A Lady's Honor

by A. S. Fenichel

  Sweet berry pie mixed with the warm taste of Phoebe overwhelmed his senses. His shaft tightened despite the knowledge he would get no relief. One last kiss was all it was.

  Her tears mixed with salty remorse as he broke the contact. “I wish things were different. If you change your mind, I will honor my offer. Do not hesitate to contact me.”

  Lips parted and blinking at him so innocently, she was irresistible. “I shall not change my mind. You are a good man, Markus. Find a suitable wife and a mother for Elizabeth and be happy.”

  There was nothing left to say and his breaking heart held his tongue.

  Phoebe slid off the opposite side of the chair and ran from the kitchen.

  Head on his arm, he held his emotions in check. No good would come from mourning Phoebe, but this hurt almost as badly as losing Emma had. Every moment since she came into his life rolled around in his head. He searched for what he could have done differently to make her want to stay with him, but no epiphany came.

  The sun peeked through the servants’ door as Becca let the dairyman in with the milk and cheese. They stopped and stared at him. Becca said, “My lord, are you all right?”

  Drawing a painful breath, he stood. “Fine.”

  “Can I get you something? I can have coffee for you in a few minutes.” She rushed to the stove.

  Markus walked to the door. “No. Nothing, Becca. I should go and start my day.”

  Instead of heading toward his bedroom, he crossed to the far end of the lower level and passed through a stone hallway to the wine cellar. Wine and brandy lined one wall in the perfectly temperate stone cellar. All he had to do was uncork a few and swallow away his pain. He ran his hand along the finest vintage and his mouth watered for a taste. Perhaps he could just have one glass to take the edge off. He might get through the day if he was just a little numb.

  “It’s early for a drink,” Thomas said from the bottom step.

  “Yes. I know.” He swallowed and closed his eyes, hoping the need for drink would pass.

  Thomas slapped his back. “Your very fine cook has some nice coffee brewing and food is in the works. Might be best if we went upstairs. I have taken the liberty of asking Blakely to have your bath drawn.”

  God, how he wanted a drink, but to have one would mean breaking his promise to Phoebe. Was her leaving reason enough to break his word? And what of his commitment to Elizabeth? “That was kind of you, Tom.”

  “Do you want to talk about whatever sent you into the cellar at dawn?” Thomas had always been the friend they could all tell their problems to. He was always there for his friends.

  Markus had not been available to Thomas when he was in need. Another mistake he would have to make up for. “Miss Hallsmith is leaving.”

  “Do you still have need of her?” Thomas sat on the steps.

  Markus clutched his elbows, hoping it would keep him from reaching for a bottle. “Not perhaps in the way you mean.”

  “Oh? Are you in love with Miss Hallsmith?”

  Guilt and horror assaulted him. “I love Emma.”

  Cocking his head to one side, Thomas said, “Do you not think it is possible to love Emma and be in love with Phoebe?”

  In the years he had loved Emma, another woman had never entered his mind in a romantic way. Not until Phoebe Hallsmith barged in and took over. Loving Emma was all consuming. “I do not know. I have loved Emma for so long.”

  With a nod, Thomas smiled. “You shall always love Emma. There is no reason you should stop, and I doubt Phoebe would ask that of you. As I understand it from your mother, Phoebe was a great friend of Emma’s. If you love her, you might want to tell her.”

  “She is probably loading her carriage now. I asked her to stay and she refused. There is some silly code within the Everton Domestic Society that prohibits her from staying after her work is done.”

  Thomas shifted his feet. “Perhaps it is best to deal with one issue at a time. This cellar is cold and uncomfortable. Come upstairs and have a bath and break your fast. You can deal with your feelings for Miss Hallsmith later. She is only going to London. It is not as if she is leaving the country.”

  Hope edged into Markus’s despair like an unwanted fiend. He turned back to the bottles. “Can you do something for me, Tom?”

  “Anything.” Thomas straightened his morning coat.

