A Lady's Honor

by A. S. Fenichel

  Mrs. Donnelly stood straight and folded her hands in front of her. “Of course. I will take care of her while you deal with the rest.”

  Phoebe walked down the hall and across the foyer. How she wished she were the kind of person to run from anything. As an Everton lady, she could not. She knocked.

  “Come in,” Markus called from inside.

  With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

  Both men froze looking at her from behind the desk. Jared stooped over Markus’s left shoulder as the two had been examining some papers.

  Markus stood.

  Jared pulled a stern face.

  Everton Ladies did not run. “My lord, the nanny is here. I apologize but I thought you might like to discuss her qualifications before I introduce her to Miss Elizabeth.”

  Jared straightened and frowned with his hands behind his back.

  Markus nodded. “She is early. Blunt, please excuse us for a few minutes.”

  With a brief smile at Phoebe, Jared stomped out of the study.

  Markus walked to the door and closed it before holding the chair near his desk. Fresh cut wood and spices that were distinctly Markus assaulted her senses. “Please sit, Phoebe. Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?” She sat more slowly than she might normally, but hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  Once he rounded his desk, Markus sat. “I worried you might be sore after last night. Actually, I worried about many things with regard to your feelings this morning as well.”

  “Markus, can we just talk about Miss Cavot?” Her face burned, and she hated her inability to control her embarrassment. She should be flattered that he cared about her health, but she wished she could sink into the thick carpet and disappear.

  Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair then rested them on the desk. “As you wish.”

  Sticking to business was the best way to get through the awkward moment. Phoebe gave a long account of the letters and references that preceded Miss Cavot by one day. “The agency must have sent her before we even had the mail in hand. I suppose they were confident that we could not disapprove.”

  “It sounds as if she is more than qualified. Shall we see if Elizabeth takes to her?” He stood.

  She stood, forgetting about her aches and pains, but the quick movement reminded her.

  Markus rushed around the desk. “You are in pain. I am so sorry, Phoebe. You must know I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I am only a little sore, as I imagine anyone would be. Please do not fret over me. These are strange circumstances, and we will have to endure each other’s company for a few more days. If Miss Cavot is as wonderful as the agency says, I will be out of your hair very soon and we can resume our normal lives.” Her voice was steady and she was proud of how calm and official she sounded.

  His frown shot darts in her heart. “And that is what you wish, to return to London as soon as possible?”

  “I am a Lady of the Everton Domestic Society. I have broken more rules than I care to enumerate. I would be most grateful if what happened between us was kept private, and since you are a gentleman, I have no doubt of that. My place is to return to the London office and await my next assignment.”

  “Is this because of Emma?” He tipped her chin up, but she pulled away.

  “Of course not. There is no blame to be placed. You have your duty and I have mine. Our honor dictates how we go forward, my lord.” She gripped the back of the chair and hoped he couldn’t tell her fingers shook.

  The muscle in his jaw ticked the way it had when he restrained himself the night before. “I am trying very hard to not become upset with you, Phoebe. There is no way I can pretend that I understand your decision, but there is no need to insult me or belie our friendship by calling me my lord.”

  If her heart tore from her chest, it would not have surprised her. Nothing could be more difficult, but she had no business with a viscount and certainly not with the earl he would become. She would do well to marry Mr. Blunt, but the thought repulsed her. No. Everton’s was the perfect place for her. “I apologize. I do not wish to insult you or ruin our friendship, Markus. It is only that I have to leave, and it would be easier on both of us if we did not repeat what happened last night.”

  Impossibly, his frown deepened. “As you wish. Where is Miss Cavot?”

  Swallowing the pain of his cool tone, she pulled her shoulders back. “In the small parlor.”

  He motioned for her to precede him out the door, every movement stiff and brisk as if he held back.

  The situation was difficult, but she knew that in a few weeks he would be glad she had been the voice of reason. She couldn’t bear another broken engagement, and surely that would have been the outcome of an entanglement with Markus.

  “I will go and get Elizabeth and meet you in the parlor.” He took the steps two at a time.

  Phoebe stood outside the parlor door and calmed her breathing. Her emotions were a jumble of confusion, yet she was certain she was doing the right thing. Everton Ladies do their assignment, then they move on. One more deep breath and she pushed the door open.

  A few years older than Phoebe, Miss Cavot had brown hair and blue eyes. She wore a brown dress with white trim and sat with her hands in her lap. She stood when Phoebe entered.

  “I am Phoebe Hallsmith. I am acting as temporary assistant to the viscount.”

  “Winnifred Cavot. It is nice to meet you.” She curtsied.

  Phoebe did as well, then walked over, offering Miss Cavot her seat again. “We did not expect you for a few days, Miss Cavot. I only received the letter with your references yesterday.”

  Eyes wide, Miss Cavot blushed. “I am sorry. The agency said you were in need and sent me directly. If I had known you were not informed, I would have given you a few days to decline before setting out.”

