An Independent Miss by Becca St. John Read Free Book Online

around!” Jane, the kitchen maid, reprimanded.
    “But I have to get the basket,” he
argued.
    Felicity put a hand on his
shoulder. “A gentleman always requests the right to pass, Jimmy, and a lady
graciously moves.” She edged him back behind her. “Let’s try it again.”
    “What do I do?”
    “Kindly ask my permission to pass.”
    “May I pass?”
    Jane huffed. “M’lady!”
    “What?”
    “May I pass by, m’lady?”
    “Oh.” He scuffed his toe on the
brick floor, tugged at his forelock. “May I pass by, Lady Felicity?”
    “Yes, sir, you may.” Holding back a
smile, she moved aside.
    Wiping her hands on her apron, Cook
gestured to the basket on the table, as Felicity let the organized chaos of the
kitchens spill around her. The clatter of pots and pans and the scents,
heavenly scents, held temptation to nip in and snitch a fresh baked lavender
biscuit. She could see them cooling, knew they were for the afternoon tea which
she would not be back in time to enjoy.
    “Wondered when you would be down here.”
Cook settled the basket on the boy’s arm.
    “Lost track of time, I’m afraid,”
Felicity admitted.
    “No shame in that. Jimmy here will
carry this for you.”
    Felicity lifted the towel covering.
“Don’t suppose…”
    “Lavender biscuits and a nice cup
of tea, won’t be a minute.”
    “You are the dearest, Cook! But
there isn’t time, I’ll just…”
    An old family retainer, Cook had
known Felicity since she was no more than a twinkle in her daddy’s eye. Without
hesitation, she took Felicity by the shoulders and directed her to a seat and
sat her. “Doesn’t take any time to sip some tea, have a biscuit. Lucy is just
down the hall. Jane here will go fetch her. You can give her instructions
before you go.”
    Felicity got right up again, with a
handful of her favorite treats. “I really can’t dally. Lord Andover is going
with us, and he will be waiting.”
    Cook snorted. “He should be seeing
to his injuries. We heard all about it, we did. The lad’s already been to the
ice house.”
    “I need to get medicines for both
men.”
    “Lord Andover won’t take it. His
man said as much. Said he don’t hold with healing of any sort.”
    “Doesn’t hold with healing?”
Biscuit halfway to her mouth, Felicity stopped, considered, dismissing the idea
with the flick of a wrist, the biscuit flying out of her hand in the process.
“That’s ridiculous. Surely you misunderstood.” She looked for the fallen treat,
already grabbed up by a scullery maid.
    “That’s what Jones, his valet,
says.”
    “Is that right?” I am not comfortable with such things .
“Even a simple thing like comfrey?”
    Cook shook her head. “Doesn’t use
anything.”
    “People have been using comfrey for
centuries. Surely he will use such a salve,” she argued, although she knew he
wouldn’t. He had already put her off the idea. “Really, some people have the
strangest notions.”
    “He has a surprise coming in you,
if that’s how he feels,” Cook chortled.

 
    CHAPTER 4 ~
OBSTACLES
     
    The issue did not arise as Felicity
and Andover made their way to the Smiths’ home. She was garbed in a fresh
muslin frock with vertical green and cream stripes, while he wore buckskin
breeches, unlike the coarse trousers of their tenants, and a dark blue frock
coat, over a simple lawn shirt of the lightest weight, and a waistcoat.
    The waistcoat, with horizontal
stripes of burgundy and cream, prompted him to chuckle when they met. “Do you
think your Abigail and my valet conspired with the stripes?”
    He was too handsome. Handsomeness
drew too many fond advances to many lures to betrayal.
    Still, Felicity was not immune to
the flattery of his attention.
    She should be wary, she knew she
should, but she couldn’t help being flattered. A titled, wealthy, handsome man,
was spoiled for choice. To be singled out by such a man, especially her, a
bluestocking far outside the interest of top flyers—quite took her