Page 40 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
He remembered.
“Well, you were distracted by the business of being a hero, were you not?” she countered. “Which you managed successfully; I might add. You’ll be the toast of the county for months.”
He gave a surprised snort of laughter, and Felicity allowed herself a small, pleased smile at being able to make him laugh again.
“Please, let’s pick up where we left off,” he laughed. “Tell me more about botany. I must say, I don’t know much about herbs and plants, beyond admiring a pretty flower or breathing in some lavender. My mother thinks botany is limited to flower-arranging. For ladies, at least.”
“That is where she may be surprised,” Felicity said, leaning forward, excited despite herself. “There are books written by female authors on the subject. More than you would think. Oh, they all use pseudonyms, naturally, butstill. There was one author I enjoy very much, and she – I like to imagine it’s ashe– has so much to say on the use of plants in matters of science, with practical applications, rather than simply as things for ornamentation.”
“Such as?”
Felicity hesitated, giving him a quick, assessing glance. Did he really want to know, or was he making fun of her? Or worse yet, being polite?
But Lord Lanwood looked openly back at her, that sweet half-smile still on his face, his hair still dampened from earlier. Something swelled in her chest that felt suspiciously like affection.
“I’m glad you asked,” she said, smiling back. “There are so many applications it’s hard to know where to start. The use of herbs in medicine, of course, is well documented, as is their dyeing propensity. But there are other elements to consider in the fields of…”
It was something of a shock when Mrs. Langley rose smoothly and smiled around at her guests.
“Ladies, shall we go?”
For a blissful hour, Felicity had entirely forgotten the fact that they lived in a world where women weren’t meant to be interested in science of any description, and only were permitted interest in plants if they limited their interest to light gardening and flower-arranging. She had certainly forgotten that the ladies had to retreat to the drawing room after dessert and leave the gentlemen to sip port and talk about dull, manly things.
Felicity rose to her feet obediently. She could always talk to Lord Lanwood later, surely.
The ladies filed out of the room, a handful of them supporting Miss Sinclair, of course. Felicity was dawdling in the back, full of dreams about Lord Lanwood and plants – ideally the two together – when a cold hard tightened about her wrist, making her jump.
“I heard you!” Mrs. Thornhill hissed.
“Mama! What is it? You’re hurting me.”
“I heard you rattling on to poor Lord Lanwood about heaven only knows what nonsense.”
Felicity went red. “He asked, Mama.”
“He asked because he knows his manners. He expected you to talk about something a little more ladylike, I’m sure. And have you a drawing to produce for today? No, I thought not. I am heartily tired of you, my girl. You are treading on thin ice, indeed.”
Felicity pulled her arm away. “Mama, I was just engaging in conversation. Why should I pretend to hide my interests?”
“Don’t you see?” her mother hissed, pushing her face close to Felicity’s. “If you could secure Lord Lanwood as a match…”
“Mama! Don’t be silly. Besides he’s my host. He has to be nice to me.”
“Do not interrupt me. I am already angry at you, Felicity. If you could secure him, that would be a wonderful thing for you. At the very least, his approval – especially after he was so heroic today – would be a great thing for you. You don’t seem to understand how tentative your position is in this world. Are you listening to me, Felicity?”
“We should go,” Felicity said, clenching her hands at her sides to hide her temper. “Everybody else has gone in. It’ll look odd if we stay out here.”
Mrs. Thornhill pressed her lips together. “Very well, but this is not finished, Felicity. I can see that the mere threat of taking away your books and studies is not enough to make you behave. I’ll have to take measures, and I will discuss with your father as to what those measures should be. Go on in, and mind your manners for the rest of tonight, if you can. You are clearly determined to make a show of yourself, acting like a haughty, disgusting bluestocking, a determined spinster who will make herself and her family ridiculous. I am thoroughly sick of the sight of you.”
It was strange how words stung, even when you’d heard them a hundred times, even if you are convinced they are not true, and do not apply to you. Felicity’s head jerked like she’d been slapped, and she had to bite down hard on her tongue to keep herself from replying. Words bubbled to her lips, angry retorts and sharp insults, but she swallowed hard, swallowing the words down with the movement.
Turning without another word, Felicity slipped into the drawing room, not looking to see whether she was being followed.
Inside, everybody had already found a seat. Miss Sinclair had the pride of place, naturally, sitting by the fire, with ladies fluttering around her.
Lucy sat in the corner, Felicity noticed, watching Miss Sinclair with a tiny frown between her brows.
She was dithering whether to go and sit by Lucy or to try and excuse herself for the evening when Miss Sinclair glanced up and noticed her. The woman gave a little cry, and grandly waved away the ladies around her.
