The house itself was built of reddish bricks that seemed to change color in the bright afternoon sun, and the structure spread out on either side of the towers so far that if you were standing at one end, you might not be able to see the other. Impressive stained-glass windows decorated the twin towers, lending a touch of whimsy to the ancient structure. Between the massive columns stood a grand archway, which led to a stone courtyard.
They pulled into the courtyard where they were greeted by a multitude of servants. Footmen helped them from the carriage, lackeys unloaded and carted off the trunks, and a portly older woman—presumably the housekeeper—bustled up to them with a cheery smile.
She introduced herself as Mrs. Simms, then led them into the house. Phoebe nearly swooned at the grandeur and sheer size of the place. It was old, but everything shone as if it had been dusted mere moments before. They walked through long corridors, up ornate staircases, past so many rooms that Phoebe lost count after a while. Despite her exhaustion, she resisted the urge to blink lest she miss something . . . or wake up. Goodness, she hoped she never woke from this dream.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking, they reached the guest chambers. It occurred to Phoebe as Mrs. Simms led them down the hallway that she would spend only one night in this particular part of the house. At least that’s what she assumed since she and Benjamin would be married tomorrow.
Oh, good heavens! They would spend the night together tomorrow night!
Phoebe’s heart raced and her head felt light, so it was quite a blessing when the housekeeper opened one of the doors and said, “Miss Blake, you’ll be in this one.”
She nodded to the housekeeper and told her mother she was going to lie down, then dragged Becky into the room with her. She barely registered the décor in the chamber. It was creamy and bright—and massive—though the roaring fire at the far side of the room made it feel warm and inviting. But she couldn’t stop to enjoy it; she needed first to sit and catch her breath.
The thought of her wedding night hadn’t really occurred to her until now, which was quite astonishing. How could she have forgotten about the wedding night? They’d kissed plenty of times; he had even held her and caressed her hair. Shouldn’t the topic of the wedding night have entered her mind during those intimate moments?
But then, how could it have? It wasn’t as if she knew what to expect in any capacity. She hadn’t come close to even a single kiss during her first season, so apparently her mother hadn’t seen the need to cover the topic with her.
She had thrown herself into this season, and now into a marriage, with no one to guide her in the intimacies of the marital bed.
“Can I help you out of your things?” Becky stood over her, waiting to help her undress. “You ought to take a rest before you meet the family tonight. I’ll lay out the peach gown we worked on this morning.”
Phoebe nodded, shrugged out of her traveling coat, and stood to allow Becky access to the buttons down the back of her dress.
Yes, a little rest would be helpful. Perhaps she was just blowing things out of proportion because she was so very tired. Though it wasn’t tremendously far from London to Ravenscroft Castle, it had taken them several hours just to get out of the city. All in all, she had been in the carriage much longer than she’d slept the night before.
Phoebe absently went about undressing and then finally climbed into the massive four-poster bed. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep—it could have been seconds or hours, really—when she felt a warm and tender hand stroking at her temples, in her hair, across her cheek. She nuzzled the hand, reveling in the caresses, content to fall back to sleep, when she heard her name.
“Phoebe,” the voice whispered. “Phoebe, my love, are you awake?”
Her eyes snapped open to see Benjamin looming over her at the edge of the bed. She immediately grabbed for the counterpane and brought it to her neck, since all she wore was her thin and tattered chemise.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Becky?” she asked, noting, despite her embarrassment, how very handsome he looked today.
His hair wasn’t as mussed as the day before, but neither was it slicked into his usual style. It simply waved against his scalp naturally. He looked a bit tired, but his eyes glinted with happiness. Hopefully, happiness to see her.
He laughed at her modesty and then leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Becky is taking a walk through the gardens with your mother. I’m just saying hello.” He smiled at her, and it sent a jolt of awareness to her middle.
“Could you not have waited until I came downstairs for that? Until I was dressed properly?”
“I know it’s improper of me, but no, I couldn’t wait. And besides, my entire family is here. I thought perhaps I should prepare you before you were thrown into the lion’s den.”
Phoebe couldn’t argue with that. If the rest of them were as gregarious as the duchess . . . oh, Lord, it was best not to think of it like that. How overwhelming it would be to have more than one Kat in a room at the same time!
She smiled then and scooted up to a sitting position, taking care to keep the counterpane in place. Benjamin sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, and took her hand in his. A little thrill shot through Phoebe at the tenderness in his touch, and butterflies began to beat about in her stomach. Goodness, if she got this way over his holding her hand, what would their wedding night be like?
No, she would not think about that now. Already, she felt the color creeping to her cheeks, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice.
Of course, he did. “Why are you blushing?” he asked, looking every bit the rogue. As if he knew what she was thinking . . . and liked it.
“I’m not,” she countered, eager to change the topic. “I’m just . . . warm. Now, what do I need to know about your family?”
“Well, you should first and foremost be warned about the twins. Michael and Andrew have recently reached the tender age of two-and-twenty. They’ve also just finished their last term at Oxford, both having focused on the classics, which will be completely useless to them in the real world, which leads me to believe I will be supporting them for the rest of their debauched lives.”
