Chapter 10
No. 15
An Everton lady will never bring her personal issues to the client’s attention.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
Having the impossible had been Markus’s goal for as long as he could remember. He’d wanted parents who were loving and kind. Of course, that wish was out of his control. He had wanted Emma and had done everything in his power to win her. No man could have wooed a lady more devoutly.
Wanting Phoebe was out of the question and yet he stood in his study looking through tomes of poetry and verse in search of the perfect remedy to insomnia. A few weeks ago, a nice brandy or ten would have been the thing he reached for, and though he wanted one badly, he refrained and searched the shelves.
She cleared her throat, producing the most delicate sound.
Turning, his heart leapt in his chest. She appeared iridescent in her white nightclothes with a pale blue blanket wrapped around her. In the lantern-lit study, her state of undress was more intimate than it had been in the kitchen. “You came.”
“Foolish, I know, but I could not sleep.” She tugged her blanket tighter around her shoulders and stepped inside.
“I trust you had no more issues with Mr. Blunt today?” His hand rested on the binding of a book and he pulled it down.
Phoebe flounced down onto the couch at the far end of the study and pulled her feet under the blanket. “Mr. Blunt said Ford did not give him permission to court me and he avoided me today. Perhaps that will be the end of his courting.”
“I am sorry.”
“Why?”
“I thought you liked Mr. Blunt.” He sat next to her, placing the book on the cushion between them.
She shrugged. “He is a man from a good family and has a steady income. I suppose he would suit, and my mother would be happy to see me married to anyone at this point.”
“What does Honoria have to say on the matter?” Suddenly, his secretary was the most abhorrent man he’d ever known.
“I do not think she is very fond of Mr. Blunt. Though I cannot say why.”
The way she scrunched her nose when she was thinking warmed him like nothing else. “You did not say if you are upset by the idea of the loss of his affection.”
“Did I not?” Plucking at the edge of the blanket, she let the cloth relax, revealing the swell of her breasts above the neckline of her nightgown.
Markus swallowed the lump in his throat. “No. You only told me how everyone else might feel.”
She shrugged. “I suppose that is because I have little feeling on the subject. That is probably not a good way to think of a prospective suitor.”
“Probably not,” he agreed, but joy swamped him from head to toe.
“Have you found something boring enough to put us to sleep?” She nodded toward the book.
Holding it up he read the title. “Shakespeare’s Sonnets. Not really for sleeping but it’s better than eating every sweet in the kitchen.”
She leaned in closer when he opened the book. “Will you read aloud to me, Markus?”
“Sit closer, so if you get tired you might rest your head on my shoulder.” A silly ploy, but it worked and soon the heat of her body pressed against his side. It was a tiny bit of heaven to have her close with the warm clean scent of her filling him. He read:
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
Never in his life had he read a poem and had the words rivet him so directly. He’d chosen randomly when he opened the book, yet Sonnet 116 fell from his lips as if it had been written just for them.
Her breath was quick and shallow and she turned up her chin to meet his gaze. “That was not boring.”
No man could resist such temptation. “Not boring. I know you think this is wrong, but I would like to kiss you now, Phoebe.”
“I would like for you to kiss me, Markus.”
Pushing the book aside, he captured her lips with his. Soft breath escaped her mouth as she gasped. When she breathed out, he breathed in as if they were one entity. He found the edge of the blanket and slipped his hands beneath where the soft cotton gown was the only separation between his fingers and her sweet flesh. “Phoebe.”
She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer, then wrapped her arm around his neck while the other caressed his back.
Everything he wanted pulsed in his arms but was still out of reach. “I want you, Phoebe.”
Gasping, she pushed away. “Markus, this is not right. Emma was my closest friend.”
Easing his hold, he did not relinquish her completely. “I know that, but my feelings are what they are.”
“I am not worthy of you. I am disowned by my family. Even with all your troubles you must know that attaching yourself to me would be scandalous. Nothing about this is appropriate. All we can ever be is friends.” She toyed with the tie at the top of his blouse and her breath tickled his neck.
“You are so far superior to me, it does not bare mentioning. Let society be dammed, I need you.”
When she drew in a long breath her breasts pressed tight to his chest. Delicious desire curled in his groin, but he made no move to take what he wanted most in the world. Their future had to be Phoebe’s decision. Any other way would always leave doubts between them.
She pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “Must we talk of this, Markus? My mind is so jumbled with a million things and confused by lack of sleep. Would it be too much to ask that we just rest here?”
Holding her in his arms for a few hours was much more than he’d hoped for when he asked her to meet him. A few minutes of her time was all he had expected. The kiss still left its wondrous impression on his heart and her heat still warmed his soul. “I would be honored to hold you while you sleep.”
Her lids fluttered closed and her muscles eased against him.
Leaning back, he let her body form to his and brushed the hair away from her cheek before he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
* * * *
“I have no idea what to say,” Honoria said.
It ripped him from sleep. Sun shone through the windows, blinding him for several beats.
She turned and shut the study door.
“Honoria, I can explain.” Phoebe pushed against his chest to disengage herself from his embrace.
The loss was keen but unavoidable. “Perhaps I should explain, my lady.”
“We were only sleeping. Nothing happened.” Panic laced Phoebe’s words.
Honoria crossed her arms over her chest. “Only sleeping? Nothing happened? This is not how you were raised, Phoebe Hallsmith. Women of good standing do not ‘sleep’ with men. What were you thinking?”
Rising, Phoebe hung her head. “That I would do anything for a good night’s sleep.”
Looking from one to the other, Honoria shook her head. Her gaze settled on Markus “I have clearly failed in my duties as a chaperon, but what do you intend to do about it, my lord?”
He rubbed his eyes. Had nothing happened? For him, quite a lot had changed in the last eight hours. Falling asleep with Phoebe in his arms had been one of the most wonderful moments in his life, but for her it had only meant a restful sleep. “I am prepared to make an offer if Miss Hallsmith wishes it.”
Phoebe spun, eyes wide and arms clutching her blue blanket. “Offer. You would marry me because we were caught asleep in the study?”
“It is the right thing to do. Despite what you might think of me, I am a gentleman.” It wasn’t exactly the romantic proposal a woman wishes for. In fact, it was even disappointing from his perspective. Still, the idea of waking to Phoebe in his arms every day for the rest of his life filled him with more joy than he should ever expect. Guilt hovered over him.
Phoebe threw her hands up. “The right thing to do? This is not a reason to marry a person, and I will not be bullied into a marriage because I had not slept in weeks and dozed off in the study.”
After Phoebe had fled the room, Honoria once again closed the door. “Do you love Miss Hallsmith?”
It was rude to sit in the presence of a standing woman, but Markus sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. “I do not know. She makes me feel, and I did not think that would ever be possible again.”
Skirts flouncing about her legs, Honoria paced the study with one hand on her chin. “If you want her, you will have to win her, my lord. I will not pressure her about this incident. As long as the details remain a secret between the three of us, you will not be forced to marry her. It is not my intention to make either of you unhappy.” She sat across from him on a wooden bench between the bookcases.
“Marrying Phoebe would not make me unhappy, but as you saw, she is not as keen on the idea.” Between the guilt over his feelings for Phoebe and her rejection, Markus longed for a large draft of brandy.
“She is confused. Her time in Scotland taught her that men, even men who profess love, cannot be trusted.”
“Phoebe honored me with some of what happened between her and Mr. Durnst.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Honoria said, “Did she?”
“It seems we both have trouble sleeping and have a habit of stealing off to the kitchen for a late-night snack. She trusted me with a few details of her engagement to that imbecile.”
Honoria stood. “You should marry her, my lord. I cannot make her see that. Phoebe has the kindest heart in all the world, but she rarely affects her kindness on herself. She is stubborn and suspicious of anything that might bring her happiness. I will do what I can, but it will be up to you to win her.”
Heart pounding, he rose. “Forgive me, Lady Chervil, but I am surprised by your approval. I am not exactly what most women would want in a husband. Not even the marriage mart mommas would advocate my bid for one of their daughters.”
She laughed, actually gave a hearty guffaw. “You are a man with many flaws and a sad past.” She shrugged and sighed. “Still, Phoebe must love you or she would not have slept here or trusted you with her secrets. Even if she does not yet know her own feelings, I have known her long enough to see that she is not given to emotional disclosure.”
