Finally, Phoebe’s heartbeat resumed a normal pace, her breathing, too, and she tugged on Benjamin’s hands so he would take his seat on the sofa beside her again. She put a hand to his cheek and, in a moment of bravado, leaned in to kiss him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she figured that must be better than a simple yes.
He returned the kiss, of course, at the same time gathering her in his arms and pulling her to sit on his lap. She breathed in the tangy scent of his shaving cream, feasted on his coffee-tainted lips, and moved her hands over the rigid muscles of his shoulders until she reached his hair. It had been mussed beyond repair when he arrived, so she didn’t take any care in running her fingers through it. She felt something harden beneath her bottom and wondered briefly at it before she heard a gasp that was not her own.
Alarmed, they both pulled away from the kiss and Benjamin stood abruptly, forcing Phoebe to her feet as well. She faltered slightly, but he steadied her and then stepped away.
Phoebe stared at her mother, who didn’t seem nearly as scandalized as she might have expected. However, Phoebe felt scandalized enough for both of them—perhaps all three of them—in that moment.
Finally, her mother, using her father’s old walking stick, hobbled into the room and walked right to Benjamin. “You must be Lord Glastonbury,” she said with a smile.
He nodded. “I am.”
“And are you going to marry my daughter?” she asked.
“It is my greatest hope to do so. However,” they both turned their gazes to her, “she hasn’t given me a proper answer yet.”
Chapter 10
Benjamin watched Phoebe’s scandalized expression as she opened her mouth to answer. Her cheeks blushed an attractive pink, and she avoided eye contact with her mother, but at last she said, “Of course I will marry you, Lord Glastonbury.”
Benjamin was about to place the emerald ring he still held in his hand on Phoebe’s finger when Becky’s voice came from the doorway.
“Pardon me, my lady. There’s a visitor here to see you.”
“A visitor?” Lady Grimsby cast Benjamin a brief glance that told him everything he needed to know. Colonel Wallace was here. “Please send him in, Becky.”
Benjamin crossed the room to help Lady Grimsby to the sofa, where she sank down with a grateful sigh. There weren’t a lot of options for seating, so he placed Phoebe on the sofa beside her mother and then took his stance by the fireplace, which he was happy to see had a fire in it today. Colonel Wallace, in all his rotund glory, arrived moments later and stopped short when he took in the picture before him.
Surely, he’d had the impression yesterday that Benjamin had arrived to claim his own payment for debt. The mere thought made him sick, but he’d been too dumbstruck to correct the man when they had met in Lady Grimsby’s bedchamber.
He wanted to kick himself for not trying harder to find the man last night. He’d stopped in at both his clubs and even visited the colonel’s favorite hell, to no avail. He thought of paying a visit to the man’s home, but he did not wish to spark any concern in Mrs. Wallace. The poor woman seemed to have it bad enough as it was, being married to the bastard.
“Lady Grimsby,” Wallace said as he bowed to her, a small drop of spittle escaping when he pronounced the ‘s.’ “It’s been a . . . long time.”
Benjamin narrowed his eyes on the man, who seemed to have grown rather nervous in the last minute. He acknowledged Phoebe first and then Benjamin, who gave no response.
“Indeed, Colonel,” said Lady Grimsby. “Won’t you have a seat?”
Wallace eyed the spindly little chair and Benjamin was sure he was questioning its ability to hold his weight. Ben knew it wasn’t kind to wish ill on others, but he fervently hoped it did not. Regardless of his apprehensions, Wallace made his way to the chair and sat as gingerly as a man of his particular girth could be expected to.
The next ten minutes were perhaps the most excruciating of Benjamin’s life. Uncomfortable glances were tossed back and forth from Lady Grimsby to Wallace, then Wallace to Benjamin, and Benjamin to Lady Grimsby. It was a miracle Phoebe didn’t suspect anything, but she went on as if everything was perfect.
