Page 18 of A Secret Infatuation
“Good to see you, Megs.” He walked over and kissed her on the top of her head. She was of an age with Lady Joanna, he guessed. And, as shy as she was with outsiders, very much resembled Lady Sophia in manner.
“Where is Father?”
“Where is he always?” Margaret answered with a quirk of her lips.
“The study, then. Walk with me?” He turned toward the house, and she matched his steps. He had not succeeded in explaining to himself why his thoughts kept returning to Lady Sophia. Was it that they both had many sisters? No. It was definitely not something so prosaic as that. That she was as shy as Meg, and so he felt an affinity for her? Perhaps his sister might have some insight into what Lady Sophia was thinking since they shared that similarity.
“Megger, if you were to allow a gentleman to court you, what traits must he have?”
She looked at him seriously without returning an immediate answer. She was like that when it required thought. They would not have time to finish the conversation before they reached the front door. They would not have time to start.
“I suppose he must be patient with me.” They approached the bed of flowers that skirted the foundation of the house, broken only by the path leading to the door. “He must not talk so fast and so much that I can never say anything at all.”
“Hm. It’s what I thought.” The words Felix had meant to say to himself, he spoke aloud.
“You do not have someone in mind for me!” she exclaimed, looking at him in alarm.
Yanked out of his reflections, he turned to her and laughed. “No, Megglebop. I would hardly have you married at sixteen.” He didn’t remember the exact moment the silly nicknames had started, but they had come from an attempt to draw her out of her bashfulness as a small girl and make her talk.
“I am relieved to hear it.” Her twinkle had returned, and she was looking at him with a trusting air.
“But one day, I suppose I shall have to find someone for you. For you will never pluck up the courage to speak to a gentleman on your own, will you?” When she screwed up her lips in mock disapproval, he could not resist more teasing. “And you will have to accept whomever I bring home, now won’t you? After all, Meggers can’t be choosers.”
This brought something between a squeal and a laugh as she pounded a fist on his arm.
They entered the comfortable stone house he had grown up in with the dark green door and large windows above the flower beds. The housekeeper, who had been in the family’s employ since his birth, met him with a hearty welcome and promises to have a meal sent into his father’s study. He smiled at her and inquired after her knee that was causing trouble, then went to the study.
His father looked pleased to see him and came to shake his hand. “I was just coming out to see about this commotion. You came as soon as you had my letter.”
“Of course, sir.” Felix took a seat next to his father’s armchair. His relationship with Mr. Harwood Sr. could be described as a mix of easy affection and the expected signs of respect a son owed his sober-minded parent. His father began asking him about his life in London, inquiring into its every aspect from whether he planned to move now that he had been promoted, to what his life in Parliament was like, to how he was getting along with the Cunningworths.
Felix attempted to answer all of his questions, then said laughingly, “You have convinced me as nothing else could of my need to be a more regular correspondent.”
His father smiled at this, then looked up as a knock sounded. The housekeeper opened the door then disappeared, returning with a tray of food that could feed five men, as Felix laughingly told her. They thanked her and began to serve themselves.
“So what is this I hear about a bequeathment for my sisters?” Felix asked as he tucked into the food.
“It was an aunt on your mother’s side whom I had never met. We received the letter from the solicitor, and the good news is that it provides your sisters each with a dowry of two thousand pounds.”
“What excellent news!” Felix said, his eyes brightening at this piece of good fortune. The lack of a substantial dowry had worried their mother when she was alive, and the anxiety had passed on to Felix, almost without his having been aware of it.
“I’ve only seen Meg, but I assume the others will be at dinner?” Having just taken a bite, his father merely nodded. “How have they received the news of their good fortune?”
“I haven’t told them, because I wanted to speak to you first.” His father paused, and when Felix looked at him, said, “Now that your sisters are situated more favorably, I was hoping you might welcome Margaret into your home next year for the London season? Put her in the way of some gentlemen of better standing than what she might find here?”
Felix’s fork paused on the way to his mouth. “Father, surely you know I cannot.” He smiled to soften the blow. “For one thing, I am renting a room in a gentleman’s establishment. For another, she would need a chaperone to attend the parties. As I am unmarried, I cannot fathom how I am to find one for her.”
“Ah, well.” His father seemed to abandon the idea. They ate in silence, then he gave Felix a look. “You haven’t asked how much of the bequeathment was set aside for you.”
For the second time, Felix paused in the act of taking a bite. “That was because I assumed the answer was none.”
His father bestowed a rare, smug smile on him. Then he wiped his hands on his napkin, stood, and went over to his desk drawer. He pulled out a paper and handed it to Felix, who opened it. He looked up at his father, stunned.
“Ten thousand? This is for me? How did we not know of this relative? And where did she amass her fortune?”
“I cannot answer either of those questions as I did not know of her existence, but as your mother had no siblings, it solves at least part of the mystery. Your mother came from a good family and was not entirely without connections. This aunt likely had no one else to leave it to. You must give me the direction of your banker in London so I can have the solicitor contact him.”
Felix nodded, optimistic at his sudden change in fortune. The sum would not alter his style of living to a great degree, for he must not treat it as annual income. However, it gave him a measure of freedom he had not had before. It would allow him to lease or purchase a house in a less affluential area of London, and perhaps even to that add a small estate in Sussex.
