The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (17 page)

Fairport continued, “It appears, on Lord Marcus’s part, he agreed to this wooing and dares not take control, lest she bolts, Lord, what a tangle.”

St. Eth nodded thoughtfully. “I think you’ve hit it on the head. After having attended several party meetings with Lord Marcus and having an acquaintance with him, I’ve seen he is a man of integrity and strong convictions. I’ve been surprised he’s not tried to wrest the reins from Phoebe.”

“We all care for her and want to see her happy. Which I do not think she will be if she becomes a spinster,” Fairport interpolated. “We’ll need to try to move this courtship along. There is one other matter to consider as well.”

St. Eth and John gave him their attention. “Phoebe mentioned to Hermione the possibility of setting up her own household. Phoebe seems to understand she’s too young. Nonetheless, you know what she is once she has an idea floating around in her head.”

Caldecott briefly closed his eyes as if in pain. “No, we cannot have her setting up her own household. She is far too young. As to her remaining single, fond as I am of Phoebe, having to chaperone her during the Season for the next few years, doesn’t bear thinking of. She fags me to death.” He took a sip of wine. “We worry about her as well. She needs a man who is up to her weight, but still sympathetic to her causes. Is Lord Marcus the one?”

St. Eth reviewed in his mind what he’d seen and heard of the man since Lord Marcus’s return and nodded. “Yes, I believe he is just the gentleman I would like to see marry Phoebe.”

Fairport glanced at Caldecott and St. Eth. “Right, are we agreed that we’ll assist Finley to get her to the altar?”

Caldecott’s lips thinned. “So long as he is leading her to marriage, I have no objections.”

Edwin turned to St. Eth. “What about you, sir? You are the highest stickler of us all.”

All he wanted was for Phoebe to find the happiness in marriage all of them had found. “It is clear to me Phoebe is in love with him and he with her. I do not want her to pass up her chance of marriage and children.”

St. Eth stood and raised his glass. “Let’s make it happen, gentlemen.”

Edwin rose. “I’ll go round to Dunwood House after luncheon.”

“Fairport, this is a pleasant surprise,” Marcus greeted him as his guest was shown into his private study. “Please have a seat. Would you like a brandy or a wine?”

Fairport shook his hand. “It is a little early for brandy, but a wine wouldn’t go amiss.”

After handing him a glass, Marcus took one for himself and wondered what this visit was about. They sat and discussed Arthur for a few minutes before Edwin came to the point. “I came to discuss Phoebe with you.”

Marcus stiffened. The thought that he was going to be warned off her chilled him. “Indeed.”

“Don’t fly up into the boughs with me.” Fairport grinned. “We, my brother-in-law, Caldecott, St. Eth, and I, have decided to offer you our help.”

Marcus’s tension drained only to be replaced by curiosity. This should be interesting. “Help, concerning Phoebe? Why?”

Edwin gazed at him steadily. “We have been given to understand you wish to marry her.”

Returning his look, Marcus had to concede that her family had a right to know what he was about. “My
only
intention is to marry Phoebe.”

“St. Eth has been taking an interest in your courtship.” Fairport regarded Marcus evenly. “It appears to us—feel free to stop me if I have anything wrong—that Phoebe is in charge of this courtship of yours, and, as Caldecott put it, ‘It’s going at a snail’s pace.’ ”

Marcus blew out a frustrated breath. At least he wasn’t the only one who’d had that thought. “That is an extremely accurate description.”

Edwin nodded. “We’ve decided to offer our help in getting the two of you leg-shackled. Just so you understand our motives, we all have a horse in this race.” He edged forward slightly. “If Phoebe doesn’t marry, it will be up to us, and our wives, to chaperone her during the Season. We’re all very fond of Phoebe. None of us, however, relishes having to take her to all her affairs. She is interested in attending most everything, which makes her most exhausting to be around—
and
we don’t want her setting up her own household. The idea has crossed her mind, and she has the means, we’re afraid she might try to do.”