  “Can you have all of this removed from Rosefield?” He gestured toward the wall of temptation.

  A wide smile spread across Thomas’s face. “It will be my pleasure, Markus. I have to say I am very proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” Markus trudged up the steps forcing his desire for drink down. “I think that bath is just the thing, followed by a good meal.”

  Without commenting on the flurry of activity as Phoebe and Honoria made to leave, Markus went up the steps. He paused as he passed Honoria on the stairs. Her dark blue dress, cut with a nod to the Navy, she was more appropriately dressed than he’d ever seen her. “I wish you a safe journey, my lady.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I am sorry to see this assignment come to an end. I have enjoyed my time here at Rosefield. You have a lovely home. I hope you will spend more time here in the future.” She made a pretty curtsy, considering they stood at the center of the steps.

  “Your presence here has been a wonderful addition. You may consider yourself family and feel free to return any time. Elizabeth and I would be happy to see you again.”

  “That is most kind. I would enjoy seeing you both again. Now I must go and find Mr. Duck and say my goodbyes.”

  “Duck?” Markus was constantly surprised by the old groundskeeper.

  She blushed. “He is quite good company and a fine friend.”

  Taking her hand, he bowed over it. “Best of luck to you.”

  “You will find Miss Hallsmith is finalizing her packing in her room.”

  “The lady has made it clear she does not wish to see me.”

  She patted his cheek. “You know nothing of women.” With a giggle, she trotted down the steps and went toward the garden in search of Duck.

  At the top of the stairs, he hesitated. Knowing he should ring for Blakely and not come out of his bath until Phoebe was long gone did not stop him from walking to her bedroom door. He stood outside, sad that soon this room would just be a guest room and not where his sweet Phoebe spent restless nights. He knocked.

  “Yes, come in.”

  Opening the door bathed him in her clean fresh scent. She stood by the window staring out into the gardens while Arwen fussed over her trunk.

  Arwen curtsied and excused herself.

  A long sigh escaped Phoebe as she turned toward him. “We are ready to take our leave of you.”

  It was proper to keep the door open when visiting a lady without a chaperon, but Markus closed the door. He crossed to her and wrapped her in his arms.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair and toyed with the curls at the back of his neck.

  Kissing her cheek, her chin, then capturing her lips, he reveled in the moan that merged with his own. There was perfection in their kisses and the way their bodies fit together. Breaking the kiss, he breathed her in. “I wish you all the happiness you can stand, Phoebe. I want only good for you.”

  “And I for you, Markus. You and Elizabeth will be better now. I am confident you have turned a corner and will never go back.”

  If he lied, he could force her to stay. Tell her that he would slide back into his former drunkenness and she would feel compelled to remain. He tucked her silken hair behind her ear. “I will be the model father. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Lifting on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. Tears ran freely down her face but she smiled. “I will miss you.”

  “My offer still stands….”

  Before he could renew the offer in words, she pressed her
fingers to his lips. “No. I am an Everton lady and it is time to return to London. You have everything in order here.”

  Stepping out of his embrace, she patted her hair and brushed out her gray skirt. “Goodbye, my lord.”

  He watched as she stepped around him and walked to the door. “I have not changed my mind either, Phoebe. My offer still stands should you change your mind.”

  Back to him, she paused for a heartbeat. Shoulders straight, she opened the door and walked out of his life.

  * * * *

  Despite his need for Phoebe, Markus struggled with the idea of romantic love with anyone but Emma. After his bath, he went downstairs to break his fast.

  Mother, Dory, Thomas, and Elizabeth all sat eating.

  Miss Cavot fed Elizabeth, who played with as much food as she ate. The new nanny smiled and spoke in low tones as she coaxed more food into her.

  Dory smiled. “I rather like this tradition of having Elizabeth at the table. Mother and I have decided breaking our fasts should be done here rather than in our rooms.”

  Markus sat and a footman brought his coffee. “I am surprised you approve, Mother. When we were young you always took your breakfast in your room.”

