Page 6 of Her Infuriating Earl
Phoebe’s cheeks shifted from red to purple. “It is nothing, Sister. An unfortunate… mishap.”
“I stepped on the skirts of your sister’s gown,” Daniel explained, without thinking. “It tore, and she had to wear a tablecloth for the shortest while before Olivia fetched a new gown for her. She did not have to endure the embarrassment for long at all, and no one noticed.”
Phoebe’s jaw dropped, the raging fire in her eyes radiating out like a furnace.
Meanwhile, Joanna collapsed into a fit of laughter, holding her stomach as she bent double, howling at her sister’s misfortune. “Why… did you not… tell me about this?” she wheezed. “When did… this happen? Oh, I wish I had seen it! I have never seen my… sister put so much as… a toe wrong. How delicious it… would have been to learn that… you are not perfect, after all.”
A carousel of emotions flashed across Phoebe’s face, flitting from outrage to humiliation to something like hurt and back to outrage again. “I have never claimed to be perfect, nor do I consider myself to be anything of the sort,” she insisted, her voice croaky. “And I do not appreciate you telling stories, My Lord, when it is quite obvious that I did not want them to be told.”
“So, you are allowed to slight me, but I am not allowed to return the favor?” Daniel challenged, ignoring the pinch of guilt in his stomach. He did not know why he had told the story, but it had been out of his mouth and into the world before he could stop it.
This time, it was the small, shy, elfin member of the Spinsters’ Club who stepped forward. “My Lord, I really do think it is time that you left to find your friends,” she said coolly. “Save some of your… peculiar entertainment for them.”
“But I have just begun,” Daniel protested playfully.
The sweet-faced woman flashed a surprisingly icy smile. “I do not think Caroline would consider this a friendly amusement, do you? You know how fond she is of us all, and how fond we are of her. I doubt she would like it if she discovered that you had been teasing Phoebe.”
Daniel dropped his gaze for a moment, gathering himself before raising his head to look at Phoebe once more. “I meant no ill will, Miss Wilson.” He paused. “I forgot I was in female company, and not with my acquaintances.”
Phoebe said nothing, her glinting eyes doing all the talking.
“If you will excuse me, ladies.” He bowed his head again and turned to leave, but as he did, he caught Joanna’s still-watering eyes, and a mischievous smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Miss Wilson—MissJoannaWilson—I think I shall see you again very soon.”
As he quickly moved away from the women, he heard a sharp gasp behind him, and a quiet hiss of, “Joanna!”
He might not have torn Phoebe’s dress or spilled wine on her, but he had certainly upset the apple cart. Yet, he still did not know why he was intent on doing such things. It was as if something had possessed him, urging him to behave in a manner that was unbecoming. But one thought lingered as he pressed on through the crush of bodies.
Maybe a wife would not be so bad…
Even to him, it made sense, for there came a time when every man of business had to protect his assets. And what could safeguard the fortune he had built for his family more than an heir or two?
CHAPTERTHREE
Phoebe stood on the balcony of her guest bedchamber, dragging the cold night air into her lungs, staring out at the unfamiliar gardens of Bergfield Manor. She could hear the muffled music of the ball below, but her friends had suggested that it might be for the best if she removed herself for a while. They had promised to watch over her sisters in her absence, though whether or not anyone could keep an eye on Ellen and Joanna remained a mystery to her.
“I think he was being truthful when he said he meant no ill will,” Anna said from the doorway. She had followed Phoebe up to the bedchamber, refusing to be turned away. “Even you have laughed about those incidents since.”
Phoebe closed her eyes. “It was… poor timing, that is all.”
“What do you mean?” Anna stepped out onto the balcony and came to stand at Phoebe’s side.
Phoebe shook her head. “It was the same way when I first encountered him—when he tore my dress,” she said haltingly, trying to push her words past her simmering anger. “I had endured a trying day with the girls, who had thought it would be amusing to put a frog in my luggage. And when he stood on my dress and I was left standing there, mortified, it was… the last straw. I railed at him because I was already in an ill temper. I believe I did it again this evening, like history repeating itself.”
“He was needlessly unkind,” Anna said, making Phoebe laugh a little.
“I thought you just said you believed he meant no ill will?”
“Well, I think both are true. I think he got carried away because of his previous encounters with you and spoke out of turn because of his own embarrassment,” Anna explained. “A gentleman does not like anyone to know that he is clumsy or ungainly.”
Phoebe drew in a deep breath, letting it ease the tightness in her chest, feeling the muscles in her body loosen slightly. In truth,shehad not intended to be so curt and impolite to Daniel. He was the brother of someone that the Spinsters’ Club cherished, someone Phoebe thought of as an additional little sister, and the last thing she wanted to do was make things uncomfortable between everyone, even if she did not exactly favor Daniel.
The ball, she was certain, had sent her quite mad, though she suspected the madness had begun the day that her sisters debuted, over a year ago. Maybe even before then.
“I think… they hate me,” Phoebe said quietly, her voice trembling.
Anna put an arm around her friend, holding her close. “Who?”
“My sisters. I think they hate me.” Phoebe swallowed uncomfortably. “And what is worse, I cannot blame them. I think I would hate me, too, if I were my mother… or someone pretending to be.”
