But if she’d said no, would he have left?
That question remained unanswered, and she would always be profoundly glad that it would.
* * * *
An hour after their arrival, a rumbling sound announced a coach drawing up outside. A glance out of the window assured Leo his coach had arrived. His valet leaped down, carrying a large bag. A trunk was strapped to the rear of the vehicle. His valet appeared in his bedroom and got to work. They had to maneuver their way around a room considerably smaller than what they were used to, but between them they got him ready. His valet had packed the scarlet cloth coat and sewn on the gold buttons with his coat of arms. The waistcoat was ivory silk, and he wore ivory breeches, not a speck marring their immaculate, smooth surface.
A fresh black ribbon held back his newly washed and smoothed hair. As a final touch, he slid the pearl pin from the pocket of yesterday’s breeches and pushed it into the folds of his neckcloth. When he held out his hand, his valet gave him his gold hunter watch, the snuffbox he carried but rarely used, a purse full of gold and silver, and the small box containing the ring he would give to Phoebe. It was the plain gold band he’d ordered. He would shower her with diamonds and rubies in the fullness of time, but he wanted the contract between them marked with something plain and honest.
When his valet approached with the pounce pot, Leo waved him away. “No powder.” He glanced at the dark shadows under the man’s eyes. “You made good time. It’s a full day’s journey to town.”
“We set out as soon as we received the message, sir.” The man turned, making light of his journey. “I had the best horses set to and told coachman to make haste.”
They must have set out before daylight, as soon as they had received the message he’d dispatched from the inn via Linton. He did note that he’d ordered the footman to remain in London and take his well-earned rest, but he did not seem to have obeyed that order. He wouldn’t call Linton out on it, although he would ensure the man took time off when they returned. Leo shuddered when he thought of the state of the road at the Hare and Hounds.
Although he appeared disappointed, the man bowed and took the powder away. He should be used to it by now. Leo kept wigs for the rare times he chose to use them. His valet could powder them all he liked.
He was ready. Gazing into the dim mirror, he tugged the edges of his waistcoat, his invariable act before leaving his room.
Going out of the room, he became aware of the sound of voices farther along the narrow corridor. Female voices. The windows lining the passage looked out over a pleasant, tranquil garden, hardly a breeze to ruffle the rose bushes below, but this house was not so peaceful.
He stood outside the door the voices were coming from and tapped. He would not eavesdrop.
The door was flung open, and Phoebe stood there, the figure of her sister behind her. The room contained one bed but two clothes presses, one bulging with so many items the door hung open, unable to close. He would wager his cozy manor house in Devonshire that one belonged to the girl standing behind Phoebe, a mulish scowl marring her pretty face.
Phoebe, dressed in a sky-blue gown he had not seen before, looked, as always, neat as a pin and to his eyes utterly desirable. But that did not blind him to the fact that the gown was relatively plain, and in the style of a few years ago. It had also been a deeper shade, as where the robings hid it from the light, there was a thin, darker blue line.
He allowed none of his observations to affect his expression. He gave Lucinda a cool nod. “You made good time.”
“More than you did.” Lucinda’s mouth turned in a sneer before she dropped into a sketchy curtsey. “Your Grace.” She wore a pink gown Leo knew he’d seen on Phoebe. Never mind, he would furnish his wife with many, much more beautiful clothes. Not that she needed them. She was lovely enough on her own. What he’d uncovered last night still amazed him—the perfect, silky skin, the mouth-watering curves. He couldn’t wait to taste her again.
“Thank you for bringing her home. She must have been a severe trial.” Lucinda glared at Phoebe. “She isn’t made for a duke. And that stammer drives my mother and myself mad! Many a time has my mother told her to keep quiet, for fear she would disgrace us.”
Keeping his attention on Phoebe, he held out his hand. She placed hers over his, in the approved manner. “We are about to leave for the church. Will we need the carriage?”
Phoebe shook her head. “N-not unless you w-want t-to be particularly d-ducal. St. M-Michael’s is just across the g-green.”
“Church? On a Saturday?” Lucinda said sharply.
“You did not tell her?”
Phoebe gave him a cynical smile. “In that room? I w-wanted to d-dress, not deal with a t-tantrum.”
Then it would be his pleasure to tell Lucinda. “Your sister and I are marrying. Today. You forced the union by your reckless actions, and I am not prepared to leave Phoebe on her own for another minute. My delight and honor is to take her as my wife.”
Phoebe returned his smile warmly, this one lighting her eyes with pleasure. Her sister responded with an ominous silence. At least the girl wasn’t screeching. Perhaps she was learning.
Good. Her sister had not distressed her. Although Leo would wager that Lucinda had kept up her narrative while Phoebe was getting ready. She picked up a bergère hat and fixed it to the top on her head, then placed her hand in his. “I’m ready.”
So was he. More than ready. At least Lady North had the sense to keep out of the way. He’d have enjoyed marrying Phoebe in front of her father and brothers, but not these two. In time maybe Lady North would come to realize which daughter had most value, but they would not be here to see it.
And he would not wait any longer to marry her. Would not risk losing her to her sister’s spite and her mother’s willful blindness. Rather than that, he’d risk scandal and marry her here and now.