And, indeed, it was, wasn’t it? They’d not had much time to celebrate their engagement, but Ben’s heart was near to bursting with the joy he felt in that moment. As soon as the fat bastard in the spindly chair made his exit, the rest of them would certainly make merry.
However, as the man stood to leave, Benjamin noticed a look pass between him and Lady Grimsby. A look that Ben took to mean “I will be back.”
Not if he had anything to do with it.
“Well, ladies, my lord, I must take my leave of you,” Wallace said. “Congratulations again on your betrothal.”
“I’ll walk you out, Colonel.” Ben pushed off from the mantel and started across the room.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, my lord.”
“It’s all right. I’m on my way out, anyway.”
“You’re leaving?” This question came from a distraught-looking Phoebe. He hated to leave her. He had so wanted to celebrate, but there would be time enough for that soon, he hoped. There was a great deal to do before they left for Kent the next morning.
Dammit, he hadn’t even told them they were leaving.
“I’ll be back later on,” he finally decided. “I have some . . . things to take care of this afternoon.”
He bowed out of the room and followed Wallace down the hall, where Becky waited with their coats, hats and walking sticks. Neither said a word until they were on the street, a safe distance from Blakeny House.
“How much does she owe you?” Ben asked, keeping pace with the colonel and staring straight ahead.
There was a pause, but finally the colonel said, “Two thousand pounds. It was three to start with.”
“I will have the funds transferred immediately . . . with interest.”
The colonel stopped walking and tugged on Benjamin’s arm, forcing him to turn back. “Now, see here, Glastonbury, the lady and I have an agreement—”
“Yes, I know all about your little agreement, Colonel,” Ben said, not bothering to hide the acid in his tone. “And I’m putting a stop to it. They are under my protection now. You will stay away from Blakeny House, and if you so much as breathe a word in Lady Grimsby’s direction, I will see to it that you are returned to the dirt from which you so obviously came.”
“Are you threatening me, my lord?” Wallace asked, putting on an air as if he were affronted.
Hah! As if the man had any right after what he had done.
“You’d better believe I am,” Ben replied, coming within mere inches of the man’s craterous face. “You know, I shouldn’t pay you at all. I think you’ve taken far more than a mere two thousand pounds from Lady Grimsby—”
“I’ve kept them out of debtors’ prison!”
“At what price?” Benjamin’s pulse began to beat violently in his neck. He could feel the blood twitching angrily through his veins. Had this man no morals? No ethics whatsoever? How did he not understand the distress he had caused over the last year, all because of a measly amount of money?
“It was her idea,” Wallace shot back. “She begged for me to make that bargain with her.” The way his eyes shifted away, and the twitchy way he scratched behind his ear, clearly indicated the man did not tell the truth.
Benjamin’s fists balled at his sides with the strongest desire to punch the man. But they were in the middle of Mayfair on a sunny day. There were far too many people about for Benjamin to want to cause a scene.
Instead, he lowered his voice to what he hoped was a dangerous growl, and said, “You will refrain from ever making disparaging remarks about my future mother-in-law again. Is that understood, Colonel?”
The man fidgeted and stuttered, clearly not used to taking orders from others. Especially others who were twenty years his younger. But Ben didn’t feel sorry for him in the least. He just wanted to make sure the man never cam
e within three hundred feet of the Blake women again.
With a scowl, the colonel finally mumbled his acquiescence and then stalked off in the other direction. Ben watched him go, making sure his feet took him in the opposite direction of Blakeny House before finally getting on his way.
***
Benjamin arrived at Blakeny House just before dinner that night. The sun was setting over the city, casting an orange-yellow glow on Berkeley Square.
