Chapter Nine
Has there been a falling out between Lord B~ and Lady P.W.? Lord B.~ hasn’t graced the ballrooms of any of the recent assemblies. Has Lady P.W. come to her senses at last and decided upon a different young man?
Watching his much-younger brother enjoy a pineapple ice at Gunther’s wasn’t enough to put out the fire burning inside Basingstoke at Lady Phoebe’s betrayal. She’d fooled him all this time. Made him believe she wasn’t like the others where his brother was concerned. He’d only been away for a few days…was she angry at him for not telling her he was leaving? Or had her true feelings finally shown through?
The answer was clear. She hadn’t chastised her companions when they spoke so cruelly about Ben. The boy wasn’t the only child in London to be born outside marriage, nor was he the first not to be acknowledged by his father. Their father.
The late earl had died while Benjamin was still at his mother’s breast, so perhaps the lack of inclusion in his will was merely an oversight. Perhaps Father would have shown affection for his son.
Perhaps, but unlikely.
Their father wasn’t an affectionate man. He’d never spoken with pride about his elder son, never bragged about Basingstoke’s accomplishments.
In his own childhood, Basingstoke hadn’t noticed anything amiss in their relationship until he spent school holidays at the homes of his classmates. The laughter there, the obvious love, warmed him at the same time it made him feel alienated. He was an outsider, no matter how welcoming his schoolmates’ families were.
He wanted something different for Benjamin. Born to his father’s courtesan, Mrs. Minnie Smythe-Richards, the boy lived with his mother in a small, but clean, apartment next door to the house where she’d plied her trade. After his father’s death, Basingstoke assured she had adequate income to support the two of them, so she needn’t return to prostitution. He felt the time with a loving mother would give his brother a strong foundation upon which to build a life.
Now he was of age for schooling, so Basingstoke had moved Ben into his town home in preparation for living in the country under the tutelage of the man he’d hired while he was away. He was not going to let their father’s philandering scar his brother for life, and the first step involved distancing him from his mother. She’d complained at first, but an increase to her income had quieted her.
Five years ago, when Basingstoke had begun to call upon Benjamin, the rumors had started. No one knew of Ben’s relationship to the late earl, so they naturally assumed he was Basingstoke’s son.
Basingstoke wouldn’t have been the first peer in his early twenties to have an illegitimate child, but that was just the sort of situation gossips sought to add to their repertoire.
And he didn’t care.
His true friends knew him, and he’d always been sure that somewhere there was a woman who’d love him in spite of the scandal that wasn’t even his own.
Seeing a dribble of raspberry ice about to drip on Ben’s shirt, Basingstoke reached for his handkerchief. “You don’t want to ruin that clean, white shirt.”
“Mama never buys me ices,” the boy said. “Are we going back to the mena-grie?”
“Is that what you want to do?” Enough of Basingstoke’s anger had subsided, and he was reasonably certain Lady Phoebe and her friends would have left by now, so he felt safe in returning.
“Yes!”
“Well, then, let’s be off.”
When they arrived at the menagerie, he paid the admittance fee again and led Ben inside. “Where shall we begin?”
“The elephant!” The boy bounced with excitement and tugged on Basingstoke’s arm. “Let’s go!”
Chuckling, Basingstoke followed his little brother. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be there when we get there.”
“But I want to see him. Come on.” He added his other hand to the tugging and leaned back for more leverage.
“I’m coming.”
No one stood near the elephant’s enclosure, so they could watch without being rushed to move on. Birds hopped about on the stone floor, and one rode on the animal’s hip. With his trunk swishing slowly side-to-side and his eyes closed, the elephant looked to be napping.
“He’s sleeping. Isn’t it time for you to do the same?” Basingstoke asked his little brother.
He received a glare in return. “I’m not a baby.”
“Well, then, let’s move on.” He didn’t pay much attention to which animals they saw. The sound of Ben’s excited chatter was enough to prove how much fun he was having. Basingstoke also had fun but would have enjoyed himself more had he been able to spend the time with Lady Phoebe at his side.
The more fool he. Even as angry as he was at her inaction when her friends spoke ill about Ben, he couldn’t put her out of his thoughts. Out of his plans for his future.
About half an hour later, he saw her standing with one of her friends in front of the eagle’s cage. Checking about, he didn’t see the rest of their party.
“Good afternoon, ladies. It’s lovely weather, isn’t it?”
Lady Phoebe spun around and smiled when she met his gaze, her eyes wide with surprise and what he hoped was happiness. “Quite lovely.”
Her friend, whom he now recognized as Lady Clara Swinton, eyed him before giving Lady Phoebe a side glance. She said nothing.
“Your friends aren’t with you?” he asked.
Lady Phoebe shook her head. “We weren’t ready to leave when they were.”
“Neither was Ben. He insisted we return.” And Basingstoke was so glad he had. He winked at the beautiful woman in front of him. “Have they added any new exhibits while we were away?”
“I’m not sure. Shall we explore to find out?” Lady Phoebe glanced at Lady Clara, who nodded in spite of her eyebrows being drawn together.
“Come, Ben,” he said.
“I feel I must apologize for our companions earlier,” Lady Phoebe said.
Unable to meet her gaze, he watched a mother and little girl peering at the leopards. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard.”
“It was a disgusting thing to say. I’m embarrassed to call them friends.”
“Phoebe,” Lady Clara said, putting a hand on her arm, “let’s not discuss them.”
Lady Phoebe straightened her shoulders and held her head high. “You’re right, they don’t deserve our time. Benjamin, what’s your favorite animal?”
“The lion. Rarrr!” He mouthed a huge roar and shook his head hard. “He’s big, and strong, and no one wants to fight him.”
“He is rather fierce, isn’t he?” she agreed.
Watching her talk to the child warmed him. As he’d initially suspected, she didn’t let the fact of his birth keep her from treating him as an equal. He lost himself in the pleasure he felt. “The lion isn’t fierce. He has a severe case of biliousness and has no desire to hide his discomfort.”
The ladies turned back and stared with wide eyes before breaking into laughter.
“Really, Lord Basingstoke, that’s a bit much,” Lady Clara chided as she fought to control her laughter. Her blue eyes sparkled.
“It’s better than comparing them to the ton,” Lady Phoebe said. “Well, more proper, I supposed, but not as funny.”
Feeling quite pleased with himself, he tipped his hat. He was even more of a ninny than he’d realized, taking joy in her praise, weak though it was. “Well, then. You see Ben, we mustn’t discuss our physical complaints, nor poke fun at Polite Society. I fear that leaves us with the weather.”
Raising a hand to shade her eyes, Lady Phoebe looked skyward. “It’s such a beautiful day, don’t you think, Ben? Not a cloud in the sky.”
“It’s blue.” The boy clearly had no interest in the weather. He peered up at Basingstoke. “Can we feed the monkeys, now? I’m bored.”
Lady Phoebe quickly apologized. “We didn’t mean to keep you from enjoying your afternoon. Please don’t let us delay you.”
Before she had the chance to get away, Basingstoke suggested, “We can talk while he feeds them. That is, if you ladies don’t have somewhere else to be.”
“No, we don’t.” Lady Clara replied.
“Excellent. We’ll walk to the monkey cage together.”
If Lady Phoebe didn’t beat him to it, he’d drop a hint as to where he planned to be that evening, and tell her he was prepared to speak to her father as soon as he handled a few more matters.