Resilience

Chapter 17

Anthony expected Felicia was far too busy in her new role as doting mother to worry over much about her enemies, but Anthony was not so naïve. He knew that the cunningly beautiful madam would not soon forget that she had been betrayed into giving up the information that had reunited Felicia with her daughter. So his next course of action was to seek out a new home for Felicia and her daughter, in the country, where she could bring up her child safely and respectably. But not too far from London, he thought, without bothering to analyze his motives for adding that last condition.

When next he found himself on Felicia's doorstep, he had a list of properties provided by his land agent, and a box of sweets for the two ladies who seemed to constantly occupy his thoughts.

"How thoughtful of you, my lord," said Felicia, slightly blushing as he presented them to her.

"Do call me Anthony," he said. "The formality seems unnecessary now that we are... friends."

"Certainly, Anthony," said Felicia, lowering her eyelids.

A sudden impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless came over Anthony, and it was only with great difficulty that he managed to withstand the temptation. Instead, he took out his list and explained the purpose for his visit.

"Oh, how thoughtful of you!" she responded. "I have been so busy of late, but it has occurred to me that I cannot raise my daughter in this house where everyone knows I lived with your uncle."

"There is also the fact that here you are unprotected and a virtual sitting duck for the revenge of your enemies."

Felicia looked startled. "Oh, you mean at the Pleasure House," she said. "Yes, they will be furious when they discover that I have recovered my daughter." She looked at him curiously. "You never told me how you found the information that led you to her. Did your investigators steal it from the safe?"

Anthony found himself squirming as he recalled that evening in the Pleasure House. There were some things he really did not wish Felicia to know about that evening.

"I pretended to be furious at the terms of my uncle's will and she asked me to conspire with her against you to find the child and hold her for ransom until you refused to accept the bequest."

Felicia gasped, her face turning pale. "Oh my, she certainly will be enraged when she discovers your deception."

"Which is why it is imperative for you to remove outside the city."

They were sitting together on the sofa, heads together, in an avid discussion over the properties recommended by the land agent when Mrs. Grey came in with the tea trolley, accompanied by a radiant three-year-old, dressed in rose pink, her hair tied back with a matching ribbon.

"It's Lord Ken!" she cried, running into his arms. "Mama said you would come see us again!"

"Hello, poppet," he said, puliing her onto his lap. "Just call me Anthony."

She looked puzzled. "Why do you have so many names?"

Felicia intervened. "Darling, his name is Anthony. Lord Kendall is his title, but since he is our friend, he wants us to call him Anthony." She poured the tea and Mrs. Grey passed around a plate of cakes, which Cynthia reached for eagerly.

"I apologize for the interruption of the child," she said. "But once Cynthia saw the cakes, she clung to me like a leech." But her tone was indulgent.

Felicia gave a wry smile. "I can see already that we are going to have to acquire some strict discipline in this household," she said, and then sighed. "I am just so delighted to be around her that I can't quite manage to say no. Even when I know I should," she said, whisking the plate away after Cynthia had managed to snag a cake in each sticky hand.