He had spent half the afternoon tracking down his brothers, who immediately abandoned their pints of ale to go home and begin readying themselves for the journey to Kent. He spent the other half of the afternoon on errands of varying sorts. He called on his sister to inform her of Father’s health, then on to his solicitor to see to the transfer of funds to Colonel Wallace, as well as the procurement of a special license. He would have to marry Phoebe soon; they didn’t have time to wait for the banns to be read. And finally, he made it to his own lodgings to instruct his valet to pack his trunks. At last, when all that was done, and he had procured a bottle of fine champagne, he returned to Blakeny House.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too put out to learn they would be leaving in the morning, or that he and Phoebe would marry at the small chapel on the property of Ravenscroft Castle. They didn’t have many belongings, so it shouldn’t take long to gather them. And neither lady had been out in society for a year, so he doubted Phoebe was expecting a large wedding. Really, there was nothing for him to worry about.
Becky answered the door with a smile and a curtsey as always. Phoebe was close on her heels, beaming ear to ear at him. Lord, she was beautiful, and so very innocent. Ben shuddered to think of Colonel Wallace and all that had gone on in this house. It was important to him—imperative, really—that she maintain her naiveté, for who knew what such knowledge would do to her?
However, this was not the time to dwell on such disturbing facts. They had become engaged that afternoon; it was time for celebration.
“I’ve brought some champagne,” he said, holding up the bottle.
“Champagne! Oh, Benjamin, I’m so glad you came back. We were just sitting down to dinner. Would you care to join us?”
He needed to be getting back soon, but it couldn’t hurt to sit down for a few minutes. “I would love to.”
“I hope you won’t mind. Becky being the only servant and all, she usually takes her meals with us.”
Becky, red in the face, leaped to say, “No, no, it’s all right, miss, I can eat alone tonight—”
Benjamin laughed. “Of course you’ll eat with us, Becky. Now, what are we having?”
It turned out they were dining on roasted chicken, hearty potatoes and glazed carrots. A simple meal, but delicious, and he was sure it was one of the more nutritious suppers they had enjoyed in a very long time.
When they finished with dinner, Benjamin popped the cork on the champagne, and finally found an opportunity to inform them of tomorrow’s trip.
“I realize it’s rather short notice,” he began, “and perhaps all this is happening more quickly than I might have planned, but we are unfortunately under a great time constraint.”
No one responded; all three of them just stared back at him, blinking, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat.
“Right, well, the thing is that my father has so little time, and I must go to him, you understand—”
“Oh, well, of course you must!” Phoebe put in.
He nodded. “Yes, thank you for your understanding, but as it stands, I would like to request that you—and your mother and maid, should they choose—accompany me. To Kent.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened, but she didn’t actually balk at the suggestion. Not until he gave her the next piece of information.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” This came from all three women in unison.
“Please,” he continued, holding up his hand against the wrath of the women. “I know I should have said something this morning, but . . . ” He tossed a glance at Lady Grimsby, who appeared to understand the silent communication. He’d left sooner than planned that morning to deal with the colonel, and it was something that had to be done, along with the tens of other things he’d had to attend to.
“When will you be married?” asked Lady Grimsby, her demeanor much calmer than her daughter’s.
He looked at Phoebe and smiled, hoping she would be as excited about their hasty wedding as he was. “The day after tomorrow . . . if that suits my bride. I should have the special license before we leave in the morning.”
There was a long moment of silence, during which Benjamin’s palms began to sweat profusely. But finally Phoebe’s panicked expression turned into a bright smile. Ben blew out the breath he’d been holding and reached for her hand. He kissed her knuckles and then stood go.
“I will send a carriage for you in the late morning. I will be off first thing, but I suppose you can take a bit more time getting there than I can.”
Phoebe saw him to the door, and he planted a swift peck to her lips. He wanted more, but he knew if he deepened the kiss, he might not be able to stop. Besides, they would have plenty of time once they were married to share more than just a deep kiss.
“Good night, my love,” he said to her as he stepped onto the stoop, and then, remembering the ring, turned back to her. “I almost forgot about this. I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to put it on your finger this morning.” He pulled the ring from his pocket and delighted at the awestruck gasp from his betrothed.
“It’s . . . perfect,” she breathed as her eyes sparkled with tears of happiness.
