“I won’t say anything,” he assured, more out of cynicism than cooperation. He knew Poppy, Olivia, and Penelope meant well, but they had their hands full preparing for their own celebrations and for those of their staffs and the citizens of Wellesford. He expected they would visit Felicity after Christmas, perhaps once the servants returned from their own family celebrations.
“How are you holding up, Angus? You didn’t get any sleep last night and won’t be of much use to Felicity if you’re dead on your feet.”
“I’m fine.”
Adam shook his head. “You are stubborn, and that isn’t at all the same thing. Go home. Wash up. Rest a while. I’ll watch over her.”
“Leave you alone with her?”
“I’m the vicar. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust? Besides,” he said, frowning lightly, “you’re going to leave soon. So, don’t make yourself too indispensable to her if you’re going to abandon her once the week is out.”
His friend was right, but that didn’t stop him from being angry and unreasonably possessive. Yet, what right did he have? He’d be no better than Lady Plimpton if he took himself off and left her behind. He would come back for her; he’d make her that promise. But Felicity would never take him at his word. She had no reason to trust him.
Everyone had excuses at the ready for disappointing her, hiding the truth from her. She responded with such joy and gratitude for the smallest crumbs thrown her way. Truly, he couldn’t bear it. “I’m not going to leave her behind.”
“What?”
“If she’ll have me, I’ll marry her first and take her with me. I can put off my departure until after the new year. Perhaps longer. As long as it takes for her to heal.” He didn’t really have to leave immediately; it was nothing more than a plan. Plans could always be changed.
After all, he hadn’t been home in over a decade.
A few more days would not matter.
He would still be the new Duke of Appin whether he returned home tomorrow or in a year…or never.
He marched into Felicity’s bedchamber. He must have been stomping loud enough to wake her, for her eyes were open when he reached her side. “Oh, Angus.” She cast him the sweetest, hopeful smile. “I must have drifted off to sleep again. I’m so sorry. I love the sound of your voice, it’s so soothingly deep and resonant.”
“Felicity, there’s something…” Her eyes were wide, and her gaze was more loving and gentle than he deserved.
“What is it, Angus?”
“Something I’ve been wanting to do the moment I set eyes on you.” He lifted her into his arms with exquisite care and then bent his head to hers, kissing her on the mouth. He kissed her deeply, keeping his lips planted on her soft, plump lips. While he had to be gentle because of her injuries, he hoped to convey the depth and intensity of his love.
He ought to have drawn away instead of prolonging the kiss.
But he wanted her to understand that he was not going to draw away from her ever again.
His tongue teased along the seam of her mouth, tasting her sweetness and the trace of tea on her lips. “Felicity Billings, I am not leaving you.”
He kissed her again with exquisite care.
After settling her carefully back against her pillows, he rose. “Would you care for anything before I stretch out by the hearth and grab a nap?”
She gazed at him for the longest time, seemingly confused and obviously trying to make sense of what had just happened. After what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a moment, she chuckled. “Yes, another kiss.”
Chapter Six
Today was Christmas Eve day and Felicity resolved that she was going to be merry even though she was about to miss the Sherbourne party. The citizens of Wellesford had begun to stir. She could hear their footsteps crunching in the snow outside her window as they hurried to run the last of their errands.
Angus had drawn her drapes aside as the sun began to sink on the horizon. From her bed, she could just make out the pinks and lavenders of the particularly beautiful sunset that marked the end of another cold, crisp winter’s day.
“Angus, you really ought to go to the party. Take the vicar with you. I’m feeling much better and can manage on my own this evening.”
“No.”
She sighed in exasperation. “You cannot offend the Earl of Welles and his family. They’ll be expecting you to dine with them at Sherbourne. It is unpardonably rude of you not to attend after accepting their invitation.”
Angus cast her another stubborn look. Honestly, he gave new meaning to the expression ‘stubborn Scot.’
“I will not leave you alone in your condition, so don’t think to push me out the door. They won’t miss me at all. But you will.”
She laughed. “Are you that confident? What if I were to tell you that I find you quite irritating?”
He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I wouldn’t believe you. It’s obvious you adore me and are itching to get your hands on my body. The feeling is mutual.” “Angus!”
“Don’t chide me for saying such things. I should have said them years ago.”
The change in him ought to have delighted her. Well, it did very much. But it also frightened her as never before. The years had taught her to protect herself, build up those walls of stone around her heart so it wouldn’t break as people she cared for moved on with their lives and forgot about her.
The vicar had said a surprise was coming yesterday, but nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He had led her to believe her friends would come by to visit. She’d waited. But neither Poppy, Penelope, nor Olivia had come. Nor had any of them sent word.
She tried to pretend their silence didn’t hurt.
But her heart was breaking. Those three had pierced the thick walls she’d built around herself, smashed them wide open with their kindness and friendship. She should have known better. She wasn’t a beloved sister to them.
How could she, a simple bookshop owner, ever be more?
Angus’s insistence on remaining by her side was only making matters worse. He looked at her as though he cherished her. Not for an hour or a day but for a lifetime.
I’m not leaving you he’d said to her.
Which meant he had been planning to do exactly that. He was going to leave Wellesford, and he was going to do it soon. She’d overheard him and the vicar whispering about it. So why build up her hopes?
Those protective walls she’d built around herself were now battered and shattered. She couldn’t bare it if he kicked down those last, lingering stones.
She loved him, but did not dare admit it to him.
“Felicity, you’re frowning again. Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”
My heart.
“I am in the pink.”
“You are a dreadful liar.”
But he wasn’t. He was very good at it, hiding his love for her, and now suddenly showing her how much he cared. Which was the truth, and which was the lie? He was very convincing at both. So were her friends. Why hadn’t they come by yesterday? Not even a word. She would have taken any crumb they’d bothered to toss her way and been cheered by it.