Felicity Carrol and the Perilous Pursuit by Patricia Marcantonio

Author:Patricia Marcantonio
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

CHAPTER 19

With a shake, the carriage pulled up in front of the London house. Her mouth withered as the front door opened. Samuel Carrol stood in the doorway.

Never mind diamonds. His stare was the strongest substance on earth at that moment. He stood erect as a soldier who had declared war—on her.

Helen stood behind her father. Her face was leaden with worry. Her hands clamped down on her apron.

Felicity stepped into the house.

“Helen, see to your duties,” her father announced. “I will speak to my daughter in the drawing room.”

The older woman curtsied to him. Helen’s eyes went to Felicity’s and she gave her mistress a smile, as if that would protect her from whatever the older woman feared might come.

“Go, Helen,” Samuel Carrol ordered.

Helen went off in the direction of the kitchen.

Felicity had never liked the ornate drawing room in their London house. Brocade busied the walls. Light-blue valances hung from the arched doorway like opulent shrouds. The furniture was unyielding in its conformity. Ceramics, sculptures, and paintings with no soul or passion decorated the walls. Plush rugs deadened the sound of footsteps and anything else that might carry a pulse.

Her father motioned for Felicity to sit in one of the chairs.

“I prefer to stand, Father.”

He held his hands behind his back. “Have you become engaged to Lindsay Wheaton Junior?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you engaged to be married to him or anyone else?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I thought so. I have registered you at Miss Whittle’s Institute for Young Women in Switzerland.”

Felicity wondered how her father got out the words. His lips were pressed so tight together they almost disappeared into his face.

“At the Whittle Institute, you will be taught all the qualities required of a lady in society. You will learn how to behave.”

“When would you like me to start?” Felicity said.

From his coat pocket, he pulled out a thin case and from that a cigarette, which he lit. “Immediately would not be too soon. I can’t stand to look at you much longer than that.”

Removing her hat, she placed it on the chair and faced her father. They were duelists preparing for battle. If she faltered, she would lose everything she had struggled to acquire.

“No, Father. I believe I will not be attending Miss Whittle’s Institute.” She could not believe her composure.

“What did you say?”

“You have exceptional hearing, Father. I said no. I am not doing anything of the sort.”

“How dare you talk to me in such a manner.” He threw his cigarette into the fireplace. “I have heard reports how you have scandalized this family’s name throughout London. How you are making a fool of yourself playing some kind of detective, traipsing about in the company of Scotland Yard inspectors, and unescorted.”

“Helen was with me most times.”

“My God, you even attended a public inquest into a murder. That a young woman would concern herself with such obscenities is shameless.”

“The process was illuminating.” How had he found out about all of her activities? She thought immediately of Horace Wilkins spying on her, but he had accompanied her father to the continent.

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