The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (22 page)

Phoebe told her about Lord Beaumont. “Anna, I have never been so diverted. They have been friends for years, and it is so interesting to watch how men treat their favorite chums.” She shook her head, remembering. “They are quite harsh with one another. If we hadn’t been in the Park during the fashionable hour I would have gone into whoops.”

Anna nodded. “Oh, I know what you mean. My brother and Lord Rutherford were forever saying the most awful things to one another, and they were fast friends. Men can be so different. Do you drive again with Lord Marcus?”

Phoebe grinned. “Yes, he is to drive me around the Park again this afternoon.”

“Oh, how pleased I am for you, Phoebe,” Anna said. “Isn’t this quite the first time you’ve allowed yourself to be driven at the fashionable hour? I have never seen you, but you are driving.”

Phoebe stared at Anna. Was she right? When was the last time a gentleman drove her? “Do you know, I’ve never thought of it? It is the first time I’ve allowed a gentleman to drive me. But, tell me,
are
there ladies setting their caps at Lord Marcus?”

Anna looked at Phoebe as if she’d lost her mind. “Indeed they are. He’s quite eligible you know.”

“Oh?” She’d been so immersed in her own feelings she’d never thought that any other lady was interested in him. And now people were noticing the attention he was paying her. “I didn’t realize . . .”

Anna took her hand. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I just never expected to attract so much attention.” Panic seized her.
Had
he been setting a trap? That would have been just like his old self. She had to get this courtship under control.

Chapter Fourteen

P
hoebe stared at Anna.

“I have never known you to be such a pea goose!” Anna rebuked. “Lord Marcus Finley is the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart this Season.”

None of this made sense. She’d admit he was well looking. Well, in all fairness, more than that, and was soon to be heir to a marquisate, but... “I wonder why he’s so eligible.”

Anna heaved a sigh and shook her head. “That’s easy. Aside from his looks and prospects, he dresses fashionably, has a large personal fortune.” She paused and glanced at Phoebe. “He has a quality about him. You should hear the romantic stories that are being put about concerning his time in the West Indies. He’s every lady’s current hero. A live Minerva Press hero.”

Phoebe opened her eyes wide. “I’ve never thought about him that way. I didn’t even know he had a personal fortune.”

He did mention he’d been wealthy, but she thought . . . what had she thought?

“Oh dear, yes, why I’ve been told it is in the neighborhood of between forty to fifty thousand pounds a year.”

Phoebe felt as if her breath had been taken away. “But, I don’t understand . . .” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. “I’ve never seen any other ladies try to draw his attention.”

Anna’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “That is because he will look at no one but you. Every time he enters a room, he immediately searches for you, pretending blindness to all others until he’s by your side. I cannot tell you the number of ladies who are waiting for you to knock him down so they’ll have a chance.”

Phoebe glanced around to insure no one was close and smiled. “Actually, I did knock him down once many years ago.”

“Well, he must be the only one who didn’t give up on you afterward,” Anna replied sagely. “With you off the Marriage Mart, the rest of us will have more opportunity with the gentlemen left over. With Lord Marcus fixing his attentions, I know why I have been able to command so much of Lord Rutherford’s time lately.”

“Anna, what a bouncer!” Phoebe exclaimed. “You know very well Rutherford gave up on me long ago. He told me he could not marry a lady with a more punishing right than his.”

Miss Marsh frowned. “Be that as it may, he has used you as an excuse for too long. One he will not have anymore, should you marry Lord Marcus.”

Phoebe gave her friend a knowing look. “This Season promises to be more interesting than I first thought.”

Lightly shrugging, Anna replied, “I don’t know about that. Rutherford and I have known each other forever. If he has, indeed, decided to turn his attention to me, after having ignored me for so long, he will find he must earn the privilege.”

Phoebe asked softly, “Have you loved him very long?”

Anna started to throw up her hands and stopped, as if remembering where she was. “Only all my life. I used to try to follow my brother Harry and him when I was just in pigtails.”

