So Felicity told Lord Covington all that had happened to her since she had left her home that fateful night to look for her fiance. She told him about her family, Reginald Forsythe's plot, the Gooch, her father's shooting. The powders. The forced marriage that had not been consumated, otherwise she truly would be dead. Tristan Forsythe. Lettie...dear, brave Lettie. It was an obvious struggle for her to remain emotionless talking about Lettie. She had been doing fair enough keeping a stone wall in her heart between herself and her feelings for Ben, but losing Lettie was still so fresh. When her story was finished she sagged back against the sofa and stared at her hands in her lap, at the white bindings that hid the ugly gashes from view. She'd drained herself right through.
"My goodness!" exhaled Mrs. Babcock, her mind a-whirl after all that she had just absorbed from Felicity's narration. "What a terrible time you've had! Those Forsythes are such dreadful people!" She looked at the duke with astonished eyes. "Whatever can you do, m'lord?"
Lord Covington had remained silent while Felicity had told all she could. He had listened to every word, nodded at certain points in her descriptions of things and events, and came to the conclusion that his beloved Evangeline had indeed sent unto him a challenge. He sat there, arms resting upon those of the armchair, expression set in earnest, his dark blue eyes thoughtful. Having given Miss Merriman a chance to collect herself, and Mrs. Babcock a moment to ponder, he sat forward in the chair and pursed his lips in careful consideration.
"Well, Miss Felicity, I have no doubt that your family is very worried about you. You say your father is, or was, too weak from having been shot twice to endure a voyage over sea to find you. That is very understandable. The first course of action I recommend we take is writing to him and your family at once to assure them of your safety and protection. I meant what I said about keeping you under my protection during the rest of your stay in England."
Felicity straightened, gulping nervously at the last of his words. "Wh-what do you mean, 'the rest of my stay in England?' "
He smiled a bit. "Oh you know, the remainder of your time here in the country...before you are sent home to the colonies upon one of my ships." As she gaped with staring eyes, he had to work at concealing his amusement over the girl's awe. "You do wish to return to your family, do you not?"
"You-You can do that?" she stammered, having been completely thrown off-guard again.
He shrugged, smiling a little more. "My dear, I am the Duke of Belhastings, and a right shrewd businessman with a couple of ships at his disposal on top of that. I can pretty much do as I please. One of the advantages of being a duke is being able to send lost lasses home on his ships." He had meant to try to get the girl to smile or lighten up a little at the very least, but all she could do was stare at him as if his words were too good to be true. It struck a chord in him, her seriousness and underlying despair, for he himself had been just that way right after Evangeline's passing. He had felt like everything good and right in the world had just vanished, leaving him without hope or faith. Hell, he'd sent his confused son to live with his wife's family because the boy's likeness to Evangeline had been too painful.
"You can just put me on a ship and send me back to the American Colonies?" Felicity still looked so uncertain, so afraid it was too good to be true that it was almost pitiful.
"Oh definitely!" exclaimed Mrs. Babcock cheerfully, patting the girl's shoulder with reassurance. "The duke is a man of his word!"
"Thank you, madame, I appreciate it." Lord Covington nodded modestly, trying not to appear prideful. "You could not sail alone of course, so one of my female household staff would need to accompany you. A lady must never travel alone."
"But sir," Felicity said feebily, "I am no lady. I am no one in particular. I am not worth arranging an entire voyage for...I mean, you shouldn't go out of your way just to- to-" She was blushing, having felt like she had just shrunken to the size of a pea sitting there beside Mrs. Babcock. She had a sudden fear that that she must have looked even more frightful in her unhealthy appearance than she herself had seen, if the duke was eager to get rid of her so quickly!
And why now, all of a sudden, did it matter what Lord Covington thought about her? She had already decided not to trust him before he'd even set foot in the cottage. Of course she wanted desperately to go home, but she certainly didn't need anyone's pity! Why on earth were the opinons of others beginning to matter?
