Page 3 of Swindled By a Spinster
“There is no need to speak to Archbroke. I’ve already made up my mind.”
Finally his response drew Phoebe’s gaze.
She gave him a smile and said, “You can be awfully stubborn, but so can I.”
Torrance couldn’t help but focus on the curve of Phoebe’s lips. He’d wanted this woman for way too long, and now without the threat of being sent away to deal with another pressing matter for the Home Office, he was free to court her.
He met Phoebe’s gaze. The twinkle of determination that had prompted him to forge a partnership with her all those years ago had him tugging her into his lap.
His eyes locked with hers. “I have more pressing matters to attend to rather than traipsing about England.”
“What matters?”
“Don’t forget I am a baron, with duties I’ve neglected for years.” He wagged his brow up and down at her, knowing it would make her blush.
Tugging her hands free, she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Duties…You mean marrying and begetting an heir—that iswhat you are referring to, is it not? Did you not think to consult me on the matter before deciding…or because you are titled and a gentleman, you presumed I’d merrily agree. Have I summed up the situation correctly?” Her cheeks were flushed red, not due to his teasing but from pure unadulterated anger.
Damn. He’d made a hash of matters. She was right. He should have sought her permission to court her and not presumed she returned his regard.
Why had he not consulted her on the matter like he had in the past?
Lowering his gaze to his knees, he did the only thing he could think of—beg for mercy. “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me for being a dunderhead?”
Phoebe drummed her fingers on her arm. “Perhaps…if you agree to speak to Archbroke and inform him you made a mistake, that you wish to continue on as an agent for the Home Office.”
“It was no error on my part.” It was his turn to pin her back into her seat with a hard stare. “If asked again, I’d choose you over my post.”
She blinked rapidly, processing the situation. “You gave up your position within the agency for me?”
“Of course.”
“Are you mad?”
“No. I’m quite sane and honestly a tad offended by your reaction.” The carriage rolled to a stop. He’d run out of time. “Are you attending Lady Osbourne’s musical this eve?”
Clearly still stunned by the news, Phoebe nodded.
“Grand. Reserve a seat for me.” He crouched to exit the carriage on the opposite side from the pavement. Best to be absolutely clear. He added, “A seat next to you, my pet.”
Not willing to give her the chance to reject him, he hopped out and weaved through traffic until he reached the other side of the road.
Courting Phoebe would be his most challenging mission to date. He needed to return to his lodgings and devise an infallible scheme to convince her that spending the rest of her days as his wife would be all the adventure she needed. No more missions for king and country. No more traveling about England without him.
CHAPTER THREE
Phoebe nodded to Danny, one of the few footmen that had joined the staff the year she made her debut and remained. Danny was loyal and excelled at keeping her secrets from her parents, who were either oblivious or simply chose to pretend not to know about her escapades.
Danny’s impartial features transformed the second she placed her gloved hand in his. Rarely did she accept the footman’s offer of assistance when disembarking; however, after Kilman’s declarations which had her head spinning, she didn’t trust herself not to fall flat on her face. Feet firmly planted, she quickly withdrew her hand, clasped her hands behind her back, and inhaled deeply.
“Is something amiss, my lady?”
She blinked at her maid, standing before her. “No, but I think a respite is in order before getting ready for the evening.”
Letty glanced over at Danny and then back at Phoebe. “A respite? In the three years I’ve been in your employ, ye’ve never taken more than a minute to rest.” Her maid tugged off her glove and raised the back of her hand to Phoebe’s forehead. “Yer a tad warm, but ye don’t have a fever.”
Her tenacious maid, appointed by the Home Office, rarely let matters go. Phoebe needed to come up with some mundane excuse that the girl would believe. Taking full advantage of the knowledge that the girl gave her pitiful looks every time someone referred to Phoebe as long in the tooth or well established upon the shelf, Phoebe said, “Now that I’m officially aspinster, mayhap it’s time I slow down a bit.”
“Bah. Yer not being married was by choice, not due to a lack of interest from gentlemen. Ye have dedicated yer life to servin’ yer country, no shame in that.”
