The Englishman
Hertford, England
1867
"Will, did you know your son has gone a little mad?"
Felix scowled in the direction of his Uncle Leo, who was very audibly whispering in the ear of Felix's father.
"I have not gone mad," Felix mumbled, though he didn't say it very confidently. Because he then stood up, walked to the front entryway of Rosecrest Manor, and checked the platter where the post was deposited... only to find it empty. It really shouldn't have been a surprise, considering that Felix had done the same thing not ten minutes earlier.
Entering the parlor once more, Felix noticed the way Uncle Leo's eyebrows rose into his white-blond hairline. "Is that so?" the older man drawled.
Felix ignored the comment, as well as the way his father's blue eyes followed him across the room curiously. Dropping into the armchair across from both men, Felix grabbed his drink and stared into the amber-colored liquid. He swirled it around the glass, watching as it clung to its sides before dripping slowly back toward the bottom.
"Didn't you ever tell him not to play with his food?" Felix heard Leo's voice chastise again.
"I did," his father's deep timbre replied dryly. "And we talked about not playing around with our liquor, but this isn't precisely what I had been referring to at the time."
Felix took a large swig from his glass, enjoying the way the alcohol burned as it traveled down his throat. Finally, he looked at the two lords sitting side by side. They did not resemble each other in the slightest. His father's hair was curly and dark, with the occasional gray streak peppered in, whereas everything about Uncle Leo's complexion and coloring was pale in comparison. After all, they weren't actually brothers. Just best friends.
But while their physical attributes might be opposite of each other, their expressions were identical as they looked at Felix with concern.
"Is there something you'd like to...talk about, son?" his father asked, one brow rising ever so slightly in time with the question.
"Oh, I think we all know what's on his mind," Leo said, smirking before Felix's father elbowed him in the stomach, and he doubled over dramatically.
Felix frowned. "If we all know, then we needn't speak of it."
"Of course, we don't need to," his father replied. "But would you like to?"
Running his fingers through his hair, Felix sighed. "You know how I sent Nora that letter?"
Both men nodded in reply.
"Well...I sent another one," Felix muttered.
"Oh," his father said in a perfunctory response. Felix could see the slight amusement lurking behind his expression and hated that he was enjoying this. "Well," the older man continued, "had she replied to the first one?"
"Uh, no," Felix said awkwardly. "I sent it before she replied."
The hidden grin on his father's face revealed itself further. Uncle Leo, on the other hand, was not even attempting to conceal his mirth.
"Do not look at me like that," Felix said in reply to their expressions. Finding his glass empty, he went to fill it once more. He would need liquid encouragement to deal with the rejection of Nora and his meddling mentor figures.
"It's just unlike you to care so much about a chit," Leo said, chuckling.
"She's not just a chit," Felix replied with a glare.
"No, she's not," his father cut in, reasonably. "She's been your friend for ages. And I think we are both a little shocked to see you acting like this over a letter from her. You've never really corresponded with Nora before."
Felix groaned. He was well aware that he had never corresponded with Nora before. He was also well aware that she had been his friend for fourteen years. His friend and only his friend. When they were young, the two of them would spend every summer running around the estate, catching fish in the pond, and making forts with the branches of old trees. And as they grew into their young adult years, the only thing that had changed was that their games were a touch more civilized. They'd played croquet on the lawn or chess in the parlor.
But this past summer...this past summer, Felix had realized that the games had become much different.
Felix didn't know how to explain this to his father, so all he said was, "She's also never left Hertford early before. She usually leaves England at the end of August. The woman packed her bags in July. I simply want to make sure everything is okay."
"I do not believe it is simple at all," Leo said with a knowing smile. God, the man was unbearable at times.
"Are we talking of dear Nora?"
Felix jerked his head toward the doorway where his mother stood. She was a willowy woman, still lovely in her older years. Lady Trotten walked unceremoniously in their direction before plopping in the lap of Felix's father, Lord Trotten. The viscount wrapped his arm around his wife's waist as she bent down to give him a brief kiss on his lips.
"Yes, we are," Felix responded to her question. "And could you please refrain from doing that in front of me?" he added, groaning. Watching his happily-married parents was not making this any better.
His mother smiled before standing and making her way to the small table in the corner that held the chess set and stacks of cards. She began laying out cards to play a game of patience, one of her favorite pasttimes.
"And me," Leo agreed emphatically.
"I've even trying to get them to quit for decades," a new, deep voice chimed in, and Felix turned to see his Uncle Theo. His actual uncle—the same uncle who was married to the Queen of England. Uncle Theo had the same coloring as Felix's mother, siblings that they were. Both of them had dark blonde hair that was still resisting the threats of grey.