Phoebe giggled at Benjamin’s vivid depiction of the twins. She noticed that although he didn’t speak overly kindly of the pair, there was a glint of amusement, and certainly love, in his eyes when he spoke of them.
“We are absolutely nothing alike, the twins and I. It’s quite a miracle we were raised in the same household, with the same parents, and given the same education, for where I consider myself to be responsible and studious, they are debauched and reckless. However, I’ve no doubt you will find them to be just as entertaining as the rest of us.
“My mother, on the other hand, is . . . delightful.” He spoke about his mother with a light in his eye Phoebe had yet to see. “She has been the rock of this family. The pillar upon which we all lean. I’ve no doubt the two of you will get along splendidly.
“And you’ve already met Kat and the duke, so that about covers it,” he finished.
“Well, what about your father?” Phoebe wondered. “When will I meet him?”
Ben took a moment before answering. “Unfortunately, my father is unrecognizable compared to the man he once was. He used to be strong and virile; he taught me everything I know.” His expression grew pained, and Phoebe knew it must be difficult for him. While she had not been exceedingly close to her own father, losing him had been one of the hardest things she’d ever faced. “His moments of consciousness are few and far between, and very short, but perhaps later this evening we can pay a visit?”
Phoebe nodded. “I would like that. Now, get out or I’ll never be ready in time for dinner.”
The smile she loved so much returned to his face as he leaned in to plant a tender kiss to her lips.
“I . . . am very glad you’re here,” he said, coming to his feet.
“I am, too,” Phoebe said, and meant it, with all her heart.
&n
bsp; ***
“It’s hard to believe you’re going to leg-shackle yourself so soon, Ben. You’ve only been back a week.”
Benjamin laughed at his brother Andrew, who lounged complacently across a settee in the drawing room. A week ago, Ben might have said the same thing if it were a friend who was getting married, but not now. It was amazing how smitten he had become in such a short amount of time—quite unbelievable really. And even more unbelievable that he’d almost told her he loved her just a little while ago in her chamber.
He did, of course, love her. But he had never said that to anyone before, except his family, which obviously did not count in this situation. So he’d stopped himself and told her another truth that was just as sincere: that he was happy she was here.
“Yes, really, Ben! Next thing we know, you’ll be saying it was love at first sight, for Christ’s sake!” This came from Michael, the other depraved twin.
“Perhaps not love, but certainly like,” he finally admitted, laughing again at their sickened expressions.
“She must look like bloody Aphrodite, then,” said Andrew, “for I won’t believe that my brother has turned into a lovey-dovey sap all of a sudden.”
“Well, you better believe it, gentlemen, because I am enamored of Miss Blake.”
“As you should be,” came an older, feminine voice from the doorway. “She is to be your wife, after all.”
All three of them rose to greet their mother, who sauntered into the room with a grace and agility befitting a woman of her elevated station in life. Though her dark hair had begun to gray, and fine wrinkles outlined her black eyes and red lips, she was still as beautiful as Benjamin remembered her from his childhood.
“Your father has always been fond of me,” she continued as she took a seat near them. “And I always felt sorry for the women whose husbands did not care for their wives. I won’t have a son of mine marrying a woman he does not love.”
“Love!” Both Michael and Andrew stared back at their mother in horror.
Benjamin remained silent. He wasn’t going to admit his feelings about Phoebe to his family before he’d admitted them to her. To avoid further discussion, and possible inquiries on the matter, he changed the subject.
“How is Father today?” he asked. He’d seen the marquess upon his arrival that morning, but he’d been sleeping at the time.
His mother turned a sad smile on him, and Benjamin wished he had not brought up the worrisome topic.
“Not very well, darling. He’s sleeping now, but I told him you brought Miss Blake home with you, and he said to wake him whenever you’re ready.”
Ben nodded but didn’t have time to respond. Voices in the hall heralded the arrival of his sister and the duke, who were followed by Lady Grimsby, Phoebe and Becky. The maid was turned out in a simple day dress, apparently assuming the role of companion to Lady Grimsby for the week since she did not have to cook or clean.
Lady Grimsby’s health seemed to be improving by the minute, and he was suddenly thankful he had come upon her and Colonel Wallace the other day. Without that bastard harassing her, she might begin to heal after a most horrific year.
His gaze fell on Phoebe next, having saved the best for last. She held onto her mother’s arm, seeming a bit nervous, and he couldn’t blame her. The poor thing was about to have dinner with his family, and while they were an exceedingly friendly bunch, they could be exceedingly overwhelming.
She looked at him with those wide brown eyes he’d come to adore so much. Her gaze pleaded with him to come to her, to take her by the arm and guide her through the evening ahead, which he was thrilled to do.
He hurried to her side, taking her arm and leading her across the room to introduce her to his mother and brothers. Becky took Phoebe’s place on Lady Grimsby’s arm, and they followed as well.
“Mother,” he said when they’d stopped at her chair. “May I present my bride-to-be, Miss Phoebe Blake. Miss Blake, my mother, the Marchioness of Eastleigh.”