" 'Tis no problem at all, Miss Merriman," the duke said graciously, his smile warm. "Allow me to relate to you the situation. You see, my younger brother, Noah, lives in the territory known as The Newfoundland- or simply Newfoundland. He deals with people there in a harbor called St' John's on behalf of our family's wool and clothing company. The young chap has actually settled there, preferring it to his very own England! A cargo of supplies is past due him, I believe. All but two of my seven ships have been reconfigured by the King's navy for use in the war." He chuckled dryly. "I was promised compensation for them, but I am not holding my breath. The country is going bankrupt as it is, engaging in one war after another. But as long as I have at least two good ships, I can send supplies to my brother and you back to the colonies as well."
Felicity nodded absently, still shock-numbed by the possibility he was offering.
"You do not mind cold weather, do you, Miss Felicity?" the duke inquired pleasantly.
"Me? No!" she half-croaked, half-squeaked. Another new worry then came to light in her whirling mind: "My Lord, it would be, perhaps, dangerous to approach the American coasts, what with the French and General Washington's navies present."
"Ah yes, the war." Lord Covington shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck as he thought aloud. "I heard that Cornwallis had surrendered, but that does not mean the fighting is over. Hmm...Newfoundland is not American territory, so those waters should not be hostile. And if you were to land at New York, then I suppose you could travel by carriage the rest of the way to Virginia..."
"Have you ever been to the colonies, my lord?"
"Oh no, my dear, I have not. But my brother has been as far south as the New Jersey colony. He writes and tells me all about his adventures in the north and the friends he's collected- he even made me a map, so that I would have a better understanding of the places he's decribed in his letters. I must admit, I envy his freedom."
"How long has it been since you've seen young Lord Noah?" inquired Mrs. Babcock, absently deterring from the subject at hand.
Lord Covington sighed tolerantly. "A little over four years. Even then he detested being called Lord."
"Excuse me, Lord Covington," Felicity hastily put in, lest the subject get even further distracted, "I-I am, I mean, I would be grateful if you truly could provide my transport home, but there is still the matter of what Reginald Forsythe has done. What he is still doing, which is hounding me, by sending that Mr. Gooch to hunt for me. I do not wish to go back- I refuse to go back! He stole me away from my family, forced me to come here and continued to use the very same medicine his very own mother depends upon so that he could force me into marriage! I would not put it past him to take a ship and follow me back to the colonies!"
"He will do no such thing, Miss Merriman, you have my word upon it!" The duke looked very assured of that, not to mention undaunted. "Now I shall relate to you some of the things I have learned about our relentless little 'friend' Lord Forsythe! I have trusted friends willing to seek out information at my asking, one of them a lawyer who has been in my family's service since I was a lad. He has found out that the Forsythe slaving business is all but in ruins. Lord Reginald cannot afford to pay his passage aboard a ship, much less charter one."
"I know," Felicity attempted to reason, trying not to sound short of patience. "But he is insane, my lord. Lunatics can do things normal-minded people cannot!"
The duke nodded, understanding her worry. "Do not fear, Miss Felicity, he will not get near you on land nor at sea. I have it in my authority to have him arrested."
Felicity's eyebrows shot up, her dull eyes widening. "You can do that?"
"Can you?" echoed Mrs. Babcock, equally wide-eyed.
"Indeed. He may even put the fear of joblessness into his household if they dare testify against him, but he cannot really threaten them with what is already inevitable. He cannot afford to retain a staff of two, much less an entire house. We have your testimony, and my word of honor to back you up."
"Ha-Has there been any word about...possibly...a death at Forsythe Manor?" Felicity bit her bottom lip nervously, thinking of Tristan Forsythe succombing to unconsciousness just before Lettie made her flee from the barn. "From the fire...maybe?"
"Are you referring to Tristan Forsythe?"
"Yes!"
"No." Lord Covington watched Felicity's gaze drop sharply in disappointment and fear. "I have only heard that he suffered burns to half of his face and inhaled a great deal of smoke."
Instictively terrified, Felicity forced herself to gulp despite a roughly dry throat. "He will come after me," she murmured mostly to herself, beginning to shiver. "He has killed Lettie, I know it. If the fire did not...he did."
