Page 74 of Felicity Cabot Sells Her Soul
“Good,” he said, smothering a yawn against the nape of her neck as he settled in once more. “Someone will wake us at some point, I’m certain. But until then…” His voice faced into silence, and Felicity waited several moments for him to complete the thought, until at last the arm over her waist grew heavy.
A soft drone of a snore stirred her hair, and she realized that he had already fallen asleep.
Chapter Twenty Eight
No one had come to wake them. Dusk was falling by the time Felicity opened her eyes once more. Ian was still fast asleep beside her, the even rise and fall of his chest suggesting he would be for some time still.
It would have been cruel to wake him, when he was yet sleeping so peacefully. Carefully she slid out from beneath his arm, edging toward the side of the bed until at last she could swing her legs over. In the fading light she dressed silently, slipping into a simple dress and dragging a comb through her tangled hair to wrest free the knots and bind it into a plait.
She slipped out the door into a quiet house. Rathertooquiet for such an advanced hour, really, when one considered thatsilencehad not much been an achievable aim since her family had arrived to Brighton. It was not yet the dinner hour, but surely there ought to be some noise somewhere.
She breathed a sigh of relief to catch sight of Butler in the foyer, pleased to find that the house had not been as utterly deserted as it had first appeared. “Butler, would you happen to know—”
Butler coughed into his fist. “In the library, madam, likely expecting you,” he said. “Would you care for tea? The last service has no doubt gone a bit tepid by now.”
“That would be lovely,” she said, and grimaced as her stomach gave an audible rumble. “And if you wouldn’t mind…”
“Tea cakes,” he said, without so much as twitch. “To tide you over until dinner, which will be in approximately one hour.”
Good lord, she truly had slept the entirety of the day away. “Thank you,” she said sheepishly as he gave a bow and headed off to give the instruction to the kitchen staff.
Faint sounds rose to meet her ears as she proceeded down the hallway toward the library, the gentle hum of conversation, the high-pitched laugh of a baby. She pulled the door open and poked her head inside.
“Ahh, she’s awake at last.” This from the duke, who had had a prime view of the door from his position upon a couch placed against the oppositewall.
Mercy’s husband chuckled as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. “We thought we’d have to miss you for dinner,” he said.
“Someone might have thought to wake me,” she said, searching the tables scattered about the room for signs of the tea service—ah, there it was, just beside the duke. The plate was empty but for the crumbs of whatever food had been delivered alongside it.Drat.She’d have to wait for Butler to return with more.
“I did think to wake you,” Grace said cheerfully from her position upon a couch, flanked on either side by Mercy and Charity. She wore one of Mercy’s dresses and a bright smile upon her face, and in her arms was little Flora, who was gleefully tugging at a lock of long blond hair which had come loose from Grace’s plait. “But the both of you sleep like the dead.”
Charity cleared her throat. “Yes, well,” she said breezily as a flaming blush slid across Felicity’s cheeks. “Needless to say, we decided it would be best to let you sleep. So we repaired instead to the library, where we have been endeavoring to ascertain what sort of education Grace has had and to give her a few small lessons on etiquette. Such as not intruding upon someone’s private bed chamber without first announcing one’s presence fromoutsidethe door and waiting to be admitted.”
Grace pulled a face. “But it’s so much faster my way.”
Eager to turn the conversation away from what Grace had witnessed, Felicity squeaked out, “And what have you learned of Grace’s education?”
“Well, she can’t write much more than her name. But she knows her numbers well enough,” Thomas said dryly. “At least well enough to gamble. And she cheats at cards like a damned—”
“You can’t prove I cheated!” Grace crowed, tilting her chin up stubbornly.
“She’s got the most nimble fingers I’ve ever seen,” the duke confided. “And Icanprove it, you little hoyden.” The words were spoken in a generally fond tone, as if they might have been accompanied by a tweak of the nose if he could have reached from his position.
“You can’t!” Grace insisted.
“Ican,” the duke said firmly. “I can prove it becauseIcheated. I deliberately dealt you a two and a seven, and yet you somehow still ended up with a pair of kings in your hand. I just haven’t figured out how you managed it yet.”
“You might have warned me,” Thomas groused. “I lost a fair bit of coin to her.”
A sly smile nudged at the edges of Grace’s lips. “He lost more,” she said, with a jerk of her chin toward the duke. “Until he wouldn’t wager anymore.”
“And why ought I have done, you impertinent little baggage? It’d just be throwing good money after bad.” He leaned forward, rested his hands upon his knees. “You can keep it all, if you tell me how you did it.”
By the severe slash of Grace’s brows, Felicity guessed that he wouldn’t be getting his money back regardless, and she didn’t intend to tell him anything at all.
“Anthony, you arenotgoing to have my baby sister teach you how to cheat at cards,” Charity scolded. “You can keep the coin, dear,” she said to Grace. “We’ll call it pin money.”
“Pin money! She fleeced me!”