"I think it is time I excused myself," Felix announced upon his uncle's arrival. Almost the entire calvary was here, and he did not wish to be attacked with conversation on Nora. Felix bounced out of his chair and strode quickly for the door opposite the one that Theo stood in.
"Not so fast, darling," his mother purred without even looking up from her game of cards.
Not being one to disobey a request from his mother, Felix abruptly stopped.
Eventually, she glanced up to say, "What is going on with Nora?"
Felix narrowed his eyes at his mother. "You tell me." Lady Trotten was the only one that Nora had spoken to before leaving England and heading back to New York early. His mother had only told Felix that Nora was homesick, but Felix knew that wasn't the truth. At the end of every previous summer, Nora would cry at having to return home.
His mother raised a brow in response, silently challenging her son. "I know nothing of what is going on. Has she written?"
"No," Felix said simply, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. "She has not. Now, if you would excuse me..."
Felix swiveled on his heel to leave only to nearly smack into their elderly butler, Lloyd. Throwing his hands out to catch the man from toppling over, Felix righted the both of them.
"Oh, dear," Lloyd said. "My apologies."
"Do not worry yourself, Lloyd. It was my fault. I was just leaving." Felix went to step around the butler when he was interrupted yet again by him.
"But I've a letter for you!" he exclaimed, holding out an envelope. There was a twinkle in his eyes that made Felix's stomach turn over. Snatching the envelope from the butler, Felix saw that it was from her...Nora. A rush of anxiety and anticipation came over him, and he went to rip the correspondence open before he realized that his whole family was watching him intently.
He paused, slowly lifting his head to see their captivated expressions. His mother's hand was midair, holding a card while she observed him thoughtfully.
"Well, get on with it!" Leo shouted out.
"I think I shall read this later," Felix replied slowly.
"Want to be alone?" Leo piqued, seeing right through Felix.
"No," Felix said, automatically.
"Jesus, Leo," his father said, though his eyes were equally intrigued, "Leave Felix alone."
"Fine." Uncle Leo threw his hands up, declaring he would back off. "But after you read that, keep this in mind. I have some business in Boston that I must see to this month. I know you've never had to chase skirts before because they've always come crawling to you—"
Felix heard a disgruntled sigh come from his mother.
"—but you might need to make an exception for this one," Leo finished.
"Are you inviting him to Boston with you?" his father asked, surprised.
Leo nodded, his eyes glittering. He leaned over to his father and whispered loudly, "It's right next to New York."
Felix took a deep breath, a little thrill coursing through him at the idea of going to America to see Nora. But he couldn't think about that yet, not until he had read her response. So he turned on his heel, carefully avoiding the butler this time, and left the room.
Once he was in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and sighed. Closing his eyes for a brief second, Felix collected himself before ripping open the letter.
Dear Felix,
Thank you so very much for the ornament you have sent me. The snow has not yet fallen, and the decoration is the only thing keeping me in the spirit. For the world outside is merely cold and gray.
I hope that Hertford is a sight prettier than old New York. It always is, though.
Herford, and the people that live there, are the reason that I can make it through the most frigid parts of the winter. New York during the first snow is magical. However, after the twelfth winter storm, there is a weariness in me. But I know that when the ground finally thaws, I will be on my way to England once more to see you. Therefore, leaving England early was a terribly hard decision. It went against my heart, Felix. My heart is still in Hertford. Even now, when we approach my favorite time of the year in New York, when snow threatens to fall, and the spirit of Christmas flutters in, I would like to return to Hertford. To you. But I cannot, Felix. And for that, I send my dearest apologies.
Sending my regards,
Nora
Felix let his head hit the wall and closed his eyes again, allowing the words to course through him in silence.
But only for a moment.
"So, it has finally happened." A warm, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.
Felix's eyes flashed opened to see his aunt smiling at him. One wouldn't know she was the Queen of England by looking at her. She was wearing a simple morning gown of a rose-colored muslin. There was no crown on her head, no golden sash across her chest.
"What's finally happened?" His voice croaked as it came out.
"You know, everyone in that room had to make the same decision when they were younger." She pointed toward the doorway that Felix had exited. "I struggled with it, to be completely honest."
Apparently, she wasn't going to answer his question and merely confuse him further. "What decision?"
"To choose love over everything." She smiled at him once more before disappearing into the parlor with everyone else.
Felix bolted up the stairs. With the whole family here for the weekend, he loathed the idea of running into anyone else at the moment. His brother and cousins had run into town to visit the shops, but they could be back at any moment. Shutting himself in his bedchamber, Felix sunk against the door and heaved a deep sigh.
It looked like he was going to Boston.
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