Lady in Demand

by Wendy Vella

  “Avoidance, Finn? Another first for the man who believes in straight talking,” Will said pleasantly. Finn suspected his tone was because he did not want to alert his wife to the conversation they were having.

  “Just remember what I said about appearances being deceiving, my friend. Phoebe is a very special person and what you see every night is not necessarily the real woman Livvy and I know and love.”

  Finn wrinkled his brow at that cryptic statement. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that behind a person’s façade could lay insecurities and a past that you have no knowledge of; in fact, I am not party to all of it I’m sure,” Will added slowly.

  “You’ve been around women to long,” Finn grunted. “You’re talking in circles.”

  “Sssh.”

  “That was a very loud ‘sssh’, darling.” Will took his wife’s hand as she glared at both him and Finn.

  Leaning back in his chair, Finn saw the back of Phoebe’s head. Did she have insecurities and things in her past that had molded her into the woman she was today?

  “Excuse me. Oh, I do apologize.”

  Finn stood to let the latecomer, Miss Wooller, pass as the gap between the seats was two narrow to just turn, and his legs were too long. Beside him, Will did the same.

  She passed Livvy, and Finn leaned forward to watch her settle in a chair next to Phoebe. He hadn’t known that Miss Wooller and Phoebe were friends yet they must be if they were now seated together. He supposed she was pretty in a graceful almost regal way, but seated next to the she-devil, everyone faded into the background.

  “Finn, I need to tell you something that has been churning around inside my head all day.

  Finn straightened in his seat at the serious tone in Will’s voice. “Tell me.”

  “I saw Alex coming out of a gambling hell today, and after what happened previously, I believed you should know.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You’re late, Hannah.”

  Phoebe watched her new friend settle herself before she answered.

  “Father knew I was stalling in my room so in the end he just dragged me out of it and into the carriage.”

  “I think I would like to meet your father.”

  Hannah looked at the stage as Madame Picuoult hit a high note.

  “Dear lord, she just perforated my ear drums,” she complained, pressing a finger into her ear.

  For the remainder of the musical Phoebe kept her eyes on the performers, however her mind she had on something else. Was she spoiled? Perhaps before her parents died she had been, but not now surely? Yes, she did not like to be told off, yet show her one person who did? And he had no right to speak to her that way as they barely knew each other.

  “Oh lord, tell me that is it and we are not just being teased with a short break,” Hannah whispered as the music stopped. “Tell me it is over,” she moaned.

  Phoebe pulled her thoughts from Lord Levermarch and looked once again at her friend. “Yes, it’s over you heathen, and now we can leave these uncomfortable seats and circle the room.” Phoebe took her friend’s arm as they both rose, and after chatting briefly with Will and Livvy, she ignored Lord Levermarch, and they left to walk into the crowd of milling guests.

  “Good evening, ladies.”

  Phoebe smiled at Alex as he approached. He wore a waistcoat of emerald and ivory this evening and he should have looked outrageous, but instead looked handsome.

  “Mr. Hetherington, how wonderful to see you again.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, taking her hand and bowing over it. “I have made contact with a woman who is a French seamstress. I will set up a meeting when it suits you both.”

  “Wonderful,” Phoebe said, and then they chatted about the weather as an elderly couple passed by.

  “Come, we shall move to the corner over there,” Alex said, nodding towards the rear of the room. “We can chat and have our backs covered, so we need only worry about someone approaching from the front.”

  “You make it sounds as though we are about to go into battle, Alex.”

  “Phoebe, if my elder brother hears what I am doing, we will be at war. Have no doubts on that score.”

  Looking behind her, Phoebe saw Lord Levermarch over the top of several guests’ heads. His eyes met hers briefly before he turned away. Yes, he would be formidable when angered, she was sure.

  “Would we commit some ridiculous indiscretion in the eyes of society if we moved through those doors to take in a much needed breath of clean air instead?”

  Phoebe looked to where Hannah was pointing and could see no reason for them not to step outside for a few minutes.

