"A present?" he repeated, his attention shifting back to her. "Yes, I would like to see it."
"I'll go get it," she offered, and started to rise, but Maxwell motioned for her to stay still.
"Hastings will fetch it for you," he said. Another servant whom Felicity had not even noticed before stepped forward and listened intently to Felicity's instructions to fetch the red carpetbag that Mr. Logan had carried in with him.
Felicity reflected that a person could get mighty lazy living in this house.
"That's a lovely dress, my dear," Maxwell said when Hastings had gone.
"Oh, thank you," Felicity said, flushing slightly. "It's my wedding dress." Self-consciously, she touched one of the buttons at her throat.
Maxwell watched the motion thoughtfully. "I'll bet you made it yourself, too," he ventured.
"Why, yes, I did," Felicity admitted, a little amazed that he should guess.
Richard turned his head and coughed, but she barely noticed. Maxwell simply smiled. "Well, she's clever as well as pretty, Richard. I can see you have a real eye for style, my dear. Perhaps while you're here, you'll allow me to buy you a few more gowns."
Felicity shook her head, smiling to soften her refusal. "I don't need any clothes, Grandfather. Mr. Logan is very good to me. I already have more dresses than I can wear."
"Nonsense," Maxwell chuckled. "A pretty girl never has too many dresses. Besides, your friends will be disappointed if you don't come back with something in the height of fashion to show them. Indulge an old man his whimsy, will you? It has been too many years since I was allowed to buy something pretty for a beautiful young woman."
Felicity glanced at her husband. Misreading his expression, she guessed that he was displeased by her grandfather's offer. "No, really-" she began, but Josh cut her off.
"My wife is an unusual woman, Mr. Maxwell. She was brought up to scorn material possessions," Josh explained, ignoring Felicity's disgruntled frown. He really was angry, but not, as Felicity supposed, at her grandfather's offer. For the first time he had seen her beautiful wedding dress through Henry Maxwell's eyes and realized how hopelessly provincial she must appear. Why hadn't he anticipated this? Why hadn't Blanche anticipated it? They could have stopped off in Dallas for a few days to get Felicity some stylish clothes from Blanche's dressmaker. But it was too late now. He would just have to be gracious, in spite of how much it galled him to see the pity Richard and Maxwell could barely conceal. "Felicity and I had our first argument over how elaborate her wedding dress should be. As you can see, she won."
"Mr. Logan!" Felicity remonstrated, ready to point out that she hadn't even wanted a gown as elaborate as the one he had forced her to select, but he gave her no chance.
"I think you'll hurt your grandfather's feelings if you refuse his generous offer," Josh told her gently.
This left her momentarily speechless, since she had only continued to refuse because she thought Joshua disapproved. "Well, all right," Felicity finally agreed, somehow managing a gracious smile.
At that moment, Hastings returned with the carpetbag. Felicity fished inside and produced the decorated box. With a combination of trepidation and anticipation, she placed it on the table in front of her grandfather.
Maxwell gave her a long, considering look, and then he flipped open the box. He stiffened immediately. "Photographs," he said, spitting out the word as if it were vile. "I suppose your father took them."
Felicity watched the warmth in his eyes freeze solid, and for one second she gave thanks that she had included none of her father's pictures in this collection. If her father had hated Henry Maxwell enough to keep her from him all these years, then Henry Maxwell returned that hate tenfold, judging from his expression.
"No, Grandfather," she hastened to explain. "These are all photographs that I took. Some of them are of our ranch in Texas, and our friends. The one on top is our house with all our ranch hands posed in front of it."
But Maxwell wasn't looking at the photographs. He looked instead at Felicity, his eyes narrowed speculatively.
" You took these?"
"Yes, my… my father taught me how," she said, rushing on when she saw his eyes harden again. "Some people think they're pretty good. I'm pleased with them myself." Felicity gave him a tentative smile and reached out to slide the top photograph out of the way. "And this is Mr. Logan, of course," she said, pointing to the next picture.
Finally, Maxwell looked down at the pictures. He studied the one of Joshua and then picked it up to get a closer look. "When was this taken?" he asked, peering suspiciously at Josh over the top of the picture.
"That… that was the day Mr. Logan… the day he proposed to me," Felicity stammered as she recalled her own reaction upon seeing Joshua's expression in that picture for the first time. Remembering what else had happened the day she took that photograph, she felt her cheeks grow hot, but fortunately, her grandfather was not looking at her.
"I should hope he did," Maxwell remarked acerbically to Josh, who glared back defiantly. Once more the two men engaged in a silent battle of wills, which ended when Maxwell finally laid down the photograph and picked up the next one. "And who is this?" he asked with great interest.
"That's our neighbor, Mrs. Delano," Felicity explained. For the next half hour, she gave him a running account of their life in Texas as revealed in the photographs. After a while, even Richard moved closer so he could see them, too.
"These are really very good," Maxwell commented thoughtfully as he flipped back through the pictures, stopping every now and then to examine one more closely. "My granddaughter is very clever, isn't she, Richard?"
"Yes, very," Richard agreed, giving Joshua a look that was almost accusatory.
Felicity wondered what that look meant, but before she could decide, her grandfather asked her, "May I keep these for a while?"
"You can keep them forever," Felicity assured him. "I told you, they're my gift to you."
He gave her a charming smile that made her think of Richard's. "Of course, I'd like them better if there were more pictures of you in here."
"It's hard to take a picture of the photographer," she told him with a laugh.
For just an instant his eyes clouded. "You have her laugh, too," he murmured, but then he brightened again. "Well, I've kept you long enough. You'll be tired from your trip and you'll want to get settled in your room. I imagine Bellwood has had your luggage delivered and unpacked by now. Hastings won't show you where to go."
Josh and Felicity rose. "Will we see you at supper?" she asked.
"No." He shook his head regretfully. "I have a difficult time with the stairs nowadays. But come and see me again afterward, will you?"
"Yes, of course I will," she promised, and then, impulsively-much the same way she had with Mr. Gordon-she bent down and kissed her grandfather's sunken cheek. "I'm awfully glad I came," she whispered.
"So am I," Maxwell whispered back, his eyes suspiciously moist. Then he turned to Josh. "You're a very lucky man," he said gruffly, extending his hand.
"I know," Josh replied, easily reading Maxwell's envy. All his money could not buy him Felicity. Or at least Josh hoped it couldn't.
When Josh and Felicity were gone, Richard turned to his uncle. The old man was obviously smitten with the girl, but there was still the matter of her marriage to Logan. "Well, what do you think?" he asked.
Henry Maxwell sat staring thoughtfully at the door, tapping one index finger on his lower lip. "She's a lovely girl," he said slowly, and then his expression turned cunning. "Get Gordon over here right away. I want to ask him a few questions."
"About Logan," Richard guessed.
"That and some other things. And find out who makes Isabel's clothes and get them over here tomorrow morning, first thing. The poor child can't go out in public looking like that. Oh, and bring me some writing paper. I want to send a note to Alexander Evans," Maxwell added.