Leo never rushed into anything, never. He hardly knew himself.
Lady North waited downstairs, her bright green silk a testimony to her taste. She had appeared uncomfortable in London, but here in the country, she fitted. As she gazed up the stairs to watch them descend, she smiled. A taut expression for sure, but she had more sense than her daughter. “I am so glad Phoebe is marrying from home,” she offered. That was more tactful than Leo had expected. “Robson told me.”
“Indeed, although you are aware the reason for the hasty union is expedience. I would rather have given Phoebe the wedding she deserved, although I daresay my grandmother will arrange a wedding breakfast on our return to London. If your neighbor had not taken a notion into his head, then we would be in London still.”
The smile didn’t waver. He had to admire that. “We won’t speak about that, if you please. Ah, there is my Lucinda.” Warmth spread as she saw the younger girl. “The vicar is waiting.”
So they were to have the pleasure of Lady North and her daughter at their wedding, after all. He would not upset his bride-to-be, so he said nothing as they followed them outside.
They walked to the church, since Phoebe appeared to want that. He would have conveyed her there in style, but she told him she did not want to play the great lady here in her home. Nevertheless, although today was not a regular church day, the small, ancient place was packed. Word, it seemed, had got out, and this village was as efficient a conveyor of gossip as the city. From the moment his carriage had appeared outside the inn, the game was up.
For himself, Leo cared little. He’d played to bigger audiences than this. But Phoebe, already distressed from her ordeal, would not appreciate this.
Except his bride surprised him yet again. Her modest gown fitted in this company, more than Lucinda’s finery, and he was proud of her, that she behaved so easily with her neighbors. No arrogance or superiority marred her pretty smiles and nods. For that matter, her ladyship greeted her neighbors with well-met bonhomie. Only Lucinda held herself
apart, sweeping to the front pew and taking her seat with a graceful swirl of silk and a glare.
Leo went ahead, to allow Lady North to escort Phoebe to his side, in default of her father.
And in twenty minutes, they were married. He had not expected to find the simple ceremony so moving, and he had thought the church would be empty, but it appeared not. While he was not insensible to his rank, so many people came to smile and nod to Phoebe that he suspected they would have come to see her whoever she was marrying. A wry smile twisted his mouth when he considered the alternative. She might have been safe after all.
But married to a brute.
He allowed himself a kiss once they had reached the privacy of the vestry, to sign the parish register. “Not all my couples bother to sign,” the vicar informed him. “But I have tried to keep the marriages here regular.”
Recognizing a hint when he heard it, Leo handed over the license he had obtained in London. “The gentry mostly use these,” the man said. “I have quite a collection of signatures. But yours will hold pride of place.”
The formalities concluded, and the vicar out of the room, Leo took her in his arms. “I thought he’d never go.”
* * * *
The Duchess of Leomore. Her Grace, the Duchess of Leomore. “Oh, Duchess…”
Phoebe repeated the variations on her new title in her mind as Leo took her out of the church to return to the house where she had grown up. Perhaps for the last time.
She paused to speak with her neighbors, people she’d known all her life. This community would grow distant. This was not the future she had foreseen for herself. She had expected to spend the rest of her life based in this district, married or not, but now a wider and more expansive future awaited her.
One that gave her pause. But she would do everything she could to be the best duchess she could. And she would never let Leo down.
His hand warmly tucked in hers, no formal parading, he spoke with the people on their way out of the church, giving no one the idea that he was in any way discommoded or that this marriage here had not been planned. “Unfortunately the pressure of business keeps Sir Frederick in town, but he will arrive in due course. I was delighted to have Lady North here to give Phoebe away.”
He was indeed, because that meant they would not have to bear their company in London.
“I expected Lucinda to snag a duke,” one woman said, nodding to where Lucinda stood chatting to a young woman.
Leo added his gentle nudge. “She did not show to advantage in London. Perhaps when she is a little older she may try again. Phoebe was ready to be plucked, and I was the fortunate man who got there first.”
Phoebe blushed fierily. “Leo, I didn’t…”
He brought their conjoined hands up and brushed his mouth over her knuckles. “Yes, you did. You should not contradict your husband, you know.”
The woman laughed and moved away, leaving the way clear for Leo to begin to stroll in the direction of the house. “We shall sleep here tonight,” he said, “and I will leave you for one more night with your sister, if you can bear that. If not, we’ll climb into the coach now and stop on the way home.”
“My mother would dislike that intensely.”
“I already do, but only because I cannot have you with me. If I take you there, you will scream again. I’ll make sure of it, and I would not have your mother and sister hear your cries.”
The warmth of his eyes when he glanced at her left Phoebe in no doubt of his intentions. Her protests died on her lips. “Yes, I can manage Lucinda,” she said instead.
As he kissed her goodnight outside the room she shared with Lucinda later that evening, he warned her that she would not go another night out of his bed. “Be ready to leave tomorrow, early,” he told her. “We are not lingering here.”
She had no intention of lingering.
