The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (18 page)

She was soon dressed in one of her new day gowns, and her hair tidied. Within ten minutes, Phoebe entered the morning room, pleased to see her aunt in conversation with Marcus.

Her sisters were right, she had to make up her mind whether she would marry him or not and the only way to decide was to spend more time with him.

They passed the next hour discussing his time in the West Indies, including some of his work for the government, then moved on to issues both social and political. Uncle Henry joined them not long into their discussion and a lively debate ensued, with her uncle taking the contrary positions to spur the conversation.

Phoebe found that she and Marcus were so much in accord in their views on the issues, she was beginning to feel perfectly at ease with him. The conversation continued over the luncheon table.

“Finley, I have seen your interest in politics,” Uncle Henry said shrewdly. “Where do you stand? Your family has traditionally been more conservative than some of us.”

Before Marcus could answer, Phoebe said, “Uncle Henry, Lord Marcus’s views are very forward thinking. Even more so than views I espouse.”

Why had she felt the need to answer for him? Was she trying to protect Marcus and from what? He was doing quite well without her help.

Marcus glanced at her, his eyes warm. “Indeed, sir, I’ve found myself in concert with most of Lady Phoebe’s ideas concerning, for example, the raising of children.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Daughters especially.”

A slight bit of heat crept into Phoebe’s face. He did that on purpose. This blushing would have to stop.

Uncle Henry asked, “Has Phoebe told you about the schools she formed for the children on Cranbourne’s estates?”

“No.” Marcus turned to her. “What kind of schools?”

“Some are for the younger children, to give them a basic education.” Phoebe folded and refolded her serviette. What would he think about her schools? “Others are to help train the older ones, before they are apprenticed. Or, in the case of those who will remain on the farms, the classes give them information concerning agriculture.”

“When did you begin them?” Marcus asked.

He seemed genuinely curious, and Phoebe relaxed. “Not long after I took over the house,” she replied. “I’d already begun to learn about estate management when—when my parents died. Geoffrey, my brother, bade me continue and agreed to implement my suggestions.”

She plucked a grape from the bunch on the table. “We also take local children if there is no school in the area. I’ve been very pleased with their success.”

Phoebe couldn’t keep the sadness from her tone, when she continued, “I planned to begin an orphan asylum, then Geoffrey married, and it would not have been proper for me to carry on in my role at the Place.”

Marcus’s gaze caught hers and was so sympathetic it caused her breathing to quicken.

“When I marry,” he said, “I shall expect my wife to propose just such ideas as you have.”

Even with Uncle Henry and Aunt Ester present, Marcus lowered his voice and spoke just to her. “I promise you I’d welcome not only the ideas, but encourage
my wife
to implement them as well, as example to
our
daughters and
our
sons.”

Phoebe’s blood seemed to roar in her ears. How dare he be so bold with her aunt and uncle looking on? “Would you indeed, my lord? You must be expecting to marry a spirited lady.”

Marcus lifted his glass of wine to her. “I plan to marry a valiant lady. A lady with spirit, daring, and courage.”

He held Phoebe’s eyes for a few more moments. “Will you drive with me this afternoon at five o’clock?”

The fashionable hour
. Her first impulse was to say no, but before Phoebe could deny him, Uncle Henry interrupted.

“An excellent idea, my dear. You will be able to assess Lord Marcus’s driving abilities.”

Chapter Twelve

R
ather than returning straight back to Dunwood House, Marcus entered the small park in the square. He thought over Fairport’s offer of assistance. To-day was a perfect example of his halting progress. She’d seemed happy and at ease with him and then pulled back from taking the next step.

Marcus arrived at St. Eth House that afternoon with his usual promptitude and was gratified to see Phoebe descending the stairs as Ferguson admitted him. She was so beautiful she took Marcus’s breath away. For eight long years, he’d waited for moments like this.

