The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (38 page)

Marcus tried and failed to think of a way out of this. Short of ordering her to obey him, which he had no reliance on her doing, he’d have to tell her. He grabbed her hand and started striding down the corridor. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way. We think Travenor has had a woman in the village getting information from our servants.”

“Like a spy?”

“Yes. To keep track of us as he did in London. Covey discovered new people in the area. The only reason I didn’t mention it was because . . . quite frankly, I forgot.”

“I understand. It’s been a difficult time.” Phoebe had to trot to keep up with him. She’d heard about brothels, and a bawdy house was just another term. Knowing French spies sometimes used men’s carnal needs against them, she was not surprised that the prostitute had easily gained information from some of the male staff. Her stomach flipped, making her feel ill. It wasn’t over; Travenor, or whoever, was just biding his time to strike when she and Marcus were unawares. As they were passing through the stable yard, she called to have her sisters summoned.

When they reached the stables, two grooms and three footmen were on the floor being guarded by some of the other male servants.

Marcus addressed Turner, the head groom. “Have they talked?”

Turner methodically hit his hand with a horsewhip. “They’ll tell, or be sorry for it.”

Marcus stood with his fists on his hips. “I don’t believe we’ll need that.”

He turned to the men on the floor. “One at a time, tell me what you told the woman.”

Shards of light pierced the gloom of the stables, small motes of dust floated in the air. Phoebe stood in the shadow so the men would speak freely, but the silence was thick with tension until one of the footmen finally spoke. “She asked me about who comes and goes, and what time deliveries are made. Am I going to lose my position, my lord?”

Marcus shook his head. “No. You had no way of knowing it wasn’t just curiosity on her part, but there is danger afoot. This woman is part of it. I need all the information, and, if there is a next time, you’ll know not to be so trusting.”

He crouched and talked with the men, questioning them closely about the prostitute and any strangers she associated with. Phoebe finally understood how he’d become so successful. He examined each piece of information and formed a whole. One she was not happy to know existed. Someone, probably Travenor, was making a schedule, and determining the size of the property and house, and they’d been smart about it. Only the local servants, those least likely to suspect anything was amiss, had been approached with the special offer.

Her sisters entered and listened as well. Phoebe half expected them to have their own questions or comments, but the twins remained still, until Hester pulled Phoebe outside.

Phoebe went, but once they’d reached the end of the stables, said, “I wanted to stay to help Marcus.”

Hester gave a small smile. “Phoebe, Marcus is a man, and you have to allow him to be just that.”

Phoebe shook her head. Her sister was wrong. “You don’t understand. We agreed to a partnership.”

“Nevertheless, my dear,” Hermione said, “there are times when Marcus needs to take the lead. He would not be the type of gentleman you wanted to marry if he did not.”

Phoebe regarded her sisters. “But Hermione, you bested the highwaymen.”

“Yes,” she said. “I did what was necessary to save my husband and dependents, but I prefer to allow Edwin to show his strength. No man wants to feel unneeded.”

Phoebe was about to respond when her husband strode up. “Marcus, my love, what will you do now that you know Travenor is here, somewhere?”

Marcus put his arm around her waist and held her possessively. “We’ll question the woman. With any luck, we’ll discover enough to stop any attack. The rest of the servants, as well as my parents and your family, must be informed there is someone gathering information.”

“What is your plan?”

Marcus kissed her temple. “Wait until he strikes. We don’t have enough evidence for a trial in the Lords.” He took her chin between two fingers and tilted up her head. “Remember your promise, you’ll not go outside alone, and you’ll wear your dagger and pistol.”

Phoebe shuddered. Just the idea of Travenor touching her made her skin crawl as if an eel had touched her. Phoebe stepped closer to her husband. “As you wish. I have no desire to land up in that madman’s hands.”

Marcus ushered Phoebe and her sisters inside. “We must gather everyone and alert them to this new danger.”

