Chapter Thirteen
It has happened. Lord B~ has proposed to Lady P.W. and she has accepted.
As Phoebe sat in the morning room reading the newspaper, Mama peered over her shoulder. “Daughter, you aren’t reading that gossip column again, are you? Will you never learn?”
“I now know for certain there’s no truth in anything written here, so where’s the harm?” This morning, several of the names—or initials, since names weren’t mentioned—were unfamiliar, which reduced some of the fun. Then she saw mention of Lord B~.
As rumor has it, love is very complicated for Lord B~. His inamorata, and mother of his child, is well known to be Mrs. M. S-R. What hasn’t been told is that Mrs. S-R. is the cousin of Lady P.W., whom he’s set to marry.
Phoebe shoved the paper aside. “Now they’ve gone too far. They claim Ben’s mother is my cousin. If that were true, you would have told me that night he first asked me to dance.”
“You see? You must stop reading that column. Any column of the sort. Now you have even more distress.”
“I don’t have a cousin with the initials S-W., so the point is moot. Isn’t it?” When Mama didn’t respond, Phoebe turned to face her.
Mama sat in her favorite chair, picked up her needlepoint, and set it on her lap. She didn’t take up the needle, but instead simply smoothed the canvas. At least, she spoke. “Smythe-Richards is the name she began to use after Ben was born.”
Merciful heavens, it was true. Basingstoke and her cousin were lovers. A bit of gossip that had appeared several times came to mind. “You never thought I should know? Does she look like me?”
Frowning, Mama studied Phoebe. “I suppose so. Her coloring is similar, as is her height. Why do you ask?”
“She was seen leaving his home late at night.”
“That’s odd. Are you certain?”
“Mrs. Crookshank suggested I was seen, but since I know I was never there, she must have gone to him there, instead of wherever they usually met.”
Mama shook her head. “That can’t be right. Minnie’s relationship was with the late earl. Your Basingstoke’s father.”
Those words should have struck her like a blow of shock and disgust, but she felt numb, incapable of feeling any more pain. “Apparently he fell for her charms as well. He must have. The proof is in his son.”
“No, no. You have that wrong. Ben is his brother.”
His brother? Impossible. “Why didn’t he make it known from the start? Why endure all that gossip when a statement of fact could end it? It makes no sense, Mama.”
“Your earl is a very private man You can’t assume he’d speak out about any part of his life, much less something as innocent as a child.”
Ben was his brother. “He should have told me.”
As the truth of that sank in, the other side of this news became glaringly obvious. “You never mentioned I had a cousin Minnie.”
“We could hardly admit to her.”
“She couldn’t have been a courtesan her entire life. Why did you say nothing while I was growing up? Why haven’t I met her?”
“Her mother was kept by a viscount who won’t be named. There’s nothing to be gained from knowing his name. This man was Minnie’s father. So you see, we couldn’t speak of Minnie or her mother.”
Phoebe let that news sink in. There were so many new balls to juggle, she had no idea how to juggle them all. Basingstoke’s illegitimate brother. Phoebe’s illegitimate cousin. How many more skeletons lurked in the closets of the two families?
“Benjamin is my cousin.”
“Yes, dear. I understand he’s a delightful boy.”
“He is. You’ve never met him?”
“I couldn’t draw attention to my connection to the child without tainting your name. I was protecting you.”
That’s what mothers did. They shielded their children from any and all potential threat to their well-being. Fathers did so, too, and older brothers. Basingstoke clearly loved Ben and he was willing to brave the gossip that came from taking his brother out in public.
What a match they were, she and Basingstoke. Innocent victims to scandal brought on by family. She thought she knew him so well, but clearly, she didn’t. Oh, she knew his character, the essence of him that told her what he would or wouldn’t do…at least, when she trusted herself to believe it. But their pasts, their histories, were something they needed to discuss, if nothing more than to prevent misunderstandings such as this.
Misunderstandings that would cause either of them to doubt the other. Life held too many pitfalls as it was; adding the potential for more was ridiculous to the extreme.
“Mama, may I send for Basingstoke? I need to talk to him.”
“Of course. Write your note and one of the footmen can deliver it.”
“Thank you.” Phoebe went upstairs to write him, trying to formulate her message as she went. There was so much to say, so many versions of “I’m sorry” to impart. Even if she spent a lifetime apologizing, she could never atone for the ugliness she’d thought Basingstoke was capable of. He deserved so much better than her. All she could do was to strive to be the kind of wife he deserved.