The duke leaned forward in his seat. "Lord Tristan is in no condition to say anything to anyone for the time being. My solicitor informs me that he is on certain medications that keep him incapacitated due to the pain of his burns. The slave girl you mentioned...Lettie? I can have my solicitor try to find something out about her, but thus far I have been told that there were no deaths."
Felicity looked sick. She was, and not just in body, but in heart. "Lettie is a slave. The deaths of slaves do not matter to society."
"I beg to differ, Miss Merriman," Lord covington informed her with a cocked eyebrow. "Slavery is quickly becoming an intolerable outrage in Bristol. You must surely have heard of the protestors putting the pressure upon slaving companies to abandon their wicked businesses in favor of rights for the colored? These groups make it their business to know how slaves are being treated."
"But they may have found out too late," pointed out Felicity tightly."And Tristan will not be incapacitated forever, my lord. When he is able to speak he will tell anyone and everyone who will listen to him that Lettie and I tried to kill him. Which we did."
"Because he attacked the both of you," continued Lord Covington matter-of-factly. " 'Tis only natural that you defend yourselves when you are being attacked. It is what human beings do. And from the way you have described it, Tristan Forsythe is the most abominable of predators. Whatever ill you and your slave friend did unto him was well warranted!"
"Others will not see it that way," Felicioty told him darkly. She was not, for one minute, about to be convinced that the Forsythes were no longer a threat to her life and sanity. "Tristan has wealth and influence even if Reginald no longer does."
"Ah, but Tristan is not a duke, as I am!" The duke straightened, adjusting his waistcoat importantly. "A man of my rank can easily sway the local authorities in any direction he chooses! That is, actually, an unfortunate means of settling a matter, but fortunately we are the party who is in the right!" And both he and Mrs. Babcock simultaneously gave curt nods.
Felicity, at the moment, couldn't care less about how justice was done, or who-did-what-to-whom, only that both Reginald and Tristan were stopped from coming after her. And she wanted some confirmation on Lettie, whether the girl still lived or not. After a moment's heavy silence, Felicity asked uncertainly, "Why my lord, are you doing this?"
"Beg pardon?" He came forward in his seat again.
Felicity was already on the edge of her own. "I must ask, why are you so willing to go beyond average kindness for me? There are so many reasons why you really shouldn't..."
"And I do not see a single one of them! My wife, Evangeline, never could stand to see a person sad in her presence. She always went out of her way to make a person smile, which made me love her all the more just when I thought it wasn't possible to love her more. She watches over me, Miss Felicity. She would approve of my actions here." There was a pause in which he seemed to be carefully contemplating the words he would say next. "There was a time, not long before Reginald Forsythe's father passed away that Eve and I attended a dinner at his estate... I did not like the way Reginald's father looked upon my wife, with such...unnerving lust."
Saying this clearly made him uncomfortable. But Felicity merely became anxious again. "Well I know that look, Lord Covington! I had to deal with it day after day that I was there! The whole entire family is despicable, even to themselves!"
Eric Covington sighed again, rubbed his temples absently. "There is one other thing, Miss Merriman, I should inform you of. This...Mr. Gooch has apparently decided that your whereabouts are indeed here in Belhastings, for my servants have been approached by him in the village. I know the Babcocks would keep you safe to the best of their abilities here, but I would greatly prefer it if you would remain in my home until I can have a ship ready to go west. Would you agree to that?"
Felicity was literally dizzy by all of this. " "Bell-Hall'? That is the name of your home, my lord?"
"Yes, dear. It is my little hole in the ground."
Mrs. Babcock giggled girlishly in spite of herself, a hand flying up to cover her mouth.
"B-But the Babcocks have been so nice to me. They took such good care of me," Felicity protested lightly, looking from one to the other, clearly befuddled and feeling a touch guilty for being untrusting. "The children are so sweet..."
"You may see the children anytime you like," Mrs. Babcock gushed affectionately, giving Felicity's hand a warm squeeze. "The duke is just but around the hill! 'E is most generous in letting them play about on 'is property many a day, for 'tis known among the youngsters that 'is land has the very best woods for hidin' and seekin'!"