Love him? It was impossible. How could anyone love the man he’d become? No, not become, but revealed. His father had been lurking inside him for his entire life and losing Emma freed the bastard. “I am sure you are mistaken, my lady. Phoebe is far too smart to ever harbor deep feelings for a man like me.”
“One would think.” She chortled as she left the room.
He needed a bath and a long think.
Blakely waited, standing like a statue, in the master’s chambers as if he had never been away. His long pale face was a welcome sight. “My lord, you look refreshed.”
“I finally got a good night’s sleep. Would you arrange a bath and keep anyone who might need me away for an hour or so, Blakely?”
“Of course, my lord. Watson tells me Mr. Blunt has already been asking for you this morning. He tried to enter the study but was sent away.”
The magnitude of the disaster that had been averted sent a shiver up Markus’s spine. He adored the idea of Phoebe being his, but not like that. Not forced to marry because an idiot couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Markus was sure Blunt was such an idiot. It might be time to find a new secretary. “It is good to have you back.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
* * * *
Despite a thorough search of all the rooms in the house where he usually found Phoebe, he did not find her. In the nursery, Arwen played patty-cake with Elizabeth and both smiled up at him when he poked his head in.
The game stopped and Elizabeth ran toward him with her arms up for lifting.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
She patted his cheek and grinned at him.
“I did too. Perhaps we can have a ride in the country this afternoon. The weather is growing cold, and we will not get many more days to ride.”
Clapping, she planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
Arwen crossed to them. “Your father has to work this morning, Miss. Come, we’ll get you into something warm and go for a walk in the garden.”
He relinquished Elizabeth into Arwen’s care. “Where is Miss Hallsmith?
“She has a visitor.” Arwen frowned.
“Is it Lord Thornbury?” What bad timing if Phoebe’s eldest brother had arrived. Tugging on his jacket, he was ready to go do battle at Phoebe’s side.
“No, my lord. Mr. Gavin Durnst has come all the way from Scotland, and it seems when he did not find the miss at her family home last night, he came here first thing this morning.”
The news shook Markus in his boots. Forcing himself to use a reasonable voice, he asked, “Where are they?”
“In the back parlor, my lord.”
It took all his will to calmly bid Elizabeth and Arwen goodbye before he rushed downstairs to the back parlor. Standing outside the door, he breathed in and let it out slowly. His jealousy would not go over well. Yes, it was jealousy, which he had no right to. Despite their friendship and night in the study, Phoebe did not belong to him. She had made it clear that she would leave when her assignment was finished, and after that, it was unlikely their paths would cross again. It had only been his manipulation and the terribly inept governess that kept her at Rosefield.
Pulling the door open, he stifled the urge to act the jealous lover.
Phoebe stared at him with wide eyes while her visitor narrowed his. Gavin Durnst was better looking than Markus had hoped. Blond curls fell to his shoulders, and Markus longed to blacken both of his sharp blue eyes.
“Miss Hallsmith, I heard you had company. I hope I am not intruding.” Markus forced a smile and stepped inside.
Light shone in the tall windows from the garden. Phoebe’s pale blue dress matched the winter sky. She stood, as did Durnst. “My lord, this is Mr. Gavin Durnst, an acquaintance from Scotland.”
Durnst bowed before stepping closer and offering his hand. “More than an acquaintance. Miss Hallsmith and I were betrothed.”
The short, brisk shake was more than Markus cared for. “Yet the lady described you as such and I shall take her at her word. Besides, if you were betrothed, would you not still be?”
The question took Durnst back a step. “I—we…had a misunderstanding, which I hope to rectify. It is the reason I have come all this way. I stopped at the Hallsmith estate and was horrified to hear that my dear Phoebe had taken a position of service.”
“Horrified, really.” Bashing Durnst over the head with the fireplace poker flashed through Markus’s mind.
Phoebe sat. “I was explaining to Mr. Durnst that I am not forced to work for the Everton Domestic Society. It was my choice to go and I have no intention of quitting the post.”
The band strangling Markus’s heart eased an inch. “I see.”
Crossing his arms, Durnst shot Phoebe a scathing look before settling his gaze on Markus. “I have, of course, ordered Miss Hallsmith back to her family’s home until such time as I can have a contract drawn up for our renewed engagement.”
