A Lady's Honor

by A. S. Fenichel

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. His warmth spread through her along with the warm, masculine scent that muddled her mind. “I am a woman past her time to marry well, with little to recommend her. I know my worth, Markus, but I am realistic and know my limitations. Joining the Everton Domestic Society at least gives me some power over my own life.”

  His grip tightened and he drew her forward until his body pressed hers. “You are a smart and beautiful woman, tenacious and witty. Anyone who does not see that is a fool.”

  Unable to move, she stared up at his lips. He spoke words no one had ever said to her, yet from him she almost believed them. Dear God, he was going to kiss her and she was paralyzed to stop him. Didn’t want to stop him. His breath mingled with hers. “Markus, this is wrong.”

  He froze and his eyes regained their focus. Releasing her, he took a step back. “I am sorry.”

  Heart lodged in her throat, Phoebe ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She didn’t stop running until she was behind the closed and locked door of her bedroom. She knew Markus wouldn’t follow, but she locked it just the same. Perhaps more to keep herself in than him out. “Oh, Emma, I am the worst friend in the world. What is wrong with me?”

  Chapter 6

  No. 20

  An Everton lady will not think of the client romantically.

  —The Everton Companion

  Rules of Conduct

  Markus had managed only a few moments’ sleep all night. Awash with guilt over nearly kissing Phoebe in the kitchen, he found no peace. After hours of tossing and turning, he wrote several letters and made a plan to get away from Rosefield, before the situation drove him back into the bottle. Since Emma’s death he’d believed a clear mind would be his undoing, but he found the opposite to be true. Dealing with his loss was easier without the brandy. If he’d been inebriated in the kitchens, he might have done something he would truly regret, and worse, Phoebe would regret it even more. If he’d been drunk, he might have ruined a good woman who was trying to help him. He prayed he was not that far gone, but couldn’t be sure. Self-loathing engulfed him and his fingers shook while he fumbled through tying his cravat.

  He pulled on his long coat and handed his letters over to Watson. “I am riding out to the Harper farm then intend to visit Marlton. Tell our guests I will return in a few days.”

  “What shall I tell Miss Elizabeth?” Watson tucked the envelopes into his pocket.

  Fear screamed inside his head, “Run!” but his conscience cried out another message. “I will go up and tell her myself.”

  “Very well, my lord.”

  Taking the steps two at a time he rushed into the nursery. His heart stopped. Every surface screamed Emma. Pink damask walls and creamy lace all done in the last month she was with child. Hours of decorating managed for the joyous event of their daughter’s birth. Emma was so certain it would be a girl, she sewed a dozen pinafores in pink, yellow, and every other pastel color. Grabbing a dresser to keep his feet, he forced breath back into his lungs and stared at all the beauty his sweet Emma had created for their daughter.

  Wide-eyed Elizabeth stood in her crib, watching him.

  Markus swallowed and dashed the tears from his eyes. “Good morning, Elizabeth. I had forgotten how pretty your momma made this room for you.”

  She cocked her head then raised her arms for him to lift her.

  Cradling her, he sat in the large rocking chair. “She loved you very much, you know. I am so sorry you never got to meet her and see how wonderful she was.”

  The room didn’t make him sad the way he’d predicted. Avoiding the room hadn’t made him happy, either. Seeing all the things Emma had done made him miss her but it also reminded him of the wonderful last month of her life.

  Elizabeth popped her thumb into her mouth and sank against his chest.

  “I have to go away for a few days.”

  She stopped sucking and gawked up at him.

  “Only for a few days, Elizabeth. I promise I will not stay away long. When I return, you and I shall go on a picnic. Your momma loved to picnic even when it was too cold.”

  There was nothing as perfect as Elizabeth’s sweet face. Intelligence sharp in her eyes as she watched him. She touched his cheek and wiped away an escaped tear.