Felicity recalled the protective pine tree and its concealing limbs she'd crawled under to curl up and hide that awful night. She would have most likely froze to death had she not possessed the wits to seek shelter there. Good hiding indeed! But still, she felt obliged toward the Babcocks, who had endured her screaming and moaning for days as her body's craving for the powders took its toll on her. "Am I not adequately safe here at the cottage?"
"Perhaps," considered the duke, "but the risk of you being seen every time you step out of the cottage is great, as long as that is about. I will have him arrested for trespassing on my property if he dares to try it. Only children are allowed to hide on my land...children, and runaway damsels." It was another stab at humor, but it was lost on the torn young woman sitting across from him, and he wondered silently if he had been that remote after Evangeline died. He had felt like he'd never smile, laugh or find decency in anything ever again. But something about this girl made him want to try, for the first time in a long time.
"If you think it best," Felicity murmured, although reluctantly. She looked at the older woman . "And if you do not mind."
The older woman beamed sentimentally. "Of course I don' mind! Just come see the children if'n ye can. They never had a faerie queen in the house before."
The duke raised an eyebrow, smiling uncontrollably, as Felicity blushed profusely. After an awkward moment of trying to understand whatever this inside joke about faeries was, he cleared his throat and said, "Are there any belongings you need to gather before I escort you to Belhall?"
"Oh no," assured Felicity right away. "I have nothing but this lovely dress of Marvel-Anne's her mother loaned me."
"Which we want ye to keep, because it'll give Marvel-Anne something to brag about to the girls, having a mysterious lady-faerie-maybe princess-person of intrigue wear a dress of hers." Mrs. Babcock seemed pleased with that notion herself.
"That is very kind of you." Felicity smiled, a slight shade of the girl she used to be flickering over her face.
"Excellent." The duke rose, as did the ladies, straightening his coat and waistcoat again. "Then allow me to escort you to my home, Miss Felicity, where I shall proceed at once to find out which one of my ships that I have left is at Bristol, and then order the preparations be made for a voyage. Once you are settled, you may compose a letter to your family and I will have it sent by packet ship to the colonies. Is that agreeable with you?"
"Ye- Yes!' Felicity squeaked, her throat still at odds with her voice. "I would like that very much, Lord Covington!" She gulped unsteadily. "But what about Reginald Forsythe? And my friend Lettie?" And damnable Tristan? If he is not dead, then he will come after me for revenge. I know he will.
"My reasoning about Reginald Forsythe is this: if he does not know where you are, then he cannot harass you. If you are willing to have him prosecuted before you leave for the colonies, then I can help you with that. Otherwise he will self-destruct in his own debts and financial ruin, and be utterly unable to hire a cab to follow you, much less leave the country. As I said, I can have my lawyer seek the whereabouts of your Lettie. And I can see that you are still worried about that beastly Tristan Forsythe. He will be dealt with accordingly if he poses any problem."
As Felicity rubbed her temples in astonishment, Lord Eric Covington turned to Mrs. Babcock and smiled right smartly. "Madame, I do believe it is time for me to reintroduce myself back into society!"
Mrs. Unguin Babcock clasped her hands together and exclaimed, "God be praised!"
The children were dismayed to see their 'secret faerie-lady' leave, but Felicity promised them a visit, and sealed that promise with a hug for each of them, including Mrs. Babcock, whose husband arrived home just in time to formerly greet and chat briefly with the still ashen-looking red-head. The squire was mighty pleased with the amount of moleskins he had sold in the village that morning and didn't mind at all letting the duke and Felicity know it.
He even extended an invitation to Felicity to come learn to whack moles with him some time.
Felicity insisted that she would prefer walking no matter how unsteady she stil felt rather than being up on a horse where she could easily spotted. The duke told her that they would cross through his fields, where they were less likely to be seen, but Felicity maintained her preference to walk. So Lord Covington preferred to walk as well. They set off into the fields behind the Babcock cottage since they adjoined his own property. Felicity felt awkward, walking with a ranked and highly respected aristocrat, but told herself mentally that he was still a person, just like any other.
They were quiet at first, but then Lord Covington said, "Ah, I see my sheep flocks up there."
