His Lady Midnight (20 page)

She looked at him and saw his taut smile. Hoping she was saying the right thing to go along with whatever he planned to say, she asked, “What is odd?”

“Miss Raymond should know why I have not called on her.” He faced his brother again. “I had no reason to visit her to save you from your own folly when you were involved in fisticuffs in daisyville.”

“Until Phoebe gave her a look-in?”

Phoebe saw Carr watching her closely, so she gave him her most brilliant smile. “Miss Raymond,” she said, keeping her voice light, although her heart ached, “was an excellent hostess when she invited me in to escape the storm.”

“She does have
that
reputation.” Carr laughed again.

“Carr, you should recall yourself.” Galen set himself on his feet. “You are speaking to a lady, not one of your convenients. Phoebe is trying to be gracious about a most ungracious situation.”

Laughing as she reached for a cup for herself, Phoebe said, “But Miss Raymond was also most gracious. She went out of her way to protect my reputation after she realized I was not interested in the opportunity to work for her.”

Galen's laugh echoed off the ceiling, but she saw anger still darkened his eyes as he sat again. “Did you accept?”

“She intimated that she believed I could do quite well.” Her smile became sincere. “I have never thought of myself as a businesswoman, so that was a compliment.”

When Carr muttered something, she adroitly changed the subject. He said little at first, and she guessed he was vexed that she had not shattered into tears at his insinuations.

Trying to clear her mind, Phoebe leaned back in her chair as Galen talked to his brother about the gathering at the duchess's house the next night. She rocked her cup and watched the tea swirl within it. A hand over hers caused her to look up to see Galen smiling at her. With a smile of her own, she said, “I must own that it is good to be …”

“Home?” When she lowered her eyes, he reached to tip her face up toward him.

She drew back before Carr could make some sort of inflammatory comment. Coming to her feet, she said, “I bid you gentlemen a good evening. No doubt Carr wishes to get cleaned up from his adventures, and I believe I shall bring this exciting day to an end.”

“Phoebe …” She was astonished when Galen came to his feet and faced her. She clasped her hands as her fragile smile vanished. How she longed to wrap her arms around him and delight in the rapture he offered.

“Shall we have a walk in the garden before retiring?” Galen asked.

“It is so late,” she hedged. She fought her wayward heart, which urged her to forget the pangs of her conscience and take this chance to be with him … alone. “I have nothing to put over my shoulders.”

“Both problems are easily solved, my dear,” he said, holding out his hand. “You had a long nap this afternoon, so you cannot be tired.” He strode to the bellpull. When Vogel appeared almost instantly, Galen added, “Please bring Lady Phoebe's paisley shawl.”

Vogel nodded before going back out into the hall.

“How did you know I had a paisley shawl?” Phoebe asked.

“All ladies have a paisley shawl.” Galen laughed heartily. He was facing her, so his brother could not see how he flinched with pain at the motion. “Carr, excuse us. I cannot resist discovering how the moon glistens off Phoebe's hair.”

She used the same light tone he had, wondering if he had to strain to make it sound genuine as she did. “You are a charmer, Galen Townsend.”

“I try, but you see through my ploys.” He took her shawl from Vogel and placed it over her shoulders.

“Galen,” Carr said as Galen led her toward the doors at the back of the room.

“Yes?”

Phoebe watched as Galen turned and the brothers locked gazes. If some unspoken message passed between them, she was not privy to it.

“I thought we were going to raise a cloud with some of those excellent cigars I brought from Town, Galen,” Carr said.

“Damn,” Galen muttered. “Too many people in this house.”

“There are just the three of us,” she said as softly.

“Which is one too many.” He raised his voice so his brother could hear. “Even raising a cloud will not lessen the stench of your clothes, Carr. Why don't you clean yourself and we will light those cigars when I get back?”

Carr's scowl deepened, but he nodded.

Galen put his finger to his lips when she started to speak as they crossed the terrace toward the gardens that were sleeping in the shadows. She nodded, although she was unsure what he wanted to keep her from saying.

Looking at the city on either side of the river, Phoebe took a deep breath of the damp air, which was clean of odors. From the distance came the call of a watchman announcing all was well. The jangle of harness and the clang of horses' hooves rang clearly through the night.

He slipped his fingers through hers as they walked from the thick shadows beneath one tree to the next. She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing until they reached a bench set on a knoll overlooking the river. No houses blocked the view of the river and the Abbey beyond it.

“I like this spot,” he whispered. “It reminds me of a spot at Townsend Hall where Carr and I used to play when we were children. We would go there with our nurse and spend hours looking up at the star-strewn velvet of the night sky.”

“My father often took me out to see the stars at Brackenton Park. He said there might come a time when I would need to find my way by following the stars.” She shook her head. “How long ago that seems. I never would have imagined how my life would unfold.”

“And that you would spend the afternoon in a brothel?”

She laughed. “That is not what I meant, but it is also quite true.”

“What is it about you that urges me to share such silly, unimportant details of my childhood?”

She hesitated. To speak the truth of how she longed to be familiar with everything about him would mean owning—to herself and to him—that she was in love with him. “Mayhap because you want to think about when times were simple and all troubles could be healed with an extra dessert.”

He leaned against the tree and crossed his arms on his chest. “As you do?”

“As I wish I could.”

“If you believe that, then why are you so distrustful of everyone?”

With a sigh, she went to sit on the marble bench. When he sat beside her, she knew she must be honest. “I do not want to endanger anyone else in the life I have chosen.”

“So you keep everyone far from you?”

“Yes.”

Slipping his arm around her shoulder, he brought her back against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and his mouth brushed against her ear, flinging a shiver of anticipation through her. “But, Phoebe, I do not want to be far from you. I would like to hold you very, very close.”

