The Duchess remained completely calm. She smiled as she laid down her napkin aside her plate. “Social ascension is a craft, my dear. I make no apologies for the progress I have made in life.” She turned to the Duke and smiled in a sickly-sweet manner. “Although all I ever really sought was the love of my dear husband.”
She cleared her throat and set her gaze next upon the Earl. “It must have crossed your mind, My Lord, that Phoebe would be ascending into a very comfortable position in marrying my son.”
“I care less for the comfort of her position and far more for the security of her wellbeing,” he replied. “The Duke is my oldest and dearest friend and I know Lord Huxley to be an honorable gentleman. As a father, entrusting my daughter into the care of those who love her as I do is the best I can do for her.”
“Does it concern you that a lady of my station might marry your son with his station as it is? I always believed, having been raised together, that our stations in life were fairly equal, but your manner leads me to believe I am naïve,” Phoebe asserted.
The Duchess remained calm. “You misunderstand me, my dear. It was a simple observation. There was no accusation hidden beneath my words.”
“Yes, Phoebe,” the Duke added quickly. “This is quite an uncomfortable situation you have orchestrated for us all. An apology would not be amiss.”
Phoebe silently seethed. She saw beneath the Duchess’s display of innocence. She remembered all too well how she had been spoken to during the Duchess’s visit to Wycliff House. However, now did not seem the time to rise to battle, so she bowed her head and swallowed her pride.
“My apologies, Your Grace. Perhaps it is my own self-esteem that leads me to read into your observations.”
“Not at all, Lady Phoebe. I remember all too well how small and lowly I once felt as the daughter of a baronet.” The words could be interpreted either as a show of empathy or as a stab of the dagger; the hidden message being that it was Phoebe who was small and lowly. Phoebe knew precisely which meaning she was intended to understand.
The Duke responded quickly to change the conversation and lift the spirits of the table. “Shall we dine?”
* * *
Phoebe was the first to head toward the carriage while her father let his farewell to the Duke turn into another long discussion of business affairs.
She gasped in surprise when her arm was grabbed as she waited at the side of the carriage. She was pulled around the side of the manor and found herself face to face with Owen.
Even the platonic touch of his pull was enough to make Phoebe feel weak at the knees. There was something exciting and forbidden about being swept into a hidden spot to be alone with him. It brought to mind her recent dream in which he had kissed her…
Kiss me now that I might have one moment to cherish always, before I give my life and loyalty to another.
Ever since the ball, it had seemed to Phoebe that Owen was fading. He seemed ever more unkempt each time she saw him, and the frown on his face was becoming more constant. He seemed miserable and disturbed even now. He kept his voice soft and low as he spoke to her in another scandalous moment alone.
“Owen! What are you thinking, stealing me aside like this? What will people think?”
“Somebody needed to apologize for my mother’s behavior. Others may choose to interpret her words as innocent and kindly, but I have been on the receiving end of her wrath before and I know quite well how adept she is at twisting the knife under the table where nobody can see.”
Phoebe felt an overwhelming sense of relief that somebody was an ally. “I don’t know what I ever did to make her hate me so.”
“She is a hateful woman, Phoebe. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“How do I change her impression of me to a more favorable one?”
“My mother cares for nobody but herself. Not even my brother or me. Not even my father. She will never care for you.”
Phoebe caught a sharp breath. “That seems awfully cynical.”
“I was raised by the Duchess, Phoebe. I assure you, she is cold through and through. I needed to ensure you were offered an apology, and beyond this, that you were offered support. I understand how she can behave and I would not leave you to face her alone. Our fathers are so loyal to one another that they dare not address her behavior for fear of tipping the scale one way or another.”
“So I witnessed.” Phoebe leaned against the wall. The cold stone was cool against the back of her head and she appreciated the support of the wall. She was still prone to a dreadful lingering fatigue even though the fever had long passed. “She supposes we will reside with her after we are married. Owen, I can think of nothing more dreadful.”
“She is a lady who lives relentlessly according to the old adage of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer.”
“I cannot understand why she believes me to be an enemy.”
“I can.”
“Do explain.”
“You are younger and far more beautiful. While she is tolerated by family and peers alike, you are a light that shines. Everyone who meets you adores you. You will soon surpass her in her social circles for where she plays at being kind, you are genuinely good.”
“You think too highly of me.”
Owen’s compliments never failed to flatter her; all the more so because she knew flattery was not his intention. He had always spoken to her as if she were a goddess amongst men and every time her heart ached to step into his world, where he was her king and she was his queen, and they lived in a secret kingdom far from prying eyes.