  “You two go ahead and I shall procure you both a glass of that noxious, sweet concoction the hostess was bragging about when I arrived,” Alex said. “Then it will give me a reason to join you outside.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Hannah drawled, taking Phoebe’s arm after he had departed.

  They smiled and nodded, making their way to the doors, and then slipped through.

  “I miss the country at times like this.” Hannah took a deep breath as they reached the stone balustrade.

  “I miss it, too,” Phoebe agreed as they walked along the stone balcony to look down at the gardens below minutes later. “I miss the freedom of walking or riding when and where I like. I miss Henny and Giblet but most of all I miss the night sky,” she added.

  “I thought you couldn’t ride?”

  “I said I was hopeless, not that I couldn’t ride,” Hannah amended. “It looks different to the city sky, Phoebe, don’t you think?” she added, looking out into the darkness.

  “Before I answer that I must know who Henny and Giblet are,” Phoebe said, releasing Hannah to brace her hands on the balustrade and peer down into the darkness below.

  “My pig and chicken.”

  “Of course they are, silly me. And to answer your question, yes, the sky looks different here, which is strange don’t you think? Considering it’s the same sky.”

  “Hmmm,” Hannah murmured, wandering further around the deck.

  “My pig was called Trotter.”

  Hannah snuffled as she heard Phoebe’s words. “I wish I’d met you on my first night in London.”

  Phoebe nodded her agreement. Sometimes you met someone and knew with a certainty they were meant to be in your life. Hannah, Phoebe knew, was going to be one of those people.

  “I know you have doubts about Alex, Hannah. However, it is my belief that he will be a very good business partner. He is smart like his older brother and has a wonderful flare for both fashion and color. I would hate for you to turn him aside just because he is a man, as that hardly seems fair considering the prejudices we often face.”

  Hannah walked away from Phoebe as she thought about her words and they both studied the night sky in silence for several minutes.

  “Of course you are right and now I feel guilty for my earlier behavior towards him.”

  “You shall soon get used to his handsome looks and not give them another thought,” Phoebe added with a sly smile.

  “I do not think him handsome!”

  “Excellent, then we shall have no further problems.”

  “No, we shall not,” Hannah agreed.

  “Will has offered to give me the money, Hannah, and I would like to set up a time to show you the warehouses where he keeps his goods tomorrow if that suits you?

  Hannah returned to Phoebe’s side where she rested her bottom on the stone, oblivious to the damage it was possibly doing to her skirts.

  “I told my father about you and how we were about to become firm friends and business partners, and do you know what he said to me?”

  “Stay away from that harlot; she will lead you down Satan’s path?”

  Phoebe found herself laughing as Hannah snuffled. It really was a sweet sound.

  “He said he believed you could use a friend after losing both your parents at such a young age. H
e also said that he liked a woman who spoke her mind and that, for once, your beauty was matched by your intelligence.”

  Phoebe couldn’t stand empty flattery from anyone; however, she felt a rush of pleasure from Hannah’s words.

  “Your father doesn’t even know me.”

  “My father knows everyone. Not personally, but there are not many people he hasn’t some information about, especially how much money they have down to the last penny.”

  “He sounds wonderful and a lot like Will.”

  “I believe they are well acquainted with each other and Lord Levermarch.”

  Phoebe didn’t want to talk about him.

  “It will be hard not to mention Alex, though, don’t you think, Hannah, as I’m sure you do not have secrets you hide from your father as I do not from my family.”

  “I’ve thought about that and I think we should say we have an investor who wishes to remain anonymous, Phoebe.”

  “That may just work.”

  They were silent for a while before Hannah said, “I’m sorry you lost both your parents, Phoebe.”

  “Thank you. Do you have siblings, Hannah?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “You will have to explain that statement,” Phoebe demanded, intrigued and more than happy to pursue the change in subject. Speaking about her parents always made her feel raw and exposed, like she had a wound deep inside her that was not quite healed.