Trying to sound as if she were joking, she asked, “Why should I give to you for free, Lord Townsend, what I was offered money for today?”

“You would never be a good harlot.” His voice remained serious.

“And why not? Miss Raymond was anxious to hire me.”

He stroked her cheek. “She saw only your beauty, which a man would pay high to possess. However, you could not hold yourself in abeyance as a harlot must.”

“I don't understand.”

“They sell only their bodies. When I hold you, you offer all of yourself. With you, there is no dividing line. You must give all or nothing.” He hesitated, before adding quietly, “That is the same as you expect in return, isn't it?”

“Galen, I—”

“No, don't say it.” Coming to his feet, he offered his hand. “I think we should return to the house.”

“We cannot pretend this conversation did not happen. Or the conversation in the parlor never took place.” She grasped his hand with both of hers. “Carr's discovery of where I was seemed to come too easily.”

“I know. We have many friends in Bath, for our family has visited here often since we were children.”

“So why did he guess I was at Miss Raymond's house?”

“That is something I need to discover for myself.”

She shivered, although the night was still warm. “If he happened to see me go into the house, others may have as well.”

“He must have been outside of Bath when you were caught in the storm.”

“This makes no sense.”

“I agree.” He led her through the doors to the parlor, which was empty. Carr must still be ridding himself of his filthy clothes. “I intend to find out straightaway what he knows and how.”

“And why.”

“Why?” He faced her. “Yes, I need to know that as well. I expect he will tell me … eventually.” Taking her hands, he folded them between his and pressed them over his heart. “Mayhap you will trust me eventually as well.”

“I do trust you.”

“You do?” His astonishment unsettled her even more.

Drawing her hands out of his, she whispered, “I trust you, but—”

“You don't trust yourself?” His smile became cool. “That is too pat an answer, I fear.”

“'Twas your answer. Not mine.”

“And what is your answer, Phoebe?”

“I trust you,” she said, knowing she must be honest as she had not in so long, “but I do not trust those who would wish to halt me from helping those I help. They would take any opportunity to destroy my allies along with me.”

“You could have asked me if I was willing to take that risk.”

“No, I could not.” She stepped back from him, then leaned forward and steered his mouth to hers. This kiss, unlike the one in the garden, came from desperation. She wanted to savor this sweet rapture while she could. As his arms came up to enfold her, she edged away. “Good night, Galen.”

“It could be, my dear.”

For the length of a single heartbeat, she almost gave into the beseeching of her heart. Serendipity had brought Galen into her life, and she would be foolish to throw away this happiness he brought to her.

But she was a fool. She had owned to that the night she first went to the Pool and paid to have Jasper's brother freed from the ship sailing to Australia. When she rushed away out into the corridor, she heard the rattle of a glass decanter behind her in the parlor. Brandy might offer solace to Galen who had discovered she could never be his, but she had only her silly promise to help others to offer her comfort tonight.

It no longer was enough.

Fourteen

The house was quiet when Phoebe walked out of her bedchamber into the twilight-lit hallway. All day, she could have believed she was the only one in Thistlewood Cottage. Even Mrs. Boyd had been subdued, going about her chores without her normal cheerful singing and prattle.

Just as her house was on Grosvenor Square on the days after she returned from the Pool.

Why had she never noticed how disquieting this silence was? It crawled under her skin and sent a vexing pulse along her as if someone she could not see stood too close. She was aware of everything and everyone, but her thoughts wandered and she nearly walked into a footman who was carrying an armload of blankets from the laundry to the storage chests. Apologizing, she hurried toward the front door. Her fan, tied to her wrist with a bright blue ribbon, threatened to fly away on every step.

She could not escape the one thought that had haunted her all day. In the back of the cupboard in her bedchamber, her bag was packed with all she would need when she took the mail coach back to London tomorrow morning. The rest of her clothes would have to be returned later, because she could not pack them without revealing her plan.

Last night had forced her to make this decision she had wanted to postpone. In Galen's arms, she had been ready to set aside everything else to savor his touch. She could not while she was obligated to continue her work as Lady Midnight.

The note she had received this morning from her butler Johnson had been terse, but she had learned to read the meaning in the words that seemed so commonplace. Somehow, Jasper had found out where she was. That did not surprise her, because Jasper had ways of gaining information that amazed her. However, if her assistant could learn so quickly that she was here at Thistlewood Cottage, others might as well. Then her tale of coming down from London more than a week ago would fall apart and the truth might be revealed.

A ship was sailing out of the Pool at the beginning of next week. On it was scheduled to be a young woman who had been falsely accused of robbery by a lord when she had turned down his offer of becoming his mistress. The young woman was Jasper's brother's betrothed, and Jasper was desperate to rescue her.

Although her assistant would never ask her to risk herself for this woman, Phoebe must. Jasper could have been killed during their last visit to the docks. She owed him this duty, and she did not want to fail him.

After that … Phoebe faltered as she realized that she wanted to be done with this conspiracy. The recent days with Galen had revealed how she longed to reclaim her own life, which had been set aside after her father's death and the beginning of her rescue work.

All thoughts of her responsibilities vanished when Phoebe saw Carr Townsend standing alone by the door in the foyer. Dash it! Why hadn't she paused to realize that he might be here before Galen was? Raising her chin, she kept her steps even as she crossed the foyer.

He took her hand and bowed over it. When he would have brought her fingers to his lips, she withdrew it not too gently. He frowned, but she did not let her expression waver as she stared at the ruddy mark on his cheek, his souvenir of the milling he had suffered last night.

“I see you are going to parade my grandmother's rubies at the duchess's assembly, so that everyone might know that Galen bestowed them upon you in return for whatever favors you have done for him.”

“I have done him no favors. All the kindnesses have been from him.”