Chapter 13
No. 26
The Society is here to support our ladies. Asking for help is encouraged.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
It wasn’t so terrible to want one perfect night for herself. If Phoebe couldn’t have Markus for her own, at least she could carry the memory of his lovemaking with her.
He undressed her with such care, kissing his way down her shoulder to her chest. When his mouth closed around her nipple, it was a lightning bolt to her sex. The Everton rules flew out the window with all the things she’d been taught a lady should be.
His velvet jacket brushed against her skin, soft and rough at once. Her flesh was sensitive to the lightest touch so that even the soft cotton shift flowing away made her arch and moan.
“Phoebe, you are so beautiful.”
His words filled her with joy and the tenderness in his eyes warmed her heart. “You are overdressed.”
Standing, he pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. With each layer of clothing, he revealed strength and masculinity. Lean muscles covered his arms and shoulders.
“Do you do some sport, Markus?”
Head cocked, he smiled. “I used to work the fields with my tenants but lately I only ride. It seems riding for days without end kept me from getting too soft.”
When his breeches hit the floor, Phoebe considered changing her mind for half a second.
He was beautiful and covered in a smattering of fair hair. Stepping out of his clothes brought him closer, and she reached out and touched the flesh covering his ribs. He shook at her touch, and she skimmed her fingers up to the pebbled nipples.
The firelight danced off his skin and glimmered in his eyes. “I do not think I have ever yearned for anyone the way I do for you. Even knowing I should go, I cannot leave you.”
“I would be very vexed if you left now.” She’d tried to lighten the mood, but it sounded more whine than joke.
Lying on the mattress next to her, he ran his fingers along her waist to her hip. “I am not going anywhere.”
She shivered.
“Are you afraid, Phoebe?”
“I would be lying if I said I had no fear at all. I understand this will be painful for me.” A knot formed in her throat and the last word squeaked out.
Him kissing the shell of her ear set her on fire. “I will do my best to make the one instant of pain worthwhile for you.”
“An instant? Is that all it is?” Women rarely spoke of what happened between married people. Phoebe was raised on a farm, so she had some idea, and a few girls in Scotland had giggled about their experiences.
His kisses distracted her from her concerns. Soft, strong lips danced with hers as his tongue swept the inside of her mouth demanding she join as well. He gripped her bottom and pulled her tight to his shaft, yet she didn’t fear him. Markus would never hurt her physically. And her broken heart was inevitable, so she pushed that fear aside.
Every touch set her trembling with desire and the moment he slid his fingers between her folds everything else fell away and there was only the pleasure and something tightening within her. Wantonly, she pressed against his hand, jerking and relishing his fingers sliding through her wetness.
Unsure but wanting more, she clung to his back. “Markus.”
“Yes. Tell me, sweetheart.” He pressed his shaft tight to her hip and slid his fingers inside.
There were no emotions designed to express the way his lips, hands, and fingers made her feel. It was the perfect moment of adoration, and Phoebe soared above the world. Ecstasy crashed around her, forcing her to buck and she gasped. “Oh, God.”
Markus wrapped his arms around her, holding her until the waves of pleasure eased. Brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek, he leaned on his elbows and smiled at her. “You are a magnificent woman, Phoebe. You can have anything you want in this world. I hope you will come to know that.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
He pressed his shaft to the juncture of her thighs, sliding between her lips. The intimacy was uncomfortable but good at the same time. He slid himself along her wet crease until she closed her eyes with the pleasure of it.
“Look at me, Phoebe.”
The fire still glowed in his dilated eyes. Intensity shone through and she wanted all of him.
Thrusting forward, he tore her in half.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“Just stay still for a moment and the pain will go away. I promise.” He never took his gaze away from hers, and it was like he had some mystical hold on her.
True to his word, the pain that she was sure had killed her disappeared and only desire remained. She pressed her hips up and the pleasure increased.
“Sweetheart, you are making it very hard for me to remain still and give you time to adjust.” His jaw ticked.
“Feels good now, Markus.” She ran her hand along his cheek, his day’s growth of beard rubbing the pads of her fingers.
With a growl more animal than man, he pulled back, leaving only his tip still inside before pressing fully into her. Markus set a rhythm that Phoebe could not resist joining. With every thrust, she lifted her hips to meet him. Each time her most sensitive bud would contact his body and her pleasure would escalate.
Greater than before, when the rapture came, a cry escaped her mouth.
Markus pressed his lips to hers and smothered her voice as he groaned.