  “I will be back soon. I only wanted to tell you goodbye before I left.” Lifting her, he put her back in her crib. “You and I are going to survive, little one. I do not know how, but we will manage it.”

  He watched her until she curled into a ball and closed her eyes. As long as Elizabeth loved him, with really no reason to, there was hope for the future. With luck, she would sleep until Mrs. Donnelly or Phoebe came for her. He had not kept a promise in two years; he prayed he could keep the ones he made now.

  * * * *

  Riding like the devil was on his heels cleared the fog from his sleep-deprived mind. He slowed as he approached the Harper farm. Growing potatoes and other vegetables, the fields were already harvested. The rich, dark soil beckoned Markus down from his horse. Even after a long growing season, the earth was good. Taking a handful, he breathed in the musky, fresh scent he’d loved since childhood.

  “I wasn’t expecting you, my lord. Didn’t even know noblemen woke this early.” George Harper towered over Markus by at least five inches. He was a giant of a man with enormous shoulders and scruffy blond curls.

  “Some do when we are curious as to how one farm outgrows the rest.” Markus dropped the dirt and clapped the remainder from his hands before offering one to Harper for shaking.

  Harper’s hand swallowed Markus’s when he shook it. “You want all my secrets?”

  “If you are willing to share a few, I would be grateful.”

  A wide smile spread across his face. “My wife is just making breakfast. Why don’t you join us and we’ll chat about why my potatoes are the best in the county? On the way, I’ll take you to see my broad beans. They’ll be ready for harvest next week.”

  The beans were the biggest Markus had ever seen. Not even in Italy, where they called them fava beans, had they grown as plump and long.

  George Harper and his wife, Pearl, lived in a neat cottage, which Markus provided. It was clean and well maintained. A small fire burned in the hearth and bread baked in the oven cut into the brick above and tea steeped on the table. Pearl served coddled eggs and toast with a bean mash more flavorful than any gruel.

  “I wonder if you would share this recipe with my new cook, Mrs. Harper?”

  Blond hair falling lose from her cap, Pearl blushed. She was of average height, and beside her husband looked a tiny frail thing. “I’m pleased you like it. I will give the recipe to Becca when I see her at church on Sunday.”

  “I did not realize the promotion was common knowledge already.” Markus finished his food and put down his fork. Gossip was like a disease, and he hated to think about how much of his life was fodder for the mill.

  Pouring more tea, Pearl said, “Becca’s mother is our neighbor. She was so proud of her daughter she came by to boast a bit. Becca is a good girl. We’re all happy for her promotion.”

  Markus relaxed. “She is a wonderful cook and baker. I am happy for her as well.”

  Smiling, George drank his tea down in one gulp. “Come with me, my lord. We can look over some repairs that need doing while I tell you all about manure.”

  Two hours later, Markus rode toward Marlton with a short list of things the Harpers needed fixed and a head full of farming techniques that produced the best vegetables in the county.

  There were precious few pretty days left before the English countryside would fall to winter snow, rain, and cold. It was just after noon when Markus rode up to the looming facade where his close friend Daniel Fallon lived. The family sat in the grass not far to the left of the yard.

  Daniel stood as Markus approached. “This is a surprise
.”

  Dismounting, Markus said, “A welcome one, I hope.”

  “You are always welcome at our home, Markus.” Sophia brushed her long black hair off her shoulder and smiled up at him from the blanket where three-year-old Charles ate with enthusiasm. “You look well.”

  “You mean I look sober and you are too polite to say so.”

  Sophia laughed. “I’m American, Markus, I always say what I think.”

  Markus bowed. “One of the many reasons we all adore you, Sophia. Young Charles has grown a foot since last I saw him.”

  “You have not been here in a long time.” Daniel shook his hand then slapped him on the back.

  “I hope I have not done anything in the past few years to harm our friendship.” The worst part of being sober was not remembering what he had ruined while soused.

  “Not possible. We have been friends too long. If you came all this way to make some kind of apology, you could have saved yourself the ride. Thomas, Michael and I will always be at your service, Markus.”