Anna’s breath hitched and Phoebe remembered when her family had received word of Harry Marsh’s death. He’d been killed in Badajoz during the Peninsular War. Anna’s family’s property was not entailed, and whomever she married would eventually own it.

“All funning aside,” Anna said, “I need to know that he wants me for myself, and not for the property.”

Phoebe knew how her friend felt. “Anna, you will know in your heart if he is sincere or not. But Rutherford, being Rutherford, it may take some time.”

“I know, and I have time.” Anna leaned toward Phoebe. “I don’t need to marry to please anyone but myself. I take my example from you, my dear friend.”

Phoebe laughed. “He’ll have a hard road indeed. You know, Anna, if there is anything I can do to help, just ask.”

“Yes, I will.” She smiled. “But you will have a wedding to plan and a husband to care for and . . .”

“Lord Marcus hasn’t offered yet.”
He told me weeks ago he wanted to marry me, but he’s never proposed.
“And, I am still not yet sure what my answer will be if he does ask.”

“He will. Can you doubt it? The man is besotted.” Anna gave Phoebe a knowing look. “If you do, you have not seen the way he gazes at you. And—well, never mind. It will all work out.”

He hadn’t told her he loved her recently. Would he renew his offer, and what would be her response? If only she could trust him.

That afternoon at five o’clock, Marcus glanced up as Phoebe descended the stairs. She was very fetching in a new carriage gown of royal blue with matching pelisse and a small hat with a feather that curled around her ear.

“How do you contrive to look more beautiful every time I see you?”

Phoebe smiled, but retorted, “Very pretty talking, my lord. You should know I don’t like such flummery.”

Taking her hand, he smiled into her eyes. “You wrong me, milady. Was a knight-errant ever so cruelly treated?” Marcus raised her hand, turned it over, and placed a kiss on her wrist. Phoebe blushed charmingly, just as he’d intended.

Once in the Park, he moved his curricle into the line of carriages crowding the path, and was pleased to note he and Phoebe were attracting even more attention than previously. They were halfway around their first circuit when they were hailed from a carriage pulled up onto the verge.

Giving Phoebe a speaking look, Marcus pulled his curricle to a halt beside the landau and greeted his mother and Lady Bellamny. Lately, his mother had not been in the way of joining the afternoon promenade and he wondered why she was doing so now.

“Mamma, Lady Bellamny, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Nor, Marcus thought, did he want to. He wasn’t sure of Phoebe and didn’t want to scare her off or raise his mother’s hopes.

“Mamma, I believe you’ve met Lady Phoebe.”

“Yes, of course, Marcus, your sister
is
married to her brother.”

Lady Dunwood addressed Phoebe. “My dear, I am very happy to see you again.”

Marcus tried to stifle a groan. His mother glanced at him with narrowed eyes before turning back to Phoebe and smiling. “You are so far away. I cannot even shake your hand, my dear. Please come join us for a little. Marcus, help Lady Phoebe down. You may take a turn and fetch her when you come back around.”

Even though Phoebe wished it, there was no avoiding this meeting. With good grace, Phoebe smiled politely at the two older women.

Once Marcus was gone, Lady Dunwood’s conversation focused on Phoebe’s life and views, in which she seemed genuinely interested.

Lady Bellamny, however, whom Phoebe had known since she was a child, was as disconcerting as ever. She was the perfect foil for Marcus’s mother.

Taking advantage of their long relations, Lady Bellamny
did
ask her about Marcus, offering her advice and opinions. Between the two of them, Phoebe felt artfully interrogated.

She was relieved when Marcus maneuvered his curricle beside the landau. Saying all that was proper to the ladies and bidding them adieu, Phoebe changed carriages.

“I returned as soon as I could,” Marcus said in apology. “I had trouble passing two landaus—one had pulled to the side, the other hadn’t. They gave me such a look when I asked to pass.”

“Your mother and Lady Bellamny probably planned it,” Phoebe replied cynically.