  “My father’s sister died during the birth of her first child and her husband would take no responsibility for the babe. My father and I went to visit one week after her funeral because Papa was worried for the child. My uncle would not let us enter the house, so father simply knocked him to the ground and stomped over him. I was sixteen and loved the drama of the occasion,” Hannah said. “We found the babe. She was lying in filth, soiled clothes, sores on her poor bottom. Pitifully thin, her cries were so weak it broke my heart.”

  “That’s horrible. Why would someone treat an innocent babe like that?”

  “Father said he had never liked the man. Had a weak chin, apparently, and was living off his wife’s dowry.”

  “I really must meet your father.”

  “You will.”

  “Finish the story, Hannah,” Phoebe prompted.

  “I stripped the babe and wrapped it in the cleanest blanket I could find. I remember picking her up. She was so weak, but she rested her head against my chest and stopped crying. Father swears she sighed and closed her eyes, finally at peace in my arms.”

  “I hope your father did something terrible to that man before leaving!”

  “He made him sign a piece of paper handing the child over to us; he forced him to sign it by holding a knife to his neck.”

  “What happened then?” Phoebe questioned, enthralled by the tale.

  “We left the house, only stopping briefly at a nearby farmhouse where we got some milk for the babe, and then we took her home.”

  “And?” Phoebe prodded.

  Hannah’s sigh was loud and long. “And we spoilt her atrociously. She’s now ten and totally obnoxious.”

  “And what is the name of the atrociously spoilt child who you love very much?”

  “We named her Bridgette after her mother.”

  “You have just restored my faith in my fellow man.”

  “What are you discussing? Have I missed anything?” Alex arrived with their drinks. “Don’t gulp them. I saw someone have a coughing fit after he took a mouthful. The man looked as if he was having an apoplexy.”

  Phoebe eyed the glass warily as he handed it to her, then sniffed it and wrinkled her nose at the sweet smell.

  “You have missed nothing, Alex, we were just chatting while we awaited your return,” she added.

  “Did either of you see Lady Hatching’s dress,” Alex said. “The blue velvet is totally wrong on her and swamps her slight figure. However, the cream satin van dyke point edging was superb.”

  Hannah and Phoebe both blinked at the same time and looked up at Alex.

  “What?”

  “It’s just going to take some getting used to, hearing you speak in such a way,” Phoebe said. “You’re so…manly, for want of a better word,” she added. “It will take some adjustment on our parts.”

  “Manly, really?” Alex smiled and drew back his shoulders which made them both laugh.

  “I must admit to admiring Miss Kipling’s hem. It had tiny rosebuds embroidered into the band.”

  “I saw that, too,” Phoebe nodded to Hannah.

  The next few minutes were spent discussing various gowns, and then Alex said he had some ideas for fitting out the inside of the boutique, which both Hannah and Phoebe agreed with after hearing the details.

  “You three appear deep in conversation.”

  She hadn’t heard him approach, which was a surprise, as Phoebe always seemed to sense Lord Levermarch before he appeared.

  “What were you discussing so intently?”

  Phoebe couldn’t form a single thought. Suddenly, her head was an empty cavern of nothingness. Dear God, had he heard Alex discussing satin van dyke trimmings?

  “Miss Wooller is trying to persuade me to eat offal, Finn. Apparently kidneys, and I quote, are food for the gods.”

  Phoebe swallowed the need to laugh at Alex’s words, as Lord Levermarch’s eyes swung from Alex to her.

  “In particular deviled kidneys, Lord Levermarch,” Hannah added.

  “Devilled kidneys,” he repeated slowly.

  “Quite, although I enjoy sweetbreads.” Hannah smiled.

  “Do you? Well, then, I must have Will’s cook give you her Battalia Pye recipe. It is simply delicious,” Phoebe said, joining the conversation now she had the need to laugh hysterically under control.

  “I cannot believe you are discussing animals’ organs.”

  “Finn’s just saying that because he doesn’t eat them himself,” Alex said. “Turns green at the sight of a kidney.”

