Under An English Moon

by Bess McBride

  Phoebe snapped out of her romantic reverie and turned to see Samuel jump up to pour himself another drink and swallow it. Phoebe, Reggie, Mattie, and William exchanged concerned glances.

  He retook his seat and scanned the room, pausing on Mattie and Phoebe before allowing his gaze to rest on Reggie.

  “I suspect that Mrs. Sinclair or Miss Warner might have already deduced the nature of my revelation and shared that information with you.”

  Phoebe and Mattie exchanged glances. Uh oh. As if there hadn’t been enough bombshells for one day, Samuel was about to mention he had a girlfriend.

  “Not me!” Phoebe piped up. “We promised.” She threw a look at Reggie, who stiffened.

  “This secret then concerned my brother?” Reggie asked with narrowed eyes directed toward her.

  Phoebe nodded and chewed her lip.

  “You promised?” Samuel asked. “Not to me. I did not have occasion to speak to you on the matter. Did you speak to...” He left the words hanging.

  “I’m afraid I did, Samuel,” Mattie said. “I butt in where I shouldn’t have. I should have known better.”

  “Dearest, I am afraid you will shock Reggie and Samuel with that particular colloquialism,” William said with a broad smile bordering on laughter.

  “Butt in?” Reggie said. “I can only assume you mean by ‘butt in,’ you mean interfere?” He looked from face to face. “But in what matter? Will someone please explain what is going on here? Phoebe?”

  Phoebe couldn’t stand watching Reggie in such an uncomfortable position. She was sure Mattie would have shared the news with William by now, as he didn’t seem in the least confused. If Samuel didn’t say something in the next two minutes, she was going to break her promise to Sarah. It wasn’t worth watching Reggie struggle to understand something that everyone else already knew. She loved him way too much for that.

  “Samuel, say something,” Phoebe implored. “If you don’t, I will.”

  “I was about to disclose all before I was interrupted. What I wished to announce, in the absence of Father and Lady Hamilton, is that I too have met a young lady, and I wish to be married as well.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You!” Reggie exclaimed. “But Samuel, this is wonderful news! Pray tell me her name. I am so pleased for you!” Reggie enfolded his brother in a brief embrace that astonished even him. They were not used to such spontaneous demonstrations of affection or congratulation. He supposed it to be the influence of his newfound love.

  Samuel, cheeks bright, straightened his coat. “Please, Brother, desist with pawing at me. I fear you will not be pleased with my choice.”

  Reggie straightened his own coat and the smile faded from his face at his brother’s downcast eyes. Was Samuel not happy? As happy as Reggie was now?

  “What could elicit such a somber expression, Samuel? I am sure your choice of future wife will please me if she pleases you. Whom you choose should be no concern of mine,” Reggie said. He looked to Phoebe whose eyes shone with love, and his heart fluttered at the pride he saw in her eyes.

  “Very well,” Samuel said as if in doubt. “Her name is Sarah Tollerton. She owns the dressmaking shop in the village.”

  Reggie thought he could not have heard correctly. A dressmaking shop?

  “She what?” he asked.

  “She owns the dressmaking shop in the village. You saw her only this morning when you took Mrs. Sinclair and Miss Warner to town. I assume they deduced almost immediately that my business there was not on behalf of our stepmother, but you did not.”

  Reggie shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs. He vaguely remembered a young woman opening the door to the shop, dark hair, a pleasing countenance. She seemed to know who he was, but he had not previously met her as he had never before had occasion to frequent dress shops.

  “A dressmaker, Samuel? You cannot marry a dressmaker!”

  “Reggie!” Phoebe cried out. She rose swiftly and faced him. “Why ever not?”

  Samuel turned to Phoebe. “I am surprised you need ask, Miss Warner. As you must know, Miss Tollerton is deemed to come from another class of people, though her father was born of a respectable family. As the youngest son of a squire, he took orders and became a country parson. Upon his death, he left nothing for his only daughter and, because Miss Tollerton was forced into the trades, she is considered an unsuitable wife for the second son of an earl.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Reggie’s not like that,” Phoebe said. “Maybe your father is, but Reggie doesn’t think like that, do you?”