Chapter 19
Phoebe slept most of the way to London. Leo gently woke her when they stopped to change horses, but otherwise ensured she had everything she needed and let her sleep. When she awoke, they were driving through a village, the road occupied by a good number of other vehicles, some of them, like the one she rode in, with crests on the doors.
They did not stop at the house in Grosvenor Square that was Angela’s home. Instead, they went to the ducal London residence in Berkeley Square. Not far away, but the change in her life was telling. The sun was dying, casting a rosy glow over the white stuccoed front of the house, giving it a tranquility she suspected it rarely had.
Outside the house, servants sprang to open the door as soon as the carriage came to a halt. Phoebe swallowed. She would live here now and try to live up to her new rank. Only now, after the rush and a day’s sleep, did her tension catch up with her, together with reality.
Leo handed her down tenderly and tucked her arm under his, leading her into the house. Phoebe would not deny her nervousness.
The servants were ranked inside, upstairs and downstairs maids and menservants, far too many to count. But she met them with a smile and a nod as they curtseyed and bowed when Leo introduced them. She caught most of their names and committed them to memory. At least the duchess did not insist on calling them by generic names.
But she would never live so close to these people that they were almost friends, as she had at home. The houses she would occupy from now on would have space for the servants to keep their distance.
They went upstairs, but her ordeal wasn’t finished. The worst was to come. But to her surprise, he took her up another flight of stairs and into a large bedroom. A maid stood in the middle of the floor. She bobbed a curtsey.
“This is Hatch,” he said. “Her family has served mine for centuries. I have asked her to act as your maid for now, but we must see to finding you a proper lady’s maid in the morning.”
His attention went to a small table, where a set of covered dishes were dispersing a delectable aroma around the room. “I’ll leave you to your meal and to change, if you wish. We will attend my grandmother in an hour.”
He left her.
Phoebe had never felt so alone. Fear rushed in on her, and she froze. After one glance at her face, the maid, a small woman of around forty, went to the table and pulled back a chair. “I would suggest you eat first, Your Grace.”
Those two words. She would hear them a lot in the years to come. She took the seat offered and lifted the first cover.
An hour later she was ready to leave. Or rather, better prepared. The French clock on the mantelpiece had tinkled the time, nine o’clock, and right on time, he knocked on the door.
Having done her work efficiently with a friendliness that did not encroach, Hatch stepped back. Phoebe answered the door herself, enjoying Leo’s appreciative gaze. Since she would not leave the house that night, she’d chosen a new gown, one of the few Lucinda had left her. Hatch had explained that she had unpacked what there was, and Phoebe had explained frankly that she had a thieving sister. After all, what loyalty did she owe Lucinda after the clumsy scheme her sister had entered into that had nearly destroyed Phoebe’s future?
“You look charming,” Leo said, and reached for her.
Her tension rose because she wasn’t used to kissing him this blatantly. Anyone could be passing by.
But it didn’t matter. This was Leo’s home, and she was his wife. His wife. As he drew her to rest against his shoulder, he made the kiss thorough, and she responded with enthusiasm. “Soon,” he murmured against her lips. A promise as sincere as the ones they’d made that morning.
He released her gently and waited for her to meet his gaze. “My grandmother and your mentor are below. We should talk to them before we retire.”
She plucked at the folds of her gown. “I assumed that was why I dressed.” Instead of changing into a night rail and robe.
He nodded. “Indeed.”
They went down to
the drawing room. Phoebe had been in this house, in the elegant reception room before, but not as its duchess. Would the older lady resent her? But relief surged through her when she saw her friend.
As soon as she entered, Angela was there in a swirl of silk, her arms around her. “My dear, I’m so glad! You will make such a wonderful duchess!”
Phoebe doubted that, but she could hardly say so. She had transgressed by not going immediately to the other woman in the room and making her curtsey, but she made up for that now. When she rose, the shrewd old lady was watching her carefully. “Sit, my dear. Tell me the truth. I have heard a mass of stories today, and I need to know.”
So Phoebe told her. Like Leo, the two women did not try to finish her words for her or interrupt her impatiently. Because of that, Phoebe could relate the story, and because Leo sat next to her, clasping her hand, she could finish it.
Although when she was done, she was wrung out. Relating the story took her through the emotions once more, and she doubted this would be the last time she did so. Somehow she would hold her head high through all the gossip.
“So, we have a new duchess,” Leo’s grandmother said. “And I am again a dowager. I have been looking forward to returning to the Dower House. I was happy there.”
Phoebe’s eyes opened wider. She had not expected the lady to say that.
The dowager nodded. “Oh yes. When my son became a roué, I thought it was a stage of his life. Instead, he found a wife as reckless as he was, and they proceeded to ruin the estate and its reputation. If they had not died when they did, they would have succeeded. I have no such doubts about my grandson. If you are who he needs by his side, then I welcome you.”
In any case, the job was done. “Thank you.”
“I will help you through your first months, but I have every intention of returning to my hard-earned retirement.” The dowager paused to pick up a glass of red wine from the table by her side. She took a delicate sip and replaced it on the silver coaster. “I feel confident leaving the dukedom in your hands. And of course, if you have need of me, I will be there to help you.”
The Girl with the Pearl Pin Page 24
