Page 19 of A Secret Infatuation
It lessened to a degree his difference in status with Lady Sophia. A very small degree. Not that it matters, he reminded himself severely. Still, the news brought hope and possibilities, making it more challenging to put her out of his mind entirely. He decided he would begin looking about for a London house at once. Even if he managed to resist the idea of pursuing any sort of friendship with Lady Sophia, he would still need to marry one day, and a man needed a place to bring a wife home to.
“You must be prudent now, son. Careful with this sudden windfall that you do not develop a taste for gambling—not that I think you will—and careful in your friendship with Robert Cunningworth. His father has been a generous patron to us both, paying for your schooling and securing your first clerical position. You must not forget it and set up his back by an overt display of wealth or attempting to rise above your station.”
As that was more or less what Felix had been contemplating, he frowned. “You know I have no interest in gaming, but what do you mean by not reaching above my station?”
“You have become used to mixing with Robert’s crowd, and you would be forgiven for viewing yourself with a certain vainglory—although you have always resisted such temptation. You might try to live as they do, but you will quickly run through your modest fortune that way. Keep your head down, tell no one of this change in circumstances. Continue to pursue an honest career, and marry a simple gentlewoman.”
“What does my marriage have to do with anything?”
“Marriage is one way to attempt to alter one’s circumstances, and Lord Chawleigh will not like it if you get above yourself. As you depend upon him for your connections, as—I need not remind you—do I, you must avoid anything that displeases him. I hope you will remember that.”
It was not the first time his father had warned him of what they owed to the baron, and it would be difficult to forget. Until now, the logic of this precept had made perfect sense. But he was no longer the lad he had once been, ready to bow down to the wisdom of his superiors. He had his own ideas now. The baron had sponsored his early life, and he did owe him that. But much of what he had accomplished afterward was either owing to the admiral or to his own talent and determined by his own morals. And as for marrying a simple woman, Felix had to admit the subject was not one he could even contemplate at present.
“I understand,” he said, noncommittally.
Chapter 9
When Felix returned to London, he decided that he could lose nothing by inquiring about the possibilities of purchasing a house in London. Then he would know what was open to him at some distant point in the future. He did not dream of Mayfair, certainly, nor even of Whitehall. But his inheritance would give him ample choices if he were willing to look somewhere less central. To that end, he made an appointment with a solicitor the admiral had recommended, and was assured he would be able to find something suitable for the price of five thousand pounds.
Felix did not look too closely into the wisdom of an impulsive house purchase in London, for he thought it would be a project that would take months, if not years. However, the solicitor sent a message to him the very next day that a semi-furnished house in Bloomsbury had just been put on the market that he simply must consider. It was built according to the specifications of a wealthy nabob who had just lost his entire fortune on bad speculation. The property would not remain long on the market before someone purchased it, and he must not think he would find a deal as attractive as this.
With a sensation of being swept along by a tide, he agreed to meet Mr. Novak at the house in Russell Square to examine its suitability. One look at the front of it, and Felix had an immediate sense of rightness. It was a five-story house in yellow stone brick, with symmetrical sash windows. A shallow stone porch heralded the front entrance, and the tall windows on the piano nobile were graced with black iron balconies. What was more, the front door was painted dark green like the house he grew up in.
He followed the solicitor into the house and was charmed by the elegant curving staircase that led to the first-floor drawing room. On the ground floor, he was shown into the parlor and dining room, both of which had a marble fireplace. The view from the parlor window looked upon the garden in Russell Square, with its newly planted trees and gravel walks.
By the time he went upstairs to examine the bedrooms with fireplaces and built-in cupboards, he knew he wanted to purchase the house. It was perfect in every particular. However, remembering his father’s words, he forced himself to beg for a time of reflection. He could not contemplate with any sort of ease the look on his father’s face when he informed him that—despite his cautious warning—Felix had used half of his inheritance to purchase a house within the space of three days. In fact, thinking of it brought a shudder.
“It is natural that you would wish to reflect carefully before purchasing,” Mr. Novak said as they were about to part ways, “but do remember that this house is likely to be bought up quickly.”
“I will remember.” Felix paused with his hand on his horse’s bridle. “Will you inform me if someone else seems likely to make a bid?”
The solicitor promised to do what he could.
When Felix returned home, a letter waited for him from the admiral requesting he visit the Royal Naval Asylum that had opened in 1798 and was at a critical stage of needing to attract new subscriptions and donors. He must see firsthand what the asylum was about if he wished to speak eloquently on the topic; his arguments must have strength. The asylum was linked to those affected by war, and the reform Felix was pushing for. The measures involved more than just the sailors and soldiers; it involved their families as well.
Felix sent word ahead to the asylum and arrived at the gate on the appointed day, where he explained his business. Shortly afterward, the secretary came to escort him inside and asked him to wait. He was soon gratified by the appearance of the asylum’s director, who had come to give him the tour personally.
“Mr. Knox, here, tells me that you are a member of Parliament, and there are things the government can do for us in terms of legislation and funding. I wish for you to have an accurate sense of how the asylum is run, so that you can better argue the case.”
The director led him through the service rooms, wards, the dining area, and classrooms. He gave a thorough explanation of how the asylum functioned and what their mission was. At the end of the tour, Felix was satisfied that he had enough information to give a full rendering at the next committee meeting on the subject. He might even write one of the Positive Points reform pamphlets he had started while still in Brighton. Those had already brought about awareness that led to small changes.
“Tell me,” he asked the director as they neared the end of the tour, “what is the asylum’s greatest need at present? Larger one-time donations or smaller steady amounts in the form of annual subscriptions?”
The director ushered him into his office and invited him to sit. “In truth, we need both. A new ward must be built, for the old one is too small and was damaged by a roof that leaked. But our lifeblood comes from annual subscriptions, which are at a low point. I can write up a list of how many beds we will need endowed, if you would like.”
“Yes, if you would, although I can make no promises. I will pass the list to Admiral Mowbray, who shares my interest in the asylum. Together, we will see what can be done.”
“Very good, sir. I should also mention that physical donations in the way of wool, coal, papers and pens—that sort of thing—are very welcome.”
The director jotted down the promised notes and handed the paper to him. Then he walked him to the front entrance. Felix was about to take his leave, but the director turned and caught sight of someone behind him. “Miss Edwards! I see you have brought someone to visit the asylum.”
He turned and saw a plain woman wearing clothes of unmistakable quality, revealing her status as a gentlewoman and likely volunteer. Behind her was Lady Sophia. The surprise of seeing her once again so unexpectedly turned his blood to ice, only to have it chug to life again.
Miss Edwards greeted the director. “Yes, allow me to present Lady Sophia Rowlandson, sister to the Earl of Poole. I have convinced her to come and visit the babies with me.”
The director bowed, and Lady Sophia dipped her head in greeting, but Felix didn’t think she had seen him yet. It seemed an extraordinary circumstance that she should come to visit the asylum the same day as he. When at last she turned his way, her mouth opened in surprise.
“Mr. Harwood!”
