Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

53. Epilogue - Felicity

One day earlier…

LADY FELICITY JENNINGS'S world had just been destroyed.

She blinked dumbly at her mother. “I beg your pardon. I must have misheard…”

Mother reached out, gently taking Felicity’s hand in her own, her delicate features twisting into a grimace that shouldn’t have been pretty—yet it was, for her mother was a diamond, an incomparable. Just as Felicity was. She was her mother’s mirror image in every way, save the shade of her hair. Instead of Mother’s soft, rosy hue, Felicity blazed a fiery amber—not just in color, but in spirit as well.

“Felicity, darling. It did not mean that your father and I didn’t love each other. We did.”

And while the sincerity shining in her mother’s eyes confirmed the words were true, the soul-crushing shock of Mama’s earlier admittance drowned out all sense.

“That’s a load of horse-shite.”

“Felicity,” her mother warned.

“No!” Felicity jumped off her mother’s bed and whirled to face her. “You and Father were the perfect marriage. You were a rare, genuine love that is nearly impossible to find in our world. From the day I was old enough to dream of such things, I dreamed of a life like you and Papa had. Love and affection and fidelity . Good lord. Happiness, home, family. And you just told me that it was all a lie . I am the biggest bloody fool.”

“Felicity… Just because we had lovers outside our marriage, does not mean we did not have a happy marriage, one that you would be happy with. Your father was my best friend. You and Lord Wessex could have what your father and I had.”

Felicity snorted, and her mother’s lips pressed in a flat white line. Mama’s eyes fluttered shut, and Felicity could almost hear her mother’s silent prayers for patience.

“You enjoy Lord Wessex’s company—”

Felicity opened her mouth to argue, but Mother shot her a glare.

“Do not deny it. Why would you invite him to partake in your snowball fights and tomfoolery if it were otherwise?”

“So, I could throw balls of ice at his ballocks,” Felicity grumbled.

Her mother’s lips twitched. “Dear, I know you detest his caterwauling. And perhaps your father and I are to blame in all of this. We thought we were protecting you, keeping his mistress and my affair with Mr. Campbell—”

“ The stable master? ” Felicity gaped at her mother.

Mother ignored her. “But I see now it has only left you with unrealistic expectations.”

The stable-master-swiving woman could say that again. Dear heavens. Mr. Campbell? That big ole Scotsman? Good Lord. She had no words. No thoughts. Her brain had deserted her.

As did her heart. Felicity rubbed her chest where the slab of muscle used to be. All the memories she held on tight to, that she closed her eyes and relived when she was dearly missing her papa, who had passed six years ago, were tainted now. The family gathered in the library playing charades. Christmastide season full of ugly waistcoat competitions and snapdragon. Picnics on their family estate in Kent, everyone sprawled out on blankets, eating pastries until they were sick to their stomach. Dinners where the not-very-rare food fight would break out. All tainted. By lies.

“Friendship in a marriage is much more important than love,” her mother continued. “You and Lord Wessex get along swimmingly. That is a great start for a marriage. You can find love elsewhere, darling.”

So, that was that. This conversation had started with Felicity pleading—desperately pleading—to her mother to convince Felix to allow her to back out of the betrothal contract with Lord Wessex. Her brother was adamant she marry the stupid mutton monger. And as Earl and a man—Felicity’s lips curled—her brother had all the bloody sway. Felicity loved her brother. But sometimes she wanted to push him into the Thames.

She thought her mother would understand. How could her mother deny Felicity the future Mama and Papa had shared? Any mother would only want that, would want the best, for their child.

But apparently a fiancé who slept with all of London was actually exactly the future Mother thought was best for Felicity. Because that philandering fiancé was a fun chap.

Felicity supposed her only option was to speak with her fiancé then. So, they might come to a mutual understanding of what their future would look like.

Hullo, Colborn. So, I know you’re fond of mixing giblets. I have a proposition for you, and I think you’ll quite like it. You continue on in your merry mixing of giblets way, and I’ll mix my own giblets in a separate bowl. But we’ll be friends. Perhaps we might even regale each other with tales of our escapades! Capital idea, I know.

She nearly laughed.

What a bloody farce.

Thank you so much for reading Compromised for Christmas !

Up next is Felicity's story—releasing January 14th, 2025.

Felicity has had enough. Enough of spoiled, unfaithful ducal heirs. Enough of having her pleas for escape dismissed. Now, she's taking control—with a plan that promises freedom, revenge, and the life she deserves. Her target? The Duke himself.