Benjamin smiled at her and kissed her knuckles before turning to go. He had just gained the sidewalk when he heard a loud and elated squeal come from inside Blakeny House. If he were a woman and not a man of six-and-twenty, he might have squealed as well.
Chapter 11
The next morning was just about as painful a morning as Phoebe had ever experienced in her life. After Benjamin left the night before, they had all sprung into action. There was so much to do beyond simply packing their trunks. Phoebe hadn’t worn her traveling dresses or her riding habit in more than a year, and both hung on her like potato sacks.
However, that was nothing compared to her mother’s clothes. She had barely eaten in the last twelve months, so while Phoebe had lost near a stone, her mother had lost no less than two. Every dress, every gown, everything, needed to be altered before she could go out in public.
And so, after measuring her mother and sending her off to bed, Phoebe and Becky stayed up nearly till dawn altering their clothing. There were still many that needed work—there were only so many hours in a day, after all—but they had enough to get them through the first few days at Ravenscroft Castle at least. Phoebe hoped there would be time enough to alter the rest once they were there.
It wasn’t until just past five in the morning that she and Becky decided to put down their needle and thread and get some sleep. They would have to be up early to pack the trunks and prepare for the journey, but a few hours of slumber might see them through what was sure to be a long day.
It was eight o’clock by the time her mother hobbled into her room, but Phoebe was already awake. She still lay in bed, exhausted, but rather alert and excited in anticipation of the day. It wasn’t until she’d lain down in the wee hours of the morning that she’d allowed herself to think on her life, how it had changed so drastically in only a week, and how it would continue to change in the coming days and months.
To see her mother now, up and about, actually waking her up for the day, made Phoebe’s heart soar. If someone had even suggested the notion the day before, she would have laughed in their face. And if it weren’t for the massive emerald weighing her ring finger down now, she might still believe she was in a dream.
“Becky’s made breakfast already. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” she replied, thinking of yesterday’s breakfast and excited for more today. They’d
had eggs and bacon, toast with gobs of butter, and tea with sugar. Actual sugar! It had been ages since they’d had sugar in the house.
After an informal and delectable breakfast, identical to yesterday’s, they set to packing and dressing for the journey. Just before ten o’clock, a large, finely sprung carriage pulled up in front of Blakeny House. It was shiny black and bore a large crest with two golden griffins that flanked a shield of royal blue. Below the shield was their motto, Vincit veritas, though Phoebe’s Latin was subpar, so she wasn’t certain of the meaning. This was the Eastleigh crest. And very soon it would be her crest.
Excitement, raw and thrilling, bubbled inside her, like the fine champagne they’d drunk last night, as the driver and footmen carried the trunks to the carriage. Phoebe helped her mother out the door and down the sidewalk. She squinted and hid her eyes from the bright sun. It must be painful for someone who hadn’t been out of doors for a year to go outside for the first time. However, once they were settled against the squabs, Phoebe saw that her mother bore a wide smile. Yes, it was difficult not to smile under the circumstances.
The journey took a half a day and was rather uneventful. Her mother and Becky slept as they passed through miniscule parishes that did not fail to hold Phoebe’s interest. She was tired, but she didn’t want to miss a minute of the vista. It had been some time since she had been to the country; she’d forgotten how peaceful and beautiful it was. She couldn’t wait to open the door to the scents of flowers and greenery; it would be a welcome change from the unsavory smells of the city.
The Wetherbys’ family seat, Ravenscroft Castle, was apparently near the small town of Sevenoaks in Kent, and according to Benjamin, it was not a castle at all, but more of a midsize manor home.
His assessment proved to be a vast understatement. As the carriage approached the main drive to the “midsize manor home,” Phoebe’s stomach lurched. Great stone pillars rose above the oak trees that lined the drive, but nothing could have prepared her for the breathtaking view once the trees gave way. An immaculately manicured lawn stretched out for at least two acres, and stopped abruptly at the edge of a circular drive.
Gentleman Never Tells (Regency Historical Romance) Page 8
