Chapter 12
No. 7
An Everton lady is never to lose her temper or raise her voice.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
An hour before luncheon two carriages arrived with Markus’s family. At least, part of it. The youngest, Adam, was still at school and would remain there. Father’s whereabouts was unknown, and as long as he was nowhere near Rosefield, that suited Markus.
Watson lined the staff up on both sides of the steps leading to the house, and Markus stood at the top with Phoebe and Honoria until a footman opened the carriage doors and his mother stepped out.
Markus trotted down the steps. “Hello, Mother. It is good to see you.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “You are looking better.”
“Thank you.” Markus didn’t expect a lot of affection. If Margaret ever made a display of emotion, he would have no idea how to react.
His sister, Dorothea, and her husband, Thomas, rushed over from the other carriage. Dory smiled, and her red hair blew in the breeze. “Markus, you look wonderful. Really. I am so happy you are doing well.” She wrapped him in a hug and kissed both his cheeks.
“It is good to see you too, Dory. I am sorry to have missed your performance for the prince. I shall never forgive myself.” Markus’s heart contracted and guilt swamped him. He should have been there, meant to be, but had gotten drunk and forgotten all about it.
“I suppose if you must batter yourself about it, you can, but I have already forgiven you.” Dory gazed at the house just as Arwen walked outside with Elizabeth in her arms. Her face lit up and she rushed up the steps. “Oh goodness, how she’s grown.”
Thomas shook his hand. “Markus, you all right?”
Thomas had been Markus’s friend since their school days. The two of them, Michael Collins, and Daniel Fallon had been inseparable since the first day at Eton. Markus had been too drunk to care when Dory and Tom had eloped to Scotland. His list of regrets from the last two years continued to grow.
“Better than I have been in a long time, Tom.” It was true. Even with the looming truth that Phoebe would not accept his offer of marriage and she would leave Rosefield for a life of toil in London, he still felt stronger than he had in years.
“I am happy to hear that. I have a lot to discuss with you this week. Your father has been unable or unwilling to handle his affairs, and things became perilous for a time.”
It wasn’t a surprise, but Markus still shuddered at the notion of more finances to sort out. “Let’s talk after luncheon, Tom. I am certain you have very little good news and a full stomach might soften the blow.”
Tom laughed and slapped Markus on the back. “It is good to see the gardening is being looked after again. Last time we were here things were looking bleak.”
“It was a disaster,” Mother said.
“Well, much has changed in the past few weeks. Miss Hallsmith has hired a staff and put order back in Rosefield. I suppose I should thank you for sending her, Mother.”
Already climbing the steps, Margaret ignored his gratitude and walked to Dory, who held Elizabeth. Both stopped talking at Margaret’s approach. “Do you remember me, Elizabeth? I am your grandmother.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Mother but then leaned forward and patted her cheek.
It was not exactly a smile, but Mother’s expression softened and she took Elizabeth’s little hand for a moment before sweeping inside the house.
Dory laughed. “Perhaps I should try that approach to softening Mother.”
Taking Elizabeth from Dory’s arms, Markus shook his head. “I am not certain that particular technique works for anyone but Elizabeth. She has used it on me several times and it was equally effective.” He kissed Elizabeth’s soft cheek and was rewarded with a wet kiss of the same type.
Markus turned to Phoebe. “Dory, do you know Miss Hallsmith?”
A wide grin spread across Dory’s face. “Of course, Phoebe and I have been friends for many years.”
They curtsied and hugged.
Markus finished introducing Tom and Honoria, and they all went inside to find Mother already seated in the parlor with a cup of tea and Watson assuring her ladyship that luncheon would be served promptly at one. “Mrs. Donnelly thought you might like a few moments to relax after your ride before sitting for a meal.”
Mother stared him down for several beats before nodding. “Very thoughtful.”
Watson bowed and left the room.