  “Never mind that now. You are here, and if Miss Elizabeth approves, you will have the post. I must warn you, Elizabeth has had no mother and a difficult time of it. She does not speak, though I feel she is capable, just unwilling.”

  “Poor lamb. In some cases, the child can wait years to speak. I hope I will be able to help her.” Miss Cavot smoothed her skirts and sorrow filled her eyes.

  Sympathy was a good trait in a nanny. “Your last employer, Lord Guthry, said you had a way with children and they were sorry to let you go when their son went to school.”

  “John was a good boy. I miss him, but he and I write to keep in touch. May I ask you a question, Miss Hallsmith?” Miss Cavot leaned in.

  “Of course.”

  “You said you were a temporary assistant. Do you mean housekeeper? I met Mrs. Donnelly who said she was the housekeeper. I am not quite sure I understand how this house works.”

  “I am from the Everton Domestic Society. This is my current assignment, and once you are settled in, I will go back to London. You should find the house in order. Watson and Mrs. Donnelly are capable of keeping up with the staff. You will be charged with caring for and educating Miss Elizabeth. All will be well.” It was all true and should have made her happy. She had done her best and accomplished a tremendous amount in the short time she’d been at Rosefield. They did not need her anymore. A knot filled her chest like a lump of coal had replaced her heart.

  “I have heard of the society, but you are the first Everton lady I have ever met. Do you like your work?” Miss Cavot’s eager enthusiasm brightened the mood.

  Phoebe forced a smile. “It is very satisfying to help a family in need. This has been a good assignment. The family is visiting. His lordship’s mother, sister, and brother-in-law are here. They will stay a week or two, I believe.”

  “I see. Thank you for informing me.” Miss Cavot rolled along with the change of subject and asked no more questions about Phoebe’s work.

  The door opened and Elizabeth
ran in followed by Markus. She took one look at Miss Cavot and stopped short. With wide green eyes, she stared from Phoebe to Miss Cavot.

  “It is all right, Elizabeth. This is Miss Cavot, and she is going to care for you. She is your new nanny.” Phoebe forced calm into every word.

  Miss Cavot stood and curtsied. “How do you do Miss Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth dropped into an awkward and adorable curtsy, then stepped closer.

  Phoebe said, “Miss Cavot, this is Markus Flammel, Viscount of Devonrose.

  Markus bowed and joined them.

  Another curtsy from Miss Cavot and they all sat.

  Question after question, Miss Cavot answered without flinching. She even managed to keep Elizabeth from breaking a vase while telling Markus about her former employment. By the time they left the small parlor, Markus, Elizabeth, and Miss Cavot were all satisfied with the situation.

  Phoebe just wanted to go to her room and cry.

  At the third step, Dorothea Wheel stopped her. “Miss Hallsmith, do you have a moment?”

  Her tears would have to wait. Plastering a smile on her face, she turned. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Wheel?”

  Dory threaded her hand around Phoebe’s elbow. “I wonder if you would sit in the parlor and talk for a while. It has been years since I saw you last. I would like to get reacquainted with the woman who saved my brother and returned order to Rosefield in so short a time.”

  “I did not save him. He was ready to return to his life. I only pushed the issue and perhaps made him feel guilt over his behavior.” Phoebe stifled her sigh and went to the larger parlor with Dory.

  “I tried guilt when we came and he tossed us from the house. Markus can be quite stubborn.” Dory called for tea.

  Sitting, Phoebe smoothed her skirts. “As I said, Mrs. Wheel, he was ready to return.”

  “You should call me Dory. I know we have not seen each other in years, but I hope to count you among my friends, Phoebe.”

  “Thank you. Most of my friends disengaged with me years ago when I went to Scotland, and the rest abandoned ship when I joined the Everton Domestic Society a year ago. It would be nice to have a friend outside of my work.” Phoebe fought off those emotions she usually kept tucked away. There was no sense feeling bad about the past.

  “I think you have made a very brave and interesting choice. Are you happy with your work?” The tea arrived and they waited for Katy to leave before speaking.

  “I am satisfied. I enjoy helping people and I am not forced to marry where I do not wish.”

  Dory rolled her eyes. “You were away when I proposed to Tom. Did you know he saved me from having to marry an old beast of an earl? We eloped.”

  Finally, someone who might understand. “I had no idea. I’m afraid very little news got to me in Scotland while my grandmother was ill. I heard only the news Mother sent. Usually she only wrote to tell me bad news or how disappointed she was in me.”

  A long sigh from Dory filled the room. “Mother and I have come to terms, but it was a difficult transition. I hope you and your mother will find a way to come back together.”

  That was doubtful but a nice notion. “I hear congratulations are in order. My maid told me you are going to have a baby.”

  A lovely blush bloomed across Dory’s face. “We are thrilled. I hope it is a boy but Tom says he wants a girl. I thought all men wanted boys.”

  The vision of Markus telling the story of Jack the Giant Slayer to Elizabeth crowded Phoebe’s mind. “Little girls have a way of warming their father’s hearts.”

