The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (8 page)

After motioning for more coffee, Uncle Henry said, “Robert declared them to be a ‘bang-up pair. Real blood and bone.’ He was quite envious, you know, to have his cousin—his
female
cousin—driving such a rig. He besieged me to buy him a phaeton and pair. I told him when he could handle the ribbons as well as you, my dear, I would take it into consideration.
That
put him on his mettle.”

Phoebe laughed musically. She took a piece of toast and accepted the cup of tea her aunt handed her. Glancing at her uncle, she smiled widely, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But, my dear, dear Uncle Henry, what you do not know is that I have not only a pair, but a team.
Perfectly matched.
”

“Have you, by God? I’m very glad Robert is not here. I cannot wait to see them. How did you come by a matched team?”

She’d taken a bite of her toast and swallowed. “I had them off Marbury last year when he was forced to reduce his stable. As you can imagine, he was loath to lose them, but with his pockets to let, he had no choice.”

“He must have been happier that you bought them than anyone else,” Henry remarked.

Phoebe nodded with a wry smile. “Well, yes, he knew that I, at least, would take good care of them.”

“Do you plan to ride this season or will you only drive and walk?” Henry asked.

Phoebe’s forehead wrinkled. “I should like to ride as well, but didn’t bring old Jessie with me. I hoped that you could mount me. I need to find a new hack, but wish to take my time looking around.” Phoebe frowned. “It’s really too bad ladies are not allowed to go to Tattersall’s. It makes buying one’s cattle so much more difficult.”

“I have just the horse for you,” Uncle Henry said. “A very pretty, spirited mare, fast as the wind, I bought at Tattersall’s last month. She is a sweet goer with a lively disposition. I think you will like her very well indeed. She should be just the thing.”

Phoebe smiled. “Thank you so much. You are quite the best uncle in the world.”

Henry thought, not for the first time, how much Phoebe would bring to a marriage, if only she could find the right man. Damn Marcus Finley for scaring her so young.

Saturday morning, Phoebe and her aunt visited Madame’s. Phoebe’s purchases included new walking and carriage gowns, which naturally required new hats to match.

As she left the milliner’s shop in Bond Street, looking down to fasten her gloves, she was knocked off her feet. A pair of powerful arms grabbed her from behind to steady her, then, as if she were a rag doll, she was suddenly pulled back against his equally strong hard male body.

Phoebe gasped as the tremor ran down her spine. Her senses seized with some emotion she did not immediately recognize, and she was overcome with a strange desire to melt against the person holding her.

A deep voice, one she’d heard before, lightly cursed inconsiderate boys. At the same time the man appeared to deliberately release her.

Which, to Phoebe’s surprise, was not at all what she wanted.

She turned, to thank her rescuer, and gazed up into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. The shade reminded her of the color of the water in paintings of the tropics. Turquoise.

The effect was enhanced by his deeply tanned visage, as he stared down at her. Small lines creased the corners of his eyes, and he smiled with perfectly molded lips.

Phoebe’s breath came fast and she tried to slow her heart, which had decided to dash off madly. Dragging her gaze from his lips, she took in his lean, rugged face, and aquiline nose. A lock of dark sable hair fell over his broad forehead. His eyes warmed the longer he looked at her. He was magnificent.

Phoebe’s arms and back tingled with the memory of his touch.

Why was it she’d never noticed him before?

Marcus had been approaching a milliner’s shop when a youth, running unheedingly down the street, almost hit him. Just at that moment, a young lady stepped out of a shop door. The lad bumped into her, perilously knocking the woman off her feet. Marcus immediately reached out to keep her from falling and almost dropped her altogether.

The moment Marcus touched her arms, his hands shook with a tremor so violent he’d pulled her sharply against his chest, causing an even greater vibration to pass through him. He didn’t even have to look at her to know it was his Phoebe.

Bracing himself for her shock and anger at finding herself in his arms, he slowly, deliberately released her. Lady Phoebe stared up at him and he was lost in her eyes, an intense sky blue. He smiled down and couldn’t let go of her gaze.