Marcus had been leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed, but Fairport’s last sentence caused him to sit up. “Lady Phoebe couldn’t possibly be thinking of setting up her own house at her age.”

“You’ve been courting the woman for how many weeks? Have you not yet discovered that Phoebe is nothing if not determined?” Fairport raised his brows. “Once she has decided upon a course, it is almost impossible to turn her from it.
In for a penny, in for a pound,
as the adage goes. I am not saying she
has
decided to do it, but the idea has entered her mind, and we don’t want it to bear fruit.”

Marcus covered his face and groaned. “What do you propose?”

After taking a sip of wine, Fairport said, “The first thing to do is to take your courtship out of Phoebe’s hands.
That
is merely a matter of efficiency. Under normal circumstances, she’s a very competent female, reminds me of a general. Nevertheless, she has never been wooed before and doesn’t have the experience to control the matter.” Edwin shot Marcus a glance over the rim of his glass. “Unless, of course, you like the pace at which you are proceeding?”

“Anything but. I’d hoped to have an engagement by now. Instead, I feel as if I am taking two steps forward and one back.” Marcus grimaced. “At this rate, I’ll be lucky to be married sometime next summer. However, my concern in taking more control is that she’ll run shy, then I’ll be back at the beginning.
That
doesn’t bear thinking of.”

“Goes to show how undecided she is. You’ll have to take over with stealth and speed.” Fairport looked up for a moment. “To-day, for example, you will be at a drawing room with her. You’ll have no chance to spirit her off, but you can make a statement by spending your time next to her. Put her hand on your arm and stay there.”

Edwin placed his glass on the table and his elbows on his knees. “Let the
ton
’s gossips know you’re interested and mean to fix her attention. Drive with her in the Park
during the fashionable hour
.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “My brother-in-law’s not much interested in politics. He and his wife generally go to affairs that are purely social in nature. It’s always easy to find places to be alone at one of those events. Caldecott will tell me where and when they plan to take Phoebe with them. I’ll tell you.”

Fairport sat back as though this was a done deal. “Live in her pocket, m’boy. Be with her every chance you get. It’s now the beginning of October. We’d like to have a betrothal announced by the end of October if not sooner.”

A month?
How did they imagine he could manage that? “It’s taken me over three weeks to get this far.”

Edwin smiled slowly. “Use the
Gorgons
of the
ton
to good effect. When they see you’re serious, they’ll be of a mind to help. There’s not a matron in the
ton
, especially those with daughters to settle, who doesn’t want to see Phoebe off the Marriage Mart.”

After sipping his wine, Edwin said, “Bear in mind as well, you are the first gentleman to have come this far with her. The wagers will soon start in the clubs.”

That Marcus knew, but the knowledge didn’t stop him from scowling. “Fairport, have you thought that the idea of my future wife’s name being bandied about in the clubs may not please me?”

Fairport’s smile merely deepened. “Tie her up quickly then, and the problem is solved.”

Later that evening, when Edwin and his wife discussed Marcus and Phoebe, Hermione surprised Edwin by saying, “Hester and I have decided we will attend all the parties at which Phoebe is present. It is too much to leave to Aunt Ester. Phoebe must not be allowed to be alone with Lord Marcus until they are betrothed.”

“
Will
she marry him?” he asked.

“Well, she likes him, likes being with him. Phoebe almost as much as said if he were not Lord Marcus she would marry him. She just needs time to forget what he did when he was young.”

Edwin decided not to tell Hermione what St. Eth, John, and he planned. Now in addition to helping Marcus find opportunities to be alone with Phoebe, they would have to keep their wives from queering their pitch.

Early the next morning, Edwin visited his brother-in-law to inform him what their ladies had planned and what his wife told him of Phoebe’s feelings for Lord Marcus.

“It’s as we suspected,” Caldecott remarked. “As long as she doesn’t think about the past, Phoebe is fine.”