  It was a relief to know his oldest and dearest friends were still behind him. He had not seen much of them, but he did remember an embarrassing visit to Thomas Wheel’s London home where he drank the man’s brandy and had to be put to bed. Since then Thomas had married Markus’s sister, Dory. He had many reparations to make.

  The reason he had come gnawed at him. “I could use a talk if you have the time, Dan?”

  Daniel gazed at his wife.

  Sophia waved a hand. “You two go inside and chat. Charlie and I have some running and playing to do after he’s laid waste to that chicken leg.”

  Still focused on his meal, Charles gave a laugh and smeared some bits of food across his cheek.

  Laughing, Daniel put his arm on Markus’s shoulder. “Come in the house. Would you like some tea?”

  “I would love a brandy, but the tea will do.” Markus flopped onto the couch near the window in Daniel’s study.

  Once he’d rang for tea, Daniel sat adjacent to him. “You have given up drink?”

  “My mother has employed the Everton Domestic Society on my behalf. Miss Hallsmith has taken over my home and demands I not drink. To be honest, I needed to stop. Being drunk all the time is tiring and has put my holdings at risk. Also, as Miss Hallsmith pointed out, it’s very much like my father.” He cringed at the admission.

  “Is that Miles’s sister, Phoebe? I have not seen her since she was in braids.”

  The tea arrived and the housekeeper poured for them.

  “She is no longer in braids.” His heart expanded with memories of her red hair and the smattering of freckles on her cheeks, but his head pounded with too many worries over right and wrong.

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, she has grown up well then? She went away if I recall. Scotland, was it?”

  “Her grandmother suffered an apoplexy and Phoebe went to take care of her. From what I understand, she nursed her grandmother back to health and stayed five years caring for her until her death.”

  “Wasted her entire courting years.” Daniel sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

  The tea was strong and eased the tension building inside Markus. “She is still young enough to marry.”

  “I assumed you came here to discuss Emma, but it seems you came for other reasons. Do you have feelings for Miss Hallsmith?” Daniel put his tea on the table and pushed it away. A pointed stare accompanied the question.

  It wasn’t possible to have feelings for Phoebe. He barely knew her. Whatever happened in the kitchen was due to the intimacy of the moment and his loneliness. There was no other explanation.

  “No. Maybe. I do not know. My secretary is smitten with her. Part of me finds her curious and smart. She is as efficient as any man and more determined than most. I have never met a woman like her. The rest of me is appalled by the idea that I might like her. I came here today because I could not stand to be there and I knew I could keep my promise to not drink at Marlton. Also, I would never discuss this particular subject with anyone else and I knew you would listen.” He sounded like an idiot. Grown men didn’t behave like schoolboys because a bit of skirt appealed to them.

  “How is Elizabeth?”

  The light hiding in Markus’s heart returned to full brightness. “She is an angel. After all I have put her through, she loves me. I do not know how or why, but I am grateful for it. I was a fool to stay away from her for so long, and she has suffered. So much so that she has not uttered her first word.”

  “Sophia and I visited a few months ago. You were not at home. We had thoughts of bringing Elizabeth here until you were feeling better, but the staff was adamant that they had been charged with her care and would not relent. Elizabeth went into a rage, so we did not push the issue further. Sophia wrote to your sister about the matter.”

  Crushing guilt battered him from the inside out. “Since Phoebe’s arrival, the tantrums have stopped. We will be patient with her finding words for a while longer. I will take her to London for medical care if necessary.”

  “What does Miss Hallsmith think of that?” Daniel asked.

  “I have not discussed the matter with her.” Though he knew she would not be keen on the idea of subjecting Elizabeth to scads of doctors and tests. Phoebe was certain that when Elizabeth had something to say, she would do so.

  “Exactly what is Miss Hallsmith doing at Rosefield?”