Sipping her tea, Mother’s gaze fell on Phoebe. “You have done wonders here, Miss Hallsmith.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Phoebe poured tea and sat in a small wooden chair off to the side.
“I had my doubts anyone could fix the mess Markus had made of his life, but things seem much under control. I am pleased.” In contrast to her words, she frowned, leaving deep crevices on her face.
Phoebe’s neck pinked. “Most of the issues could be handled by hiring staff and some organization. All the rest was entirely fixable.”
“I hope you are not leaving any time soon, Miss Hallsmith. You have done wonders and I am anxious to renew our friendship.” Dory took a biscuit from the tray.
“We are waiting on a new nanny for Elizabeth, then Lady Chervil and I will be on our way. I had a letter this morning from the agency. Miss Winnifred Cavot will be arriving in two days. The letter came with very sound references. I am certain she will be more than suitable.”
Markus’s chest tightened and he had to force his hand down to his side so as not to clutch at something. He wanted to grab Phoebe and beg her not to go. “You did not mention the letter.”
“It came only a few moments before the carriages pulled down the lane. I hoped to discuss Miss Cavot and her qualifications with you this afternoon.” She would not make eye contact with him.
“I see.”
A heavy silence shrouded the room.
“Assuming it all works out, which I’m sure it will, we will be leaving directly after she settles in.” Phoebe sipped her tea as if all was as it should be.
Markus was dying inside, but held his tongue.
* * * *
“Tell me about Miss Hallsmith.” Sitting across from Markus’s desk, Thomas stretched his long legs out in front of him.
“What do you want to know?” Markus scanned through his father’s accounts. His gut twisted at the damage to the family finances, but Thomas had kept them from debtor’s prison, and it was all recoverable.
“She is Miles Hallsmith’s sister?” Tom crossed his feet.
“Yes.”
“And she’s part of the Everton Domestic Society because she’s no longer of marriageable age?”
A fire kindled in Markus’s gut. “She is four and twenty, for goodness’ sake. Why does everyone act as if she is twice that age? And, I’ll have you know, she has had several offers of marriage just this week.”
Sitting up, Tom stared Markus down. “Have you offered for her?”
“No. Not exactly.”
Tom narrowed his eyes. “Who exactly has offered for Miss Hallsmith?”
“Jared Blunt made her an offer.”
“Your man of business? That seems an unlikely match. She is a viscount’s daughter. I cannot imagine Hallsmith would be too keen on his sister marrying a man in service.”
“I think Ford Hallsmith paid off Phoebe’s former fiancé to renew his offer, though I’m not exactly sure why. A Scottish gentleman by the name of Gavin Durnst arrived a few days ago. It shows how low Ford will stoop. It is unlikely he is thinking of his sister’s happiness. Perhaps he just wants to save face by keeping her out of the gossip.” A good bottle of brandy would make him forget all the notions running through his head. At least for a little while, but then the regret would follow. He shook it off. He wasn’t good enough for her, and she knew it. Hell, he knew it.
“I never did like Ford. Miles is the best of men, but his brother always rubbed me the wrong way. Ford loses at the card table and Miles finds ways to improve the family earnings. He has been bailing his older brother out for years. This story is not changing my mind about Ford. What do you think he’s getting from Durnst?” Tom shook his head and crossed his arms.
“He is an ass, and you’re right, he must have a reason.”
“I cannot imagine he would pay a man to marry his sister just to save face. It would need to be a lofty sum too.” Tom cringed. “Sorry, I mean no insult to Miss Hallsmith. She’s a lovely girl but steeped in scandal this last year.”
Markus wanted to throttle Ford and Thomas, but he held his temper. “Scandal caused by Ford’s public denouncement.”
“And her going into service,” Tom said.
Holding on by a thread, he gripped the edge of his chair. “Everton’s is a respectable establishment. It’s not as if she’s selling her body on the street.”
Thomas waved him off. “Of course not. Still, society can be cruel. But never mind all that. Tell me what you meant when you said you did not exactly offer for Miss Hallsmith.”
