Page 30 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“A direct conversation will serve you better than sitting in my club, ruminating on it, ever will.” Lord Blackstone patted the arms of the chair. “Well. That is my advice. Now, I am off to see my taxidermist. He sent word he has the most beautiful North American robin he was bid repair, but the owner did not like the job, so now he must sell it instead. I do not yet have a North American robin. One can never have too many robins, can one?” He bowed as Edward stood, then went on his way, humming to himself.

Edward remained standing, watching the nobleman go, and heaved a sigh before making his own way out of the library, then the club, requesting that his horse be brought around.

Whether the comparison of women and geese was apt, Lord Blackstone had made an excellent point. Edward accomplished nothing by sitting in the club, miles away from his home. He needed to speak to Felicity—his Captain. The Captain. Bother—Miss Price.

He needed to speak to Miss Price directly.

If she cried when he corrected her mistake, well, so be it. If she defied his instructions, that would be a different matter altogether. He needed to approach the subject of Daphne’s chaperonage with logic and reasoning, perhaps with an appeal to Miss Price’s protective instincts. He had to make her understand the sort of trouble a girl of Daphne’s age could get into if not watched closely at all times.

The sort of trouble that he had caused for another young lady two decades previously. He’d been a careless, foolish youth who thought he knew better than everyone else. He was not a careless, foolish youth now.

He had to make Miss Price understand the sort of trouble a girl of Daphne’s age could get into if not watched closely at all times.

Oh, the way Pamela had looked at him that night, eyes wide with trust, thinking he was offering her love when all he had to give was ruin.

Fool.

As he rode homeward, Edward rehearsed what he wished to say in his mind, again and again. Daphne needed protection from men like he had been, he had to make Miss Price see the importance of vigilance. Perhaps he ought to speak to Daphne first. She was his ward, after all, and she was obligated to obey him. If he could gain her promise of strict obedience, her aunt would have no choice but to do as Edward wished.

That seemed as sound an idea as any. Speaking to Daphne, that was what was needed.

That course of action decided, Edward made his way to Briarwood with determination in his gut and his battle-ready mask in place.

* * *

The smaller parlor was bright with the soft afternoon sun, the open curtains letting in the light and keeping out the still too cool air. A steady fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth providing comfort that softened the lingering chill of early spring.

Felicity sat close to Daphne on the settee, the younger woman tucked beneath a woolen shawl, her slippered feet curled beneath her. A cup of tea rested in her hands, the fragrant steam curling up toward her face, and she breathed it in slowly before taking another careful sip. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, a telltale sign of her slight fever, but otherwise, she looked comfortable. Rested.

Felicity turned a page in the book she held, her voice low and soothing as she read aloud.

Emma was not required, by any subsequent discovery, to retract her ill opinion of Mrs. Elton. Her observation had been pretty correct. Such as Mrs. Elton appeared to her on this second interview, such she appeared whenever they met again,—self-important, presuming, familiar, ignorant, and ill-bred.

Daphne sniffled. “Isn’t it interesting that someone as little in the world as Emma can still see how Mrs. Elton is ill-mannered?”

“I think it matters little how much in the world we are, so long as we endeavor to understand it. I think that is what Mrs. Elton lacks,” Felicity said gently. “An understanding of the world, and that her place in it is not so important as she assumes.”

After dabbing at her nose, Daphne leaned her head against Felicity’s shoulder. “Do continue. I want to know what happens with the Eltons.”

Felicity resumed reading, the steady cadence of the words filling the quiet room, mixing with the occasional pop of the fire and the faint ticking of the clock on the mantel. She glanced up between sentences, pleased to see Daphne’s lashes drooping slightly, her body sinking deeper into the cushions.

“You needn’t keep reading if you’re tired, Aunt Felicity,” Daphne murmured, though she was the one who ill-covered a yawn.

Felicity smiled, brushing a loose curl from Daphne’s forehead in an old, familiar gesture. “Nonsense, my Daffodil. What better use have I for my afternoon than reading to you? Besides, this story is far too engaging to put aside just yet. I too wish to know what happens to the Eltons.”

Daphne gave a small, drowsy smile and let her head tip against the cushion. “Then I suppose I shall allow you to continue,” she teased softly, closing her eyes and settling in against her aunt’s shoulder again.

A faint tap preceded the quiet entrance of a footman.

Felicity paused in her reading, eyebrows raised. “Yes, Peter?”

He bowed. “The Colonel summons Miss Daphne to attend to him in the gardens, madam.”

Felicity bristled. “Summons?” she repeated.

Not requested. Not asked. But summoned—and without regard to Daphne’s current state of health? Her niece was a young lady in his care, not a soldier under his command.

Daphne released a soft sigh as she sat up, her brow furrowed. “I will go, of course. I must not displease my guardian.”