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about this explosion of male attention suddenly directed her way.
    Why, the old schemer would’ve probably relished it with her usual wicked amusement. Indeed, perhaps she had intended it to some degree, for Aunt Kirby had always hated how Jason’s rebuff had turned Felicity into a willing wallflower. You were never meant to be so prim and meek, gel! Stand up straight! Hold your head high.
    This had been a frequent refrain when Felicity had first come to live with Aunt Kirby after Mother’s death. Presently, she could almost hear the old lady’s sigh of impatience over this vexing visit from her cousins: Just throw them out, darling. Go for your wicked duke if he’s the one you really want.
    I don’t! He’s not! He’s awful, she assured the shade of her aunt, as well as her own still-shaken heart.
    After that trip to Netherford House, she could not erase from her mind the image of those trollops leering down at her from the top of the staircase. He’s horrid and debauched and thinks he’s the center of the universe.
    Mm-hmm, Aunt Kirby seemed to say with that sly, knowing sparkle in her eyes.
    Felicity shook her head discreetly at her aunt’s portrait. As maddening as the old spitfire had been, she missed her dearly. It was still hard coming back into the house, knowing she wouldn’t be here—although, sometimes, hearing Her Ladyship’s blunt opinions hadn’t been easy.
    Thank goodness Mrs. Brown—the voice of reason—had also lived with them, for Aunt Kirby had loved urging Felicity to do something scandalous, disapproval be damned. Felicity had been aghast at some of her aunt’s suggestions about daring things to wear, dodgy places to explore, and shocking things to say to people.
    I’m not you, Aunt Kirby! she had finally cried. I don’t want to be the talk of the town! I don’t care about excitement, and I want no part of adventure. That’s Peter’s territory!
    Indeed, there had been times over the past fortnight when she had rather wished her aunt would have left the money to her brave, wise brother, not her. But Aunt Kirby had held an opinion even on the subject of Felicity’s obedient attitude toward her elder brother. In short, she hated it.
    Felicity couldn’t understand why. It made perfect sense to her. Upon their father’s death, Peter, at age eighteen, had become the male head of their household. Once Mother had also passed away of a heart condition two years later, Felicity had viewed her then twenty-year-old brother in an even more parental light.
    He was four years older than she was—the same as Jason—but more than that, Peter had always possessed an inborn air of authority, which no doubt had helped in his military career. He always knew what to do, had always been her protector. He charged at problems and sorted them out. Still, Aunt Kirby had had no patience for Felicity’s general lack of rebellion toward her brother and his conservative ways.
    Oh, stop waiting for your big brother to tell you what to do and think about everything, gel! He’s no smarter than you are! Just because he is a leader doesn’t mean you need to be a follower!
    But how could someone like Aunt Kirby ever understand? Neither she nor Peter were scared of making mistakes. Felicity was. How could she possibly trust her own judgment anymore when she knew how very high the cost of a bad decision could be? With one wrong move, she had made a fool of herself and driven away the lad she had adored.
    “Well?” Gerald demanded, snapping her back to the present. “Do you see now, from everything I’ve said, that Aunt Kirby meant for us to marry?”
    Felicity sighed. “No, Gerald. That is not what she intended at all. Frankly, she did not hold you in the highest esteem. And you never even tried to get on her good side.”
    “Ha, like you did? I suppose you think you earned the loot, kissing up to her all these years!”
    “Is that why you think I took care of her?” she huffed. “For your information, she