A Lady's Honor

by A. S. Fenichel

  “And what of his estates and holdings?”

  “I will hire a second man of business to handle those and manage it all. I have done so on the periphery for years. I will have to take a stronger role, but those holdings will be mine one day. I cannot thank you enough for managing it all in my absence, Tom. You are a good friend and a fine brother-in-law.”

  “It was nothing. Even if I were not married to your sister, I would have assisted you in your time of need. I know you would do the same for me.” Thomas rose and crossed to the door. “Speaking of Dorothea, I should tell you, she is with child.”

  Joy and terror crashed together. He could lose Dory the way he had lost Emma. Getting up, he stuffed his fears and crossed to Thomas with his hand outstretched. “I am very happy for you both, Tom.”

  “I am certain this news comes as a shock to you. All I ask is that you try to act happy in front of Dory. She so wants you to be happy for her.” Thomas held Markus’s hand a bit longer and made eye contact.

  “My fears will not cloud the fact that this is joyous news.” Even though he meant what he said, when Thomas stepped outside his office, Markus had to sit with his hands over his face for a long while. When he finally got his mind around the idea of Dory having a baby, he went and congratulated her before returning to his room to dress for supper.

  * * * *

  In the blue parlor, Markus had a fine pianoforte, which was rarely used. When dinner concluded, he invited everyone to the parlor for cake. “Dory, will you play? It has been ages since I have heard you.”

  Dory’s smile lit the room. “For you, I will play, Markus. Tom and I just finished writing a piece for four hands. Perhaps he would join me.”

  Nodding, Thomas took her hand and escorted her to the instrument. They sat and she leaned into him for an instant. It was a private moment between husband and wife and perhaps not meant for anyone to notice.

  Thinking of the kiss he and Phoebe had shared, he wondered if he would ever have tiny moments like that again with another. Of course, he and Emma had hundreds of such intimacies. That was what he missed most, the little daily expressions of love.

  Dory and Thomas played together as if they had been doing so all their lives. Where one phrase stopped, the next picked up in a seamless melody deepened with a soulful harmony. When they rested their fingers on the keys as if in one motion and the music stopped, Markus had to remind himself to breathe.

  Shaking off the deep musing, he burst into applause, as did Phoebe and Honoria. Mother lightly patted her gloved hands.

  “That was wonderful. You two play together like nothing I have ever seen.” Markus stood when Dory did.

  Mother turned. “Do you play, Miss Hallsmith?”

  Wide-eyed, Phoebe gaped. “I…I would be embarrassed to play after such an impressive performance. My skills are for a schoolroom, while Mr. and Mrs. Wheel are true musicians. Perhaps if I had played first, my lady.”

  To her credit, Mother didn’t push the issue. Phoebe had said just the right thing so as not to offend yet also get out of what might have been an embarrassing moment. Few people played as well as his sister. Even Thomas’s skills paled in comparison.

  Dory blushed when Thomas leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Play another, my dear. Perhaps the final original piece you played for the prince.”

  With a nod, she settled onto the bench alone. She put her fingers on the keys, but held her breath before turning and looking Markus in the eye. “I titled this ‘Emma.’ ”

  Not one note had been played, but Markus’s pulse stuttered.

  When her fingers tapped out the sad melody of the first phrase, he could hardly breathe. The music highlighted the laughter and delight that Emma brought to everyone she touched. The sonata ended with pain that Markus thought only he knew. Somehow it helped hearing the piece. His sweet sister knew his suffering and had put it into the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

  At the close, he wrapped Dory in his arms and pushed down his tears. “Thank you. That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. Emma would have loved it.”

  “I was terrified to play it for you. I thought you might be angry.” Dory wiped her tears away.

  With a kiss on her cheek, he stepped back.

  Phoebe ran from the room.

  Markus swallowed down his desire to call after her and turned to Dory. “I think it was a good thing that you waited to play it for me. I might not have been strong enough to hear it before now. I shall always cherish this gift, Dory. You are a wonder.”

