Page 36 of A Wallflower's Wassail Punch
“Of course not.With a beautiful, respectable wife and a generous dowry?If only I was a malleable, shy wallflower, he would be ecstatic.But I won’t be leg-shackled to a man who does not see me as enough woman to keep his bed warm.”
At the mention of “bed,” Phoebe blushed, overlaying pink to the angry spots on her cheeks.
“You do not have to marry if you do not want to.However, keep in mind that many men keep mistresses and do not consider it an affront to their wives.”Not that it mattered in the case of his only child.Andrew would find him after the holiday, perhaps invite him to Jackson’s.Afriendlyboxing match might remind him how to treat a lady.He agreed with Phoebe.Matrimony was a serious endeavor, and one which he considered should be monogamous.
“It’s insulting.”Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest and let out a deep growl.“I wanted to punch him in the nose.”
Andrew couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.
“That’s humorous?”She glared at him.“The scandal this will cause!”
“No, not your situation.But the host’s daughter, Lady Annette, was disgraced her first Season when she did exactly that.She might give you a lesson.”He saw the interest in Phoebe’s eyes.Ah, a distraction.“I’m only jesting about a lesson.”
Phoebe’s frown deepened.“It would make me feel better.”
“About that.”Andrew needed to approach this carefully.“I can understand the anger at first, but after time spent alone in a carriage with the opportunity to take in the significance of this incident… I admit I’m surprised you haven’t shed any tears.Or have you?”
Her wide-eyed look answered the question.She shook her head slowly, brows furrowed in thought.“Not one,” she admitted, looking at her father with trepidation.“What does that mean?”
“I’m not an expert, but either the sadness hasn’t quite caught up with you, or you never truly loved him.”Please let it be the latter,he thought, his heart hurting for Phoebe.
“I’m not sure.I thought I loved him.We were the perfect match.He and his family had everything on my list.How could I not love him?”
Andrew knew better than to laugh at the confusion on her face.“A list does not create love.A list is tangible where love… is ethereal.A feeling that comes over you, and you understand instinctively there is no denying it.Love is knowing that life without that person will never be as magical, as rewarding, as blissful as it might have been with them.”
Phoebe sat in silence, picking at an invisible thread on her spencer that she hadn’t yet removed in her haste.Now the tears fell.“Could I have imagined myself in love?”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” he said quietly, rising and pulling her into his embrace.She cried against his chest for a while, letting out her disappointment of a broken betrothal, her shame of not knowing her own feelings.
When the sobs subsided, he cupped her face in his hands.“Perhaps this was fate intervening, saving you from an unhappy future with an undeserving man.You are destined for real love, my sweet Phoebe.You deserve it.”
She nodded and gave him a watery smile.“I’ve made a fool of myself in front of Lord Beecham and his family.I’m so sorry.”
“They will understand if you don’t mind me sharing your story.”
“It will be all over the broadsheets by tomorrow, anyway.”Phoebe sniffed.“Please, could we go home?”
“I’m afraid we’d miss all of Christmas Day if we left now.There’s plenty of room for you here.I think you’ll like my friends.”Andrew wondered how the devil he would tell his daughter, recentlyunbetrothed, that he was now courting Nettie.A woman closer to her age than his.Would Nettie understand the postponement of their news?This was deuced bad timing.
* * *
Annette almost blewout her sigh of relief when Drew returned, a forced smile on his face.No one had died or was injured, then.He quickly explained his daughter’s unannounced arrival, then asked them not to mention his courtship with Annette right away.He hadn’t been able to tell her, considering the circumstances.
“Of course not, it would be like rubbing salt in a wound.The poor dear,” said Annette, rising from her chair.“Is she still in the parlor?I’ll have the housekeeper ready a room for her.”
“That would be much appreciated.I’ll have her trunk put in my room for now.When she’s ready, I’ll have her join us in the drawing room.”
Annette had a tray sent up to the viscount’s room, assuming Phoebe had skipped breakfast on the journey from London.An hour later, Drew and his daughter joined them.The resemblance between them was obvious.Same thick auburn hair, same deep-brown eyes.When introductions were made, both William and Mr.Wilkens seemed to brighten.They had both agreed—sight unseen—to help keep the young lady’s thoughts from her recent betrothal.The fact Miss Phoebe Weston was beautiful with a generous figure made the task more enjoyable.
The butler knocked, then entered with an envelope in his hand.He handed it to the earl, who opened it.“Seems Ambrose and Hesta won’t be joining us.It was snowing heavily this morning, and they thought it best not to travel considering Hesta’s condition.”
“What condition?”asked Annette.“Is she ill?”
“I think this is our brother’s way of telling us we shall have another niece or nephew,” said William.“Congratulations to them!”
Wassail was passed around, then the group splintered off.William engaged Miss Weston in a game of chess.Annette played a set of whist with Mr.Wilkens against Papa and Alice.Before the second set, Wilkens gave his place to Drew.Again, Alice and Papa won both games.
“If finances ever become a problem, you could easily become sharpers on the side,” said Drew as he rose from the table.“My ego calls for me to quit before I lose my dignity.”
