The Convenient Felstone Marriage. Jenni Fletcher
suddenly, pointing to the headline. ‘“Felstone’s of Whitby awarded new naval contract.” I knew I recognised your name from somewhere! Are you connected to the shipbuilding family, sir?’
‘I am that family, I’m afraid. All there is of it anyway.’
‘So you’re on your way to Whitby?’
‘Eventually, though I’m staying in Pickering for a few days. There’s to be a public gala and private ball celebrating the official opening of the new railway line tomorrow. I’d be happy to add your names to the invitation list if you wish?’
‘I don’t travel with a ball gown, sir.’ Miss Holt sounded distinctly unimpressed.
‘Well, I’d be delighted.’ The youth threw her an icy look. ‘I’m afraid my sister prefers books to dancing these days. I expect she’d rather visit the castle.’
‘Indeed?’ An image of Sir Charles flashed into Robert’s mind. ‘You like old things, then?’
Doe eyes flashed back. ‘I enjoy history, Mr Felstone. I don’t enjoy being mocked.’
‘I’m quite serious, I assure you, Miss Holt. I’m rarely anything but.’
She made a scornful sound. ‘I find that hard to believe from a man whose manner can change so completely. Just now, for example, I had the impression that you were angry and yet here we all are, the best of friends.’
‘Make enquiries in the town about me if you wish.’
‘You overestimate my interest, sir.’
‘Ianthe!’ The brother’s mouth dropped open. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘With me?’ She swung towards him, two crimson spots appearing high up on her cheekbones. ‘You’re the one who can’t keep his thoughts to himself! This is all your fault.’
‘My fault? I apologise, Mr Felstone, I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I’m sure she meant no offence.’
‘I’m sure she did not.’ Robert waved his apology away as the train gave a final burst of steam and shuddered to a halt.
‘And I’m sure I did!’
She stood up abruptly, grabbing a carpet bag from the rail above her head and swinging it in front of her like a shield. ‘Good day, Mr Felstone. I doubt our paths will meet again. Our stay is of only a very short duration and our diary is fully engaged.’
‘Ah.’ Robert bent his head in acknowledgement. She could hardly have made her answer any clearer. ‘In that case I wish you well. Whatever you decide.’
She didn’t reply, flinging open the compartment door and storming furiously away.
‘I say...’ The brother jumped down after her, turning at the last moment with a look of apology. ‘Sorry about that. Women, you know. But if you’re serious about the ball, I’d be very grateful.’
Robert nodded absently, a faint smile playing around his lips as he watched her grey dress disappear into the crowd. Common sense told him he ought to feel relieved by her refusal. He knew almost nothing about her, and hadn’t the brother mentioned some impropriety? Still, it was hard to imagine anything too shocking about her, nothing scandalous for certain. And there was definitely something about her, something that grabbed and held his attention. He wasn’t sure—couldn’t even imagine—what it was, but it made him reluctant to concede defeat so easily. She was... He strove for the right word... Interesting.
He picked up his top hat and suitcase and stepped down from the carriage. The platform was crowded, heaving with passengers and luggage, the walls and metal-beamed ceiling decorated with banners for the approaching gala. He made his way steadily through the throng, nodding to various acquaintances without stopping to speak, his mind preoccupied with the image of a woman in a grey dress.
‘Ah, Felstone, you’re here at last!’ A cheerful-looking man with a shock of unruly blond hair accosted him the moment he stepped into the station office. ‘Come and read this speech, will you?’
Robert smiled and put down his case, leaning against a desk as he scanned quickly through a sheath of papers. ‘It’s good, Giles. Just don’t forget to thank us all for our patience.’
‘Too long, then?’
‘Maybe a page or two, but I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job.’
The other man made a harrumphing noise. ‘I wish I shared your confidence. Couldn’t you do it instead? You’re far better at public speaking than I am.’
‘You’re the engineer.’
‘Exactly. I’d rather be working on the line than talking about it. Why does everything we do have to be celebrated with banners and bunting?’
‘Not to mention a ball.’
Giles groaned aloud. ‘Don’t remind me. Kitty’s been talking about it non-stop all week. By the by, she told me something very interesting about you at breakfast.’
‘Really?’ Robert kept his gaze fixed on the papers.
‘Seemed to think you were on the verge of matrimony with Louisa Allendon.’
‘Trust me, Giles, if I were you’d be the first to know.’
‘So it’s not true, then? Pity. Kitty was quite excited. Thought we could have dinner parties or something.’
‘Then I’m sorry to disappoint her, though as it happens, she was half-right. The lady simply decided against me.’
‘She refused you?’ Giles’s eyebrows almost vanished into his hairline. ‘But she’s been flirting with you for months!’
‘I had that impression, too, but it appears I’m not quite respectable enough. Not respectable at all, apparently. Certain things about my past—my parentage—were disagreeable to her.’
‘Ridiculous!’ Giles looked outraged on his behalf. ‘It’s not as if any of it was your fault!’
Robert smiled and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘It was foolish of me to think anyone had forgotten. It seems wealth and success allow access to society, not acceptance.’
‘The woman’s a fool!’
‘In any case, I’m sure Kitty will be able to tell you everything in a few days, probably more than I know myself. In the meantime, we have a gala and ball to endure.’
He strode across to the window, putting the subject firmly behind him, searching the street below for any sign of a grey dress. Where had Miss Holt been going when she’d stormed away? The brother had mentioned an aunt...
‘Is that Charles Lester?’ His gaze sharpened suddenly.
‘Mmm?’ Giles came to stand at his side. ‘Oh, yes, he arrived in town yesterday. I played cards with him in the Swan last night. Seemed very pleased with himself despite the fact he was losing.’
‘What about?’
‘Didn’t say. Something about a woman, most likely.’ Giles did an abrupt double take. ‘I say, don’t be too bothered.’
‘What?’
‘You were scowling. I said, don’t be too bothered about Louisa.’
‘Oh. No, I wasn’t thinking about her.’
He moved away from the window, turning his back firmly on Charles Lester. The Baronet represented the very worst of his class. Arrogant, entitled, not to mention a notorious womaniser. His reputation was near legendary, almost as much as his own father’s had been, his conquests usually women without protectors or ones poor enough to be paid off afterwards. The orphaned, impoverished Miss Holt seemed to fit the bill exactly, though the brother had definitely said he wanted to marry her. Not that she seemed like his usual type of