  “I am so happy to have been here to hear that.” Honoria ambled over and took Dory’s hand. “You are a stunning musician. I had read in the paper that you played for the prince, but I had no idea you were so gifted. I hope you will play a few more.”

  Dory thanked her and after cake was served, she played several more pieces. She kept the rest of the music light and happy and by the time they said goodnight, Markus’s only worry was about Phoebe and why she had run out of the parlor and never returned.

  Waiting downstairs until the rest of the house was secured in their rooms, Markus finally made his way upstairs. He stopped outside Phoebe’s door. He should continue to his own room, but he couldn’t. She might be ill. He knocked.

  The rustle of cloth filtered through the door before it opened a few inches. Phoebe’s eyes were ringed red, and she sniffed. “Markus, what are you doing?” Her voice was tight.

  “I was worried about you. Are you ill?” Afraid she might slam the door, he put his foot on the threshold.

  “No. I am fine. I was just emotional and did not wish to make a scene.” A tear leaked, and she brushed it away.

  “You are still crying. Because of the music?”

  “No. Yes. The music and other things.” Sighing, she stepped back but did not try to close the door.

  Markus stepped inside. He told himself to leave it and go to his own bed, but his heart ached for Phoebe. He longed to know what other things had been so upsetting she’d been crying for hours. She stood near the open window in only her shift and a white wrap. It was no different from what he’d seen her in dozens of times when they snacked in the kitchen together, yet he yearned to touch her. He stroked the soft skin where her shoulder and neck met. “Tell me.”

  “I have made enough of a fool of myself for one evening, Markus. Please leave me be.” Her shoulders shook.

  Pulling her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. “Do not cry, Phoebe. You can tell me anything. No one even knew you were upset. You might have left for any reason tonight.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I know you better than they do and I was worried. Tell me what upset you about Emma’s sonata?” He kissed the top of her head and his reward was wildflowers on a spring day. Phoebe was sunshine in his arms.

  She let her head fall back against his chest. “At first it was just the sweetness of the music, but then I began to think about how tender the gesture was. How your sister had created something so perfect and emotional for Emma and for you. I couldn’t bear it. No one has ever done anything as wondrous for me. My brother is trying to barter me off with a dowry to the most eligible man. He has no concern for my happiness or whether or not those men are gentlemen who will give me a good life. Ford’s only concern is his own reputation and that I not bruise it. I know I am being childish and selfish, but I was jealous of how much your sister loves you.”

  “Now I feel like an ass. I have been unappreciative of my family’s love. But, Phoebe, that is just Ford. Miles adores you. He respects your decision to go to Everton’s and make a life for yourself.” He could keep her wrapped in his arms forever and wished he had the power to stop time.

  Turning toward him, she pressed against him. “I did not wish to make you feel bad. I’m sure the music was very emotional for you. Emma would have loved that sonata. It wa
s happy and sad and tragic.”

  “Phoebe, I do not want to talk about Emma right now.” Every inch of him longed for her and her body fit his perfectly.

  Wide golden eyes stared up at him. “No. What do you want to talk about?”

  A war raged inside Markus and his good sense lost the battle. “Nothing. I want to make love to you and pretend the rest of the world does not exist.”

  “That would be completely inappropriate, Markus.” She pressed closer to him.

  “Then tell me to leave, Phoebe. Toss me from your room and I will go.” It was a strain to hold back kissing her exposed neck and shoulder.

  “I do not want to send you away. Soon I will be gone, back to my life. You will be here raising Elizabeth.” A whimper escaped. “Is it so terrible to want one night to remember for the rest of my life?”

  “Why must it be only one?” He was fully aroused and didn’t know how much longer he could hold her like this without making love to her.

