Felicity: An American Girl ROMANCE Pt3, Ch 17: Felicity Meets The Duke

"Is yer husband about?" Felicity heard the Gooch ask casually at the door of the Babcock cottage. She froze, ready to bolt, ready to scream, ready to just fly if instinct told her to, and she would do so without thinking. There was a window in this room, fully capable of being raised if need be. Capable of being leaped through, if need be. And then, suddenly, there was part of her that said she would stand up for herself and refuse to be taken, right to the Gooch's face if need be.

"Nay, 'e's not," replied Mrs. Babcock with a touch of stiffness in her tone. " 'E went into the village. And who might I say is askin' for 'im?"

"Name's Ezekial Gooch, ma'am. I met yer husband th' other day at th' pub. I was just wonderin' if he'd seen the missin' girl-er, the missin' Lady, round these parts. There's a reward bein' offered for 'er. I'd be mighty obliged if ye knew anything of 'er."

"Nay, Mr. Gooch, I know of no such person. A missin' Lady, ye say? She a criminal?"

"Naw, ma'am. Just missin' from 'er husband's estate."

Mrs. Babcock made a scoffing sound. "My goodness, Mr. Gooch, is this another one o' those marital problems of the upper class? Because if it is, my husband and I have far more pressing matters than that!"

"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, but there is a reward bein' offered..." The Gooch sounded as if he were almost pleading. It annoyed Felicity more than it did frighten.

"I know nothing about any missing lady, Mr. Gooch! Now if you'll excuse me, I got chores t'do, and they aint gettin' done by theirself!" Mrs. Babcock was shutting the door, but not before Felicity heard the Gooch sigh irately. Surely he would leave now. Felicity wobbled over to the side of the bedroom window to peer out for a sign of him while the fluttery curtains hid her from view.

Blast. She wasn't able to see anything but the barn, the children chasing the chickens, and the little rickety gate into the Babcock's vegetable garden. But at least the children hadn't seen the big burly stranger coming or (hopefully) going. Apparently, English children enjoyed games of catching hens, too.

Mrs. Babcock swept in so fast that Felicity gasped and nearly shrieked. " 'E's gone!" the woman breathed with relief. "The duke aint goin' to like this, because yer under 'is protection, ye see. When 'e finds out about this, 'e'll use 'is rank to hunt that 'Goose' or 'Gooch' or whatever 'is name is, down!"

"What of your husband, ma'am?" Felicity asked warily, pressing a hand to her chest in a gesture of trying to calm herself after the woman's abrupt entry. "Will he tell the Gooch about me?"

"Not if 'e values the duke's friendship, which 'e most certainly does!" Mrs. Babcock raised her chin proudly. "We would never do anything to destroy that...especially after all that poor man has been through!"

Calming down gradually, Felicity moved away from the window, moving less unsteadily than before, her interest finally roused. "What do you mean?"

If there was anything a proper gossip enjoyed more, it was speaking about the upper crust. Though Mrs. Babcock was the best-natured and kindest of souls, she was still prone to bouts of chatter like any other information-seeking countrywoman. She clasped her hands together and smiled brilliantly. "Oh, my dear, 'e had suffered greatly the loss of 'is beloved wife and baby girl in childbirth 'round three and a half years ago! We thought 'e'd never smile again! His only child lives with the family of the late Lady Covington, for the sight of the boy is too much like that of 'is wife."

Felicity felt a twinge of sympathy, but had yet to be swayed in the matter of trustworthiness. "Doesn't his son need him?"

"Of course. Father and son see each other every few months, but the duke's pain is still too fresh." The woman sighed forlornly. " 'E really should put 'iself back into society, 'e's been isolated for so long! A right-thinking person can understand that its too soon for 'im to find another wife, feelin' the way 'e does, but it would be nice t'see 'im happy again. No one could ever replace Lady Evangeline."

Felicity felt kind of awkward, hearing intimate details of a person's loss, duke or not. She firmly told herself not to get involved. She had to get busy trying to find a way home. Mrs. Babcock must have sensed her unease, for she took Felicity's arm and gently walked her toward the trunk at the foot of Marvel-Anne's bed. "You look about my eldest daughter's height. Marvel-Anne has a few dresses to spare, if'n ye dont mind plain things..."

"Oh no, ma'am, I do not mind at all. That's very nice of you."

Pleased that her guest had no fastidious requirements, Mrs. Babcock smiled pleasantly once more. "Don' ye worry, Miss Felicity, you're safe here. You get changed and I'll see if I can't finish yer breakfast, then."

"Thank you, ma'am." Felicity waited until the door was completely shut before she changed clothes. It was nice to get into something more appropriate for running around outdoors, for she still wasn't convinced she could trust these people, or this duke, or this area in particular. Apparently, she was not that far from Forsythe Manor, if the Gooch could come here and inquire after her. That was not a reassuring thought.

