Page 34 of A Rogue to Reform

“I am not sure who Mother has invited. I should check the list. I hope he will accept the invitation.” Felicity tried to remember if she’d seen Richard lately. She’d always thought of him as aloof, and spent more time with his nose in books or following his father to work than with Grant and Evan when they were younger. He was attractive, from what she remembered. “I do not believe to have seen him since returning.”

“Probably not. He rarely goes anywhere other than the gentlemen’s club or to work. He takes after his father.”

“Where to next?” Felicity asked with a grin. She was actually enjoying the task of decorating Evan’s home and had taken extra care when choosing fabrics that coordinated nicely.

“Let’s stop for tea. After, we will go to the house to inspect and ensure Evan gave me the complete list.”

The tea shop was bustling with activity; thankfully, a couple got up just as they entered, so a table was free. Once tea was ordered, Felicity studied those in the shop. There were mostly women of all ages, mothers with daughters and groups of friends. “Mrs. Macleod, do you wish to have had a daughter?”

“All the time,” the woman replied in a wistful tone. “That is why I am so enjoying your company. I cannot wait for my sons to marry so I can have daughters-in-law. Hopefully, I will not be one of those overbearing monsters.”

At the words, Felicity laughed. “I assure you, whoever your daughters-in-law are, they will treasure you.”

Tea was served along with a scone each and lemon curd. At another table, a bright color caught Felicity’s gaze. It was hard not to roll her eyes at seeing Sorcha Robertson and two companions. The women, in their thirties, wore too much rouge for the time of day.

Sorcha caught sight of them and practically jumped to her feet. As the woman neared, Felicity pretended not to notice her.

“Mrs. Macleod, I thought that was you,” Sorcha exclaimed as if she just happened to be walking past. “It is so nice to see you,” she purred.

Her companion looked up at the woman and smiled. “Good afternoon, Sorcha. You look as if headed for a social event.”

When Sorcha’s brow pinched, Felicity waited for her reply. “Yes, well, I am here meeting friends for tea. Did Evan tell you I have invited him on an extended holiday?”

At the question, Mrs. Macleod coughed and gasped, attempting to catch her breath. Felicity scowled at Sorcha. “You should return to your friends. This is not the place for such an announcement.”

The woman seemed to realize her mistake and her eyes widened. “I do apologize.” She backed up and hurried away.

“Come, we must go to Evan’s house immediately.” Mrs. Macleod stood, leaving the tea and food, and walked toward the door.

Felicity had to run to keep up with Mrs. Macleod. The carriage driver gave her a questioning look when a red-faced Mrs. Macleod barked out orders to hurry to Evan’s house.

It was a short trip. A horse was tethered outside, and Felicity recognized it as Evan’s. It seemed he was either about to leave or had just arrived.

Once again, she hurried to keep up with a very angry Mrs. Macleod, who’d barely spoken in the carriage.

“Evan, I must speak to you immediately,” she called out from the entryway.

Grant rushed out from the parlor. “What happened?”

Mrs. Macleod turned to him. “Where is my son?”

“Upstairs,” Grant replied, pointing to the stairs, and then rushed up taking two at a time. “I will fetch him.”

“I best go find a place to sit,” Felicity offered.

“You will do no such thing. You are my witness to what the awful harpy just said.” The statement did not leave any room for argument, so Felicity remained rooted to the spot.

Moments later, Evan hurried down the stairs. He was without a cravat or coat. It seemed he was in the middle of changing.

“I apologize, Mother. I spilled ink all over myself and—”

“I do not care about any of that. Why would that horrible woman inform me that you and she are to go on extended holiday? Evan, you best measure your reply.”

Felicity had never seen Evan’s mother so angry. She was compelled to take a step sideways to avoid being drawn into the conversation.

“I do not know what you are referring to, Mother. I am not to go on holiday. I have only just started to—”

“Sorcha Robertson,” Mrs. Macleod bit out, jaw clenched, “felt compelled to interrupt us at tea to inform me of your plans to travel on holiday.”