Page 7 of Her Infuriating Earl
Anna hugged Phoebe tighter. “They could never hate you, Phoebe. It is a difficult time for them, as it is for you, so there is bound to be conflict. They are embracing their freedom in Society, not realizing the dangers and pitfalls, not understanding that you are the one keeping them from getting hurt.” She paused. “It is a strange, painful truth that they could never truly fathom all that you are doing for them unless they actually stumbled into one of those pitfalls, which hopefully will never happenbecauseyou are keeping them safe.”
“So, I am cursed either way?” Phoebe had to laugh, grateful that Anna had refused to go back downstairs.
Anna smiled. “They will see it when they are older, especially if they have daughters.”
“And until then?”
Anna shrugged. “The present conflicts will fade in due course. They love you, you love them, and they know, deep down, how loved they are. Endure it, have patience, and… maybe consider what Matilda and the others said, just a tiny bit.”
“They dance and converse with strangers, without permission, when they are given free rein,” Phoebe pointed out.
Anna tapped the side of her nose. “Ah, but that is because they feel like the reins are tight and want to have control of their head. If they know the reins have been loosened, I think you might be surprised by how they behave, for it will no longer be any fun to defy you.”
It was akin to being hit with a snowball that was mostly packed with ice. The realization slammed into Phoebe’s head, exploding into a spray of absolute sense. Of course, that was why Ellen and Joanna were misbehaving. Indeed, Phoebe wondered if she was quite stupid for not seeing it herself.
“When did you become the wisest of us all?” she asked, cradling Anna’s face for a moment.
Anna chuckled. “As I have been telling you all for so long, there is great wisdom in the books I read. They might not be the vast, dull tomes that Matilda pores over, but I like to think that stories are written to guide people, to pass on knowledge. That is how stories began, is it not? And one can learn a thing or two from a fairytale or a romance.”
“I shall never doubt the wisdom of such books again,” Phoebe promised, trying to remember the last time she had enjoyed a novel or a fairytale. But the last memory she could bring to mind was from girlhood, a lifetime ago.
Anna drew in a deep gulp of the crisp night air. “Would you like to return to the ballroom with me? I suspect you might be better positioned to face an evening of revels with your dearest friends, now.”
“I think I shall stay here a short while longer,” Phoebe said, filled with a desire to steal a moment for herself, away from everyone else. It was such a rarity, and she did not know when the opportunity might arise again.
Anna nodded, seemingly understanding. “If you are not with us again in half an hour, I shall send a search party.”
“I shall be twenty-nine minutes, at most,” Phoebe promised, chuckling.
Anna smiled, held her friend’s hands for a moment or two, and, with a nod of satisfaction, headed through the guest bedchamber and out, closing the door gently behind her.
It was not the first, nor the hundredth, time that Phoebe had been grateful for the steadfast loyalty and love of her friends. They knew her better than anyone, and she liked to think that she knew them better than anyone, in return. They leaned on one another through the hard times, celebrated one another’s triumphs, cheered happy news, and shared tears through each other’s sorrows. If she lived to be a hundred, still a spinster, she knew she would have no regrets, for she had been gifted the greatest love known to womankind. The love of dear friends.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, her lungs filled with fresh air, her heart beating at a steady pace, her temper cooled, her enthusiasm for the evening rising once more into the realm of reasonable excitement, Phoebe left the peace and serenity of the balcony.
First, I shall find my sisters if they have wandered off, and I will apologize for being something of a tyrant,she told herself, slipping out of the bedchamber and heading down the hallway.Then, I shall stand on the periphery and watch them have a lovely evening. I shall not interfere, this time, unless it is absolutely necessary.
Although, if Joannadiddecide to dance with Daniel again, she would have to forbid it. That gentleman, aside from being clumsy and ill-mannered, was a known flirt whose business endeavors took him halfway across the world for most of the year, putting him at the very top of Phoebe’s “Wastrel List.”
“I must make it through the evening without upsetting either of them,” Phoebe mumbled to herself as she turned the corner onto the landing. “I must—”
She did not see the man standing there so much as felt the impact as she collided with him. Her hands shot out to steady herself, gripping the fellow’s lapels to prevent the momentum from sending her sprawling. But as she looked up, panicked, into the eyes of the fool who had decided to stand in the most awkward of places, her fear shivered into a prickle of irritation.
That was when she felt it: a warm wetness, seeping through the front of her new gown, the first purchase she had made for herself in years, bought solely for the occasion of her friend’s ball.
Horrified, she glanced down, her heart sinking as she saw the bright red mess of spilled strawberry ice, staining the jade-green muslin, spreading out like she had been shot.
Daniel laughed, though it was a strange, high-pitched sound, as if an invisible hand had tightened around his throat. “We really need to cease meeting like this,” he said awkwardly, whipping out his handkerchief. He stretched a hand out as if he meant to dab away the strawberry-red stain, prompting Phoebe to stagger backward, out of his reach.
“What do you think you are doing?” she hissed, putting up her hands in a defensive X. To any bystander, she knew she must have looked ridiculous, but she did not care.
“Iwasabout to help remove some of the ice you spilled on yourself,” he replied, waving the handkerchief.
Phoebe felt as if steam was about to whistle out of her ears, her face was so hot, the temperature continuing to rise. “ThatIspilled on myself? Are you quite serious? You are the one lurking in corners where you should not be!” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you always eat flavored ice where no one can see you? Are you shy about the way you eat it? Are you not supposed to eat it? Your behavior, as ever, is bewildering, as is your unwillingness to accept responsibility, making a jest where you ought to be apologizing!”
“Did I not say that I was sorry?” He seemed genuinely confused.
