Read Online An Independent Miss by Becca St. John - Free Book Online Page B

the rest of her had
to be weakened.
    “Cissy, dear.” Vi let go long enough to
throw the doors open, revealing a brisk evening, dimmed by low clouds, but no
rain. “See,” she gestured to the terrace. “It’s a pleasant evening, for a
change. We can step out, away from all these dullards, and you can tell me all
about Andover’s courtship.”
    Andover’s
courtship. First Thomas, now Aunt Vivien.
    “What courtship?” Nothing had been
announced.
    “Come, Cis, I arrived before the
lid was put on the talk.” She tugged at Felicity. “Haven’t we always had fun
together? Shared all our stories?”
    “Inside,” Felicity relented. Sans
rain, it was still quite cool outside. “My shawl is above stairs. We can visit
just as easily in there. And you can tell me why we are fortunate enough to
have you visit. And tell me how you are…feeling.”
    Vi’s eyes narrowed and, as quickly,
she smiled, closing the terrace doors. “I am feeling fine, Cis, but if you
insist, we will stay indoors and, as you want to know,” she guided Cis to a
quiet corner of the vast drawing room, where two chairs faced each other. “I am
here because of Andover.”
    Here
because of Andover.
    Felicity kept her head lowered,
adjusted her skirts and sat. Aunt Vi always verged on inappropriate.
    “I thought, perhaps, you arrived
for a tonic.”
    “I was visiting with his mother…”
All thoughts of tonics shattered. “She said he was here, mentioned she had
hopes of a match.”
    The cold gleam in Vi’s eye could
mean so many things, jealousy, calculation, success in attack, determination.
    “She approves?” Felicity tried not
to care.
    His mother, at a distance, had
known he was going to propose. Her parents knew, Vi knew, yet she hadn’t the
foggiest.
    Vi’s harsh laugh transformed to
languid. “She’s a bore, Cis. An absolute rigid bore, and sunk so low from
mourning I doubt anyone else would care to visit with her.”
    This was not an answer to her
question, which was an answer in itself.
    “She doesn’t approve of me?”
Felicity shook her head, bewildered, trying to understand. Although not equal
to her mother’s beauty, she was still all that was appropriate, except for her
work with herbs and the ill. But surely Andover’s mother knew nothing of that.
Yet.
    Vi patted her arm. “Of course she
approves. Of half of you, at least. Foolish woman. Does she want her
grandchildren to be as dull as she is?
    “Not that it matters. Right now,
she would approve a guttersnipe if it meant some little ones running about.
Really, Felicity, you can do better than Andover.”
    “You do not approve, either, I take
it. Because of his mother?” Felicity asked.
    “Disapprove, dearest?” Vi went all
aristocratic and condescending. “You are a lucky girl, Felicity, just think of
what you can do with that wealth. He is terribly handsome, which will help,
though of course it was the title you were after, clever girl. Power, that’s
what that title means; power. If that is what you are looking for in marriage,
which I doubt.”
    She doubted right. Felicity had not
accepted Andover’s proposal for wealth or privilege or power. Not, entirely, on
his handsome good looks, or to be a marchioness.
    “You do not believe I care for him
or that he cares for me?”
    “Jenny Wren,” Vi patted Felicity’s
cheek. “I can see the wisdom in his choice. You are so undemanding. You will
let him get on with his life. So sensible.”
    Felicity didn’t want her marriage
lowered to a sensible union, either.
    Vi smiled. “Of course, you have
your own interests, so you are marrying for your heart.”
    “Is that such a shame?” Felicity
countered.
    Felicity jumped as Vi’s fan hit her
arm.
    “Handsome men break hearts,
Felicity. They break hearts.”
    Vi held her gaze for a moment, then
rose and swirled to face the door just as the men came through. She headed
straight toward Thomas, leaving a trail of exotic scent and unanswered
questions.
    It seemed