“Shall we be off?” he asked, taking the hand she’d offered. “I know you don’t like keeping the horses waiting any more than do I.”

“Yes, let’s.” As they left the house, she grinned.

Marcus was relieved to see the smile reached her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to drive with him, though St. Eth’s intervention had left her with little choice but to accept. The extra persuasion was a godsend. Marcus liked his male in-laws already.

After handing Phoebe into his curricle, Marcus went to the other side and climbed up. Covey was very properly on the perch in back.

About a block from the Park, Phoebe said, “I admire your bays. Very sweet goers.”

Marcus had to make a concerted effort to pay attention to his horses and not her. “High praise, indeed, coming from you. I like my pair very well, but they don’t compare to your blacks.”

Her eyes shone with pride. “Ah, well, I was very fortunate to find them.”

“So I’ve heard. Rumor has it that there were quite a few gentlemen who wanted them.”

He’d asked Rutherford what he knew about Phoebe’s team and was told that she had such a good reputation regarding horseflesh that Marbury, their former owner, had written Phoebe’s brother asking if Phoebe would be interested in buying them. Marbury gave them to her for a good price as well.

Phoebe shrugged. “I must have got there first. You’re an excellent whip. Have you thought about joining the Four-Horse Club?”

“I haven’t had a chance to think about anything other than the estate and politics since I’ve been back.”
And you
, he wanted to say but kept the thought to himself. “I’ve also tried to spend time with Arthur.”

Phoebe glanced at Marcus with concern in her face. “It must be very sad to know one’s brother is dying.”

“It is,” Marcus acknowledged. “But we’re only allowed to be sad when we’re not around Arthur. He’s a great gun. Always cheerful and rallying us. The only thing that pulls him down is knowing he’ll not see his daughters grow up, but Arthur won’t let them pine. He spends as much time with them as possible and teaches them all manner of things that Priddy, their governess, cannot. He’s made my father and me promise we’ll continue.”

Marcus flashed a glance at her. “I think he’s the reason I’ve become so much more an advocate of women’s rights than ever before. Unfortunately, my father is taking his time coming around. You’ll like my nieces. They’re sharp, intelligent girls, full of pluck. Arthur adores them. Losing him will devastate them.” Thinking of his brother’s death threatened to overwhelm Marcus. “I shall miss him.”

Phoebe put her hand on his arm. “Tell me where your nieces live.”

He kept an eye on the traffic as they entered the Park. “At Charteries, our principal estate in Sussex. That’s where Arthur is, and Mother spends most of her time there as well.”

“How is it that your main estate has a different name?”

That was a good question, and one not many people asked. He was glad Phoebe did. “Our original title is Viscomt du Charteries. The marquisate is only a couple of hundred years old. No one could bring themselves to change the estate’s name. There is a Dunwood Hall, which is in the north, but it’s a minor property compared with Charteries.”

Phoebe nodded. “I like the name, Charteries. I can see why one wouldn’t want to change it. Evesham, I take it, was the Earldom?”

Of course she’d figure it out quickly. “We came up through the ranks as it were.”

Marcus turned onto Rotten Row, checking his pace to the slower traffic. As they made their way around the carriage path, he noticed that he and Phoebe were attracting the attention of many older ladies, leaders of the
ton
, whose barouches and landaus were pulled up on the verge. Some waved, others inclined their heads.

Phoebe and Marcus returned their greetings. She identified for him people he either didn’t know or recognize.

The younger gentlemen and ladies strolling on the side of the path took note as well.

Marcus was hailed by Viscount Beaumont.

As Marcus pulled alongside to greet his friend, Robert was staring at Phoebe. He shot Marcus a sharp look and waited.

What the devil was Robert about? Marcus heaved a sigh and with poor grace, said, “Yes, all right. Lady Phoebe, please allow me to present Robert, Viscount Beaumont. Beaumont, Lady Phoebe Stanhope.” Marcus had no intention of allowing Robert to interrupt his time with Phoebe. “Now that you’ve had your introduction, Robert, you may move along. She’s not your type. Don’t even think about asking her to walk with you because it ain’t going to happen.”