Markus put the accounting book aside. “She and I share the same difficulty sleeping. We have met by coincidence several nights in the kitchen and enjoyed conversation and whatever sweets Cook left for us. The other night we met in the library. I thought reading might help with our rest. I was right, and Lady Chervil found us asleep on the couch.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Did her ladyship demand you marry Miss Hallsmith?”
“No, but I said I would if Phoebe wished it. However, she doesn’t want me. She should find a man who will make her happy. I am too broken for a girl like her.” Saying the words aloud made them more real. Markus forced breath into his lungs.
Thomas’s scowl said it all before he spoke. “Most women like romance in a proposal, Markus. If you want this woman, you will have to do better than saying you would be obliged to marry her if she wants. She needs to know it is what you want.”
“I am in no position to take care of a wife, Tom.” More truth he hated to say.
“It seems to me Miss Hallsmith can take care of herself. But let’s put that aside for a moment. You look sober. Am I correct?” Thomas was always direct. “Last time we came you were several drinks in and the house was in shambles. Your staff was down to only a few servants and they were frantically trying to care for Elizabeth. Dory and I offered to take the child with us, but you went into a rage and the staff would not give us Elizabeth. Your sister left here in tears. Do you remember any of that?”
Closing his eyes, Markus tried to remember. “Only vaguely.”
“Yes, well, that is not surprising. Are you still drinking?”
“Not since Phoebe made me promise not to. However, I have had little sleep and more clarity than I care for.”
Thomas laughed. “I imagine the revival of Rosefield has been exhausting and trying, but if you could stay sober during all of that, surely you can continue. How is Elizabeth?”
All the heaviness lifted from his heart and was instantly replaced by the image of Elizabeth’s sweet face. “She appears happy, but still does not speak. Phoebe believes she can and chooses not to. I cannot blame her. Nothing in her life has been as it should have. Emma died, then I left or was a drunken madman. There is much to make up for.”
“I have no doubt you will do right by Elizabeth, Markus.”
“How can you be sure? I have done nothing but ruin her life so far.”
Thomas leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Because it is my old friend Markus I see before me. The man I met here last time I visited was unrecognizable. You are a good man and will make this all right.”
Was he a good man? He had not felt like one in a long time. “Thank you, Tom.”
“There is one other matter we must discuss.” All the joy washed from Thomas’s face.
“Is it about my father?” Dread and shame warred inside Markus.
“I wish I could say it is not, but he has been missing for almost a month. I went to see James Hardwig over on Bow Street and even sent out runners to find him. No one has heard from or seen his lordship.”
Standing, Markus drew a deep breath. He hated talk of his father and hated even more how like him he’d become. “I know of a few women whose houses he frequents. Perhaps he is with one of them.”
Thomas shrugged. “It is worth inquiring, but if we do not find him soon…”
He let the sentence hang, but Markus cringed at what wasn’t spoken. His father was a lecherous ne’er-do-well, but declaring him dead left an emptiness inside him. How would he face his mother? People would think he was after the man’s title. Not to mention the fact that the family would be required to mourn, and what if he showed up in a month or two? “I shall wait some time before I go to drastic measures. My father has his flaws, but I have no great desire to become the Earl of Castlereagh any time soon. I’d just as soon wait for him to show up in London, preferably alive.”
“And what of his estates and holdings?”
“I will hire a second man of business to handle those and manage it all. I have done so on the periphery for years. I will have to take a stronger role, but those holdings will be mine one day. I cannot thank you enough for managing it all in my absence, Tom. You are a good friend and a fine brother-in-law.”
“It was nothing. Even if I were not married to your sister, I would have assisted you in your time of need. I know you would do the same for me.” Thomas rose and crossed to the door. “Speaking of Dorothea, I should tell you, she is with child.”
Joy and terror crashed together. He could lose Dory the way he had lost Emma. Getting up, he stuffed his fears and crossed to Thomas with his hand outstretched. “I am very happy for you both, Tom.”