  The nights in the kitchen when they talked and got to know each other flew through his mind. “She is hiring staff, seeing to the household needs, and caring for Elizabeth.”

  “A lady, doing all of that? How strange. And is it just the two of you in the house?”

  “Of course not! Everton provides a chaperon. Lady Honoria Chervil is also in residence. I would not have let her come without a chaperon. Hell, I did not want her to come at all.”

  “But she did come and she has taken control of your home and now you are here to discuss her. How long has she been with you?” Daniel sipped his tea and sat back, watching.

  “Three days, or maybe it’s four.” It was impossible that it was only a few days. She had turned his miserable life upside down in such a short time. “I should toss her from the house.”

  Choking on a sip of tea, Daniel sputtered. “You should hold on to her as tightly as you can.”

  “What? She is disruptive and bossy.” He would go home today and send Phoebe and Honoria back where they belong.

  Daniel drank the last of his tea and returned the cup and saucer to the tray. “You and I have been friends a long time, Markus. We were in short pants when we met and I could not break you out of your depression or stop you from drinking yourself ill. Thomas and Michael also tried to help you get back on your feet. Your mother and sister came to your home and you threw them out. The women in your family are not easily battled, and yet you forced both out. In four days, Phoebe Hallsmith has returned order to your home, made you see your daughter as an angel, and convinced you to stop drinking. In my opinion, you had better hold on to that girl with both hands. She has done in less than a week what the people who love you could not accomplish in two years.”

  Heart pounding and hands wet with perspiration, Markus hated to admit any of what Daniel said was true. “But, Dan, she is too close. I do not think her being in my house is a good idea.”

  “You mean because you are attracted to her?” Daniel shrugged. “I do not think Emma would want you to be alone forever. She loved you and would want you to be happy. If Miss Hallsmith makes you happy, I see no reason to avoid her.”

  The idea of dishonoring Phoebe shook him and he forced his fists to relax. “I do not need or want a mistress.”

  Shoulders stiff, Daniel stood and walked to his desk. He moved a glass paperweight but then returned it to its original position. “Sometimes I see no resemblance in you to the man I grew up with. Miss Hallsmith
is a lady, not the kind of woman who one makes a mistress.”

  “I will never marry again. Emma was my wife—is my wife. That will never change.”

  Daniel ran his fingers through his blond hair, loosing part of it from its queue. “Then let her hire your staff, find a nanny for your daughter, and go back to London where she will help the next family in need. Or perhaps she will benefit from a match with your secretary.”

  “Yes.” It was as if someone were gripping his heart and squeezing the life out of it.

  “I would be very happy to see you find someone to love again, Markus. With Miss Hallsmith or someone else, it would be good for you to find love again.” Daniel leaned against his desk.

  “No one can fill my heart the way Emma did. I have no room for another. Nothing could ever be like my marriage with Emma. She was the other half of me.” The voice tightened and he struggled to draw breath.

  “It would not be the same, that is true. Before I met Sophia, I believed myself in love with Jocelyn. Maybe I was in love with her, but the love, the feelings, the relationship was not the same as what I have with Sophia.”

  “Jocelyn had an affair before you were even married. She was not the right woman for you. You cannot compare the two.” Markus couldn’t keep from scoffing.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Daniel straightened away from the desk. “My point exactly. Regardless of Jocelyn’s feelings, mine were clear. I cared for her enough to want to marry her. I was smitten and wanted to spend every second with her, which led me to finding her with her lover. However, when she was no longer in my life, I was certain I could never love again, never find a woman who made me feel that way. And I was right.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “The feelings I have for Sophia are completely different from those I had for Jocelyn. In my heart, Jocelyn is dead. At least, the woman I thought she was is long buried. My heart was so full with her that when she destroyed our love, I hardened myself against any woman taking her place. It was just as well, because no woman could or should. Sophia did not take Jocelyn’s place. She made her own place in my heart, which has room for more love than I had ever imagined.”