His brow creased with worry. “Was it that bad?”

Phoebe pulled a face. “Not any worse than my sisters. Though if I had to lay a wager between your mother and Lady Bellamny against Wellington’s Intelligencers, as far as interrogation skills, I would probably back the ladies.”

He gave a low bark of laughter. “You poor thing.”

Glancing at him, Phoebe replied, “Marcus, your mother is very lovely and astute. Lady Bellamny is, well, Lady Bellamny. She always could put me out of countenance. I just pray that they don’t conspire with my sister, Hester. Hester ought to have run the Inquisition.”

“I am sorry they put you through this on my account.”

Phoebe mustered a tight smile. “It was not as bad as it could have been. Indeed, your mother is quite charming, and I am glad to have furthered my acquaintance with her. If you haven’t spoken with her concerning our courtship, she no doubt wants to know what is between us.”

The thrum of brittle tension running through Phoebe was palpable; she reminded him of a high-strung thoroughbred, ready to bolt, and he prayed his mother and Lady Bellamny’s collective curiosity had not set him back.

He covered Phoebe’s hands with one of his. “I’ll take you back to St. Eth House before anyone else decides to try to figure out what is going on.”

Phoebe smiled gratefully. “Thank you, and thank you for not pressuring me. Most men would have done so by now. Especially after . . .”

They’d come to a brief stop in the traffic. Marcus captured her gaze and held it. “I will not use what is between us against you. I will not allow you to do anything that would stop you from marrying another man, should you decide you cannot marry me.”

Phoebe’s tone was a hoarse whisper. “Thank you. You are being very generous. I could not ask for more.”

He’d kept his tone even and prayed she understood what it cost him to say those words. Just the thought of her marrying anyone else sent panic coursing through him. Did she even suspect that she held his heart in her small hands?

Rather than taking Phoebe straight back to St. Eth House, Marcus drove them out of the Park and around the streets until they were able to converse and joke normally again. When he escorted Phoebe to her door, he bowed. “I’ll see you at eight. Your uncle invited me to dine with you and attend the Billingleys’ ball in your company.”

Her eyes widened. “He did? After this morning, I am surprised he didn’t forbid me to see you. I played least in sight until I left to go shopping with my aunt and sisters.”

Marcus grinned ruefully, but could share the jest with her. “Your uncle made the invitation and then raked me down. He blamed the whole on me.
You
he held completely innocent.”

“I don’t believe it.” Phoebe made a disgusted face. “
I,
not responsible for my own behavior? He has always said I was quite up to snuff.”

Marcus sat up straighter in mock consequence. “Ah, yes, but you have the benefit of being innocent of courtship. Whereas
I,
apparently, am not.”

He shot her a glance. “Although, other than you, he suspects me of having courted, I assure you I have not the foggiest idea.
You
, on the other hand”—the ends of his lips curved up—“ ‘although quite up to snuff in the usual way, have allowed your wits to go begging’ when it comes to us.”

“Uncle Henry did not say that?” she said, insulted.

“He did indeed, or something very like it. So, my love, I am the one to be held responsible if anything untoward occurs.”

“What does he think could possibly happen?”

Marcus raised his brow and waited for her to remember this morning.

“Oh.” Phoebe looked ridiculously guilty.

“Precisely.”

She frowned. “Are we not to have breakfast together again?”

He couldn’t help being pleased that she wanted to continue to break her fast with him. If only she’d give him a hint that she wanted to marry him. “Not unless there is a servant in the room and the door is left open.”

Her hand flew to her head. “Oh, Marcus, I don’t understand how I came to be so lost to propriety that I did neither of those things—”

“That, my delight, is what he meant when he said your wits had ‘gone begging.’ ”

Her eyes widened. “What did you call me?”

Somehow, he had to move their courtship forward. He kept his tone even and caught her gaze. “I called you ‘my love’ and ‘my delight. ’ Which is precisely what you are.”