for it, but Lady Blackstone got to it first.

Lady Blackstone snatched up the small piece of paper and examined it. Her eyes went wide, then immediately narrowed. She expelled an audible breath through parted lips. Her face began to take on a reddish hue, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

O God, help us, help us. Please let her not kill us.

“What is this? Felicity?” Lady Blackstone fixed her eyes on her.

Felicity’s head began to throb and her vision to blur. “I—I don’t know. What do you mean?”

“Mr.Birtwistle, what have these two ladies been doing? Did they have you send a message to ... someone?”

Mr.Birtwistle rose from his chair. “Send a message? Why should they do—do a thing—a thing such as that? I should be going now. Forgive me.” He practically ran to the door. “I can see myself out. Good day, Miss Appleby, Miss Mayson, Lady Blackstone.”

Lady Blackstone never took her eyes off Felicity except to glance at Aunt Agnes, who sat frozen, eyes wide, staring back at her.

How could Felicity possibly explain this? Her cheeks tingled, a burning sensation in the bridge of her nose. She didn’t need to faint now. She had to think.

“You betrayed me.” Lady Blackstone’s voice was icy. “I trusted you.”

Felicity’s stomach sank to her toes. She took deep breaths to try to get rid of the black spots dancing in front of her eyes.

“Mr.Ratley!” Lady Blackstone grabbed Felicity’s arm, her fingers sinking into her flesh.

Mr.Ratley hurried into the room.

“Your fiancée just tried to send a note through Mr.Birtwistle to a Mr.McDowell at the Home Office to tell him our plan was moved up to the twenty-sixth of April.” She squeezed harder, bruising Felicity’s arm as she turned her black eyes on her. “How many notes have you sent? What have you done? What does Mr.Birtwistle know?”

“N-n-nothing. I haven’t sent anything.” Felicity stood and tried to pull her arm free.

But Lady Blackstone held on. “Look at this note they put in Mr.Birtwistle’s book.” She held it out to Mr.Ratley.

Felicity cringed, her strength ebbing as Mr.Ratley read it aloud.

Mr.Ratley’s face was deathly pale as he stared at Felicity. “You betrayed us? You want us all to hang?”

“No, of course not.” They would surely kill her now. She had been caught, and she and Aunt Agnes would be murdered forthwith.

“How could you do it? I thought you loved me.” He stared at her, disbelief in his big, round eyes and open mouth.

The color returned to his cheeks as they transformed from pallid to inflamed. “How could you do it?” he repeated. “I demand you tell me why you want me dead.”

“Please forgive me, Oliver,” she said. “I never wanted you dead. I was frightened. For you. For what might happen to you if you went through with this. Mr.Merrick didn’t have any evidence to convict you of treason. He—he would only have made some arrests in London, and you and I could have gotten away. We can still get away, to America or France or—”

“What were you thinking? Did you think he could take better care of you than I could? He left you!”

“I know that. There was nothing between him and me. I am engaged to you.”

“You would rather marry that Merrick fellow. And now we shall all hang.” Mr.Ratley walked away from her, his shoulders sagging, and put his face in his hands.

Felicity was trembling all over now.