Silence hung around them as he wrapped her in his arms and rolled until she lay next to him with her legs entwined with his. He kissed her forehead.
“That was wonderful, Markus.”
“You are wonderful.” He hugged her tighter, then eased from the bed. When he returned, he held a wet cloth and wiped her inner thighs and womanhood clean. “Can you trust Arwen with the sheets, sweetheart?”
A red smudge marred the white sheets. “I will take care of it. You should return to your own room before we are discovered.”
Already her heart was breaking, but she knew it was the right thing. She could hold on to this wonderful memory for the rest of her life, and Markus would find someone suitable to fill Emma’s role.
He knelt next to the bed and rested his forehead on her arm. “You want me to go and all I want is to hold you through the night.”
Dear God, why did this have to be so difficult? “What we want does not matter. This is the way things are, and if we are discovered it would be a disaster for both of us.”
Pain etched in his eyes and a deep crease formed around his mouth when he gazed up at her. With a nod, he returned the cloth to the basin on the table, pulled on his breeches, picked up his remaining clothes, and without ever taking his eyes from her left the room.
Despite how beautiful the night had been, she ached with longing to have Markus back in her arms. He might have wanted to stay, but he would come to regret that if they were found out. No one could ever know what they had shared. With that in mind, Phoebe got out of bed and began the process of cleaning up the evidence.
If she would never marry, then at least she would have this memory to cherish. She should feel ashamed, but when she thought about the way they had come together, joy shook her from head to toe and all the delicious places in between.
* * * *
Phoebe eased out of her chair in the breakfast room just as Mrs. Donnelly rushed in. A rest after the sleepless night was not to be.
“Miss Hallsmith, the nanny is here. Miss Cavot arrived a moment ago. I have asked her to wait in the small parlor.”
“I did not expect her for another few days.” Phoebe had not even spoken to Markus about Miss Cavot’s credentials yet. She had hoped to not have to face him so soon. “Where is his lordship?”
“In his study with Mr. Blunt, Miss.”
It took a force of will to stifle the groan building inside Phoebe. Not only Markus but Jared as well. She was being punished for being wanton and willful. It was the only explanation. “Very well. See if Miss Cavot needs tea or food and I will speak to his lordship. Please ask her to be patient, as she is early and we are not quite ready to receive her.”
Mrs. Donnelly stood straight and folded her hands in front of her. “Of course. I will take care of her while you deal with the rest.”
Phoebe walked down the hall and across the foyer. How she wished she were the kind of person to run from anything. As an Everton lady, she could not. She knocked.
“Come in,” Markus called from inside.
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and walked inside.
Both men froze looking at her from behind the desk. Jared stooped over Markus’s left shoulder as the two had been examining some papers.
Markus stood.
Jared pulled a stern face.
Everton Ladies did not run. “My lord, the nanny is here. I apologize but I thought you might like to discuss her qualifications before I introduce her to Miss Elizabeth.”
Jared straightened and frowned with his hands behind his back.
Markus nodded. “She is early. Blunt, please excuse us for a few minutes.”
With a brief smile at Phoebe, Jared stomped out of the study.
Markus walked to the door and closed it before holding the chair near his desk. Fresh cut wood and spices that were distinctly Markus assaulted her senses. “Please sit, Phoebe. Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?” She sat more slowly than she might normally, but hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Once he rounded his desk, Markus sat. “I worried you might be sore after last night. Actually, I worried about many things with regard to your feelings this morning as well.”
“Markus, can we just talk about Miss Cavot?” Her face burned, and she hated her inability to control her embarrassment. She should be flattered that he cared about her health, but she wished she could sink into the thick carpet and disappear.
Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair then rested them on the desk. “As you wish.”
Sticking to business was the best way to get through the awkward moment. Phoebe gave a long account of the letters and references that preceded Miss Cavot by one day. “The agency must have sent her before we even had the mail in hand. I suppose they were confident that we could not disapprove.”
“It sounds as if she is more than qualified. Shall we see if Elizabeth takes to her?” He stood.
She stood, forgetting about her aches and pains, but the quick movement reminded her.
Markus rushed around the desk. “You are in pain. I am so sorry, Phoebe. You must know I never meant to hurt you.”
“I am only a little sore, as I imagine anyone would be. Please do not fret over me. These are strange circumstances, and we will have to endure each other’s company for a few more days. If Miss Cavot is as wonderful as the agency says, I will be out of your hair very soon and we can resume our normal lives.” Her voice was steady and she was proud of how calm and official she sounded.