  He was uncomfortable that Alex had told them he had a weakness. Phoebe could see it in the way he glared at his brother. The great Lord Levermarch, becoming ill at the sight of animal organs.

  “And now, Miss Wooller, I believe you promised me a dance.” Alex held out his hand, which Hannah immediately took. Giving Phoebe a look that she could not interpret, she then let him lead her inside.

  “Can I escort you, Miss Langley?”

  Phoebe shook her head as Lord Levermarch held out his hand, too.

  “You go in, my lord. I shall take a few more breaths of air before returning. Phoebe then turned to face the night sky, hoping he would leave.

  “You should not be here alone, Phoebe.”

  “I am within sight of the doorway and there are other people around, Lord Levermarch. Please return to your friends, as I am quite safe standing here.

  “I had no idea you, my brother and Miss Wooller were all so well acquainted.”

  He moved to stand behind her. Good manners dictated she should turn to face him, yet Phoebe didn’t want to. She had no wish to go a few more rounds with him tonight. Her head was filled with a tumble of thoughts about their new venture, and her wrist was starting to ache. She was not good company for anyone, least of all him.

  “I know your brother from my sister’s wedding and as Miss Wooller was with me when he approached, I introduced them.” She turned now, reluctantly. “Is there a problem with your brother associating with me or Miss Wooller, Lord Levermarch? Do we not meet your exacting standards for well-mannered young ladies? “

  She couldn’t see his face as the light was behind him, but she heard the snap of his teeth shutting. Then she was being urged along the deck before she could resist, by the large hand he had placed squarely in her back.

  “Release me at once!”

  He did when they were no longer in sight of the other guests. He turned her to face him and then, backing her into the stone balustrade, he braced his hand on either side of her body, thereby caging her inside his big body, and
heaven help her, she trembled at his nearness.

  “I may have annoyed you earlier, Phoebe, and perhaps my teasing was uncalled for, yet you seem to bring out something in me that demands I continually challenge you. However, up until today you have never been churlish or nasty. But what you just said was unjust, and I think I deserve another apology.”

  He was close, his face inches from hers. His frown made him look fierce but Phoebe wasn’t scared; she was excited. However, she was also ashamed. He was right. She was being churlish and mean. “Forgive me, my lord. I had no right to speak as I did. It seems you also bring out the worst in me, at times.”

  “I wonder why?” He moved closer.

  Phoebe’s body came alive as he closed the last few inches between them. His hand pushed her chin upwards.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Her eyes closed at the touch of his hand on her bruised face. For such a big man, he was gentle. Her skin tingled and she had the urge to lean into him and beg him to touch more of her.

  “No.”

  He lifted her wrist then and ran a large thumb over the satin of her gloves. She shouldn’t be able to feel the heat through the fabric, but she did, and it travelled slowly up her arm.

  “I can see by your eyes that you’re not telling me the truth, Phoebe. This also hurts you, doesn’t it?

  She nodded, unable to pull away. What was it about this man that made her want more of him? She wanted his big body pressed against hers, his arms around her.

  “Do you think if we call a truce it will last, Phoebe?”

  She shook her head. “No, I fear it would be hopeless to try.” He was so close now, his face just inches from hers. Before she gave herself time to think, Phoebe rose up on her toes and closed the distance.

  Finn almost moaned as their mouths met for the first time. That soft upper lip was heaven and she tasted like sin. Cupping her cheeks, he tilted her chin up and deepened the kiss. She made a small noise as her hands reached for him, clutching his jacket as she arched into him. Finn placed a hand on her spine and pulled her closer until her lush curves were pressed against his harder ones. His body tightened as she yielded beneath him. She felt as he’d known she would, like heaven in his arms, her soft, supple body fitting perfectly with his. Her lips were tentative but willing, and Finn lost every thought but her as his hands traveled up her sides until his fingers brushed the bottom of her breasts. She sighed as he cupped the swell, the tips of his fingers touching her bare skin above the bodice. He wanted to pull it down and devour every inch of her skin.