  “You will be an earl and I will be an Everton lady, and that is just the way it is.” She rose to her toes and kissed his chin. Her breasts pressed against him and ignited passion that would never be quelled. Taking her in his arms, he pressed his lips to hers and devoured her mouth before striding to the bed in two steps.

  Completely trusting, she stared up at him with parted lips and flushed skin.

  Markus stepped back, bolted the door, and tore off his cravat. Forcing himself to slow down and not ravage her like an animal, he reclined next to her and traced a path along the low neck of her shift. “Can I assume you are a virgin, Phoebe?”

  Her breath came in short gasps. “I am.”

  “I have to ask you again. Are you certain this is what you want? I would hate it if you regretted this.” Her scent intoxicated him, and he pulled the bow at her shoulder, exposing one perfect round breast.

  “I will cherish this, Markus. Do not leave me now. That would be the only thing I could ever regret.”

  A low groan escaped him. No man could resist such sweetness or a gift so great and true.

  Chapter 13

  No. 26

  The Society is here to support our ladies. Asking for help is encouraged.

  —The Everton Companion

  Rules of Conduct

  It wasn’t so terrible to want one perfect night for herself. If Phoebe couldn’t have Markus for her own, at least she could carry the memory of his lovemaking with her.

  He undressed her with such care, kissing his way down her shoulder to her chest. When his mouth closed around her nipple, it was a lightning bolt to her sex. The Everton rules flew out the window with all the things she’d been taught a lady should be.

  His velvet jacket brushed against her skin, soft and rough at once. Her flesh was sensitive to the lightest touch so that even the soft cotton shift flowing away made her arch and moan.

  “Phoebe, you are so beautiful.”

  His words filled her with joy and the tenderness in his eyes warmed her heart. “You are overdressed.”

  Standing, he pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. With each layer of clothing, he revealed strength and masculinity. Lean muscles covered his arms and shoulders.

  “Do you do some sport, Markus?”

  Head cocked, he smiled. “I used to work the fields with my tenants but lately I only ride. It seems riding for days without end kept me from getting too soft.”

  When his breeches hit the floor, Phoebe considered changing her mind for half a second.

  He was beautiful and covered in a smattering of fair hair. Stepping out of his clothes brought him closer, and she reached out and touched the flesh covering his ribs. He shook at her touch, and she skimmed her fingers up to the pebbled nipples.

  The firelight danced off his skin and glimmered in his eyes. “I do not think I have ever yearned for anyone the way I do for you. Even knowing I should go, I cannot leave you.”

  “I would be very vexed if you left now.” She’d tried to lighten the mood, but it sounded more whine than joke.

  Lying on the mattress next to her, he ran his fingers along her waist to her hip. “I am not going anywhere.”

  She shivered.

  “Are you afraid, Phoebe?”

  “I would be lying if I said I had no fear at all. I understand this will be painful for me.” A knot formed in her throat and the last word squeaked out.

  Him kissing the shell of her ear set her on fire. “I will do my best to make the one instant of pain worthwhile for you.”

  “An instant? Is that all it is?” Women rarely spoke of what happened between married people. Phoebe was raised on a farm, so she had some idea, and a few girls in Scotland had giggled about their experiences.

  His kisses distracted her from her concerns. Soft, strong lips danced with hers as his tongue swept the inside of her mouth demanding she join as well. He gripped her bottom and pulled her tight to his shaft, yet she didn’t fear him. Markus would never hurt her physically. And her broken heart was inevitable, so she pushed that fear aside.

  Every touch set her trembling with desire and the moment he slid his fingers between her folds everything else fell away and there was only the pleasure and something tightening within her. Wantonly, she pressed against his hand, jerking and relishing his fingers sliding through her wetness.

  Unsure but wanting more, she clung to his back. “Markus.”

  “Yes. Tell me, sweetheart.” He pressed his shaft tight to her hip and slid his fingers inside.

  There were no emotions designed to express the way his lips, hands, and fingers made her feel. It was the perfect moment of adoration, and Phoebe soared above the world. Ecstasy crashed around her, forcing her to buck and she gasped. “Oh, God.”