Phoebe’s soft feminine curves still made his hands tingle, even though he was no longer touching her.

She returned his smile with one of her own. “Thank you so much for rescuing me. I was quite knocked off my feet.”

Still lost in her, he blinked. She wasn’t running away, and she hadn’t hit him. Good Lord, she hadn’t recognized him. He wasn’t about to set her straight, not yet at any rate. “It was entirely my pleasure. I am not often able to rescue a damsel in distress.”

Phoebe’s chuckle was soft and breathy. “No, I suppose not, at least not in Bond Street. You must be my knight-errant.”

A position he would gladly hold. “Milady.” He bowed, bringing her hand to his lips. Her fingers fluttered as he pressed a soft kiss on them. He continued to hold both her gaze and her hand after he’d kissed it. This was too good to be true. She didn’t know him. He longed to take her into his arms again. Tell her she belonged with him. But that’s how this whole conundrum began.

Ignoring propriety, she said, “I am Lady Phoebe Stanhope.”

Just at that moment an older woman arrived. “Phoebe, what . . . ?”

“Oh, Aunt Ester.”

He held Phoebe’s gaze and though she spoke to her aunt, she looked at him. “I was almost knocked off my feet by—by a—a . . .”

His smiled deepened. “A reckless boy.”

She’d given him her name, but if he told her his, she’d leave him.

Nodding, Phoebe kept her eyes on his. “Yes, very reckless, and this very kind gentleman rescued me from falling.”

If Lady Phoebe would allow it, Marcus would ask nothing more than to spend the rest of his life protecting her.

Ester regarded the man warily. Unlike Phoebe, who only seemed to be interested in his eyes, a particularly intense shade of blue. Ester sent an appraising glance over him, taking in the fashionable cut of his coat, his perfectly tied cravat, waistcoat, pantaloons, and his gleaming Hessian boots.

She also noticed he did not weigh himself down with the fobs and rings of a dandy. Rather, his only jewelry was an unusual tie-pin in his cravat, a quizzing glass, and a large gold signet ring.

But she may as well not have been present as far as he was concerned. He was paying attention to nothing other than Phoebe, and Phoebe was not behaving any better. Ester couldn’t believe her niece had actually given her name to a strange man who hadn’t even asked to be introduced.

Glancing discreetly around, Ester was relieved to see no one they knew nearby. Indeed, the area was blessedly empty.

Ester turned her attention back to Phoebe and could scarcely believe her eminently sensible niece, who
always
paid attention to the proprieties, was standing in the middle of Bond Street
much
too close to a gentleman she’d never before met. Worse, Phoebe was staring at him, smiling!

Ester didn’t know whether to laugh or be shocked. How long would the two of them remain there entranced with each other? Clearly, the answer was too long. If she didn’t do something and quickly, they were going to create scandal.

Ester cleared her throat. “Well, sir . . .”

Ester waited for him to ask to be allowed to introduce himself. When he didn’t, she raised a brow and peered pointedly at him for a moment. Still, the expected response did not come. Flustered, she took Phoebe’s arm. “I am very thankful you were here to rescue my niece from harm. Phoebe, my dear, we
must
be going.”

Phoebe didn’t look away, just frowned slightly. “Yes, I suppose I must go. Thank you again, sir.”

“Your gratitude is unnecessary. I am always at your service, milady.” The man reluctantly allowed Phoebe’s hand to slip from his grasp as Ester dragged her niece away.

Phoebe vibrated with excitement as she walked back to the St. Eth’s town carriage. “Aunt Ester, it was him.”

“Him who, child?”

“The gentleman. I felt it! That feeling!”

Ester paused before continuing on faster than before, her arm firmly entwined in Phoebe’s. “Wait until we are home, then we can discuss it. We would not wish to be overheard.”

Despite Ester’s warning, Phoebe’s exhilaration seemed to burble out of her.

