The Convenient Felstone Marriage

‘Ah...well, when you put it like that.’ The youth nodded sagely. ‘Are you connected to the railway, sir?’

‘I’m on the board of directors.’ Robert smiled, gratified to see the woman’s head twist slightly towards him, as if she were reviewing an earlier opinion.

‘Indeed? Then I’m glad to meet you. My name’s Percy Holt.’

‘Robert Felstone, delighted to meet you.’

‘Felstone? Have we met before, sir? Your name seems familiar, but I can’t place it.’

‘I don’t think so. Unless...perhaps you visit the area often?’

‘No, not for a long time, though we used to come every summer as children. Our mother was from Pickering. We’re going to stay with our aunt there now.’ The youth gestured towards the woman almost as an afterthought. ‘This is my sister, Miss Ianthe Holt.’

‘A pleasure, Miss Holt.’

He offered a hand, wondering if she would take it. She could hardly refuse to acknowledge him without telling her brother what had just happened and, from what he’d observed of their relationship, he didn’t think she was about to do that. Besides, for some strange reason he found himself actually wanting to touch her, to find out if she were really as buttoned-up as she seemed. She looked so strait-laced that he felt an unexpected desire to ruffle her up.

‘Mr Felstone.’ She extended a hand, letting it drift vaguely in his direction before retracting it again quickly.

Robert felt a powerful urge to laugh. He wasn’t accustomed to women expressing anything other than gratitude for his attention. Even Louisa, insincere as she’d apparently been, had seemed flattered by it. This woman looked as though she wanted to throw him from the train. Was she still angry over his earlier comments or did she simply doubt the sincerity of his proposal? he wondered. And in the latter case...how could he convince her?

‘Ianthe. That’s an unusual name.’

He flashed his most charming smile. Even during his penniless youth, he’d quickly discovered the disarming effects of his good looks upon women. Since earning his fortune, these seemed to have increased tenfold, though he suspected this woman might prove more of a challenge.

‘It’s from a poem.’ Her expression didn’t alter.

‘Ah. There are gaps in my education, I’m afraid. I never studied poetry.’

‘You amaze me.’ She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm. ‘It teaches men refinement, I think. Or at least how to speak to a lady.’

‘Ianthe!’ Percy sounded shocked. ‘Forgive my sister, Mr Felstone. We’ve travelled all the way from London today. She must be tired.’

‘On the contrary—’ she glared at her brother acerbically ‘—I’m feeling quite fresh. There’s no need to speak for me.’

Robert bit back a smile. No, it seemed the prim and proper Miss Holt—he was glad to know her name at last—wouldn’t be so easy to charm at all. Somehow the thought made her all the more appealing. But the train was already slowing into Pickering station. If he was going to convince her, he didn’t have much time.

‘Wait a minute!’ The brother held up his newspaper suddenly, pointing to the headline. ‘“Felstone’s of Whitby awarded new naval contract.” I knew I recognised your name from somewhere! Are you connected to the shipbuilding family, sir?’

‘I am that family, I’m afraid. All there is of it anyway.’

‘So you’re on your way to Whitby?’

‘Eventually, though I’m staying in Pickering for a few days. There’s to be a public gala and private ball celebrating the official opening of the new railway line tomorrow. I’d be happy to add your names to the invitation list if you wish?’

‘I don’t travel with a ball gown, sir.’ Miss Holt sounded distinctly unimpressed.

‘Well, I’d be delighted.’ The youth threw her an icy look. ‘I’m afraid my sister prefers books to dancing these days. I expect she’d rather visit the castle.’

‘Indeed?’ An image of Sir Charles flashed into Robert’s mind. ‘You like old things, then?’

Doe eyes flashed back. ‘I enjoy history, Mr Felstone. I don’t enjoy being mocked.’

‘I’m quite serious, I assure you, Miss Holt. I’m rarely anything but.’

She made a scornful sound. ‘I find that hard to believe from a man whose manner can change so completely. Just now, for example, I had the impression that you were angry and yet here we all are, the best of friends.’

‘Make enquiries in the town about me if you wish.’

‘You overestimate my interest, sir.’

‘Ianthe!’ The brother’s mouth dropped open. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘With me?’ She swung towards him, two crimson spots appearing high up on her cheekbones. ‘You’re the one who can’t keep his thoughts to himself! This is all your fault.’

‘My fault? I apologise, Mr Felstone, I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I’m sure she meant no offence.’

‘I’m sure she did not.’ Robert waved his apology away as the train gave a final burst of steam and shuddered to a halt.

‘And I’m sure I did!’

She stood up abruptly, grabbing a carpet bag from the rail above her head and swinging it in front of her like a shield. ‘Good day, Mr Felstone. I doubt our paths will meet again. Our stay is of only a very short duration and our diary is fully engaged.’

‘Ah.’ Robert bent his head in acknowledgement. She could hardly have made her answer any clearer. ‘In that case I wish you well. Whatever you decide.’

She didn’t reply, flinging open the compartment door and storming furiously away.

‘I say...’ The brother jumped down after her, turning at the last moment with a look of apology. ‘Sorry about that. Women, you know. But if you’re serious about the ball, I’d be very grateful.’

Robert nodded absently, a faint smile playing around his lips as he watched her grey dress disappear into the crowd. Common sense told him he ought to feel relieved by her refusal. He knew almost nothing about her, and hadn’t the brother mentioned some impropriety? Still, it was hard to imagine anything too shocking about her, nothing scandalous for certain. And there was definitely something about her, something that grabbed and held his attention. He wasn’t sure—couldn’t even imagine—what it was, but it made him reluctant to concede defeat so easily. She was... He strove for the right word... Interesting.

He picked up his top hat and suitcase and stepped down from the carriage. The platform was crowded, heaving with passengers and luggage, the walls and metal-beamed ceiling decorated with banners for the approaching gala. He made his way steadily through the throng, nodding to various acquaintances without stopping to speak, his mind preoccupied with the image of a woman in a grey dress.

‘Ah, Felstone, you’re here at last!’ A cheerful-looking man with a shock of unruly blond hair accosted him the moment he stepped into the station office. ‘Come and read this speech, will you?’

Robert smiled and put down his case, leaning against a desk as he scanned quickly through a sheath of papers. ‘It’s good, Giles. Just don’t forget to thank us all for our patience.’

‘Too long, then?’

‘Maybe a page or two, but I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job.’

The other man made a harrumphing noise. ‘I wish I shared your confidence. Couldn’t you do it instead? You’re far better at public speaking than I am.’

‘You’re the engineer.’

‘Exactly. I’d rather be working on the line than talking about it. Why does everything we do have to be celebrated with banners and bunting?’

‘Not to mention a ball.’