"They do not spook easily, do they," Felicity suggested, recalling how they had not bolted that morning she had fallen over one.
"Oh nay, they do not. The Babcock children play with them quite often, and I myself enjoy watching over the lambs."
"So then, may I ask you a personal question, my lord?"
"Please do, Miss Merriman."
"You enjoy the company of the Babcocks and their children, but yet your own son is away from you. Aren't you lonely?" Only Felicity Merriman would have had the audacity to ask such a thing. But in her mind she figured she had nothing to lose. She wanted to know just how willing he was to help her when he knew how different she was than other women in this country. Actually, despite her powder-deprived illness still fading, she still felt like testing people.
"That is a rather personal question," Lord Covington replied, inhaling slow and deep.
"Then forgive me for asking it. But you do not seem to be the sort of person who prefers isolation to the company of people. I've known some people like that, and you do not seem begrudging."
Any other figure of rank might have been annoyed by that, but then other lords and aristocrats he'd known would never consent to walking through frost-dampened fields with a mysterious runaway, either. When Felicity did not say anything more, Lord Covington wondered if she'd gone silent so that the subject would no longer be pressed, but he found himslef quite uncomfortable with the girl's silence. It was actually eerie. Silence was an enemy, or so he had always thought; it made one's imagination run amok, allowed one's worries to get the better of him- or in this case, her. Incredibly, Eric Covington found himself wanting to engage the young lady in conversation, even if it was concerning the son he had isolated himself from.
"Thomas has his mother's eyes," he sighed at length as they slowly walked uphill, with Perks on their left and the dozens of sheep up ahead having ceased their grazing to watch the humans approach. "God bless him, he even cocks his head and smiles the way his mother did. Right after Evangeline died, it hurt for me to look upon him and see her likeness and not be able to hold her. 'Twas almost too much to bear. So I sent him to live with his grandparents, who adore him, but...even they insist that Thomas should not be deprived of both his parents."
"They are right," said Felicity, looking as though her mind had wandered elsewhere but sounding alert. She had been looking about for anything that might resemble a Gooch.
"Well...'twould seem I am finally coming to that conclusion myself, Miss Merriman, for I am finding it harder to live without him as each day passes."
She finally looked back at him, squinting from the noon-day sun in her eyes. "I would imagine he misses you, too, your Lordship. Why deprive either one of you of the others' company? 'Tis senseless."
He half-smiled at that, looking at her with a sense of admiration at her blunt way of speaking. "You Americans are an intrepid lot, aren't you?"
Felicity shrugged. "No matter whether we are rich or poor, titled or common, we are all still human beings who are affected by loss."
"Such wisdom for such a young lady!"
"Yes, well..." She felt her cheeks grow warm.
"Now 'tis my turn to ask the personal question. How is it that a lovely young girl has no one to come to her aid when a loathsome little stoat like Reginald Forsythe is trying to snatch her away?"
"I was alone. And sick." She swallowed uneasily, trying to remain emotinally distant. Thoughts of Ben, so handsome yet so angry, flashed through her mind, reminding her of her loss. "Forsythe planned it that way."
"All because you look like his deceased governess, whom he has supposedly murdered when he was but a boy." Eric shook his head in disgust. "Loathsome little man."
"Aye."
They were passing the sheep, who stared at them as they passed with twitching ears and stubby little tails and the occasional bleat. Perks snorted his greeting to the familiar ovines, who did not spook as he and the humans drew near, for the big white horse was as familiar to them as the grass they ate.
Felicity nodded toward the duke's horse. "He is a magnificent animal. Why do you call him 'Perks'?"
"Because his ears are always perked up, see?" The duke smiled at his beloved stallion. "Evangeline named him when I bought him as a colt. He adores attention, the mighty cad."
"That is obvious, for most of his tail has been plaited and tied with a pink bow."
"What?" He stopped, as did the horse and Felicity, turning about to stride to Perks's rear to get a look. Indeed, there was a thick white braid tied at the end with a lovely pink ribbon. "I say! Those sly little imps!" He turned his head and grinned at Felicity. "To think this horse was bred for battle!"
Felicity smiled the slightest bit.