However, as numbed as her mind was and drained as her body felt, she would do whatever was necessary to keep from going back to that horrible place.

It wasn't like she had anything to loose in fighting.

When Felicity came in to eat her delicious plate of eggs, bacon and fresh hot biscuits with apple-butter, she ate as though she were a growing boy. She reminded herself of Ben when he was younger and his appetite was always unfathomable. Bitterly, she wondered if Clarissa Dupre was feeding him properly.

The children, all rambunctious four of them, came inside, still fresh with the energy of playing up a hunger outside. Seeing that their mystery-guest, who was not a princess, but something of a special secret between their family and the duke, was up and sitting at their family eating-table, they were immediately full of questions:

"Where are ye from?"

"Wot's it like there?"

"Do ye have brothers an' sisters?"

"Can you work magic?"

Mrs. Babcock turned red at her children's relentlessness. "The four o' you be quiet! Miss Felicity wants to eat! She don' need four little bees hummin' around 'er askin' questions!"

Felicity offered them all a polite smile and said softly, "They are no bother to me, ma'am. I have three younger siblings myself. There are far worse things for me to be concerned with than curious children."

A look of understanding passed between Felicity and Mrs. Babcock as Marvel-Anne turned to her mother and entreated, "See, Mama? She doesn't mind us!"

" 'Felicity'," sighed Poppy Babcock dreamily, thoughtfully, to no one in particular. " 'Tis such a lovely name- the name of a faerie queen!"

Felicity turned red.

The seven year old girl, Pudding, nudged Poppy and whispered (loudly), "I thought you didn' believe in faeries!"

"Not all of 'em!"

Mrs Babcock shushed her excited youngsters, reminding them with motherly authority in her voice that they were to speak of Miss Felicity to no one, especially outside the house. As much as the children were enthused to have such a novelty as a mystery guest/maybe-princess/maybe-faerie queen in their home, they wished very much to brag and boast, but risking the wrath of their mother and the disappointing the duke was stronger than the fear of the Lord in their minds.

Marvel-Anne expressed disappointment with a sigh and a "something exciting finally happens and we cannot say naught to no one," statement, to which Mrs. Babcock scolded in reply, "Now let us have none of your sass this morning, Marvel-Anne. I want ye t'take Poppy with ye up to Belhall and ask for Lord Covington. He'll be wantin' to see Miss Felicity now that she's back in her senses."

Hastily, she turned to Felicity, blushing. "Beggin' yer pardon, dear, but the duke is most eager t'hear yer story."

Felicity nodded with polite understanding, though on the inside she really wasn't in any kind of mood to meet a ranked lordship at all. She would do whatever she had to, though, in order to get home to her family. This family seemed to be a decent, likeable lot, even though she had yet to meet the squire. 'Twas reasonable that if a duke entrusted them with her safe-keeping, that they certainly would not want to let him down.

When breakfast was finished, Marvel-Anne and Poppy donned their cloaks and set off for the duke's place, Pudding and Rex went to their lessons just inside a small adjoining room, where they were to practice hand writing and reading, respectively, within earshot of their mindful mother, who cleared the table with Felicity's help.

"Ye needn't tend to plates an' such, dear," Mrs. Babcock said fussily. "Ye just got over a terrible affliction! Yer a guest here. Do sit down an' finish yer tea."

"Thank you, Mrs. Babcock, but if I do not find a way of keeping my mind occupied, I shall go to pieces thinking of things I'd rather not."

"Well...I s'pose I can't argue with that, now, can I?" smiled sympathetically, with a cock of her head. "I've always believed that idle hands are the devil's tools. Come along, then, and show me how skilled ye are in the trade of dish-washing."

"Oh Mama! Can't I help Miss Felicity wash the dishes, too?" cried young Pudding, dropping her ink quill and trotting in to them. "Can't I?"

"Oh me too!" cried little Rex, who reminded Felicity a lot of William when he was that age. He came trotting in after his sister in a flurry of excitement.

" 'Tis not 'Can't I,' but 'May I?' and no, you may not," said Mrs. Babcock sternly, hands on hips. "Ye want t'grow up ignorant? Both o' ye get back to yer lessons so ye can make somethin' of yerselves someday. I won' have ignorant children who don' know what to do with their silly selves! Now shoo!"

"Yes, Mama," the two disappinted youngsters recited, slowly turning back to the little room with shuffling feet.

Mrs. Babcock sighed and said to Felicity in a lowered voice, "They never beg t'do chores when we aint got special company." She giggled secretively. "But truth be told, 'tis flattering t'know they want to show themselves off as right proper lil' angels who aint ignorant after all. Unfortunately, they jus' don' want to do it until we 'ave company!"