“No, I do not. I simply know you well.” Owen’s gaze traveled over her from head to foot then settled in meeting her eyes. As always, his stare seemed to see into the very soul of her and left her trembling. “Furthermore, you represent a threat to her social aspirations. Evan is the eldest son and therefore the most likely to secure the family another step up the ladder, so to speak. In marrying you, he will never rise higher than the rank of Duke.”
“Duke is about as high up the ladder as one can rise without being royalty.”
“My mother is just about insane enough to fancy her son could draw the affections of a princess.”
Phoebe offered a sorrowful shrug. “I cannot be more than I am.”
“And neither should you. You are more than all the world’s treasures, Phoebe. You are more lovely than the most beautiful ladies in this world and have more integrity and grace than any princess ever could.”
His words made her shiver with desire. She passed her gaze over his mouth and imagined those lips pressed against her own. She wished for his hands to rest upon her waist and pull her close so he could whisper in her ear more sweet nothings.
She bowed her head and blushed. “We vowed to offer only friendship to one another, Owen. How can you speak such things to me when Lady Ann is just beyond those doors? You betray her and dishonor me.”
“I am betraying my heart and dishonoring love.”
Her throat became strangled but not from illness. She was holding back tears, as she so often did in the presence of Owen.
She wished he would pull her toward him and kiss her deeply. Words were not enough for the fire that burned between them, yet they were forever separated by a wall of confessions and rejections. It was easy to combat his words but she knew if he swept her off her feet with some physical gesture, she would be defenseless. One kiss would steal all her senses from her.
“We can’t keep doing this. You simply cannot keep whisking me away into quiet corners and confessing your love for me. I cannot keep listening. It is betrayal, through and through. It is practically adultery what we do.”
“What they do is far worse.”
“And what is it that they do?”
“Deny us the love that is our right.”
“Owen, I love Evan.”
“I know you love me too.”
You know all I am and all I feel. You beautiful, dangerous gentleman.
“It w
ouldn’t matter if you were the sole and only love of my life, if your soul and mine were destined to intertwine, if I fell to sleep to dreams of you and awoke to visions of your face. I am promised to another, and I care for him greatly.”
Owen took a step back. “Forgive me, Phoebe. One day I will learn to restrain these emotions, but it is hard when they surge so strongly inside.”
“Somehow you must learn.” Phoebe held her ground and lifted her head high. “I won’t be some sort of illicit concubine to tend to your fancies.”
“Do you truly believe that is what this is? That I think of you as some pretty trinket in my harem?”
She let out a long breath and shook her head. “Of course not. I said that out of fear.”
“Fear of what?”
“Fear that we should be caught one day in one of these confessions. Fear that you should dissuade me from what I know I must do.”
“You are afraid of following your heart.”
“My heart is torn in two. I love you and Evan both. But I also love my father and have strong belief in upholding the principles of morality and proper conduct.”
Yes, she loved them both but in no way the same manner. Evan was the permitted path. Life with him promised a safe, secure, and ordinary existence full of simple pleasures and sweet discourse. Life with Owen would be unpredictable and difficult, but full of passion, desire, and devotion unlike any aristocrat had ever dreamed possible.
Dreams are for children.
“So you have said before.” Owen nodded. “As you wish it, Phoebe. Return now to the carriage before anyone should see us. I’ll enter through the rear of the manor.”
Chapter 13
“You seem distracted, My Lord.”
Owen and Lady Ann were walking together through a park with the Lady Ann’s brother as a chaperone, keeping a few steps behind.
“I’m simply enjoying the pleasantness of nature.”
Lady Ann looked down at her feet and shook her head. “You’re lying to me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re thinking of her.”
“Whom?”
“Lady Phoebe.”
Owen felt himself grow pale and he said nothing, simply kept up his pace beside Lady Ann as they strolled around the park.
“It was evident to me you had deep affections for her the night you left the dinner party, and it has only become more apparent in seeing you in proximity with her. You hang upon every word she speaks; you glorify her every action. You are in love with her and it is the most obvious thing in the world.”
“I am not in love with Lady Phoebe. She is simply an old friend.”
“I have many old friends too, My Lord, and I look at none of them the way you look at her.”
Owen came to a stop near a wrought-iron bench and gestured for Lady Ann to sit with him. It was an overcast and humid day in which the air seemed particularly close. The clouds were sullen in the sky, heavy and gray.
