An Immoral Dilemma For The Scandalous Lady (Steamy Historical Romance)

by Olivia Bennet

  She sniffed and shook her head slowly. “To think how I worried for him when he was in the army, and it is the mines that have been the death of him.”

  Like Miss Bennet, her brother had also been part of the peerage before their family’s demise and had been in the army prior to an injury that stopped him from returning to the front lines. It had been a humiliating degradation for him to work a manual job, but Miss Bennet had always spoken proudly of him.

  Phoebe’s heart broke for her. “You always spoke of how you would live near him in your old age.”

  “He and his wife, Alice.” Miss Bennet sniffed. “Poor Alice. She is a sweet young thing. They have already lost two children; stillborn. How she will cope with the loss of Edward, I will never know. I must be with her now.”

  “I will ensure food is packed for your journey and you must take my black cloak to keep you warm.”

  Miss Bennet looked up at her with such tenderness and gratitude that Phoebe wanted to cry. She loved her governess like her own mother.

  She embraced her again. “I only wish I could come with you to comfort you at this terrible hour.”

  “You are to be married in three weeks, My Lady. It is no time for you to leave home. And there is no saying how long I will be away. Alice may need my support.”

  “But you will return?”

  Miss Bennet swallowed, her emotion evident in her expression. She squeezed Phoebe’s hands again. “I will write, my child, so you will know my whereabouts and condition. I will make sure Alice has someone to care for her before I return.”

  “I will miss you while you are gone and think of you daily. I will pray for you, Miss Bennet.”

  “And I for you, Lady Phoebe.”

  * * *

  Evan had arrived an hour prior at Wycliffe to share a meal with Phoebe, Roger and the Earl. “Have I missed something?” he asked. “There is a great solemnity in the air this evening.”

  “Miss Bennet’s brother passed this morning,” Phoebe told him. “It was unexpected and tragic. We are sad for her, that is all.”

  “What terrible news. I have always had a great fondness for Miss Bennet. I remember her patience with us when we were children. She always saw the humor in our antics; she was never one to be strict or stern.”

  “She is the motherly type.”

  “Thank the heavens, for I was lacking in maternal provisions,” the Earl said. “Without Miss Bennet, my Phoebe would have been quite the hoyden. No doubt she would have chosen to wear trousers and a tailcoat rather than dresses without Miss Bennet’s gentle guidance.”

  “Surely my hair would not have been brushed for many years,” Phoebe agreed. The thought made her eyes brim with tears again. She dabbed at them with a napkin from the table. “Dear me, there I go again with my tears. I am so sorry for her.”

  Roger offered her a comforting smile. “Miss Bennet has a deep strength of character. She will recover quickly from her grief.”

  Evan, who was sitting opposite her, reached over to lay his hand atop hers. “Your compassion is at the root of all your charm, My Lady. God bless you for your kind heart.”

  She smiled at him. Truly, Phoebe had missed Evan. She had missed him as the friend and brother she had considered him. Although she had never harbored a romantic love for him, she admired his benevolence and the way he always recognized and celebrated the goodness in others. She’d missed his tales of seafaring adventures and the little smiles he cast across the table.

  Yet looking at him only made her think of Owen; it only made her long for her true love. In Evan’s smile, she saw only Owen’s. Running through her mind were the fleeting memories of hours spent on hills, in groves, and on the lake. Every secret and stolen moment with Owen was seared into her heart, never to be erased by time or any other gentleman.

  Her father changed the subject. “But there is good news ahead for us all.” He beamed at Phoebe with pride. “The two of you will be married by this hour in three weeks’ time.”

  Phoebe’s stomach seemed to turn over within her making a terrible nausea rise and her head spin. She had made a promise to her father she simply couldn’t keep and a vow to Evan that she would break. Either her father would die before her marriage and she would elope with Owen, or he would live to see her wed Evan, and she would leave him shortly after.

  As she considered these two options, she felt the dreadful realization that Owen was right. She would never be able to leave Evan if she had already made her vows to him. It would go against her own nature and her promise to the Lord.

  “Are the plans underway?”

  Evan nodded. “I have taken care of anything. Bentley will never have seen a wedding of its kind. The wedding ceremony will take place at Saint Mark’s chapel and all the local inhabitants of the town will be invited. Afterward, there will be a splendid evening of dancing and celebration upon the grounds of Bentley Manor.”

  “A party!” the Earl smiled broadly. “Quite a leap from the usual small, family affair. Anyone would think it was a royal wedding.”

  “There is so much cause for celebration,” Evan responded. “This is a union of true love. It does not happen often enough.”

  Phoebe looked down at her plate. This is not true love.

  “Who else will be in attendance?” Roger asked.