Felicity smiled a little. "I was like that when I was that age." Then something nagged at her undeniable Merriman-curiosity, and she asked, "Are...are girls allowed to be schooled here in England, ma'am?"

"Somewhat," Mrs. Babcock smiled as she accepted the stack of dishes Felicity gave her from the table. "Just depends. But they don' get the learnin' that the boys do, no matter what school they attend. We aint poor, but we aint wealthy, neither. I want my girls t'learn readin' and writin' so they can take on jobs as governesses if they can't find suitable husbands. Eligible men aint easy t'find 'round these parts."

Felicity looked soured. "And governesses are not exactly held in high regard. Except for Reginald Forsythe's. He was so obsessed with his at the age of seven that he killed her to keep her from leaving."

Mrs. Babcock gasped, stepping closer to Felicity with widened brown eyes. "Ye don' say! Lord above, I heard that he was strange, but here is the truth to decide it all! How d'ye know?"

By speaking to someone of Reginald's murderous childhood, she felt as if she were getting back at him, and it pleased her. "His cousin Tristan told me. Reginald and Tristan have no love for each other, and if one of them revealed a horrible secret about the other, I would believe it because they hate each other enough to tell the truth." She 'hrumph-ed' sarcastically. "Unless they are trying to spite one another, their mouths are full of lies."

"How dreadful!" exclaimed Unguin Babcock, looking absolutely fascinated and not the least bit appalled. "Why, if we did'n have dishes to do, I'd boil us up another pot o' tea an' listen to your whole story! I'll wager those Forsythes are-"

"Someone's coming!" Felicity whispered shrilly, her red head whipping around toward the door of the cottage. "I hear a horse!"

There was also the sounds of girls' laughter. Mrs. Babcock breathed a sigh of relief as she scurried over to the nearest window to look out. " 'Tis Poppy and Marvel-Anne! They have returned with the duke, Miss Felicity! I do believe they met 'im out on 'is mornin' rounds, for 'he's leadin' 'em on 'is horse!"

Felicity joined at the window, peering out nervously as if she expected any one of the unpleasant faces she'd had to look upon the last four months to suddenly pop up out of nowhere. But all she saw was Poppy and Marvel-Anne sitting astride the big white stallion of Lord Eric Covington, second Duke of Belhastings, who himself walked alongside the magnificent animal, holding its reins as the girls continued to giggle.

Perhaps this duke was not so bad after all. He was grinning as he walked his big horse up the path to the house. Pudding and Rex came flying back in from the little room they were supposed to be reading and writing in so they could look out the window, too. And this time Mrs. Babcock didn't mind. The man did seem friendly, to the girls at least. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired (as far as Felicity could tell underneath his tricorn), reminding her sadly of Ben Davidson. She had to draw in her breath suddenly and slam down the welling urge to sob.

He certainly wasn't dressed like any duke that she had ever heard about. No royal-looking garb whatsoever. He was dressed in sharp-looking dark blue coat and breeches, appearing as any well-dressed gentleman should without anything to indicate that he was ranked- aside from something like a badge or crest on the side of his tricorn, Felicity could not tell for certain at this distance. She watched passively as he tied the horse to a post and helped the gleeful girls down one at a time.

Poppy and Marvel-Anne seemed to absolutely adore him.

As if reading her thoughts, Mrs. Babcock smiled and said, "M'husband and I were hoping that one day 'is son, young Thomas, might want to marry Poppy or Pudding, seein' that Marvel-Anne is five years too old, but the poor lad is never around long enough to- Oh, here 'e comes!" She bustled past Felicity, adjusting her mobcap (which actually didn't need any adjusting) on her way to the cottage door. She hastily beckoned to Felicity to come to her side.

Felicity did not attempt to adjust her own mobcap, which was actually not hers but Marvel-Anne's, feeling that whatever ill-looking state she would be seen in would be a form of protection to hide behind.

Mrs. Babcock gave the duke a few seconds to rap upon the door, despite Poppy and Marvel-Anne excitedly shouting on the outside, "We're back, Mama! We're back!" Pudding and Rex giggled and jumped up and down where they stood. Thier mother scolded lightly, "All right, all right, calm down!" She herself took a deep breath and flung open the door, exclaiming, "My good Lord Covington! How nice that ye've come so quickly! Do come insode and allow me to present to you our lovely guest, full awake at last!"

Felicity was still uncertain about the 'fully' part.

As the second Duke of Belhastings quickly stepped inside, removing his aristocratic tricorn and bowing to Mrs. Babcock, Poppy and Marvel-Anne flounced in behind him, still full of limitless, youthful energy, cheeks pink from the fesh cold air outside. They stood with their siblings and grinned proudly at Felicity. The duke turned to Felicity and bowed a second time. His blue eyes met her unimpressed,somber greenones, and he smiled most pleasantly.

