Page 54 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
“We must marry — that is all there is to it. I compromise you now, in sitting here with you, but we are of an age when few will concern themselves with such things. The banns can be posted quickly, I think, and much of the falderal associated with society weddings can be dispensed, with, do you not think? Oh, Helena will be so pleased, I am sure. She loves you like a mother already.” His voice was husky with emotion.
Helena? Mother?
That voice. No. ‘Twas impossible. It was not what she was thinking. Ice flowed through her veins, dousing the flames of passion in an instant. Phoebe launched away from him, stumbling, nearly falling. The hand that reached out to steady hers was large, the fingers blunt and square. The ring upon the hand was one she knew, all too well.
Phoebe’s mouth open and closed. She could not speak. The words simply would not come.
Harcourt Barrington, the Duke of York stood, strong and sure, drawing his hand back as he regarded her with some concern. “Phoebe? Are you well? Dash it all, I suppose I have taken this too quickly. Women like weddings to be sure, so if you want one, I have little objection. Helena would enjoy helping in the planning. It would do her good to have a project, something to occupy her time.”
“What areyoudoing here?” The words came out quickly, a shrill scream, as she stepped back, away from the Duke, feeling sure she might faint.No…No, this cannot be. I have not…This was not…
“Phoebe! Please, allow me to help you sit. I will ring for a servant. Some water perhaps. You are overcome. My darling, I am just as overcome. I had no idea…I had not even thought about it, but when I see you now, like this, I can only be sure. More sure than I have been of anything in my life thatthisis meant to be. My love, please stay for a moment…”
He meant to grasp the bell pull. Any moment there would be someone there at the door who would see him, would seethem, and draw such hideous conclusions.James! Where was James?
Unable to endure the idea of anyone finding her like this, Phoebe lunged after him, her intent upon keeping him from that bell pull. She would indeed be ruined if so much as a servant came and saw them together. And then there would be no getting out of the actions that would follow — likely a forced marriage to this man, this ridiculous duke nearly twice her age, who looked upon her now with such fond concern that she would surely scream.
Phoebe’s hands scrabbled at Harcourt’s sleeve, and she was now near to begging for him to stop. Only she was not the one to beg. The very idea of being Helena’smotherwas enough to give her the strength to push him away. “Stop, you old fool, before you ruin us all!” she cried.
The Duke turned to her in surprise, eyes widening as he put his arms around her. “Nay, my dear, be not afraid. There will be no ruination for us if that is what worries you. You have declared yourself to me already. I will pay the priest to post the banns after the nuptials. We would not be the first.”
It was all too much. Phoebe drew away, laughing harshly. “Marry you? You want me to marryyou?”
At that moment the door behind them opened abruptly. The footman entered first, apologetic, urgent in his manner, followed by the Duke of Durham, who looked from one figure to the other. The Duke of York held Phoebe who clawed at him and struggled to get away.
“I say! Am I interrupting something?” James asked,herJames, whose eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead as he came fully into the room.
Chapter 38
Had he not been so worried about Lucy, James would have left that very moment. Clearly, he had interrupted something intimate, a meeting that was no business of his. Not that he wasn’t aware of the scandal, but he also recognized that this was not just his host, but his patron as it were, and quite honestly, he was of no mind to get involved in the gossip of the ton.
Besides, the match was a logical one, and given that he had just overheard plans for the couple’s happy marriage, James could be forgiving of such things. “I am to wish you congratulations then,” James said with a bow to the couple, wishing that he had not been so urgent in his mission to return to Lucy and could so bow out and leave them to their celebration.
How exciting for Helena, to have two parents again…
But Miss Barlowe was throwing herself at him now, and he had no idea how to handle the imminent hysteria as she clawed at his cravat, near choking him in her desperation. “Please, my Lord Duke, Your Grace, you have to understand...”
Phoebe’s hands finally came to rest upon his lapel. James could only smile as he pushed her away, thinking how modest and retiring a maiden she was. Clearly, she had been a good influence upon Helena, a thing which spoke well of his own true love’s breeding and character. He was indulgent as he spoke, steering her back into the hands of her betrothed.
“Please, have no fear, Miss Barlowe, I will keep quiet upon the matter until the banns are posted, and nuptials are held. I am indeed happy for you and only regret that I must leave in so much haste before we can celebrate the matter properly.”
“You do not understand!” Miss Barlowe wailed, her face suffused with color as to be near purple, her fists balled at her sides.
“Hush, Phoebe, let the man speak.” Barrington steered her toward the settee, pressing upon her shoulder until she sat down hard. She glared up at him, clearly unhappy with the manhandling.
Barrington ignored the look only chuckling indulgently as he patted her shoulder. “You must leave? In this storm?” Barrington glanced uneasily at the window, though it was near frosted over, and impossible for one to be able to see outside.
James nodded, feeling the urgency stealing over him again, that had led him to burst into the room in the first place. “I must. My…my old governess. She is dying, and I must hurry to her side. Lucy is very dear to me, and I must not lose time…”
“Lucy?” Barrington drew himself up, giving James a keen look. “Indeed. I understand though it is a shameful night to be out. How might I be of assistance?”
“The boy they sent barely made it on the back of our best horse. Now, both boy and beast must rest. I would that I might borrow an animal capable of taking me through the storm. I am sorry to be in such haste—” James drew to a flustered halt, unsure as to how he could make the man see precisely how important this was.
Thankfully, Barrington was a man of discernment for he seemed to understand. “Nonsense, good Duke. Clearly, you must go. A…governess…is to be respected.”
“Governess!” Miss Barlowe threw herself back upon the settee, sending cushions flying, and began to laugh, the sound high and hysterical. “By all means, go see to your preciousLucy. May she rot in every hell.”
“Phoebe!” Barrington stared at her, absolutely aghast.
