Chapter Seven
All is well between Lord B~ and Lady P.W. One expects to hear news of a betrothal soon!
Phoebe and her friends, Marjorie and Clara, paused in front of the haberdasher’s shop and eyed the fabric displayed within. One of the bolts caught her eye. “Oh, my.”
“Which one?” Marjorie asked. “The sprigged rose?”
“That red is divine!” Clara sighed. “I do wish red didn’t make me look so sallow.”
“That dark green would make a charming pelisse for you, though,” Phoebe said.
Before she could suggest they go inside, Lord Basingstoke called to them from down the street.
“Lady Phoebe, ladies, it’s a beautiful day for a stroll, isn’t it?”
She spun to see him approach with the Duke of Thornton. “Your Grace, my lord, how good to see you. We were deciding whether or not to shop for fabric.”
Basingstoke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let us keep you from such a delightful pastime.”
Marjorie took a step away from the window. “We may shop anytime we wish.” She nudged Phoebe’s elbow.
“Yes,” Lady Clara jumped in, clearly understanding Marjorie’s ploy. “Anytime.”
Phoebe took the hint. “We were about to continue on our way.”
“Will you allow us to join you?” Lord Basingstoke approached, and Thornton followed.
“Delighted,” Marjorie said. “Your Grace, I believe you and my husband were recently discussing a horse.”
“Yes. Yes, we were.” He passed Basingstoke to walk with Marjorie and Clara.
Phoebe watched them move away, then turned to Basingstoke and smiled. “I’m happy to see you.”
“Happy doesn’t fully express what I feel.”
They walked slowly behind their friends with just enough distance that their conversation could be almost private. Phoebe toyed with the ribbons on her reticule, inexplicably nervous to be so near him again. “My friends and I needed a break from morning calls. I had no idea it would lead to seeing you. Are you also shopping?”
“I hadn’t intended to, but while at Tattersall’s I found a cabriolet I had to have. I paid a fair price for it. Luckily the other bidders realized how determined I was to have it, and they stopped bidding.”
“How delightful.” She didn’t care one way or another about carriages and the lot. Men could carry on about them like…well, like she and her friends did over fashion, fabrics and trims.
“I shall take you on a drive later in the week.”
Even more delightful. But how was she to convince Mama to allow it? And keep Father from knowing about it?
He seemed to understand, or anticipate, her concern. “I’ll call on you at home a few times before then. Your mother seems to object to me less of late.”
“I hope she’s been taking to heart what I tell her about you.” Mama hadn’t mentioned him that morning, which Phoebe preferred to think was an improvement. Likely, nothing new had happened for her to complain about.
“You’ve been talking about me? All good, I hope.” He winked.
Phoebe’s heart tumbled, stopped a moment, and then raced on. That wink was like a physical touch. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. “Is there anything else I might relate to her?”
“Not if you wish her to look kindly on me.”
Now her heart stopped cold. What did he mean? Was there some new scandal marking his good name?
“I jest, dear girl,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. It was in rather poor taste, I’ll admit. Forgive me. Look, we’re lagging behind the others. We’d best catch up.”
Thornton turned at the sound of their approaching footsteps. “Lady Phoebe, did he tell you of his purchase? I don’t know what the man was thinking. Ghastly shade of green, and those wheels! Brighter than the sun, I tell you. So unlike him. One would think he was trying to please a lady—if one didn’t know him better.”
The cabriolet was for her? Or simply to delight her when they drove about? “It sounds charming. And yes, he has promised me a ride soon.”
With a brief nod, Thornton went back to speaking to the women on either side of him.
“It’s not ghastly,” Basingstoke said softly. “The green.”
“I never suspected it could be. I’ve seen nothing to dissuade me you have excellent taste.”
His shoulders relaxed noticeably. “We’re drawing near your home. I should leave you before anyone in your household spies us. I will see you this evening, as we discussed?”
“Of course.”
He bowed, called to the duke, and the men turned at the corner. Phoebe and her friends continued on.
Clara watched them walk away. “You are so lucky, Phoebe, to have secured the love of such a handsome man. Perhaps you could suggest his friend might wish to know me better?”
Marjorie laughed and shook her head. “As if anyone could convince Thornton what his own feelings are. You’d better set your sights elsewhere.”
Phoebe held her tongue. No one could have imagined how she and Basingstoke came to fall in love, and look where they were now. It never hurt to dream.
Then he failed to attend the agreed-upon ball.