Lady Ann, as always, had made every effort in how she presented herself. Her hair was perfectly styled, her dress was pristine, and she’d applied make-up to relieve the pallid hue of her face. Yet, no matter how great her efforts might be, Owen was incapable of finding any beauty in her. He could only find resentment as to him she represented only an inferior replacement to his one true love.
“Even if I did have love for her, My Lady, it would make no difference; she is betrothed to my brother.”
“It makes a difference to me, My Lord.”
Owen turned to look at her and saw Lady Ann’s eyes were brimming with tears and her usually pale face had taken on a natural pinkness as her anger and humiliation colored her skin.
“I have always been the last choice of men. I fail to understand why. I may not be the most intelligent, the most beautiful, or the most godly of ladies, but I am patient and can hold a conversation. I don’t believe my appearance is so unpalatable that no gentleman could endure it.”
“You are beautiful, Lady Ann. Truly, you are.”
Lady Ann nodded slowly but her expression showed no comfort. “For years I have stood by and watched on as my friends and peers were engaged and then married. All the while I was left standing alone; no gentleman has ever come courting.”
She looked up at Owen with betrayal in her eyes. “When we were introduced, I believed that perhaps there was hope for me yet.”
“My Lady, I do not understand your fears. I have no plans to break from my courtship with you.”
“Perhaps I am the one with plans to break the courtship.”
Owen fell silent. Lady Ann was so irritating to him that he had never imagined that she might find him equally as frustrating.
“You no longer wish to see me?”
“Can you blame a lady such as myself, who has waited so long to attract a suitor, to hope for more than this? You barely glance at me when we are together. I know you do not listen to a word I say. You shudder away from the slightest touch as if I might poison you if I took your arm.”
“I’m deeply sorry if I have offended you.”
“Offense?” She scoffed. “I am used to being offended, My Lord, but this is worse. Your pursuit of me is a deception. I sense you think of me as some dull and hopeless spinster throwing herself at her last chance for marriage; you see me as a lady only looking to use someone. Yet, it is you who are using me. You are using me to distract you from the love you have for another.”
She sees more than I merited. “I do not mean to use you as a distraction. It is my true intention to break from my infatuation with Lady Phoebe.”
“And it might as well be me?”
Owen did not know how to respond. The shallow and dull Lady Ann was surprisingly perceptive and completely correct.
“I have underestimated and abused you, Lady Ann. I offer my deepest apologies. I did not realize before now that what I have been doing is dishonorable.”
“The most hurtful thing is that I can see it.”
“See what?”
“Why you adore her. When we had dinner with her and her father, I witnessed her charm and fire. Even when she is being obstinate she does so in a manner that draws admiration. She has the confidence and resilience I had always wished I might carry myself.”
“She is exceptional in many ways.”
“And I am exceptional in none.”
Owen was filled with guilt. He turned to Lady Ann and took her hands in his for the first time. “You are exceptional in that you approached this most difficult discussion with grace, humility and even kindness toward the one who has stolen the affections that are rightfully yours.”
“Rightfully mine?”
“Believe me when I say that I don’t want this courtship to end.”
“Because it heals the wound of her absence?”
He paused. “Yes.”
Lady Ann winced and a single tear fell. She pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. “So you think nothing of me?”
“The downfall of modern courtship is that we are expected to love before we are even familiar. This conversation we are sharing now has made me realize that I hardly know you, My Lady.”
“And I you.”
“If I may speak honestly, I have sensed great disdain from you toward me for my choice of career. And as I might lavish affections upon Lady Phoebe, I sense that you have aspired to a husband much more like my brother than a gentleman such as I. Do not think I haven’t noticed the contempt you have toward me.”
Lady Ann nodded. “I believed you to be so disengaged from me that I hardly thought you noticed nor cared whether I felt disdain or not.”
“I did notice, and it cut deeply, My Lady. I have always lived in my brother’s shadow. If I may be so callous as to mention her, it has always been the Lady Phoebe who made me feel adequate.”
“You are more than adequate, My Lord.” Lady Ann looked up at him with true admiration in her eyes. “You are intelligent and generous of spirit. You stand steadfast for what you believe
in and I have been wrong to disrespect that. In fact, you may be one of the most noble men I have ever met, and it is I who have been foolish for believing nobility could only be shown on the battlefield.”
“We have misjudged one another, it seems.”
“So it seems.”
“Lady Ann, I have loved Lady Phoebe for as long as I can recall knowing her. That being said, she is the only lady I have ever really known so closely. Perhaps we have a bond of our own to explore.”
An Immoral Dilemma For The Scandalous Lady (Steamy Historical Romance) Page 11