"M'lord, this is Miss Felicity Merriman of Virginia, in the American colonies." Mrs. Babcock beamed happily. "Miss Felicity, is our friend and neighbor, Lord Covington, the second Duke of Belhastings."

Felicity curtsied stiffly, briefly.

"So, our mystery guest has a name and an origin!" Lord Covington grinned at her good-naturedly. " 'Tis a pleasure to meet you formally, Miss Merriman."

"Thank you, Lord Covington," Felicity replied emotionlessly, unwilling to extend any warmth beyond the Babcocks as yet. "I understand I have you to thank for saving my life out in the field, after I..." She hesitated, feeling quite awkward attempting to describe how she nearly committed suicide. "I was...very ill. I am still not myself." And I wonder if I ever will be again. " But I thank you just the same."

"You are quite welcome, Miss Merriman. Always glad to be of service to my fellow human beings." He looked to Mrs. Babcock, who was so into their conversation that she had forgotten herself entirely.

"Oh! Oh my, let us go sit down, shall we?" The kindly woman turned red, gesturing toward the parlor. The eager children wanted to follow, and had every intention of doing so, when their mother turned to them and said, "Now, children, you are excused from your lessons for the time being- but only so that you may attend to the duke's horse."

"Oh, may we, m'lord?" Little Rex Babcock looked as though nothing in the world could make him happier than to attend to the duke's magnificent white stallion.

"Yes, you may," Lord Covington agreed amiably, knowing that his trusted mount would indeed be well tended to in the hands of the eager-to-please Babcock children. Despite their rambunctiousness they truly were dear little things. "I do believe Perks has cantered up a thirst this morning, and would appreciate a drink...and a little affection from some of the lovely little ladies around here. Go ahead."

Blissfully happy, the youngsters nearly tripped over one another on their way to the pegs on which their cloaks hung so that they could get out to the big horse tied at the gate. This would enable the grown ups to discuss important matters, but that fact was lost upon four energetic children who's sole purpose in life at this moment was to see to it that the Duke of Belhastings's horse was properly fed and watered. Mrs. Babcock spared the duke a relieved look, and ushered her two guests into the parlor.

"Some hot tea, m'lord? 'Tis quite crisp this mornin'."

"No thank you, madame, I am good. Is your husband home?"

This inquiry immediately annoyed Felicity, who made no attempt at hiding it as she sat down beside Mrs. Babcock on the two-seater across from the duke, who sat in one of the high-backed chairs. Why was it everyone who came to someone's door always asked for a woman's husband? 'Twas as if people believed a woman was not capable of knowing anything that went on outside her own kitchen!

"Nay, m'lord, he went into the village early this mornin' to sell moleskins. 'E's never home when things happen! A man came earlier, inquiring t'see Rufus." She leaned forward, suddenly secretive and nervous. " 'Twas the man 'e met at the pub t'other day, the one who told 'im about Lady Forsythe being missin'!"

Felicity frowned even harder and put in, "Please do not call me that, Ma'am, 'tis not my name at all!"

The duke took quick note of that. "So it seems, Miss Merriman. Since you are apparently recovering from your nasty affliction, may I assume you can tell us your story of how you came to be in your situation?" Having also noted the chagrin on the girl's ashen face when he had inquired on the whereabouts of the squire, he added politely, "I was wanting to include in on the conversation so that he may be made aware of my instructions on keeping your location safe."

Oh. Felicity's chin came up a little. She never used to be this way, so mistrusting of people, so negatively assuming. She didn't like the new Felicity she had become. It was alarming. "I will tell you everthing...though you may not believe it, my lord"

"Why do you say that?" The duke seemed genuinely surprised.

She gulped warily, her throat still achy and croaky. "Because I can hardly believe it all myself." Her blank, empty stare slipped to the floor. "I didn't ask to be brought here. I didn't want to have anything to do with Lord Reginald Forsythe."

Lord Covington nodded. "Believe it or not, Miss Merriman, I do not wish to have anything to do with Lord Forsythe, either. His family is a strange lot. A most unnerving lot."

Felicity's eyes went wide. This duke knew the Forsythes? "H-How do you...?" She couldn't finish she was so taken aback.

The duke smiled tolerantly, clasped his hands together upon his knee and looked her directly in the eye. "Why don't you begin with your story and then I shall tell you mine."

Author's babble: I didn't know I'd be getting such concerned responses about Lettie, whom I had not planned on bringing back, after all she's not an American Girl character, but one out of my own head. It is possible to bring her back, and if you guys really want me to, I can do it. Then there's the matter of Nan marrying the French character I created. I wouldn't have her go live in France, away from her family, since I have already put the Merriman family through enough separations! Anyone have thoughts about that? And sorry this chapter was so late. A few days ago I had to do a system restore on my computer, but at least its working MUCH better now!