Page 4 of One Night to Remember
“Marriage,” Felicity replied honestly.
“Believe me,” Hester said, lowering her voice. “If there was a better crop to choose from, I would introduce you. I’m afraid this is it. You’re looking at the best of the best.”
Felicity nodded. “I know.”
The truth was, marryinganyonein this ballroom would have seemed like a dream come true to the eight-year-old version of herself. Even being the wife of a footman would have been unthinkable. For most of her childhood, Felicity hadn’t belonged anywhere. She and Cole had been lucky enough not to be alone, but love couldn’t fill one’s belly.
Because she and her brother weren’t a part of the original duke and heirs’ lives, there was little to no gossip about the dark years before Cole inherited. The people in this ballroom did not know the truth about their past, and God willing, they never would.
Felicity wasn’t ashamed of anything she’d done to survive, but the truth would make her an outcast right when she was closest to finally beingin.
That was, if she could bring Lord Raymore up to scratch.
Hester raised her brows. “I don’t think you have to worry about marriage anymore.”
Because of the marquess?Felicity perked up. Perhaps Hester had heard something interesting.
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully.
“You must know by now,” Hester said in surprise. “This is your fifth Season.”
Felicity swallowed. “Sixth.”
“Exactly,” Hester said dryly and returned her gaze to the dance floor.
Felicity’s stomach twisted. Hester wasn’t suggesting a marriage proposal was on the horizon. She was saying it wastoo late.
“I’m four-and-twenty,” she whispered.
“Mm-hmm,” Hester said absently. “I’m almost two-and-twenty. This is my last year.”
Felicity drew back in horror. “Two-and-twenty isnotthe end!”
“Oh, of course not,” Hester agreed. “Not for me. I’ve always known who I’ll marry. Our fathers made a pact when we were children. Titus and I made our own pact to enjoy three Seasons of independence before joining in marriage. He’s got the license. We’ll marry next month.”
Felicity stared at her before managing a faint, “Congratulations.”
She’d known she was tempting the devil by waiting this long to marry, but she hadn’t considered the possibility that things were alreadydire. Felicity’s chest tightened. She’d promised her brother she’d be betrothed before the end of the Season. She promised herself she’d make measurable progress with Lord Raymore before the end of the night.
This was her best opportunity.
The orchestra lowered their bows and dancers dispersed from the polished floor. One of the gentlemen made his way in their direction. Tall, sandy hair, dark eyes… this was the Earl of Thistlebury.
Felicity straightened. She had one more set free before her promised dance with Lord Raymore.
The earl bowed to them both before extending his elbow toward Hester. “I believe this is my dance?”
Hester winked at Felicity over his shoulder as if to imply she was very much enjoying her last month of freedom.
Felicity wished she were enjoying the evening, too. Not standing around awkwardly next to an empty spot where her already betrothed friend had just waltzed off with an earl.
She accepted a glass of sherry from a passing footman just to have something to do with her hands.
Out of habit, she scanned the ballroom for Lord Raymore. Theirs was the following set. Felicity would not be so forward as to approach him before it was time, but shewasstanding about with a cup of delicious, allegedly subpar sherry, and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to converse with.
There. Lord Raymore’s shock of salt-and-pepper hair caught her eye.
The marquess wasnotstanding about with no company save for a glass of sherry in one hand. He was in the center of the dance floor, enjoying a minuet with none other than Miss Corning.