  Reggie looked at his dear love who regarded him with a look of hope and trust in her eyes. He could tell her the truth...or he could lie, but he had sworn never to lie to her.

  “It pains me to say this, both to you, Samuel, and to you, my love, but Miss Tollerton’s situation in life renders her an unacceptable wife for Samuel. No children of the Earl of Hamilton have ever married someone in the trades. It simply is not done. Father would never countenance such a match.”

  Phoebe faltered and grabbed the edge of the settee, staring at him with wide eyes. Samuel turned away and headed for the buffet and a drink. Mattie wore an expression of disappointment and looked away to watch Samuel. Only William seemed to regard Reggie with anything resembling understanding.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Phoebe almost begged. Reggie understood she gave him an opportunity to retract his words, but to lie to her, to renounce everything he had ever understood about the nobility, forbade it.

  “I do not jest, Phoebe. I think it must be different in your time.”

  She looked over her shoulder toward Samuel who stood by the buffet but apparently did not hear Reggie’s accidental reference to “time.”

  “Well, of course it is.” She jabbed a thumb unceremoniously toward her breast. “I’m different. I’m in the trades. I’m a nobody. How can you marry me but Samuel can’t marry Sarah Tollerton? It’s hypocritical!”

  Reggie reached out a hand to her. “Phoebe, please. Let us speak of this in private. It is not the same.”

  “No, it is the same,” she said as tears ran down her face. “I don’t know why you can’t see that, or were you marrying me despite what you considered to be a flawed upbringing? Sarah Tollerton and I are just alike—whether I work as a publisher or as a seamstress.”

  “Phoebe, please,” Reggie said ineffectually. He did not know what he wanted. That she return the look of love to her eyes? That she desist in believing she and the dressmaker were of the same class? That the entire conversation had never begun at all?

  Phoebe shook her head. “I don’t know you at all, do I, Reggie? This is the wife in the attic, isn’t it? This is the reason we can’t get married.” With that, she turned and ran from the room. He heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs.

  Mattie rose to follow without a backward glance.

  “Forgive me, Reggie,” Samuel said in a now-slurred voice. “It was not my intention to upset Miss Warner when I revealed my news. Although I did accurately predict how you would receive the news, I did not imagine this would occur.” He nodded over his shoulder toward the doorway.

  “By this, do you mean the end of my engagement?” Reggie said in a strangled voice. He poured himself a drink.

  William joined them. “I am at a loss for words, gentlemen. You both have my utmost sympathies.” He poured himself a drink as well. “Let us remove to the library where we may speak in private. Surely, there is room for compromise.”

  Reggie followed Samuel and William into the library where the drink was more plentiful and more potent.

  He slumped into a chair, unable to comprehend the ramifications of what had just occurred. Samuel threw himself into another chair, as morose as he. Reggie tried to find the wits to think of Samuel’s misery and what he must have suffered for some time as he fell in love with Miss Tollerton. But at the moment, Reggie could only think of his own misery, the end of his dreams.

  “Come, gentlemen. It is not
as glum as all that. Love is a wondrous happy thing. It is only people who remove the joy from it.”

  Reggie stared at his stepbrother with a wry expression.

  “Have you become a poet then, William?”

  William smiled. “I have indeed. I am proof, gentlemen, that love will find a way. Though there be obstacles in your paths, I truly believe that love will conquer all.”

  “I believed that as well, I truly did, but it has not come to pass,” Reggie said morosely. “I cannot change who I am, or not as much as apparently Miss Warner would wish me to. Perhaps she would be better off with someone of her own time.”

  “Nonsense,” William said.

  “I cannot help but feel that I have come between you and Miss Warner, Reggie,” Samuel said in an equally morose voice.