That wasn’t a very helpful remark. “And how do you propose we stop her from thinking?” Edwin asked crossly.

Caldecott grinned. “That will be up to Lord Marcus. St. Eth did say his address was excellent. We must trust in him to carry the day.”

Fairport had been right, Marcus thought in disgust, when he arrived at Lady Thornhill’s drawing room. He’d not spirit Phoebe away in this company. It was all he could do to stay by her side, which he managed somehow. Upon his arrival, feigning blindness to the young ladies and their mothers trying to catch his attention, he went straight to Phoebe. He adroitly maneuvered aside the young man standing next to her and bowed. Taking her hand, Marcus kissed it and placed it on his arm.

Phoebe glanced at him curiously but left her hand where it was.

If he’d not been so focused on his goal, he would have acknowledged that he had a very good time. The conversation was varied and erudite, the other guests and his hostess interesting, and the furnishings unique.

Lady Thornhill favored bright lush fabrics and interesting pieces of furniture she’d brought back from her travels. Lord Thornhill was also present. Marcus noticed the easy way he and his wife related to one another. Frequent touches and glances between them showed them to still be very much in love after many years of marriage. He hoped that Phoebe and he would be like that one day.

After an hour or so, Lady St. Eth signed to Phoebe that she wanted to leave. Marcus stayed by her side as they excused themselves from their group. When they were about half-way to Lady St. Eth, he glanced down at Phoebe. “Shall we drive together to-morrow morning?”

She searched his face before answering. “Yes, if you’d like.”

He delivered her to her aunt then joined his mother, who was conversing with one of the more well-known authors in London.

Returning home later that afternoon, Marcus found a package waiting for him on his desk. Using his penknife, he broke the seal and opened the documents concerning Lord Thaddeus Travenor.

According to his sources, Travenor had a reputation as a brutish man, always in need of money, and not particular as to how he came by it. The only women he’d been associated with were tavern wenches and common prostitutes.

His father had been held to have married far below his station to a very ungenteel woman. Thaddeus had been heir to his cousin, Baron Jonathan Travenor, until that gentleman’s unexpected murder, upon which Thaddeus came into the title.

Despite the current Lord Travenor’s dressing well, no person of quality, upon meeting him, would have thought him of their station.

Well, from what Marcus had witnessed, that was true.

Marcus turned to another report, which informed him that the current Lord Travenor was reported to have been involved in a scheme in the West Indies, five years previously, in which he lost all his funds.

From that time, until he inherited, he was suspected to have been involved in a few robberies, but there was never sufficient proof to bring him to trial.

Marcus remembered what Cranbourne said about Phoebe being held up and wondered if it could have been Travenor.

At any rate, Marcus now knew why Travenor didn’t like him. Travenor must have been involved in the smuggling ring Marcus broke up when he did some work for the Foreign Office. Marcus had systematically hunted down the ships and confiscated the cargo. The backers of the scheme had escaped prison, but were financially devastated.

Should Travenor be one of those men, he was unscrupulous and dangerous. If he wanted to pay Marcus back, Travenor would have no hesitation using Phoebe to do it.

Marcus clenched his fist. He’d kill Travenor if necessary to protect Phoebe. The idea of his love in that blackguard’s clutches sickened him. More than one of the women Travenor had used had been found beaten or dead. No charges had ever been brought.

After Phoebe and Marcus’s drive the next morning, she took a deep breath and turned to him. “Will you come in so that we may continue our conversation?”

When he smiled, her heart jumped.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Ferguson bowed to them, Phoebe glanced back over her shoulder. “I shall be just a few minutes. Ferguson, please show Lord Marcus to the morning room.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Phoebe found a maid. “Sally, find Lady St. Eth and ask her to meet me in the morning room. Oh, and ask Rose to come to me.”

Rose was already in Phoebe’s dressing room when she arrived.

Removing her hat, she said, “Quickly. I must change.”