His frown shot darts in her heart. “And that is what you wish, to return to London as soon as possible?”
“I am a Lady of the Everton Domestic Society. I have broken more rules than I care to enumerate. I would be most grateful if what happened between us was kept private, and since you are a gentleman, I have no doubt of that. My place is to return to the London office and await my next assignment.”
“Is this because of Emma?” He tipped her chin up, but she pulled away.
“Of course not. There is no blame to be placed. You have your duty and I have mine. Our honor dictates how we go forward, my lord.” She gripped the back of the chair and hoped he couldn’t tell her fingers shook.
The muscle in his jaw ticked the way it had when he restrained himself the night before. “I am trying very hard to not become upset with you, Phoebe. There is no way I can pretend that I understand your decision, but there is no need to insult me or belie our friendship by calling me my lord.”
If her heart tore from her chest, it would not have surprised her. Nothing could be more difficult, but she had no business with a viscount and certainly not with the earl he would become. She would do well to marry Mr. Blunt, but the thought repulsed her. No. Everton’s was the perfect place for her. “I apologize. I do not wish to insult you or ruin our friendship, Markus. It is only that I have to leave, and it would be easier on both of us if we did not repeat what happened last night.”
Impossibly, his frown deepened. “As you wish. Where is Miss Cavot?”
Swallowing the pain of his cool tone, she pulled her shoulders back. “In the small parlor.”
He motioned for her to precede him out the door, every movement stiff and brisk as if he held back.
The situation was difficult, but she knew that in a few weeks he would be glad she had been the voice of reason. She couldn’t bear another broken engagement, and surely that would have been the outcome of an entanglement with Markus.
“I will go and get Elizabeth and meet you in the parlor.” He took the steps two at a time.
Phoebe stood outside the parlor door and calmed her breathing. Her emotions were a jumble of confusion, yet she was certain she was doing the right thing. Everton Ladies do their assignment, then they move on. One more deep breath and she pushed the door open.
A few years older than Phoebe, Miss Cavot had brown hair and blue eyes. She wore a brown dress with white trim and sat with her hands in her lap. She stood when Phoebe entered.
“I am Phoebe Hallsmith. I am acting as temporary assistant to the viscount.”
“Winnifred Cavot. It is nice to meet you.” She curtsied.
Phoebe did as well, then walked over, offering Miss Cavot her seat again. “We did not expect you for a few days, Miss Cavot. I only received the letter with your references yesterday.”
Eyes wide, Miss Cavot blushed. “I am sorry. The agency said you were in need and sent me directly. If I had known you were not informed, I would have given you a few days to decline before setting out.”
“Never mind that now. You are here, and if Miss Elizabeth approves, you will have the post. I must warn you, Elizabeth has had no mother and a difficult time of it. She does not speak, though I feel she is capable, just unwilling.”
“Poor lamb. In some cases, the child can wait years to speak. I hope I will be able to help her.” Miss Cavot smoothed her skirts and sorrow filled her eyes.
Sympathy was a good trait in a nanny. “Your last employer, Lord Guthry, said you had a way with children and they were sorry to let you go when their son went to school.”
“John was a good boy. I miss him, but he and I write to keep in touch. May I ask you a question, Miss Hallsmith?” Miss Cavot leaned in.
“Of course.”
“You said you were a temporary assistant. Do you mean housekeeper? I met Mrs. Donnelly who said she was the housekeeper. I am not quite sure I understand how this house works.”
“I am from the Everton Domestic Society. This is my current assignment, and once you are settled in, I will go back to London. You should find the house in order. Watson and Mrs. Donnelly are capable of keeping up with the staff. You will be charged with caring for and educating Miss Elizabeth. All will be well.” It was all true and should have made her happy. She had done her best and accomplished a tremendous amount in the short time she’d been at Rosefield. They did not need her anymore. A knot filled her chest like a lump of coal had replaced her heart.
“I have heard of the society, but you are the first Everton lady I have ever met. Do you like your work?” Miss Cavot’s eager enthusiasm brightened the mood.
Phoebe forced a smile. “It is very satisfying to help a family in need. This has been a good assignment. The family is visiting. His lordship’s mother, sister, and brother-in-law are here. They will stay a week or two, I believe.”
“I see. Thank you for informing me.” Miss Cavot rolled along with the change of subject and asked no more questions about Phoebe’s work.
