Page 65 of A Game of Scandal

After she’d gone, closing the door behind her, I sprang towards the trunk, opening it. On top of the clothes neatly arranged inside was a note.

Thought you might need these. A

There were three gowns that were prettily made in fine fabrics, as well as undergarments and nightclothes. It was an incredibly inappropriate gift for a young woman to receive from a man. I didn’t want to think too much about how Ash had managed to arrange the delivery of gowns and underwear that were a near-perfect fit within the span of a couple of hours of arriving in Cambridge. Did he have a dressmaker on retainer? And he seemed to have a startling familiarity with my measurements. That thought brought heat to my cheeks.

I changed quickly into a gown of navy-blue silk. It was cut in the modern way, with a skirt so light and narrow that my movements felt utterly unrestricted. It was high at the neck, with long sleeves, carefully covering all the bruises, which had stopped hurting too much, but which still made a gruesome picture.

At the washstand, I splashed water on my face and pulled my hair into a long braid, tying it with Ruth’s blue ribbon. Although I planned on sending her more than one replacement, I knew that I’d keep this one, that it would always remind me of the adventure I found myself on now. With a final glance at the mirror, which reflected a face quite different to the pale, frightened one of earlier, I ran from the room, keen to join the dinner party.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

I was sitting across the breakfast table from Laetitia early the next morning, when Smythe announced Ash’s arrival. I looked up in surprise from the newspaper to find the man in question standing there, looking quite as rumpled and disreputable as ever.

I hadn’t expected him to be an early riser, but then there was every chance he hadn’t been to sleep. I was so glad to see him that the feeling leaped up inside me – a quicksilver flash like a salmon jumping out of a stream – and I tried to tamp it down.

Ash eyed the scene with a sort of amused fondness that I couldn’t understand. Laetitia and I were simply sitting across from one another in silence, both concentrating on our own reading as we drank coffee and ate toast spread with thick jam the colour of garnets. It was the perfect way to start the day, as far as I was concerned.

“I’m afraid it’s bad news,” Ash said from the doorway.

He was forced to step into the room when Smythe appeared behind him with another coffee cup. Smythe set the cup and saucer on the table with a doleful glare, and Ash laughed, taking the seat and accepting the hot drink without comment, which I knew from the mischievous sparkle in his eye was a great concession.

“What bad news?” I asked, my mind flying to Laing and the Aviary.

“Oh, no – not that,” Ash assured me, with a glance at Laetitia, who sipped her coffee with a bland look. She seemed to have chosen to adopt a “don’t ask, don’t tell” position on the matter of my sudden appearance in her life. “Although in some ways it might be worse. My parents caught wind of our arrival together yesterday. I couldn’t think how to explain… I had to protect your reputation, so I told them you were here visiting Laetitia – that you’re considering a course of study in Cambridge and that I simply drove you up as I was on my way.”

“That seems a sensible plan,” Laetitia said serenely, and I warmed even more to this tough, clever woman.

“Yes, but” – Ash placed his cup carefully back in the saucer; he seemed to be avoiding meeting my eye – “they want you to come to the house for dinner tonight. They know all about you, Felicity – they know your mother, apparently. They see my interest in you as a sign I’m taking my responsibilities seriously. That I intend to … settle down.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Whatever there was between Ash and myself, it was nothing to do with the rigid system of etiquette and rules that governed me at home.

“I am considered a good catch,” I said, the words mechanical, and colour washed Ash’s cheeks. I could only imagine what his parents had said to him.

“I see no problem.” Laetitia broke through the tension with her calm tone. “It’s perfectly possible for a man to show interest in a woman only to have his suit rejected further down the line. Let Freddie’s parents believe he’s trying to win you over. It will keep them happy, and they can’t force the two of you down the aisle, after all. I can come to dinner as Felicity’s chaperone, so there will be no impropriety.” Her eyes moved between the two of us. “Unless there is another problem I don’t know of?”

“No,” I said as evenly as possible. “That’s a most practical solution.”

Ash cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’ll let my parents know. I thought perhaps I could take Felicity for a tour of the city this morning?”

“You do understand I am not actually her chaperone?” Laetitia said dryly, shaking out her newspaper. “Felicity is a sensible young woman, more than capable of making her own decisions. You’ll find the rules in a university town are a lot less rigid than they are under the eyes of London society.”

“I’d be happy to,” I said, smothering the laughter that rose up at Laetitia putting Ash so smartly in his place. I thought I had a glimpse of the dynamic between the two of them when they were teacher and student.

“The weather is nice; we can go punting on the river,” Ash said.

“Ah, you are to show off your nautical prowess?” I raised my eyebrows.

Ash smirked. “I hardly think it will test anyone’s sea legs, but it’s a pleasant way to spend a morning, and an excellent way to see the city.”

“The morning post has arrived,” Smythe intoned, shuffling into the room with a silver tray trembling precariously in his hand.

Laetitia accepted the neat stack of letters.

“There’s something here for you, Felicity,” she said, replacing the envelope on the tray so that Smythe could bring it round to me. “I must go and see to my correspondence. I’ll be in my study should you need me.” She strode off, every line of her full of purpose. I wanted quite desperately to grow up to be her.

“It’s from Mrs Finch,” I said to Ash, recognizing the seal on the back of the envelope as I tore into the letter.

“Dear Felicity,” I read aloud.