Page 41 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“A thing for which I am thankful,” Edward said, his tone still bright. “Acquaintance with you and your family has provided Daphne with a good friend in your daughter.”

A breeze came through at that moment, pushing the blanket up in such a way as to nearly unsettle a dish of berries. Edward moved quickly, saving the dish and moving to sit on that side of the blanket to keep it down.

“Heavens.” Mrs. Norman adjusted her bonnet. “I do hope the wind will not become disruptive. I am so enjoying the afternoon out of doors.”

“A stray breeze, I am certain,” her husband said genially.

Edward looked up at Felicity, sitting much closer to her now. His smile returned, warm as the sunshine.

She liked him like this. At ease. Cheerful. Among friends.

He looked down at her book, its pages rustling, and put his hand upon it to pin them in place. “You will have lost your place, Miss Price.”

She looked down, realizing her hand was mere inches from his where it rested on the blanket—and bare, she had not yet put her gloves on again after eating. She drew back, tucking her hand in her lap, but not before her pulse skipped traitorously.

“It—it is of no consequence,” she said, somewhat belatedly.

His gaze found hers, his eyebrows raised. When he spoke, his voice was lower, meant for her ears alone. “Are you feeling unwell again? Your cold has not returned?”

“No, not at all. I am quite well, Colonel.” Felicity forced a smile. How had she sounded unwell when she spoke? Had he sensed the hesitation in her words?

“Good.” He smiled at her, then plucked a clover from beside the blanket. He placed it in the book, closed it, and handed it to her. “Perhaps you ought to rest more, Miss Price. To ensure you remain in good health.”

She accepted the book, putting it in her lap, not caring he had marked the wrong page. “I believe you mistake me for someone who listens to such advice, sir, when that is quite impossible. There is a young lady to manage, you see.”

A soft laugh escaped him in a breath of air, the twinkle in his eyes returning. His lips parted as though he had more to say, but another voice spoke before Edward could.

“What book is it that you are reading, my dear?” Mrs. Norman asked, and Felicity nearly started in her surprise. For a moment, she quite forgot that they were not alone.

She hastily handed the book to the other woman, her tongue struggling to catch up with her actions. “The third Waverley novel, by Scott. The Antiquary. I admit, each book has fascinated me, but have only just acquired this one.”

Mrs. Norman met Felicity’s eyes as she accepted the book, and Felicity read clearly the other woman’s curiosity. It had nothing to do with the novel, and everything to do with what she had observed between Felicity and Edward. Or thought she had observed.

Felicity relaxed her shoulders, carefully softening her expression. “Do you enjoy reading, Mrs. Norman?”

After a quick glance at Edward, who remained seated next to Felicity, the woman nodded. “I do—and I have read this one. Though all the dramatics surrounding the romances agitated me at times. The ladies never seemed to have happy endings.”

“I am not one to let my thoughts linger on romance,” Felicity said, keeping her gaze level with Mrs. Norman. “I consider myself quite on the shelf, and all my energies are taken up with Daphne. When my niece weds a good man, I will consider my work complete and pack myself off to some seaside village and count myself happy indeed.”

The conversation was less about books and reading than it was about Mrs. Norman’s curiosity. Her frequent glances at Edward told Felicity the woman was curious, perhaps even concerned that Miss Daphne Price’s spinster aunt had found herself the recipient of unwanted advances.

Edward had closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and seemed completely lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the ladies. Mr. Norman had covered his face with his hat.

Mrs. Norman handed Felicity’s book to her. “Your niece is lucky she has you to look after her. I am certain her guardian does well enough, but there is nothing a young lady needs so much as the guidance of an older, wiser woman in her life.”

Accepting the book, Felicity held it to her chest again. “I agree. Thank you.”

“You ought to come to my home with Daphne for tea,” the woman added, her voice lower and a smile on her lips. “I would enjoy a conversation with you, I think. We could discuss Scott and the perils of readying girls for womanhood.”

Felicity relaxed. This was no warning of gossip, but an offer of friendship. It had been a long time since she had received enough notice from anyone to think such a thing possible. “I would like that.”

A sudden movement at the other group brought Felicity’s attention there as Mr. Montague leapt to his feet with the energy of a young, enthusiastic man.

“Ladies, it seems a crime to sit when we might be walking along the Serpentine.” With Mr. Montague’s declaration, he held his hands out; one to his sister to help her up, the other to Daphne, who immediately looked toward Felicity and Edward.

Her eyes were wide, hopeful, but her words were somewhat hesitant when she spoke. “Oh, Colonel, might I please⁠—”

“No,” Edward said, eyes still closed.