Finally, ensconced in the morning room, Ester poured them each a cup of tea and searched her niece’s bliss-filled face. Oh dear. Phoebe in love was going to prove to be a challenge.

Ester had never seen her niece so pent up. The thought occurred to Ester that she might be in need of something more potent than tea by the time this tale was told. “Now, my love, pray, what has happened to-day with that young man? The whole story, if you please.”

Phoebe took a breath. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed. “You know I was leaving the shop just before you, and I was struck off my feet. The gentleman caught me up into his arms, and I felt—
The thrill. The shiver.
—and I think he experienced it as well. Oh, Aunt Ester, I am sure he is the same gentleman who rescued me at the inn! Don’t you see, this is fated.”

Ester suddenly realized there was much more to this tale than she’d originally thought. What had Phoebe been up to? “He rescued you at the inn? What inn? Why did you require rescuing? Phoebe, I think you had better start at the beginning, and do not leave anything out. What a featherbrained creature you have become.”

Phoebe told her aunt the story of the gentleman protecting her from unwanted attention, then sleeping outside of her chamber, guarding her honor. “So you see, Aunt Ester, he has twice saved me, and I don’t even know his name.”

“Yes, I did notice that he failed to request an introduction,” Ester replied dryly, hoping to dampen Phoebe’s ardor a bit. “Oh, my dear child, I do hope he is . . . well, that he is of our class. It would be awful if he were not, when you have your heart set on him.”

Concern shadowed her face. “Aunt Ester, he did look like a proper gentleman. Don’t you think?”

Ester seriously doubted Phoebe noticed anything other than his turquoise eyes. “Yes indeed, he was very properly dressed, and well looking. Oh, how awkward this is. Such a shame he was not with someone we know or did not make himself known. If it is as you say, and he is able to travel in our circles, he will find you. Believe me—the man knows who you are even if we do not know who he is.”

Phoebe opened her mouth to protest.

Ester held up her hands. “I know, I know. It is hard for you, my dear, to restrain yourself. Nevertheless, you cannot always take the bit between your teeth.
You
searching openly for
him
will only make you look a fool, and I have never known you to be that.”

Phoebe’s face fell. “No, indeed, you are right. I would not want that at all.”

“Then it’s settled. It will do him good to search for you, as is proper, and gentlemen like to be the hunters.” Ester could only hope Phoebe would listen and that the gentleman
would
seek her out, or there would no doubt be a scandal.

Phoebe lay in bed that night thinking of her rescuer’s eyes, so clear and blue. Yet there was something more, a happiness emanating from them as if he was glad to be with her. The memory of his body against hers and his hard muscular arms as he caught her from falling made her shiver with delight. She’d never known a man’s chest could feel like a warm rock. It had been Heaven.

Phoebe touched her hand where he’d kissed it and the place tingled again. How would his lips feel on hers? She’d never wondered about that before, had never wanted a man to kiss her.

His lean face was more rugged than the typical
ton
gentlemen’s, though it may have been due to his deep tan. Phoebe sighed. How wonderful it had felt to be protected and wanted.

Aunt Ester had to be right. He would seek her out. A sudden fear that she could be wrong about this man took hold, dampening her joy.

Was she any more capable now at judging a man than she was eight years ago? She wished there was someone she could confide in. Phoebe suddenly felt alone and frightened, and unsure she could protect her heart.

Chapter Six

M
arcus couldn’t believe his luck. Phoebe hadn’t recognized him. How good it felt to hold her in his arms, even if it was for only a moment.

It was clear her aunt was not at all happy he’d not done as he should have and requested an introduction. But how could he and ruin the moment?

What would Phoebe do? How would she react when she discovered that he was her nemesis? A plan took hold in his mind. Would it be possible for him to captivate her before she knew who he was, so that hopefully she’d no longer care what he’d done in the past?

With renewed optimism, he shuffled through the invitations that until then had not held much interest. Marcus wondered which balls Phoebe would attend, when he’d meet her again, and how he would keep his identity a secret.