  Reggie shook his head. “It was my words that Miss Warner objected to, Samuel, not you. I am the cause of the demise of our engagement. But I could not lie to her. Father would indeed never countenance a match between you and Miss Tollerton, and you must have his blessing.”

  “Because I have no income of my own,” Samuel muttered.

  “Yes, that is correct,” Reggie said.

  “But I could learn a trade myself. I wish to become a solicitor. Then I could support a wife.”

  “A solicitor!” William exclaimed. “What a capital idea!”

  “A solicitor!” Reggie echoed. “When did you decide that?”

  “Some time ago,” Samuel said, “after I knew I wished to make Miss Tollerton my wife. I knew I should need a profession, and the law holds interest for me.”

  “Did you discuss this with Father?”

  “Yes, I attempted to...on the same night that you stormed out and disappeared, a most inopportune time. He refused to hear of it and forbade me to speak of it again. I cannot study for the law without his financial assistance.”

  “Well, there is one thing that you can aid your brother with, Reggie,” William said. “You can lend or give Samuel the money for his education, ensuring that he is able to support himself and a family independent of your father. For if you do not assist him, then what future has he as the second son of an earl? That of a poor country parson?”

  At his last words, Reggie swung his head toward William who watched him with a raised brow.

  “Egads!” Reggie exclaimed. “I had not thought of that. What was your future meant to be, Samuel? Did you and Father ever discuss such a thing? Surely, he didn’t insist upon you taking orders, did he?”

  Samuel shook his head. “No, nothing of the sort. I have only recently imagined that my life must have some meaning, a function other than that of second son to an earl. It was when I met Miss Tollerton that I realized I served no purpose. I neither added nor took from society...from the world around me. I simply existed to read books.”

  “An aimless existence,” William said quietly.

  Reggie studied his brother. “What do other families do?” he mused.

  “I believe second sons take orders, take a commission in the Army or Navy, or become physicians,” William offered.

  “None of those interest me as much as studying the law,” Samuel said.

  Reggie stared at the brown liquid of his brandy. Images of Phoebe’s distraught face haunted him, bringing an ache to his chest, but he tried to push them from his mind. His dimmed wits would only allow him to attend to one matter at a time.

  “No, I cannot imagine you in any of those professions,” Reggie said with a wry smile. “I will pay for you to attend school, Samuel. William is correct. That is one thing I can do for you, and I am pleased to do so. Whether or not you choose to marry Miss Tollerton must be your decision and your decision alone.” He swallowed hard, trying to imagine what Phoebe might wish for him to say. “I will support you in your choice of wife, and she will be welcome in my home. I think she may wish to set up her own establishment though, and I imagine you would need to wait to marry until you have completed your schooling and are able to afford your own lodgings. I may be of assistance in that matter as well if you wish.”

  William rose and clapped him on the back with a broad grin. “Well done, Reggie! That is more than any brother could hope for, do you not agree, Samuel?”

  Samuel jumped up hastily and began to pace, albeit with a drunken tilt. “I cannot accept your generous offer, Reggie. How could I ever repay you?”

  “Do not be a pudding head, Samuel,” Reggie said. “It is simply a matter of birth that I inherited my own money and you did not. I have enough for both of us.” He rose. “The matter is settled. Though how you broach the subject with Father is not. If you wish, I can accompany you when you speak to him.”

  “About becoming a solicitor or my impending betrothal? For I do intend to ask Miss Tollerton to become my wife, Reggie.”

  “Yes, I am firmly convinced of that, Samuel. Both. I will stand by both your decisions. You may rely upon me.”

  “Thank you, Reggie. I could not wish for a better brother.” Samuel bowed.

  “Well, gentleman, a good day’s work I would say. I must see to the rest of the house. My daughter must be wondering where her parents are. I imagine it is almost time for dinner.”

  “I am for the village. Do not wait dinner for me,” Samuel said with a hesitant look in Reggie’s direction. “Is there anything I can say to Miss Warner to ease the situation?”