  “My family, of course, with Lord Boltmon as my best man. And I believe Phoebe has made selection of her bridesmaids.”

  She nodded. “Lady Ann and Miss Bennet—although I imagine she has higher priorities now. Perhaps it will be Lady Ann alone.”

  The Earl almost choked on his pheasant. “Lady Ann! Is that not the lady who once courted Lord Boltmon?”

  “She has become a dear friend.” She raised her chin defiantly. “Besides, what does that matter now? It is not Lord Boltmon I am marrying.”

  “And your governess,” Lord Wycliffe continued. “Quite the unusual choices.”

  “Miss Bennet cannot simply be a backseat attendant at my wedding. She has been like a mother to me. She will stand and be recognized by the congregation as one who is dear to me.”

  “Such loyalty,” Evan commented. “I am ever amazed by your grace, My Lady. Even with such an injury as I sustained upon that ship, I cannot believe I failed to recall your sweetness.”

  Phoebe was uncomfortable as he complimented her. They were as compliments from a stranger, certainly not from a romantic suitor, certainly not from a fiancé. She could not picture him as such.

  In her younger years, she had torn herself in two trying to find room in her heart for Evan and Owen both. Now her heart was completely full of Owen, and Evan’s love for her felt like a burden upon her shoulders.

  “How is your memory these days, Lord Huxley?” Lord Wycliffe asked. “Are there still aspects of your life you cannot recall?”

  “My mind is not as sharp as once it was. I forget details easily and often have to be reminded half a dozen times of something I would have easily recalled before the wreck. Sometimes I am not sure if the images in my mind are memory or imagination. Sometimes I see something, or hear something, or taste it, and it is only then that it brings back a memory I had forgotten.”

  “An example?”

  “Just the other morning I tried a scone with jam. All at once, I was at a garden party at twelve years of age, watching the geese chase the scullery maid. I would never have remembered that day if I had not tasted that jam.”

  “Remarkable!” The Earl shook his head slowly. “We still understand so little of the human mind and all its complexities. We are blessed you ever recovered your memory at all. It brought you back to us.”

  “It is good to be home,” Evan agreed.

  “And what of the Philippines?” Phoebe asked him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were there for two years. If I’d been somewhere for two years, I imagine I’d miss it when I left the place. We know hardly a thing about your time there. Where did you live? Did you have acquaintances? Did you h
ave any occupation?”

  Evan cleared his throat and took a sip of water from the glass in front of him. Phoebe sensed there was something he was reluctant to reveal. It had seemed odd to her that in all the time he had been back that he had not once given details as to the years he was absent.

  “That is an interesting question,” Lord Wycliffe agreed. “I have asked about the night of the storm and your plans for now you are home, but I have heard little of what happened in the years you were away.”

  “I was recovering for the most part. I was resident in a hospital there for almost eighteen months before I acted as an assistant to a fisherman.”

  Lord Wycliffe smiled. “You were still drawn to the sea.”

  “Will you be drawn to it again?” Phoebe looked up fiercely to meet Evan’s eye. “Will you risk your life again for whatever pleasure you find upon the waves?”

  “For now I am pleased to set my feet upon solid ground.”

  “And we are pleased to have you with us.” Lord Wycliffe raised his glass to Evan. “Thank Heavens you are home and safe.”

  Chapter 28

  Phoebe kissed him as if she were a diver drawing air after being under the water a long time. Owen could feel the desperation in the way she held onto him. Her longing was evident and overwhelming.

  He embraced her tightly and kissed her back, right under their favorite tree on Cannock hill.

  “Oh, Owen, how I’ve missed you!”

  “I’ve missed you too.” He kissed her forehead. “Tell me, how is your father?”

  “He has pains in his chest and he is often short of breath. It is certain he is growing weaker, but how long he has left is hard to say.”

  Owen nodded. “And Evan? Have you spent much time with him?”

  “He has come by on several occasions to see me.”

  “I see.”

  Phoebe nudged Owen. “Don’t be jealous. My heart is always yours.”

  “You’re still wearing your ring.”

  “It is our promise that we love one another.”

  “As the glass house was a promise of your love for Evan?” Owen sighed. “You are still trying to give love to everyone who demands it of you. The glass house has stood now for three years and flourished even after Evan was gone and long after it lost its meaning. Will you still be wearing my engagement ring when Evan’s wedding band rests upon it?”

  “The glass house served as a memorial for a dear friend I believed to be dead, Owen. You know that. It was not a symbol of love as this ring is a symbol.”

  “Evan and my father have been talking about the arrangements. There is to be an incredible party, I hear.”

