“Do not walk away from me,” Sally cried out. She followed and caught his dark navy coat by the tails and dug her heels into the soft garden lawn. “Damn you. We are not finished.”
He stopped, turned slowly, and then bore down on her again until she felt very small beside him. He did not touch her anywhere, but she was aware of every inch of him.
He sighed softly and her knees went weak all over again at the sound.
“It is either gag you or kiss you until you see reason,” he confessed. He lifted a hand as if to touch her hair but left it poised in midair beside her face. “I think walking away is the safer option all round, because despite your belief—incorrect I might add—it never was my intention to break your heart or mine.”
She gasped, and when he stepped back from her she let him increase the distance between them. He had not a heart to break. He was cold and calculating. When he spun about and strode for the house, she hugged herself. She wanted to hurt him. “She had a son. Lady Windermere delivered a son,” she called. “Robert.”
Felix returned quickly. “I had not heard that. Is she well?”
“As far as I know, yes, though she remains in Gloucestershire at the family estate,” she told him with a smug smile. It was said that Lord Windermere never left his wife’s side, but she kept that warning to herself. If Felix was involved with Esme, despite his claim not to be, he would have to find out on his own that the lady’s affections had been thoroughly claimed.
“That is a relief. She has always spoken fondly of that part of the world and the Windermere estate. I would hate for anything to have happened to her during the birth.” His shoulders relaxed. “I will have to write her a letter and offer my congratulations by post before I return to sea. I do not think I will have time or opportunity to visit them and extend my congratulations in person. Thank you for telling me.”
Sally squirmed that her ploy to hurt him had failed, but she seethed with a dozen questions about their association still. When they had been about to wed, Felix had not known very many women in society. Since those days, he had made his name as captain and built a fierce reputation, leading him to become included on many hostesses’ guest lists. It had always worried her that they might be invited to the same dinners when he was ashore, but somehow they had avoided meeting for six long years.
But she knew his first visit on returning to London had always been to the former Lady Heathcote’s address. “She is important to you.”
“She is like a wicked aunt with a compassionate ear. Good night, sweetheart,” he called out. “Do not forget you have important guests to entertain inside.”
Sally glanced at the brightly lit manor in the distance and blinked rapidly. Dear God, she had forgotten Ellicott. How could she have forgotten she was engaged to marry so suddenly?
Sally patted her blazing cheeks as Felix strode away, heading for the open dining room doors. She checked her hair had not escaped its moorings and hurried for the closest private entrance to the manor and quietly let herself inside. She would make her way to the drawing room and no one would ever know she had just engaged in a blazing row with one of England’s finest captains.
Her far-too-distracting former betrothed.
A gruff male voice called to her, “Is that you, niece?”
Sally ground to a halt again, hand poised on the latch to her grandfather’s study. She turned quickly, aware of how her behavior might look and the likely chances of where she had just come from being discovered. “Uncle George?”
“Indeed.” He hefted himself up, balancing precariously on his wooden foot before advancing to her side. “Thought you might give an old man your arm.”
She quickly linked arms with him. “Of course.”
He stared at her a long moment. “It is a funny thing how I am nothing like my brother.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” He gave her an odd look, then glanced around the room. “I like it here. I like being around the family and watching you all grow and make your own mistakes.”
She gripped his arm tightly. “You are my favorite uncle.”
“I am your only uncle living.” He sighed, and the scent of brandy hung thick about him. He drank when his foot ached, which seemed often of late. “I am lucky to have married for love, you know. My siblings were not so lucky in that respect.”
Sally was not sure how to answer that. Her parents were famously not in love.
He chuckled softly. “There is nothing better than a blazing row to reveal how deep feelings run between two people.”
“I was not arguing.”
“Were you not? Could have sworn I heard a commotion on the lawn as I was taking a stroll. Perhaps not…” He frowned. “Never go to bed angry, Sally. Remember that in the years to come.”
She could not imagine arguing with Ellicott the way she had just done with Felix Hastings, so it was utterly unnecessary advice. “I will remember.”
He patted her hand. “You were always such a wonderfully unorthodox child. Always wanting to do what the boys could, no matter what was considered proper. You used to make me laugh at your antics.”
Her cheeks heated as she was chastened by the reminder of her former hapless ways. “The days of making mistakes are far behind me.”