He left it to Wallace, his father’s butler, to deal with the servants. Once her family and Marcus’s were gathered in the morning room, he took command. His voice was deeper and harder as he explained what had been discovered and pieced together.

Phoebe saw the respect her husband was given.

Even Uncle Henry listened to Marcus and agreed with him, and, although he’d told her he’d been in charge of many men under sometimes difficult circumstances, she’d never seen it or felt it before. Perhaps her sisters were right, Phoebe should learn to allow him to protect her.

Ten days had turned into more than a fortnight, and Phoebe’s courses still had not come. She pressed her hand to her stomach, wanting it to hold a child. Finally, she went to Hermione’s room and knocked.

“Come in.”

Phoebe opened the door and made her way over to the window seat. “May I talk to you about something?”

Hermione put her book down and smiled. “Naturally.”

Phoebe swallowed. “How did you know you were breeding?”

Her sister’s smile broadened. “Well, we are all so regular that Papa told Mamma he knew just when another estate needed to be visited, or when he needed to make a bolt to town. How late are you?”

Warmth rose in Phoebe’s face. “Almost two weeks.”

Hermione sat back. “The manor house.”

Phoebe nodded ruefully. “Probably the first night.”

“Well, it is early days. Let’s see what the next two weeks brings. This is always the most dangerous time.”

Phoebe stared at her hands twisting the fringe of her shawl. “Should I tell Marcus?”

Hermione laughed in delight. “My dear, any man used to breeding animals knows how to figure it out. We cannot hide having or not having our courses.”

Phoebe stood and hugged her sister. “Thank you. I want a child so badly.”

“Most of us do. Children are our greatest delight. Don’t quack yourself, but I know you won’t, and don’t allow Marcus to wrap you in cotton-wool. Men become impossible when we are increasing.”

Phoebe grinned. “I remember Hester threatening to leave John if he didn’t stop trying to wrap her in cotton-wool.”

Hermione shook her head. “He would have followed, and Edwin refused to have them both in the house for six months.”

That night, Marcus slipped into bed, placed his hand over her stomach, and searched her face. “Is there a chance you’re breeding?”

“Possibly. I’m late.”

He kissed her. “Shall we practice some more?”

They made love gently, as if he was afraid he’d hurt her. Later, they lay in each other’s arms, and Phoebe did not ever want to be anywhere else.

Marcus nuzzled her hair with his lips. “As far as we can tell, there are no more spies in the village. Would you like to depart for Paris the day after to-morrow?”

“If you think it’s safe to leave. It will be nice for us to be alone.”

The evening before they were due to depart, Phoebe’s family and Isabel—Lord Dunwood had returned to town with Uncle Henry’s proxy for an important vote—were lingering over sweets after dinner, when the girls’ governess, Priddy, entered the room with Anne. “My ladies, Anne has something she would like to tell you.”

Phoebe smiled and held out her hand to her niece. “What is it, my dear?”

Anne took Phoebe’s hand. “When we were outside to-day, I saw a man in the woods. He was standing very close to a tree, as if he was trying to hide, and he was watching us. I didn’t recognize him so he couldn’t work here because I know everyone, and he didn’t look like he was from around here.”

Phoebe nodded. “That’s very good. Can you describe him, love?”

Anne screwed up her face. “I didn’t get a good look at his features, but his clothes were strange. He wore a great long coat with a red scarf tied around his neck and a hat with a wide brim.”

Phoebe hugged her. “That’s a very good description. If you see him—or anyone you don’t recognize again—come to us right away. Tell Emily as well. Priddy, thank you.”

Once Anne and Priddy had gone, Marcus rubbed a hand over his face. “Do we delay our travel plans again?”

“No,” Phoebe said. “Let him come after us. I will not hide anymore. We can take precautions.”

Marcus drew his brows together, but nodded. “Very well. To-morrow it is. With luck, this situation will end.”

The next morning, Marcus regarded the two traveling coaches standing in the drive with displeasure. “I thought we’d travel with only our personal servants. I didn’t realize she’d planned to bring the carriages.”

