Madcap Miss

Two weeks had gone by since their harried experience with the swine that had tried to abduct them. Their bruises were healed and their spirits intact. Bean had been installed as her own private groom, and Freddy’s elderly head groom had taken him under his wing.

Felicia found she adored him and was forever looking in on him to see how he went on, but her real concern had been about Becky, having gone through this latest brutal handling.

Becky, though, had surprised her and bounced right back from her injuries, managing to put it all behind her. Felicia suspected that Scott had something to do with Becky’s wonderful spirits.

At the moment, they had their heads together and were giggling over Daphne’s attempts to describe the various people that would be attending Almack’s that evening.

Felicia had never been one for pomp and ceremony, and she simply did not understand what all the fuss was about. Becky was of a like mind. Felicia’s eyes glittered with the tease as her dear Daffy, as she had come to think of her, struggled to show them why they needed to think differently about Almack’s.

Felicia squeezed Daffy’s hand and dispensed with her lecture by saying, “Stuff and nonsense.”

“Ungrateful madcap,” Becky said and laughed. “Don’t worry, Lady Daphne, I shall keep her in tow.”

“Yes, I depend on your good sense, my dear, to do just that,” her ladyship said with an affectionate smile and then sighed as she regarded Felicia sternly. “You do know what all this fuss means, don’t you?”

“Yes. We are about to walk into a club with high sticklers’ notions and may not waltz until the Jersey herself sanctions it.”

“Or the princess,” her ladyship stuck in.

“Indeed, or the princess. We shall be hampered by rules and regulations, and this is certainly not my idea of a fun evening ahead,” Felicia said on a heavy sigh. “I so dislike rules and regulations.”

“You shall not allow anyone to hear you say such things tonight, though.” Lady Daphne frowned.

Felicia laughed. “No, I shall not. I may be a rough and tumble chit, but I would never do anything to mortify you. Oh, Daffy, you are everything that is good and kind and have been a wonderful and patient teacher.”

Daffy hugged Felicia briefly and sniffed. “There … we must not muss one another, for my hairdresser would have a fit.”

“And so she should.” Becky laughed. “She spent hours on us, and thank you for having her arrange my hair.”

Daffy smiled. “You are both good girls, but it isn’t me alone. I am persuaded Glen would like you to make a good showing tonight as well.”

Felicia laughed and said, “We are not horses at auction.” She saw Daffy’s expression and hurried on to say, “But I shall, for you and His Grace, behave very well, and my Becky always behaves very well.”

“Ah, now that is a concession, indeed,” Becky declared and giggled. “Wait … let me feel your forehead … are you feverish?”

“You know, Felicia, you are totally unaware of your beauty. You have already created quite a stir amongst all the most eligible bachelors. Why, Wingate himself has declared that you were toasted at White’s until Glen put a stop to it.”

“That is quite absurd.” Felicia grimaced. She eyed Daffy. “The duke put a stop to it?”

“Indeed, he said it was not fitting that his ward’s name, even in such a complimentary fashion, should be bandied about.”

“What do you think of such things?” Becky asked Daffy.

“Well … it has been an age, but, yes, I, too, was toasted at White’s, and Frederick landed Cranfield a facer for having done so.” She laughed. “My Freddy.”

They bantered over this for some moments, and then Felicia sighed and said, “Well, that is romantic.” She adored Daffy’s husband, who was she thought much deeper than he allowed people to know. He was all that was good and kind and thoughtful.

“Hmm, yes, Freddy has always been a romantic in his own way. Now … there isn’t much time, we must all go upstairs and change.”

An hour later Becky, who was staying the night, and Felicia descended the stairs to find the duke and Scott standing in the library sipping from their brandy snifters.

She knew that the soft creaminess of her velvet and lace gown accentuated her dusky curls cascading from the top of her head down her back. It was a form-fitted gown, scooped at the bodice, showing, Daffy had said, just enough to intrigue the gentlemen and not raise the eyebrows of the Jersey. Beside her, Becky wore aqua blue, which complimented her tawny curls. They had squealed and hugged one another, and now Felicia could see from both Scott’s and her duke’s stares that they had definitely caught their gentlemen’s attention.

She was scarcely aware of Scott stepping forward for Becky’s arm, hardly realized that Daffy was already wearing her velvet cloak and a secretive smile, because the duke, looking like an Adonis with his black waves negligently framing his face, his silver eyes bright, his lashes black, thick, and flashing, came forward to whisper, “I am undone, my own madcap.”

“Is that good?” she peeped up at him.

“Not for me,” he said with a chuckle.