“I am certain this news comes as a shock to you. All I ask is that you try to act happy in front of Dory. She so wants you to be happy for her.” Thomas held Markus’s hand a bit longer and made eye contact.
“My fears will not cloud the fact that this is joyous news.” Even though he meant what he said, when Thomas stepped outside his office, Markus had to sit with his hands over his face for a long while. When he finally got his mind around the idea of Dory having a baby, he went and congratulated her before returning to his room to dress for supper.
* * * *
In the blue parlor, Markus had a fine pianoforte, which was rarely used. When dinner concluded, he invited everyone to the parlor for cake. “Dory, will you play? It has been ages since I have heard you.”
Dory’s smile lit the room. “For you, I will play, Markus. Tom and I just finished writing a piece for four hands. Perhaps he would join me.”
Nodding, Thomas took her hand and escorted her to the instrument. They sat and she leaned into him for an instant. It was a private moment between husband and wife and perhaps not meant for anyone to notice.
Thinking of the kiss he and Phoebe had shared, he wondered if he would ever have tiny moments like that again with another. Of course, he and Emma had hundreds of such intimacies. That was what he missed most, the little daily expressions of love.
Dory and Thomas played together as if they had been doing so all their lives. Where one phrase stopped, the next picked up in a seamless melody deepened with a soulful harmony. When they rested their fingers on the keys as if in one motion and the music stopped, Markus had to remind himself to breathe.
Shaking off the deep musing, he burst into applause, as did Phoebe and Honoria. Mother lightly patted her gloved hands.
“That was wonderful. You two play together like nothing I have ever seen.” Markus stood when Dory did.
Mother turned. “Do you play, Miss Hallsmith?”
Wide-eyed, Phoebe gaped. “I…I would be embarrassed to play after such an impressive performance. My skills are for a schoolroom, while Mr. and Mrs. Wheel are true musicians. Perhaps if I had played first, my lady.”
To her credit, Mother didn’t push the issue. Phoebe had said just the right thing so as not to offend yet also get out of what might have been an embarrassing moment. Few people played as well as his sister. Even Thomas’s skills paled in comparison.
Dory blushed when Thomas leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Play another, my dear. Perhaps the final original piece you played for the prince.”
With a nod, she settled onto the bench alone. She put her fingers on the keys, but held her breath before turning and looking Markus in the eye. “I titled this ‘Emma.’ ”
Not one note had been played, but Markus’s pulse stuttered.
When her fingers tapped out the sad melody of the first phrase, he could hardly breathe. The music highlighted the laughter and delight that Emma brought to everyone she touched. The sonata ended with pain that Markus thought only he knew. Somehow it helped hearing the piece. His sweet sister knew his suffering and had put it into the most beautiful music he had ever heard.
At the close, he wrapped Dory in his arms and pushed down his tears. “Thank you. That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. Emma would have loved it.”
“I was terrified to play it for you. I thought you might be angry.” Dory wiped her tears away.
With a kiss on her cheek, he stepped back.
Phoebe ran from the room.
Markus swallowed down his desire to call after her and turned to Dory. “I think it was a good thing that you waited to play it for me. I might not have been strong enough to hear it before now. I shall always cherish this gift, Dory. You are a wonder.”
“I am so happy to have been here to hear that.” Honoria ambled over and took Dory’s hand. “You are a stunning musician. I had read in the paper that you played for the prince, but I had no idea you were so gifted. I hope you will play a few more.”
Dory thanked her and after cake was served, she played several more pieces. She kept the rest of the music light and happy and by the time they said goodnight, Markus’s only worry was about Phoebe and why she had run out of the parlor and never returned.
Waiting downstairs until the rest of the house was secured in their rooms, Markus finally made his way upstairs. He stopped outside Phoebe’s door. He should continue to his own room, but he couldn’t. She might be ill. He knocked.