The door opened and Elizabeth ran in followed by Markus. She took one look at Miss Cavot and stopped short. With wide green eyes, she stared from Phoebe to Miss Cavot.
“It is all right, Elizabeth. This is Miss Cavot, and she is going to care for you. She is your new nanny.” Phoebe forced calm into every word.
Miss Cavot stood and curtsied. “How do you do Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth dropped into an awkward and adorable curtsy, then stepped closer.
Phoebe said, “Miss Cavot, this is Markus Flammel, Viscount of Devonrose.
Markus bowed and joined them.
Another curtsy from Miss Cavot and they all sat.
Question after question, Miss Cavot answered without flinching. She even managed to keep Elizabeth from breaking a vase while telling Markus about her former employment. By the time they left the small parlor, Markus, Elizabeth, and Miss Cavot were all satisfied with the situation.
Phoebe just wanted to go to her room and cry.
At the third step, Dorothea Wheel stopped her. “Miss Hallsmith, do you have a moment?”
Her tears would have to wait. Plastering a smile on her face, she turned. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Wheel?”
Dory threaded her hand around Phoebe’s elbow. “I wonder if you would sit in the parlor and talk for a while. It has been years since I saw you last. I would like to get reacquainted with the woman who saved my brother and returned order to Rosefield in so short a time.”
“I did not save him. He was ready to return to his life. I only pushed the issue and perhaps made him feel guilt over his behavior.” Phoebe stifled her sigh and went to the larger parlor with Dory.
“I tried guilt when we came and he tossed us from the house. Markus can be quite stubborn.” Dory called for tea.
Sitting, Phoebe smoothed her skirts. “As I said, Mrs. Wheel, he was ready to return.”
“You should call me Dory. I know we have not seen each other in years, but I hope to count you among my friends, Phoebe.”
“Thank you. Most of my friends disengaged with me years ago when I went to Scotland, and the rest abandoned ship when I joined the Everton Domestic Society a year ago. It would be nice to have a friend outside of my work.” Phoebe fought off those emotions she usually kept tucked away. There was no sense feeling bad about the past.
“I think you have made a very brave and interesting choice. Are you happy with your work?” The tea arrived and they waited for Katy to leave before speaking.
“I am satisfied. I enjoy helping people and I am not forced to marry where I do not wish.”
Dory rolled her eyes. “You were away when I proposed to Tom. Did you know he saved me from having to marry an old beast of an earl? We eloped.”
Finally, someone who might understand. “I had no idea. I’m afraid very little news got to me in Scotland while my grandmother was ill. I heard only the news Mother sent. Usually she only wrote to tell me bad news or how disappointed she was in me.”
A long sigh from Dory filled the room. “Mother and I have come to terms, but it was a difficult transition. I hope you and your mother will find a way to come back together.”
That was doubtful but a nice notion. “I hear congratulations are in order. My maid told me you are going to have a baby.”
A lovely blush bloomed across Dory’s face. “We are thrilled. I hope it is a boy but Tom says he wants a girl. I thought all men wanted boys.”
The vision of Markus telling the story of Jack the Giant Slayer to Elizabeth crowded Phoebe’s mind. “Little girls have a way of warming their father’s hearts.”
“Not my father’s.” Dory’s smile faded and sorrow filled her eyes.
“Markus dotes on Elizabeth.” The moment it was out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. Calling him Markus and the dreamy quality in her voice surely didn’t escape Dory’s notice.
“You and my brother have grown close?” Her question held curiosity but no venom.
Phoebe lifted her tea and sipped it. “We are friends in the way that can happen when thrust together by circumstances.”
Cocking her head made Dory’s perfect blond curls slide to the side. “What was your father like?”
Thanking God for the change of subject, Phoebe said, “He was a kind and gentle man like Miles. He always made me feel like I was the light of his life, and I miss him every day.”
“I have met your brother Miles. He is a friend of Tom’s. He is a charming gentleman. It is strange he has not found a nice girl to marry.”
Shrugging, Phoebe sipped the cooling tea. “As the third son, he has little to offer a girl of any breeding. He runs my oldest brother Ford’s estates and does so very handily. I think he is happy.”
“He has an allowance. Surely it is enough to keep a wife. Perhaps you can introduce him to a nice Everton lady. He should find someone smart and brave like his sister.” Dory smiled over her cup.
“Men do not want women who have aged to the point where Everton’s is their only hope.” The lump of coal returned.
Dory laughed. “Men have no idea what they want until it is dropped into their laps, and even then, it can take some ranting to get them to see what is right before them.”