Markus strode to the settee and sat next to Phoebe. He stretched his legs out and forced his expression to be mild. “Let me see if I understand you correctly, Mr. Durnst. You broke off an engagement with Miss Hallsmith, she has moved on with her life, and now you find you cannot live without her?”
“That is correct, my lord. I realize I made a grave mistake.” Durnst sat in the wingback chair, his back straight as a pole.
“What was the catalyst for this realization?” Markus had seen the type before. Pretty, dim, and ruthless. He would have hated Gavin Durnst even if his jealousy had not forced the disgust.
“I do not know what you mean. I am here because my feelings for Miss Hallsmith have not altered in her absence and I mean to have her as my wife.”
Markus leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Miss Hallsmith, is that what you wish as well?”
“Of course not. I have no intention of marrying him.”
Durnst stood and took two steps forward so that he towered over Phoebe. “I have the wishes of your family on my side, Phoebe. You will do as your brother and mother wish or you will come to no good.”
Phoebe leaned back. Her eyebrow lifted. “What else have you been promised by my brother Ford? Was a dowry offered? Land? Why am I suddenly the object of your affection again when you thought me a cold fish when you ended our arrangement in Scotland?”
Neck on fire, it was becoming impossible for Markus to hold his temper. “I leave it to the lady, but in my mind, you should leave this house, Mr. Durnst. It seems your attentions are not wanted.”
Cool demeanor slipping, Durnst’s face turned nearly purple. “You have no choice but to marry me. Ford is the head of your family and so what if he sweetened the pot with a few things? You did not dispute the inclusion of your dowry when you agreed to marry me before.”
Phoebe opened her mouth.
The door burst open and Jared Blunt stumbled through. “Stop. Miss Hallsmith is going to marry me.”
“No, I most certainly am not.” Phoebe stood.
The entire scene was becoming comical, though Phoebe did not look amused. Gavin and Jared stood nose-to-nose arguing over which of them would marry Phoebe, and her face was bright red. Her hands fisted, and it was possible she would punch one or both of them.
Markus closed his eyes and pushed down his jealousy. “Enough!” Rising to his feet, Markus had to bite his tongue for a full beat. “If you gentlemen wish to fight over a woman who just said she will not marry either of you, you can do so elsewhere. Miss Hallsmith works for me and is therefore under my protection until such time as she decides to leave Rosefield. Until that time, Mr. Durnst, you will refrain from visiting, and Mr. Blunt, you will limit your time at Rosefield to working with me. If Miss Hallsmith wishes to see you, she will alert you and advise me of her decision. Have I made myself clear?”
“Perfectly clear, my lord.” Blunt hung his head and spoke to the carpet.
Durnst met Markus’s gaze. “I understand, my lord. I intend to seek satisfaction with Lord Thornbury, and we shall see what he says.”
“You may do as you please, Sir. As long as you do it elsewhere.”
A growl issued from Phoebe. It was the most unladylike sound and she stomped her foot. “I have had enough of all of you telling me what I will or won’t do. All three of you are on my last nerve. I joined the Everton Domestic Society because of men like you trying to push me around and decide my life for me.”
Markus couldn’t fathom why she lumped him in with the other two. He only sent them away. Before he could ask, she hurried out of the parlor.
“I hadn’t realized Miss Hallsmith had such a temper,” Blunt said.
“I’ve seen worse. It’s the red hair.” Durnst shook his head and took up his hat and gloves from the table.
Knuckles white from holding back, Markus narrowed his gaze on the two idiots. “You should both leave now. I do not care for the way you spoke to or about Miss Hallsmith.”
Blunt stepped toward the door, but Durnst came closer. “What is your interest in the lady, my lord? You seem far too involved for her to just be someone in your employ.”
“I do not care for your tone, Durnst.”
“I do not care for my fiancée living under the same roof with another man.” The purple had returned to his face and he stepped closer.
Markus longed to break his perfect nose, but Durnst had more claim to Phoebe than Markus had. It was maddening and his own fault. “I do not decide where the lady works. She has an employer and a chaperon. However, as long as she is in this house, I will not have her harassed by either of you. Get out before I have you tossed out.”
The rise in his voice did the trick and both men took their leave.