  “As Dorothea said, your tradition appeals to me. It is comforting to see one’s family in the morning over a meal.” Margaret sipped her coffee and watched him over the rim of the cup. “Miss Hallsmith did a remarkable job. I was sorry to see her go so early this morning.”

  “She will be starving by the time they reach London,” Dory said.

  Markus held his breath until the pain ebbed. “She did not break her fast?”

  Dory shook her head. “Lady Chervil stopped in for a bite to eat, but Miss Hallsmith only said her goodbyes and out the door she went. Surely, she will have another assignment in short order. She really is magnificent at her job.”

  Jared Blunt entered the breakfast room and bowed. “Sir, I know you said I could not bother Miss Hallsmith, but I need to speak to her.”

  Fingers itching to strangle Blunt’s skinny neck, Markus took the offered newspaper from Thomas. “You will have to go to London if you want to speak to her, Blunt. I no longer have command over who bothers Miss Hallsmith.”

  Wide-eyed and mouth agape, Jared Blunt stammered. “She is gone?”

  “To London.” Markus read the same sentence about some ninny who was engaged to an earl for the sixth time.

  Blunt masked his features and stood straight. “I must request some time away, my lord.”

  It was within Markus’s power to keep at least one suitor away from Phoebe, but if she wanted Blunt, she should have him. “Take what time you need. I can manage awhile without you.”

  With a bow, Blunt ran from the room.

  Markus ate a bite of toast and drank his coffee before excusing himself to hide away in his study. The mountain of work forced on him by his father’s negligence and his own was staggering and would keep his mind off Phoebe and her suitors.

  He’d barely read a paragraph of a late notice from the magistrate when his mother walked in without knocking.

  He stood. “Mother, is something wrong?”

  It might have been the first time he’d ever seen his mother at a loss for what to say. She circled the room then stopped at the window and stared into the garden. A light snow blew snow flurries in all directions. “I am fond of Miss Hallsmith.”

  Unsure why his mother made the statement, Markus waited for more information. When none came, he said, “I am fond of her as well.”

  “Did you ruin her?” Here was the mother he knew. Direct and insulting but thoroughly observant.

  “I do not believe that is an appropriate question. However, if I had, Mother, you can be sure I would have done the right thing and made the lady an offer of marriage.” His heart beat as if he were back in front of the headmaster at Eton after hitting Wormwood with a bat.

  Finally, she walked to the desk and sat facing him. “I thought she would be good for you and my granddaughter.”

  He eased into his chair, wary of where this conversation was going. “And you were right. Going to Everton to help me sort through things was an excellent idea. I appreciate what you have done, Mother.”

  “I chose Miss Phoebe Hallsmith specifically because she has always had a strong will. I never liked her mother much, but the girl always struck me as sensible and smart.” Mother picked a piece of lint from her royal blue skirt.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Why did she leave?”

  “Her obligation here was fulfilled. Miss Cavot’s arrival and success with Elizabeth was the last duty she felt necessary, and now she will take on some other chore with some other family.” It hurt to say the words. Phoebe was more than an Everton lady. She’d ripped his heart from his chest and taken it to London with her.

  “It pains me to say that I raised an idiot, but there it is. That girl was perfect for you. You clearly have feelings for her yet you let her get away and be courted by that secretary, and from what the servants tell me there is an old fiancé sniffing at her skirts as well.”

  “Mother, it is none of your business, but I asked her to stay. Miss Hallsmith declined. What would you have me do, chain her to the house? Lock her in a dungeon?”

  Whatever Mother opened her mouth to say was stopped by a knock on the door and Elizabeth running in. Her pale yellow dress floated around her.

  Miss Cavot stood at the threshold, red-faced. “I am sorry, my lord. She is due for a nap, but became hysterical and ran to your door.”

  Markus picked Elizabeth up and put her on his lap. “It is all right, Miss Cavot. You may leave her with me. I will take her up for her nap in a few minutes.”