They continued walking, coming at last to the hilltop, where Lord Covington stretched his arm out and said, "There. Down there is my lovely little hovel, Bel Hall."
"Why should you call your home such a..." Felicity stopped, catching sight of the so-called 'hovel.'
It utterly dwarfed Forsythe Manor.
It was a grand estate Felicity was gazing down upon from the hilltop; with magnificent columns lining the front. And it was a wide, breathtaking place, sprawling with grounds tended to far better than the Forsythe estate. The main mansion itself was dazzlingly white, the wings featuring a Greek influence that even from this distance Felicity could see was intricate. The gorgeous place was nestled quite snug in its valley, but yet seemed to have room enough for everything, including its huge barn and cottages of the caretakers, both of which had architecture hinting at Greek influence as well.
"Oh my..." Felicity breathed, her mouth unable to close. "It's beautiful."
"Thank you. Shall we go down to tea?"
Right away Felicity felt unworthy of being in such a place! She felt like an oddity, a servant of sorts, and that she had been rude and stupid in pressing the duke to talk about his son. But, she reminded herself persistantly, 'twas HE who asked you to stay here until a ship was ready to depart. He himself invited you. What in the world have you got to lose now?
"Miss Felicity?" he inquired, concerned with her sudden silence.
She gulped, still unable to come out of her unexpected stupor. "Um, yes. Certainly, why not?"
Eric Covington grinned, enjoying the effect all the hard work he'd put into having his family's home modified reflected in the young girl's wide green eyes. Evangeline had been his driving force behind the reconstruction he'd overseen right after their engagement. They started down the hill, minding where they stepped so as to not step into any mole holes or sheep droppings. Felicity wavered all of a sudden when she felt a nudge at her right leg that nearly made her stumble. Gentleman that he was, Eric instictively grabbed one of her flailing arms to keep her from going down as she whirled about to see what it was that had bumped her. It was a sheep.
"Well now, how about that!" exclaimed the duke with a bewildered smile. "Would you suppose that is the very woolley you toppled over the morning I found you?"
Felicity turned bright red. "I would not know, your lordship. They all look...the...same." Her words had slowed as she saw that the obviously friendly ovine was at the head of several other sheep, all coming close to Felicity, bunching around, carrying on as if this was their normal behavior, which it was not.
Even Perks, with his ever-perked up ears, stared at the clustering ewes with wonder.
"What is this?" Eric was actually on the verge of laughing. A hand slipped under his aristocratic tricorn to scratch the top of his noggin. "Who are you who has enchanted my sheep?"
"I've done nothing of the sort!" Felicity told him, once more plunged into total befuddlement. "I am no witch!"
"Forgive me, Miss Merriman," he chuckled lightly, "I was not accusing you, I was merely speaking in jest. Do not look so stricken!" He nodded at at the flock. "They never show such enthusiasm for me or my groundskeepers, so I am inclined to be the slightest bit jealous!" He meant to be jovial (after all, sheep were involved), but the girl was still unsmiling, prompting the duke to wonder how affected by her experiences at Forsythe Manor she truly was is hse was unable to laugh at sheep. In the past year, even he, who had sworn off happiness after his beloved wife's death, had been able to laugh at sheep.
"Well, then, let us all go down to tea," he suggested, maintaining his air of open cheefulness. He took Felicity's arm courteously and held to Perks's reins, and they continued on down the hill, with an entire flock of white, four-footed clouds following closely behind. Both Felicity and the Lord Covington kept looking back over their shoulders at the comedic sight, to see if they were indeed still following, and indeed they were.
Every now and then Felicity would feel another nudge or bump against one of her legs, but she didn't respond with anxiety or surprise any more. In fact, when the duke glanced at her to see exactly how she was responding, he saw that she was staring at the ground as they walked, biting her lip, trying very hard not to smile.
And that made Eric Covington smile even wider.
Author's Gab: Ben arrives in Bristol next chapter. In chapters after that, he will be reunited with Felicity, and as a writer I am trying to prepare for the emotional tornado that's coming. I feel that after I've brought them together and after what I'm planning on happening happens, I am going to need REST!