The rustle of cloth filtered through the door before it opened a few inches. Phoebe’s eyes were ringed red, and she sniffed. “Markus, what are you doing?” Her voice was tight.
“I was worried about you. Are you ill?” Afraid she might slam the door, he put his foot on the threshold.
“No. I am fine. I was just emotional and did not wish to make a scene.” A tear leaked, and she brushed it away.
“You are still crying. Because of the music?”
“No. Yes. The music and other things.” Sighing, she stepped back but did not try to close the door.
Markus stepped inside. He told himself to leave it and go to his own bed, but his heart ached for Phoebe. He longed to know what other things had been so upsetting she’d been crying for hours. She stood near the open window in only her shift and a white wrap. It was no different from what he’d seen her in dozens of times when they snacked in the kitchen together, yet he yearned to touch her. He stroked the soft skin where her shoulder and neck met. “Tell me.”
“I have made enough of a fool of myself for one evening, Markus. Please leave me be.” Her shoulders shook.
Pulling her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. “Do not cry, Phoebe. You can tell me anything. No one even knew you were upset. You might have left for any reason tonight.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I know you better than they do and I was worried. Tell me what upset you about Emma’s sonata?” He kissed the top of her head and his reward was wildflowers on a spring day. Phoebe was sunshine in his arms.
She let her head fall back against his chest. “At first it was just the sweetness of the music, but then I began to think about how tender the gesture was. How your sister had created something so perfect and emotional for Emma and for you. I couldn’t bear it. No one has ever done anything as wondrous for me. My brother is trying to barter me off with a dowry to the most eligible man. He has no concern for my happiness or whether or not those men are gentlemen who will give me a good life. Ford’s only concern is his own reputation and that I not bruise it. I know I am being childish and selfish, but I was jealous of how much your sister loves you.”
“Now I feel like an ass. I have been unappreciative of my family’s love. But, Phoebe, that is just Ford. Miles adores you. He respects your decision to go to Everton’s and make a life for yourself.” He could keep her wrapped in his arms forever and wished he had the power to stop time.
Turning toward him, she pressed against him. “I did not wish to make you feel bad. I’m sure the music was very emotional for you. Emma would have loved that sonata. It was happy and sad and tragic.”
“Phoebe, I do not want to talk about Emma right now.” Every inch of him longed for her and her body fit his perfectly.
Wide golden eyes stared up at him. “No. What do you want to talk about?”
A war raged inside Markus and his good sense lost the battle. “Nothing. I want to make love to you and pretend the rest of the world does not exist.”
“That would be completely inappropriate, Markus.” She pressed closer to him.
“Then tell me to leave, Phoebe. Toss me from your room and I will go.” It was a strain to hold back kissing her exposed neck and shoulder.
“I do not want to send you away. Soon I will be gone, back to my life. You will be here raising Elizabeth.” A whimper escaped. “Is it so terrible to want one night to remember for the rest of my life?”
“Why must it be only one?” He was fully aroused and didn’t know how much longer he could hold her like this without making love to her.
“You will be an earl and I will be an Everton lady, and that is just the way it is.” She rose to her toes and kissed his chin. Her breasts pressed against him and ignited passion that would never be quelled. Taking her in his arms, he pressed his lips to hers and devoured her mouth before striding to the bed in two steps.
Completely trusting, she stared up at him with parted lips and flushed skin.
Markus stepped back, bolted the door, and tore off his cravat. Forcing himself to slow down and not ravage her like an animal, he reclined next to her and traced a path along the low neck of her shift. “Can I assume you are a virgin, Phoebe?”
Her breath came in short gasps. “I am.”
“I have to ask you again. Are you certain this is what you want? I would hate it if you regretted this.” Her scent intoxicated him, and he pulled the bow at her shoulder, exposing one perfect round breast.
“I will cherish this, Markus. Do not leave me now. That would be the only thing I could ever regret.”
A low groan escaped him. No man could resist such sweetness or a gift so great and true.