Chapter 19

                                    

                                              
        
                          


                          
Christmas dinner was a much more lively affair with Anthony there to share it, reflected Felicia later, as she prepared Cynthia for her afternoon nap. As much as she enjoyed the meals she shared with her daughter in the spacious dining room, it did seem a bit lonely on occasion, and at times, she found herself imagining a large family around the table—a husband and several children and even a dog at their feet begging for table scraps. There would be children for Cynthia to play with, as she had had during her years in the foundling home and sorely missed these days, and a handsome gentleman to look at her the way Anthony looked at her sometimes, and... oh dear, her thoughts seemed to travel only in one direction these days, no matter how hard she tried to turn them around.

                          
As they enjoyed the feast of roast goose and chestnut stuffing, Brussels sprouts, roast potatoes, cranberry sauce, and gravy, followed by hearty portions of Christmas pudding richly doused in brandy, Anthony entertained them with tales of the fey folk, fairies and pixies and leprechauns. Cynthia was wide-eyed with wonder and not a little fear, and Felicia laughingly begged him to stop frightening her child out of her wits.
                          
"Oh, she's not afraid," insisted Anthony. "The little folks are our friends, well, at least most of the time. You aren't afraid of them, are you, poppet?"
                          
"Course not," said Cynthia indignantly. "I'm bigger than they are." Then, turning to Anthony, "Can I see one, Lord Ken?"
                          
Felicia's lips twitched. Let him get out of that one. That'll teach him to spout off such nonsense to a small child.
                          
But he handled it very smoothly, with a wink in Felicia's direction. "It's sorry I am to tell you, poppet, that only on very rare occasions can these fey folk be seen by any of us humans, except in our dreams. They like to stay out of our way, for the most part."
                          
"But," he continued, with a solemn look at the child, "someday, if you are very good, you may meet one who will grant you a wish. But you must be sure to make it a wise wish, and not waste it on something frivolous."
                          
Cynthia perked up. "Oh, I know what I would wish, Lord Ken. I would wish for a papa."
                          
At that point, Felicia hastily changed the subject by initiating a discussion of their visits with the tenants and their families that morning. She avoided Anthony's gaze the rest of the meal, and was relieved when it ended and she could whisk her daughter off to the nursery.
                          
It could no longer be avoided, she thought. If she did not broach the subject of their relationship soon, he would surely do so, and no matter how it came about, she knew it would end badly. The last thing she wanted to do was break his heart. She owed him so much, particularly the part he played in reuniting her with her daughter. 
                          
Returning to her own bedchamber later that afternoon, she found Maris sitting near the fire with some mending in her lap.
                          
"Oh Maris, didn't I give you the day off?" she said. "It is Christmas Day, and I can certainly tend to myself for one day."
                          
"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, but I thought ye might need someone ter talk ter," said Maris, with a concerned look in her eye as she gazed at Felicia. "Ye seem a tad jittery."
                          
"Oh Maris, I have such a headache. I think I'll lie down awhile."
                          
Maris rose. "Shall I ring fer Maria ter bring some o' that willow bark tea?"
                          
"No, that won't be necessary, Maris. Please sit down and help me gather my strength. I have to do something very, very difficult this evening."
                          
"Yer goin' ter send 'im away, aren't ye?"