Page 80 of Enemies with an Earl
“Lady Rosalind Yardley. I have it under good authority that she was in a marriage of convenience. With a husband who preferred men. She came into the arrangement already with child. She’d be an ally, someone trustworthy. And since she already has a child, perhaps she wouldn’t demand any further from you.”
Felix’s heart sank. Even though the situation his mother just outlined would be perfect for him. It gave him everything he needed, another layer of protection, no need to provide children. Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were due to welcome their first child soon, and if they had a son, and this woman wanted no further children—this really was perfect.
Then why was it all he felt was disappointment and an overwhelming sense of bitterness?
“If Fitzy and Georgiana welcome a son, there’s really no reason for me to marry at all, is there?” Felix hated the hopefulness that infused his words. But his heart sank at the thought. At the thought of letting Father down again by not fulfilling his duty as Earl and carrying on the line.
His mother was quiet for a moment, studying him. “All that has ever mattered to me and your father is your happiness and well-being. You and your father are beholden to duty and… Do I think he would have preferred you to be the one to marry and continue the line?”
She tilted her head from side to side, contemplating. “Yes,” she finally said quietly. “But, Felix, that is only because of how proud your father was of you. You are everything he could have ever wanted in an heir. You have headed this family with great dignity and strength. All from a very young age, when you were still recovering from an unthinkable hardship.
“But at the end of the day, all that matters is the line continues, and the earldom stays in capable and worthy hands. If you would prefer to wait and see if your brother produces a son, then, of course, I will fully support that decision. Just please don’t dismiss this opportunity lightly. Lady Rosalind Yardleys don’t come around very often. And as a mother who will never stop fretting over your well-being, the extra layer of protection a wife would provide you…”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” Felix immediately called out.
He deflated slightly.Thank heavens.Distraction. Hopefully, one that would last longer than a few seconds. This conversation had really taken a turn, one Felix needed time to digest. And probably panic over. But Mother brought up some very valid points; he wouldn’t deny her that. Ones that deserved his consideration.
His butler, Turner, stepped into the room. “The coaches from Devonford Castle have arrived to collect Her Grace’s things.”
“Thank you, Turner,” Mother said. She turned back to Felix. “Will you come with me to oversee the packing?” Her voice wobbled slightly.
Felix shoved away all his inner turmoil and instantly jumped to his feet. He tucked his mother’s hand in his arm. “Of course, Mother.”
He knew her request didn’t stem from any actual need to oversee the packing; the servants were plenty capable. But this was the final step. Her daughter finally moved completely out of their home. And if the way his mother’s hand gripped his arm like it was attempting to crush the bones that resided there, this wasn’t going to be easy for her to face.
“Turner, I have some letters on my desk that need to be posted. Kindly see to it.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Felix and his mother exited into the hall. He knew it wasn’t the same, but he understood some of what his mother was feeling. His mother had been correct in her assessment of this manor being a large place for a lone man. First Fitzy and now Flick. Everyone was moving on. His siblings finding love, partners in life.
That sinking disappointment bore down on him again. And with it a bone-deep envy. Grey eyes flashed in his mind. Dark hair that fell so temptingly over a heavy brow. Lips curved in a perpetual playful smile, a jest always at the ready.
He held back a threatening sigh. He needed to get the man out of his head. It was like the more he tried to forget, the more vivid his dreams were, the more often the man crossed his mind.
Felix stepped through the double doors of the Thornfield Hall entry—
And missed a step.
His slight mother somehow caught him before he went down. And thank Christ for her, because Felix was aware of nothing but the behemoth of a man leaning, nonchalant as ever, against one of the Devonford conveyances.
Sam.
There was a small tug on his arm, and he blinked absently at his mother. She fluttered her eyelashes expectantly right back at him. “Perhaps we should continue down the rest of the steps? Hmm?”
He narrowed his eyes. Everyone thought Felicity got her freshness from Father. It was all Mother.
But as they approached Sam, Felix’s mouth decided it didn’t want to work. The man hadpresence. Felix’s gaze devoured every inch of him, the way his arms bulged against the seams of his coat where they were crossed against his chest. The way the fabric of those sinfully tight breeches hugged what Felix knew were rock-hard thighs. It was suddenly difficult to draw in air. Thighs Felix was all-too familiar with. Wasn’t there supposed to be air out here?
His gaze found its way back up and clashed with a set of dancing grey eyes. Sam stared down at Felix, a small knowing smile teasing full lips that had Felix’s heart skittering across his sternum.
They came to a stop in front of Sam, and Sam instantly bowed over Mother’s hand.
“It’s so lovely to see you, Mr. Thorne,” Mother said warmly. She shot a glance Felix’s way, brows lifting. “A lovely surprise. Quite unusual for a Duke to send his valet to collect his wife’s trousseau.”
Sam’s smile tugged up in one-corner, all boyish charm. It was annoyingly attractive on him.