  The door closed and Markus leaned down, taking in the sweet scent of her hair. Perhaps his heart was not dead after all. He certainly had room for Elizabeth. More than enough room, in fact. “What seems to be the trouble, Elizabeth?”

  She turned her cherub face toward him. Eyebrows drawn down and nose scrunched up, she opened her mouth. “Papa, want Fee.”

  Though her words stung, the fact that she had said them forced joy into his heart until he thought he might drown in it. He wanted to dance around the house screaming about her having spoken, but he feared that might quiet her again. Pretending her speaking was normal would be best. “I am certain you miss Phoebe, as we all do, Elizabeth. She has gone back to her own life and we have much to do here at home.”

  Elizabeth stuck her thumb in her mouth and leaned her head on his chest. “Fee,” she said around her thumb.

  Daring to glance at Mother, he saw her raised eyebrows in that I told you so way she had. “I will be in the small parlor if you need me. I have several letters to write.”

  “I will see you at luncheon, Mother.”

  With a nod, she left the study and closed the door behind her.

  “If the weather improves in the next day or two, I think you and I should go and visit your mother, Elizabeth. I have been negligent in visiting and you have never been. I have much to atone for.” His mother was right. He was an idiot. So many things he should have done, but instead he drank, let his father run his inheritance into the ground, ignored his daughter, and let Phoebe Hallsmith walk away.

  Holding Elizabeth with one arm, he jotted a note to James Hardwig asking if there was any progress finding Father. He addressed it to Bow Street and left it on the tray to be posted. “Time for your nap, Elizabeth.”

  “Papa.” Her voice was scratchy but high and sweet.

  It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “I am very pleased to hear you call me that. Do you like your new nanny?”

  She nodded. “Nice, Winny.”

  Chuckling, he lifted her and headed toward the nursery.

  Miss Cavot waited with a pleasant smile and the serenity that hovered around her. “R
eady for a nap now, Miss?”

  Elizabeth went to her willingly but mumbled something about Fee before Markus made his escape. Aching on the inside, he changed his clothes and went to the barn. A good long ride on a cool day would take one redhead off his mind. At least he hoped so. He waved to Duck, who put feed in the chicken coop.

  A boy with pale skin and a shock of dark hair ran into the yard. “Mi’lord?”

  “I need a horse saddled.”

  “Yes, Sir.” He turned.

  “What is your name, boy?” It was time he stopped thinking of everyone as the new stableboy or the new maid. This was his home, and he needed to know the people in it. He made a note to have the staff gathered for proper introductions and a short chat with each.

  “Wyatt, mi’lord. I just come to work for you a week ago.” His hair fell over his eyes and he brushed it back.

  “Welcome to Rosefield, Wyatt. I am sure you will be a worthy addition to the staff.”

  Wyatt gave a toothy grin and ran into the barn.

  Leaning on the fence that surrounded the stable yard, Markus shivered. Winter would be there any day. It had been teasing for some time. Emma’s roses were cut back and nothing bloomed any longer. London would be quiet. What would Phoebe do for the long, cold months? Who would protect her from Durnst and Blunt?

  Knowing she didn’t need his protection didn’t make him feel any less responsible. If only he could discover why she wouldn’t stay. It could be that he was too much work and she had done all she could. Yet she was not without desire for him. Phoebe was not the type to share herself with a man she did not care for.

  “Your horse, my lord.” Wyatt handed him the reins.

  Markus jumped into the saddle. “Thank you.”

  When Wyatt opened the gate, Markus trotted out and kept a slow pace for a mile or so before he kicked the horse into a gallop. The cold air whipped his cheeks and made his eyes tear. The panting horse forced Markus to slow at the far end of his property.

  George Harper strode down the road toward him. “Good afternoon, my lord. Are you well? You look a bit…”

  Leaving the sentence unfinished was a kindness. Wet streaks nearly froze on his face. Dismounting, he patted the horse and took the leather over her head, then wiped his face on the sleeve of his coat. “I am fine, George. Just a bit out of sorts.”