  “Owen…”

  “And you have chosen your bridesmaids,” Owen grimaced, “and I am to be the best man.” He swallowed. “I always imagined if I were ever to be standing at the head of an aisle watching you come toward me, it would be because I was to be your husband, not to watch you marry another.”

  Owen looked at her and saw the struggle in her expression. She clasped her hands together under her chin and her eyes were filled with such guilt. She hung her head and took deep breaths, trying to control her emotions; it seemed she cried as readily as she drew breath these days.

  “We are losing our chance to leave together, Phoebe,” he reminded her. “Once you take Evan’s hand in marriage, the stakes become much higher. You will not be abandoning a fiancé, but your husband. I know it is not in you to do such a thing.”

  Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against Owen’s chest. “Please don’t talk about it anymore. I simply want to have this time with you without thinking of any of that.”

  “We must think of it, Phoebe. Will we continue an affair under my brother’s nose? If you marry him, our options are thus: we run away and you break your vows and irreparably destroy your reputation, possibly even incurring criminal charges. We will never be able to marry as you would be a bigamist. Or, we continue to sneak around and steal our moments behind his back and we will be true adulterers. The last option is to simply let go of what is between us as we had once convinced ourselves we were able.”

  “I can’t do any of those things.”

  “Then we should leave before you make any vow. We can still go somewhere remote and beautiful to build our lives together where nobody knows us.”

  “And my father would die alone.” Phoebe wrung her hands together. “Every option I consider makes me feel I would be a worse person than the last. I made none of these decisions, Owen, yet I am responsible for every outcome. I feel cursed.”

  Owen closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. For all his frustration and anger, he could not find it in him to harbor resentment for a lady he knew simply wished to honor her father. She loved the Earl, and she cared for Evan. She wished to hurt nobody–but someone would be hurt.

  It will be us.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?” Owen stepped into the living room just in time to see the Duchess throw a bundle of envelopes into the fireplace. They immediately began to burn, curling at the edges, their fine wax seals melting into unrecognizable slime. “Are those the wedding invitations?”

  The Duchess scowled. “They are not Prince Leopold and Princess Charlotte. There is no need for such extravagance.”

  “Evan was resurrected.”

  “Do not compare Evan to Christ.”

  “His return was a miracle. There is every need for extravagance and celebration!”

  “And who will pay for such idolatries? I doubt it will Lord Wycliffe.”

  “It is Evan who is insistent on such splendor, not Lady Phoebe. And why shouldn’t he be? He has been away from comfort and grandeur for a long time.”

  “He does not need to invite these people. They are strangers to him now.”

  “You are despicable, purposefully sabotaging your own son’s vows.”

  The Duchess raised her eyebrows, took hold of the remaining envelopes and threw them into the flames. “I doubt he will even remember who he invited in the first instance. Perhaps his second attempt will see fewer irrelevant parties extended a welcome.”

  Chapter 29

  Dear Lady Phoebe,

  I write with the most wonderful news. Edward is alive and well.

  I do not understand what kind of confusion caused word to come to me that he had perished, but it has no basis in fact. Not only is Edward still with us, but he reports there have been no fatalities in the mines for some six months. He is as confused as I as to why any such news would have been sent to me. We cannot fathom who wrote the letter or what kind of misunderstanding must have transpired for me to have received such wrongful information.

  Let it be said I am relieved, to say the least. I cried without stopping all the way from Wycliffe to Windermere and nearly fainted when I found that Edward was very much alive. It is the second time this year someone has risen from the grave.

  Although the news is good, I have decided to stay. It has been many years since last I saw Edward and Alice and I have learned that she is again with child. I will stay a further week or so to help prepare them for the baby and to spend some time with my brother.

  The views here are incredible. You would be inspired to see such tall mountains and such still lakes. I have spent many hours already in contemplation. I cannot remember the last time I took a break from service and it is good to feel the fresh air upon my face.

  I promise I will be back before you say your vows.

  Your loving bridesmaid,

  Miss Bennet

  Phoebe scowled in rage. She could guess precisely who had penned such a wicked letter. Only the Duchess would stoop so low to get her way. Clearly, she had sent the letter to deprive Phoebe of Miss Bennet when she needed her the most.

  She stormed downstairs, letter from Miss Bennet in hand, to confront her father.

  He was drinking coffee in the drawing-room while reading the morning paper.

  “Father, I have just had word f
rom Miss Bennet.”

  The Earl raised his head in interest. “How is the poor lady?”

  “Relieved to find her brother is alive and well.” She threw the letter down atop his paper and waited for him to read every line. “I know it is Lady Bentley who has done this. I have no proof but I know without a doubt it is she.”

  “I believe you, my child.” He heaved a heavy sigh, slowly folding his paper and laying it with the letter upon the side table. “She has been sending many letters, it seems. I have also received one.”