She curtseyed appropriately, and his mother smiled at him while Phoebe’s head was still angled to the floor. He wasn’t surprised to see she approved of his choice.
The introductions continued with Lady Grimsby and Becky, whom he introduced as her companion, and then they started all over again with the twins.
Benjamin tried not to groan as they attempted to win over his betrothed.
“It seems you’ve snatched up the prettiest girl in all of London, Ben. What are the rest of us to do now?”
Phoebe giggled, clearly delighted, but not at all fooled by the rogues. “I’m certain you will find no shortage of acceptable girls in London, Lord Michael.”
“Unfortunately, we can hardly throw a stick without hitting one of our cousins, but heaven knows we try.”
“All right, you two, that’s enough,” his mother cut in. “Let Miss Blake maintain her innocence for a few more hours before you start recounting your exploits.”
Phoebe blushed at the mention of her innocence, and Benjamin smiled. She wouldn’t be so innocent after tomorrow. The thought made him instantly aroused, and alternately grateful for the dark color of his pants that would hide that fact from the rest of the party.
It didn’t help that she stood next to him, several inches shorter, giving a clear view to her décolletage. Her skin was the color of fresh cream. God, how he longed to taste it, to touch it, to feel it beneath his hands.
However, this was neither the time nor the place, and after tomorrow, he would be able to abate his lust for her whenever he needed. Lord, he hoped they were getting married first thing in the morning.
“What time will we see the minister tomorrow?” he asked aloud before he had a chance to stop himself.
His mother raised an eyebrow at him. Damn, but she could read him too well. Or perhaps he’d just been that obvious.
The stodgy Ravenscroft butler stepped into the room and rang a tiny bell just then, to announce that dinner was ready. They filed out two-by-two and walked in a caravan to the dining room down the hall. His mother walked directly in front of them on Andrew’s arm, and just before they gained the doorway to the dining room, she turned to them with a smile.
“Ten o’clock,” was all she said at first. But then turned again to add, “And don’t be late.”
Chapter 12
After what could only be described as the most bizarre family dinner Phoebe had ever been party to, she made her way with Benjamin and Lady Eastleigh to the master suites on the second floor. Phoebe would have been lying to herself to say she wasn’t nervous about meeting the marquess. Not only was she meeting her future father-in-law, which she assumed would be unsettling in its own right, but she was meeting him on his death bed. It was imperative she make a good impression, lest it be the only one she got to make.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” Benjamin asked as they cut through a massive portrait gallery.
“It was . . . lively,” Phoebe said with a smile.
“Yes, my children see to that, Miss Blake. Though I don’t know if lively is exactly the right word. They’re all rather excitable when it comes to just about any topic of no real import whatsoever.”
“Now, now, Mother, I don’t think it’s fair to say that the controversy of roundarm bowling is of no import. Katherine is mad to say it should be allowed in the cricket clubs. And she’s out of her mind if she thinks I will allow it in our own matches.”
Phoebe giggled as Benjamin turned to give her a wink. Perhaps entertaining was the best way to describe the dinner conversation.
They grew silent as they neared the massive oak doors to the master chambers, and Phoebe’s heart raced with apprehension. Lady Eastleigh went ahead of them and closed the door behind her while she made sure the marquess was in a state to receive them. A moment later, she cracked the door open and bid them enter.
The chamber was dimly lit by only a couple of candles and a fire in the hearth. It smelled of sickness, and a pall of sadness hung in the air. Phoebe’s eyes
landed on the slight form in the bed. Hair that she was sure was once as dark as Benjamin’s was now streaked with silver and framed a gaunt and wrinkled face. Thick blankets covered the rest of him, but it was obvious he was thin and frail.
Phoebe trembled for many reasons: she was nervous, yes; even worse, however, she was reminded of her own father’s death. It saddened her and yet somehow made her grateful she had not been there in his last days. Benjamin put his hand over hers in a gesture of comfort. It helped, but not completely. She still had to pass the test.
Sure, Benjamin had made his decision, but she knew approval from his father was of great import.
They walked to the edge of the bed. Lady Eastleigh sat on the other side and applied a cold compress to her husband’s forehead.
“Darling,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Benjamin is here with Miss Blake.”
He blinked a few times until Phoebe could see just a sliver of his black eyes. “Ah, Miss Blake,” he said. “You will have to forgive me that I cannot greet you properly, but I’m afraid my legs do not work as they used to.”
Phoebe smiled, feeling a little more at ease already. Clearly, he shared the same wit his wife and children did, and he had not lost it despite his debilitating disease. “I shall endeavor to find it in my heart to forgive you, my lord,” she replied, hoping her sarcasm would not be lost on him.
It wasn’t. A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, and he turned his attention to Benjamin. “At least we know she will be able to hold her own with the lot of you,” he said weakly.
Benjamin laughed as the marquess refocused his attention on Phoebe. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Blake. While you seem to be quite charming, I am sure there are many more reasons that caused my son to fall in love with you so quickly.”
Gentleman Never Tells (Regency Historical Romance) Page 9