***
When Basingstoke received Phoebe’s note asking him to call, he assumed she had more wedding details to discuss. He never imagined there were so many decisions to be made. What he truly didn’t understand is why they couldn’t be made without his input. Men took care of obtaining the license, securing the preferred time at the church, and all the financial dealings with the bride’s father. They didn’t care about anything more.
Yet he couldn’t tell Phoebe that.
After being shown into the drawing room, Basingstoke watched the traffic pass by the window while he waited.
Phoebe came in, but her expression was unreadable. Where was the overflowing joy she should have?
“You look well, my dear. Have I told you today how much I love you?”
Her cheeks pinkened and she glanced at the open door. “I love you, too. And I must apologize once more.”
“Relieve yourself on that thought. We’ve said all that’s needed. Our misunderstandings are in the past.”
“Now they are, yes. Mama told me about Minnie, and I must know something. It won’t change how I feel about you, but I can’t put it out of my thoughts until I know. Is Minnie the one who was seen leaving your home several times?”
That’s what concerned her? After all they’d been through, she still didn’t trust him? The thought sliced deep inside him. “I’ve never had that woman in my home. During one of the times Crookshank mentioned it, I was in the country making arrangements for Ben to move there. Another time I told you I was at my club.”
A thought occurred to him. “I’d brought Ben to my home to stay until I can take him to the country. Maybe Minnie had visited him on those nights she was seen.”
Phoebe’s face brightened. “Ben will live with you?”
“Nearby. I purchased a cottage for Ben and a tutor, and will enroll him in Harrow when he’s of age.”
“You are such a loving man.” She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Such a good man. I’m so lucky to have your love.”
“I’m the lucky one, Phoebe. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your affections, but I will strive to be worthy of it the rest of my days.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I do wish you’d trusted me with knowing Ben is your brother, not your son.”
“Would it have changed anything between us?”
“No. It might have relieved some of my… Hmm. My anxieties are my own to relieve, they’re not your responsibility. But can you understand how confusing it was to learn Ben was your brother, despite what the gossips claim? I never heard a hint you shared a father. And then to discover Minnie is my cousin—”
Grasping her shoulders, Basingstoke pushed her away so he could look into her eyes. “Your cousin?”
“You didn’t know, either?”
“I know nothing more about her than she was my father’s mistress. I never cared to learn more. It was due to her station, you understand. I had nothing against her personally. She’s a kind person and a loving mother.”
“Our lives are permanently tangled together, even before we marry.”
Basingstoke noticed a gleam in her eye and feared there might be more. “There’s nothing else I should know, is there? I can’t imagine any long-lost relatives reappearing to cause us stress.”
“If anyone else attempts to come between us, they’ll face a battle they can’t imagine. Nothing will stop me from loving you. Forever.”
“Forever. Such a lovely word. I shall have it engraved on the inside of your wedding band.”
She smiled and held him tightly.
He returned the hug. Forever. It was such an intangible word, until one spoke of love. Never-ending, eternal, lasting long beyond the end of their lives. “Forever. Yes, I shall love you until then.”
Thoughts of wedding plans hovered in the back of his mind, but he no longer dreaded helping make decisions. These were the first of many to be decided upon by them both. He was a lucky man to be allowed such tasks with Phoebe.
Yes, he was besotted. Yes, he was a ninny, and he’d never admit it to his friends. But if this was what it was to love, he welcomed the weakness. Phoebe was the most important thing in his life, and he’d spend the rest of his days thanking her for allowing him to love her.
Love. Forever. Always. Three words that were so alien to him just months ago, and now they were a permanent, important, part of his vocabulary. As was one other word. “Wife. That was always such a serviceable word to me, a necessary position to fill in the course of fulfilling my duties to the earldom.”
“That’s what I am? An employee?” She didn’t pull away, and her voice held restrained laughter.
“No, nothing like it. I was reflecting on how words become clearer when they’re experienced rather than spoken.”
“I see. Like husband. And one day, baby.”
His heart swelled so much he thought it might explode. “Yes. Family, too. For the first time, these words are so beautiful. And I get to share them with you.”
Basingstoke couldn’t be any more blessed. And it was all due to a beautiful minx who locked her hazel eyes on him across a ballroom and never let him go. He tightened his arms around her once again. “I shall never let you go.”