  “Not my father’s.” Dory’s smile faded and sorrow filled her eyes.

  “Markus dotes on Elizabeth.” The moment it was out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. Calling him Markus and the dreamy quality in her voice surely didn’t escape Dory’s notice.

  “You and my brother have grown close?” Her question held curiosity but no venom.

  Phoebe lifted her tea and sipped it. “We are friends in the way that can happen when thrust together by circumstances.”

  Cocking her head made Dory’s perfect blond curls slide to the side. “What was your father like?”

  Thanking God for the change of subject, Phoebe said, “He was a kind and gentle man like Miles. He always made me feel like I was the light of his life, and I miss him every day.”

  “I have met your brother Miles. He is a friend of Tom’s. He is a charming gentleman. It is strange he has not found a nice girl to marry.”

  Shrugging, Phoebe sipped the cooling tea. “As the third son, he has little to offer a girl of any breeding. He runs my oldest brother Ford’s estates and does so very handily. I think he is happy.”

  “He has an allowance. Surely it is enough to keep a wife. Perhaps you can introduce him to a nice Everton lady. He should find someone smart and brave like his sister.” Dory smiled over her cup.

  “Men do not want women who have aged to the point where Everton’s is their only hope.” The lump of coal returned.

  Dory laughed. “Men have no idea what they want until it is dropped into their laps, and even then, it can take some ranting to get them to see what is right before them.”

  Chapter 14

  No. 1

  All assignments are to be satisfactorily completed before an Everton lady is permitted to leave her post.

  —The Everton Companion

  Rules of Conduct

  She was leaving him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Markus had tried to talk to Phoebe, but she had sent him away. All day long the trunks were packed and things were made ready for her and Honoria to leave the next day. It might have been wrong, but he hoped the carriage would throw a wheel and keep her at Rosefield a few days longer.

  Memories of one beautiful night ran wild in his mind as he stared at the ceiling above his bed. Phoebe’s skin was silk and she responded to him as if they have been created for each other. Why couldn’t she see that? Her strange sense of honor was keeping them apart, and he didn’t know how to change her mind.

  Markus tossed the blankets aside and pulled on his breeches and blouse before tromping down to the kitchen. The flickering candlelight stopped him on the servants’ stairs. He eased down the remaining steps and peeked around the open doorway.

  Head in her hand, she bit into a forkful of pie. Red hair cascaded over her arm and down her shoulders. Knowing its texture made him hard just at the thought of touching her. The candle glinted off a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “Why are you crying?” He only whispered the question, but she jumped. Putting up both hands in surrender, he said, “I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “I thought you had come and gone.” She took another bite of pie, but there was no joy in her face as she ate. Still, her skin gleamed in the flickering candlelight and she looked like a sad goddess of the night.

  He sat next to her, took the fork from her, and leaned it on the edge of the plate. “You are sad because you are leaving yet I have asked you to stay.”

  Wiping her face, she sat up straight and pulled her shoulders back. “This is my third assignment and it is always emotional as they draw to an end.”

  Her words injured him but he was coming to understand this was her brave face. “Then you would tell me Rosefield has been no different from any other Everton posting?”

  A deep breath brought her breasts to the edge of her shift as she leaned against him. “You know that is not true, Markus. No assignment will ever compare to being here with you and Elizabeth.”

  Joy burst inside him and he wrapped his arm around her. “Then stay, sweetheart. Stay here with us.”

  “I cannot. If you knew how much I wish things were different and how this is killing me, Markus, you would stop pursuing me.” With another deep breath, she sat up away from him. “I have made my choice. I am an Everton lady. I come into a
home and sort out the family’s problems, then I leave and move on to the next assignment. It is a good life for a girl like me. When you remarry, is should be to a young girl from a substantial family. Someone who can add value to your home. I am on the shelf. This is no place for me.”

  He turned the chair to face her, grabbed the side edge of her chair, and pulled until the wooden seats met with a knock.

  Phoebe gasped, wide-eyed, and stared at him.

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I do not care about your dowry and I certainly would not call you old.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her shoulders. “You might not, but many would. People would say that I trapped you into marrying me. Eventually you would resent me. What happened between us is no reason to remain together. I will not marry you.”

  “I cannot pretend to understand your decision.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head while pulling her into him with his other arm around her waist. “I see that what I want is not important. Your happiness is what is most concerning, and so out of respect for you, I will abide your wishes.”

  “Thank you.” The words were a sad whisper with no force behind them.

  Lowering his head, he kept his gaze locked with hers until their lips met.

  She sighed into the kiss and he deepened it. Breath and body merged in a way he could compare to nothing else. Everything around him tightened to the one point where Phoebe was his. He made love to her lips the way he wished he could take her body. A lifetime of loving mashed into the few moments with Phoebe in his arms.

  Every sigh and pant from her brought him joy and sorrow. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. Her touch set him on fire, branding him with her mark and tearing out his soul.