  Reggie shook his head. “No, there is nothing. Thank you. I have disappointed her. When I first proposed marriage, she said she did not know me well enough, but she acquiesced and accepted my proposal. It seems she has reverted to her original concerns that we do not know each other well enough, and I must honor that.”

  “I am sorry for it,” Samuel said quietly as he followed William from the library, leaving Reggie still seated.

  “Yes, I am too,” Reggie said quietly. “Take a groom with you, Samuel. You have imbibed overly much to be alone in the saddle.”

  “I will,” Samuel said.

  ****

  An hour later, Reggie stepped onto the terrace of his new house and surveyed the soft purple hues of the river and the plains beyond as night settled onto the landscape. He should not have come but felt he could not stay at Ashton House for the moment. He did not think he could bear to see Phoebe at dinner, to feel the disappointment in her eyes as she regarded him over the dinner table. He had left a note for Mattie explaining that he would be absent from dinner, citing some vague errand.

  He spied a stone bench against the wall that flanked the bay windows, and he sat down heavily. It seemed unlikely but it had only been a matter of hours since Phoebe had stood on the same terrace and admired the view, her hand entwined in his. The future had seemed bright and full of promise. Now, it seemed bleak and lonely. He had no intention of abandoning the purchase of the house for he would never return to his father’s house—not while his father still lived. He would be master in his own home, and the “castle,” as Phoebe had called it, would be his.

  Soft moonlight glowed on the stone balustrade of the terrace, and he glanced up. The moon, seemingly still impossibly full, presided in the sky. Moonlight wishes, he sighed. They seemed so long ago.

  He closed his eyes and tried to free his mind of all thought—memories both joyous and sad, smiles, embraces, the disillusionment in Phoebe’s eyes when she turned away. Exhausted, he leaned his head back into a crevice of the wall and he relaxed into sleep.

  The sound of a horse’s snort and wheels awakened him, and he bolted upright, confused as to his location. The terrace of the new house. He turned to stride toward the front of the house but arrested when he saw Phoebe come around the corner. Moonlight lit her way.

  “Phoebe? How did you come?”

  She jumped as if startled by his voice.

  “A groom brought me in the carriage. He’s waiting for me,” she said almost hesitantly. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here, but I thought you might.”

  His heart pounded, and he knew not what to say. He held his brea
th and waited.

  “I want to go home, Reggie, and you’re the only one who can help me do that.”

  Only a superior strength from some inner aspect of his being kept him on his feet, for the searing in his heart seemed to weaken his legs. Could one man bear so much pain in a single day?

  “As you wish,” he said hoarsely. “What can I do?”

  She looked at him, startled. “That’s it? Okay? You’re not going to argue?”

  He had not thought Phoebe to be a cruel sort of person, but he wondered at her now. Did she not understand how much agony he suffered?

  “A gentleman does not argue with a lady, Miss Warner,” Reggie said in a leaden voice. “I would never seek to inhibit your desire to return to your own time.”

  “How nice of you,” she muttered.

  Reggie thought he saw the shine of moisture on her face but that seemed unlikely given her desire to return home. He had not understood the depth to which he had disappointed her. Her voice held a note of derision as if she despised him.

  “Your moral codes and values will change over time, Reggie. It’s just too bad some of them can’t change sooner.”

  “Do you refer to Miss Tollerton?” Reggie said on a ragged note. He did not wish to discuss the wretched dressmaker.

  “Partly, but mostly because you’re willing to let me go without a fight.”

  Reggie shook his head. “A fight? Do you mean a tousle? Should I restrain you, hold you against your will? Ah! I know! Lock you away in an attic until you find a way to love me—all of me.”

  “I do love all of you,” Phoebe shouted with a stomp of her foot. “More than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get used to some of the things around here—things that wouldn’t be a problem in my time—but for crying out loud, I’ve only been here a few days!”

  “Yes, that is true, Miss Warner!” Reggie said in a harsh voice. “And a few days is all it will be if you choose to leave tonight!”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on leaving you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she sputtered. “I just need to get back and leave a note for Annie. I can’t let her think you killed me and disappeared into England.”