Phoebe’s eyes sparkled with mirth. Smiling graciously at Robert, she extended her hand.

Ignoring Marcus, Robert took her hand and bowed extravagantly over it. “Lady Phoebe, I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” he said seductively, before directing his attention back to Marcus. “What a paltry fellow you are, Finley. I can’t believe you stole the march on me. I saw her first.”

Glancing briefly at Phoebe, Marcus saw she was enjoying their exchange of insults and he didn’t want to disappoint.

He raised his quizzing glass to observe his friend, something Robert hated, and asked in a languid drawl, “Beaumont, do you really wish to expose yourself to Lady Phoebe?”

“Finley,” Robert retorted, “I have never been so insulted. I thought you my friend. First you introduce me to a beautiful lady, and then you wave me away as if I am of no account. I am not quite nobody you know.”

He turned his attention back to Phoebe. “Lady Phoebe, I ask you, is this fair of him? Shall you allow
him
to dictate to
you?
Why have I not met you before?”

Delightedly, Phoebe laughed and clapped her hands.

Marcus made a point of scowling. “
You
haven’t met her, Beaumont, because
you
don’t frequent the types of affairs that
Ladies
attend. Lady Phoebe, allow me to tell you that an acquaintance with Lord Beaumont will not at all add to your consequence. Ham-handed, my dear, that’s what he is. You would not wish to be seen driving with him.”

“Ham-handed am I?” Robert said indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m a member of the Four-Horse Club.”

Marcus raised a brow. “Someone must have taken sympathy on you.”

He turned the conversation away from Phoebe. Though Robert was probably harmless in this instance, there was no point in taking any chances. “What are you doing here, Robert? I’ve never known you to do the pretty in the Park. Decided to give yourself over to the dowagers and eligible young ladies?”

“If it comes to that,” Robert spouted. “I’ve not seen you here before either. By the way, put that deemed quizzing glass away. You know I don’t like ’em. I was attending my grandmother and have just now escaped,” Robert said with brutal honesty. “Come now, have mercy on me, Marcus. Make Covey there come down, and take me up behind you. I need to leave before anyone else sees me.”

Marcus grinned. The devil he would. He’d be damned if Beaumont was going to get in his curricle with Phoebe there. “If you think I’ll give you an opportunity to flirt with Lady Phoebe, you must be all about in your head. Now we’ve got to be going as we’re holding up traffic.”

He waved to Lord Beaumont and drove off.

Phoebe giggled. “You were very hard on Lord Beaumont.” “Not at all,” Marcus answered amiably. “He’s one of my oldest friends. Were he in my place, he would have done the same to me. Although I probably do owe him a favor. I would not have known you were in Littleton if he hadn’t seen you talking to the landlord.”

Phoebe stopped giggling and asked with interest, “Did he?”

Marcus gave a sidelong glance. “Oh, yes, and he made a point to find out your name. When he described you,
I
knew in an instant it was you.”

She was looking forward, deep in thought. “That was how you knew to rescue me.”

Despite his attempt to remain calm, his voice was harsh. “Yes, when I heard that young fool at your door, knowing at the very least he was disturbing your sleep, and at the worst frightening you, I couldn’t stand it.”

Marcus took a large breath. “He reminded me so much of myself at that age I wanted to drag him away and give him a bit of home brew. As if I could punish myself by punishing him.”

Phoebe’s eyes were wide. “What did you do with him?”

“I took him down the stairs and out the door and told an ostler not to allow the fellow back into the inn. He was staying there, coincidentally.”

“The ostler obeyed you?” she asked, fascinated.

Marcus tightened his jaw. “Of course. I am rather used to being obeyed. Why does that seem strange to you?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. I suppose because you are never forceful around me.”

“Would it help if I was?”