Page 22 of One Night to Remember
“It’s an inescapable curse,” she said to Hester. “If I haven’t been snatched up by now, there must be something wrong with me. The mere fact that I’m available makes men run the other way.”
Hester shivered. “I would die if that happened to me. If I didn’t have Titus, I’d marry the first lord who asked.”
Was that what Felicity should have done? Marry the first lord who asked, and simplyhopehe could be talked into philanthropy?
Hester wasn’t heartless. She was one of several aristocrats who donated books and money to the Children’s Circulating Library, a small but well-received initiative designed to improve the minds of London’s youth. Subscriptions were still expensive enough that only families at a certain level could take part, but it was a step in the right direction and gave Felicity hope.
“If you weren’t already betrothed, what would you look for in a husband?” she asked.
“A title,” Hester replied without hesitation. “I want to have a husband in the House of Lords. What about you?”
Felicity had thought about this question endlessly. Security was the first concern. A homeless woman necessarily must concentrate on her wellbeing to the exclusion of others.
Money was the second-most important factor. She’d use it to create a Foundation for Impoverished Children and spend every possible moment helping those who had never been spoiled or coddled in their lives.
“If it were up to me,” she said, “I would—”
Before she could finish her thought, a debutante in white ran by sobbing, and nearly plowed straight into a plaster column.
Felicity grabbed the girl’s arm just before she would have crashed.
“Shh,” she soothed. “Take a moment to breathe. Whatever it is—” Felicity blinked. “MissCorning?I thought you were dancing with Lord Raymore!”
“I was,” the girl said between sniffles.
Felicity’s hackles rose in alarm. “If he manhandled you without your consent—”
“He wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” Miss Corning sobbed. “I’ve lost his interest entirely.”
Even Hester looked gobsmacked by this. “What on earth happened?”
“He asked me what I thought the best part about being a lady was, and I said, ‘The money to spoil oneself, of course.’” Miss Corning lifted her chin defensively. “It’s what Mama always told me.”
Felicity winced. “What did he say to that?”
“He said ‘what about children?’ And I said, ‘No expense will be spared when it comes to spoiling my children.’ And he said, ‘What about other people’s children?’ And I said, ‘Obviously they’re their own parents’ responsibility. A lady cannot be expected to finance every child in the entire world, can she?’”
“Let me guess,” Hester said dryly. “Raymore disagrees?”
“He doesn’t just disagree.” Miss Corning’s lower lip trembled. “He’s on achild labor reform committee, and hopes to do more. He said we’re not suited at all!”
“Good God,” Hester said with a straight face. “Not achild labor reform committee.”
Felicity’s head was spinning. She felt bad for Miss Corning, but clearly this wasn’t her best match. The news filled Felicity with hope. Raymore was actively seeking new charitable works… and was back on the Marriage Mart?
“My life is over,” Miss Corning wailed. “Once everyone finds out Lord Raymore withdrew his suit, I’llneverfind a husband. I’ve fallen from ‘diamond of the first water’ to ‘avoid like the plague’ in the space of a waltz. I’m ruined.”
She pushed away and ran off toward the retiring room before Felicity or Hester could reply.
“Miss Corning might be naïve and a bit self-centered, but she isn’truined,” Felicity offered after a moment of awkward silence. “Is she?”
“Worse,” Hester intoned darkly. “She’s right. Raymore’s interest made her popular, but his disinterest makes her anathema. With no title in her family and no impressive dowry to offer, Miss Corning didn’t just lose a suitor. She might have lost her chance.”
Felicity did not ask how Hester knew the details of Miss Corning’s dowry. Hester knew everything.
Well, almost everything. Hester did not know about Felicity’s life before she and her brother came to London. And Hester did not know Felicity still loved to spend her free time tinkering with carriages. It was too dear a secret to tell.
To marry well, Felicity needed to keep her place in society. Which meant, after the upcoming curricle race… no more tinkering in the family mews.
In fact, visiting the ducal carriage house at all was too much of a risk. The doors to the alley were open for light. Even with the increased guards, the wrong person might see in and deduce her identity.
If she was going to help her brother’s carriage win the race, she’d have to do so under significantly more cover. Somewhere pinks of the ton would send a servant as their emissary, or at the very least, never expect to come across the sister of a duke.
Somewhere like Giles Langford’s private smithy.