St. Eth gave a bark of laughter. “You are traveling with your personal servants. But Phoebe has three to your one.”

He slapped Marcus on the back. “Never fear, my boy, by the time you return you’ll be lucky you don’t have another coach and horses, if she finds some she likes.” St. Eth had an irritating grin on his face. “Ester tells me Phoebe’s modiste has given her a letter of introduction to one in Paris.”

Marcus closed his eyes and shuddered. “This is an aspect of married life I hadn’t contemplated.”

St. Eth chuckled. “No, none of us do.”

By this time, they’d been joined by Edwin, John, and Geoffrey, who were all smiling infuriatingly. He tried not to scowl. “Does she always travel like this?”

Geoffrey grinned. “Always, unless she is fleeing you. Never saw her travel so light before.”

“At least she leaves the furniture,” John said. “I had a great-grandmother who took half her house when she traveled.”

Phoebe came up to them and placed her hand on Marcus’s arm. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

He couldn’t remain angry at her. He just wanted to get away quickly. “No, it’s just that I didn’t comprehend we’d be taking the coaches.”

“Aha.” She nodded wisely. “I’ve been reliably informed that with all the English flocking to the continent, it is difficult to find proper conveyances. I understand the situation with horses is not as bad.” Her lovely lips formed a
moue
. “Though I am perfectly prepared to buy horses if need be, I don’t want to commission a coach unless I must.”

Marcus raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

She flushed. “Oh, I suppose I should have said
we
will not want to commission a coach. I’m sorry, my love. I’ve been so used to ordering my travel as I see fit, I forgot I should now consider you as well. I expect I’ll become used to it. In the meantime,
if
I become
too
managing, you will have to tell me.”

He smiled at her, keeping his thoughts to himself.
How am I to do that?
“Shall we go?”

“Give me a few minutes.” She squeezed his arm.

While Phoebe said farewell to the ladies, Marcus made sure the outriders were ready. There was only one good way to reach the main road to the coast, and it was a very narrow lane, not even wide enough to turn the coach, lined by woods on both sides. He wanted to make sure Phoebe was protected if they were attacked.

Thirty minutes later, their coaches started down the drive. Phoebe’s leave-taking had been mostly for naught. Her sisters, brother, and their spouses escorted them to the main road.

“The ship will sail on the early morning tide. When we get to Newhaven, I’ll point her out.”

She’d had her neck tilted at an odd angle when she looked up at him and rubbed it.

Marcus lifted her onto his lap.

“That’s much better,” she said. “I can see you when we talk.”

He grinned and kissed her. “What is in the basket?”

“I think I see a bottle of port, other than that, I don’t know. We can look.”

“Later.”

Marcus closed the shades. Phoebe was soft and warm against him. This position was much better. Only a few minutes later, the coach slowed. He knocked on the roof and John Coachman opened the hatch. “There’s something in the path. We’ll have it clear in no time.”

A chill crawled up Marcus’s spine. “It’s a trap. Send one of the outriders to tell the other carriage to halt, and then ride to Charteries for help. Tell everyone else to be on alert.”

“Do we move it, my lord? We can’t go forward with it there, and the road’s too narrow to turn the coach.”

“Behave as naturally as you can. Covey will keep watch.”

“Marcus,” Phoebe said, “he cannot. He’s with Rose in the other carriage.”

Marcus swore softly under his breath. “He’ll know to take the coach out of sight and double back. In the meantime, we should have enough men to hold off an attack.”

She pulled out her pistol. “I can help.”

“You,” he growled, “you are his target. Stay here with the shades down and fastened, and the door locked.”

The coach had been made to Phoebe’s specifications. That in itself was not remarkable, but the interior was. There were lights, a folding table occupied the place a second set of doors would be located, and the carriage had a strong lock. However, from the outside, the coach appeared as if there were doors on each side. Leather roll-down shades covered glass windows. The shades were thick enough to provide protection if the windows broke.