  Markus wrapped his arms around her, holding her until the waves of pleasure eased. Brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek, he leaned on his elbows and smiled at her. “You are a magnificent woman, Phoebe. You can have anything you want in this world. I hope you will come to know that.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  He pressed his shaft to the juncture of her thighs, sliding between her lips. The intimacy was uncomfortable but good at the same time. He slid himself along her wet crease until she closed her eyes with the pleasure of it.

  “Look at me, Phoebe.”

  The fire still glowed in his dilated eyes. Intensity shone through and she wanted all of him.

  Thrusting forward, he tore her in half.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  “Just stay still for a moment and the pain will go away. I promise.” He never took his gaze away from hers, and it was like he had some mystical hold on her.

  True to his word, the pain that she was sure had killed her disappeared and only desire remained. She pressed her hips up and the pleasure increased.

  “Sweetheart, you are making it very hard for me to remain still and give you time to adjust.” His jaw ticked.

  “Feels good now, Markus.” She ran her hand along his cheek, his day’s growth of beard rubbing the pads of her fingers.

  With a growl more animal than man, he pulled back, leaving only his tip still inside before pressing fully into her. Markus set a rhythm that Phoebe could not resist joining. With every thrust, she lifted her hips to meet him. Each time her most sensitive bud would contact his body and her pleasure would escalate.

  Greater than before, when the rapture came, a cry escaped her mouth.

  Markus pressed his lips to hers and smothered her voice as he groaned.

  Silence hung around them as he wrapped her in his arms and rolled until she lay next to him with her legs entwined with his. He kissed her forehead.

  “That was wonderful, Markus.”

  “You are wonderful.” He hugged her tighter, then eased from the bed. When he returned, he held a wet cl
oth and wiped her inner thighs and womanhood clean. “Can you trust Arwen with the sheets, sweetheart?”

  A red smudge marred the white sheets. “I will take care of it. You should return to your own room before we are discovered.”

  Already her heart was breaking, but she knew it was the right thing. She could hold on to this wonderful memory for the rest of her life, and Markus would find someone suitable to fill Emma’s role.

  He knelt next to the bed and rested his forehead on her arm. “You want me to go and all I want is to hold you through the night.”

  Dear God, why did this have to be so difficult? “What we want does not matter. This is the way things are, and if we are discovered it would be a disaster for both of us.”

  Pain etched in his eyes and a deep crease formed around his mouth when he gazed up at her. With a nod, he returned the cloth to the basin on the table, pulled on his breeches, picked up his remaining clothes, and without ever taking his eyes from her left the room.

  Despite how beautiful the night had been, she ached with longing to have Markus back in her arms. He might have wanted to stay, but he would come to regret that if they were found out. No one could ever know what they had shared. With that in mind, Phoebe got out of bed and began the process of cleaning up the evidence.

  If she would never marry, then at least she would have this memory to cherish. She should feel ashamed, but when she thought about the way they had come together, joy shook her from head to toe and all the delicious places in between.

  * * * *

  Phoebe eased out of her chair in the breakfast room just as Mrs. Donnelly rushed in. A rest after the sleepless night was not to be.

  “Miss Hallsmith, the nanny is here. Miss Cavot arrived a moment ago. I have asked her to wait in the small parlor.”

  “I did not expect her for another few days.” Phoebe had not even spoken to Markus about Miss Cavot’s credentials yet. She had hoped to not have to face him so soon. “Where is his lordship?”

  “In his study with Mr. Blunt, Miss.”

  It took a force of will to stifle the groan building inside Phoebe. Not only Markus but Jared as well. She was being punished for being wanton and willful. It was the only explanation. “Very well. See if Miss Cavot needs tea or food and I will speak to his lordship. Please ask her to be patient, as she is early and we are not quite ready to receive her.”