Chapter 17
No. 4
When an Everton lady finds herself in a volatile situation, she should keep her chin up, her shoulders back, and use her wits to soften the scene.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
The snow continued to leave London deserted. At least it appeared so to Phoebe. No one braved the cold to walk the streets. The fire crackled in the hearth, keeping it cozy inside. She pulled her legs under her on the wine-colored damask settee. Staring out the window, she imagined how pretty Rosefield must look in the snow. Markus might take Elizabeth out to play in it or they might huddle by the fire sipping chocolate.
“This is not helping,” Phoebe scolded herself.
“What is not helping?” Honoria breezed into the front parlor in a wispy gown and a flowered hat. She wore sapphires around her wrist and neck and each large stone was surrounded by a ring of diamonds, a stark contrast to the dark wood paneling and masculine decor.
Turning as she put her feet on the floor, Phoebe pulled her wrap tighter. “Never mind. I am just watching the snow pile up and feeling sorry for myself. Why are you dressed for April?”
Honoria’s dress floated around her. “It makes me feel better than bundling up for winter. I ordered tea.”
Everton House was the residence of mostly women, but the rooms were decorated for male sensibilities, with polished hard wood and dark furniture. Still, it was comfortable and unfussy, something Phoebe appreciated.
Phoebe relaxed back. “You will wish for bundling in a few minutes when the chill hits you. But the tea sounds lovely.”
With a swish of her voluminous skirts, Honoria flounced into a cream, overstuffed chair facing Phoebe. “I dislike the city during a stormy winter. No one is about and there is nothing to do. I may go to my country estate for a few months as this weather will ruin the season. If you would like to join me, I would be happy for your company, Phoebe.”
Maybe she could hide at Honoria’s country estate. No one would find her if she just slipped out of town and told only Lady Jane of her intentions to get some peace. Inwardly, she groaned over her responsibilities. “I must stay here through Tuesday, as I have promised those gentlemen I would see them. If you are willing to wait that long, I would consider a time in the country. It is very kind of you to offer.”
Honoria waved her hand. “Not at all. I enjoy your company, and we both deserve some time away from the demands of society. It is no bother to wait a few more days and I am curious to see what Mr. Blunt and Mr. Durnst have to offer themselves. Will one of them change your mind about marriage?”
Outside, a carriage pulled to a stop in front of the house with snow six inches up on the wheels and the familiar Thornbury crest emblazoned on the side. Phoebe sighed as Billy, the footman, jumped from the back and ran up the steps.
Without waiting for a response, which would have been that Miss Hallsmith was not taking callers, Ford, Miles, and her mother stepped onto the street. Mother pulled her hood tight against the driving snow and took Miles’s arm to climb the steps.
Mrs. Grimsby opened the door and cleared her throat. “I couldn’t stop them, Miss.”
As tall as the doorway and broad in the shoulders, Ford pushed the stout housekeeper aside nearly toppling her. “Step aside. I have a right to see my sister.”
Standing as the familiar angst associated with Ford rose from her gut in a pyre to her head, Phoebe forced her voice to a civil tone. “You may, but you do not have the right to push people around in Everton House, Ford. I will thank you to act the gentleman or I will ask you to leave.”
Mrs. Grimsby clutched a chair near the door.
“It is all right, Mrs. Grimsby. You may go. I will see them.” Phoebe put her fists on her hips. “Why are you here and why with so little civility?”
Miles left their mother next to Ford and crossed the room. He kissed Phoebe’s cheek and whispered, “I thought you might need some moral support. He is in a mood.”
The youngest of her three brothers, Miles had a way of easing every moment. She almost smiled over his amusement at the situation. Still, Ford glowered and Mother stood with arms crossed and snow melting on her cloak. They had not waited for Gray to take their outerwear. “Hello, Miles. It is always nice to see you.”
“You had no right to turn down a perfectly good offer of marriage!” Ford stomped his huge, wet boots on the brown-and-red rug, dirtying the cream border.
“Did you come all the way from the country in a snowstorm to complain about my not wishing to marry a man who broke our engagement and embarrassed me in front of England and Scotland?” Phoebe liked the strength in her voice. It was good to stand up to Ford without the constant fury turning her into a banshee.
Mother huffed and tugged her gloves. Her golden eyes, so similar to Phoebe’s, never wavered from their angry stare. Petite and her hair faded to a graying strawberry blond, Mother was still lovely when not wearing a hateful glare.
Gray rushed in. “I did not know you had company, Miss Hallsmith. May I take your guests’ coats and hats?”
“Thank you, Gray.”
He collected the wet items before leaving the parlor mumbling something about there never being surprise guests at Everton House.
Since Mother had not spoken to her in months, Phoebe hesitated to address her. Still, her upbringing demanded she acknowledge her. “How are you, Mother?”
Lucretia Hallsmith narrowed her gaze. “I am not speaking to you, Phoebe. You have seriously disappointed me with your willful behavior. Your father and I did not raise you to be—whatever it is you have become.”
Phoebe returned to her place on the settee, wishing her mother would go back to silence.
Honoria winked and smiled. It was the quietest she had ever been as she watched the family drama unfold.
After flopping onto the seat next to her, Miles squeezed her hand.
At least not everyone was against her. “I am an Everton lady, Mother. I help people and I like it. I do not wish to be married to a fool or to marry out of desperation.”
A loud, disgusted grunt pushed from Ford’s lips. “You are in service and an embarrassment to this family. I will forgive you if you marry Durnst. All will be right again. However, I will make your life miserable if you do not give up this venture. It will be my goal to see you an outcast. Marry Durnst or you are finished, Phoebe. This stupid behavior has gone on long enough.”
“If you think you can threaten me, Ford, you may as well leave now. I am happy as I am and have no need of your support. I live well enough and have friends.”
“Friends…” Ford’s mouth twisted in disgust and he might have said more, but Mother grabbed his arm.
“Phoebe, you are my only daughter. Why can you not do your duty by your family and marry a man of means? It is what you were raised to do.” Mother sat in the chair near the door.
It was true. Phoebe had been raised to be a good girl and marry where she was told. Five years with her strong-willed grandmother had cured her of that notion. “Do you know that Grand never wore a corset and had six offers of marriage after grandfather died? She turned them all down because she did not love them nor need their support. She ran her farm and sold her crops all by herself without needing a man’s guidance.”
Lucretia sighed. “My mother was an odd sort. She was always more comfortable in a pair of breeches than a dress. That does not mean you have to follow in her footsteps. She was not liked by society. I could not bring her to England to meet my friends. She would have been laughed out of any ballroom.”
That society was more important to Mother than Grand hurt Phoebe’s heart. “Mother, even though you were ashamed of her, she loved you very much. I see now that I am more like her than like you. Though, we do have one thing in common. I too am ashamed of my mother.”
Mother gasped.
Guilt seared through Phoebe and she wished she could take it back the instant she’d said it.
“Enough.” Ford strode forward until he hovered over her. “You will marry Durnst. He has made a formal offer and I demand you marry him. He has a large piece of property adjacent to the one Grand left to Mother. Mother has generously agreed to turn the property over to you as a wedding gift. You and your new husband will live on the combined estate in Scotland, and that will be that.”
“No wonder he is chasing after me like a starved cat to a bowl of cream. You are offering to double his farmland and make him a wealthy man. All this just to save face, Ford? You would sell me into a terrible marriage just so that my work as an Everton lady would no longer embarrass you? I have news for you, brother. No one cares. You are not that important and no one in the ton cares that I make a living helping others sort out one problem or the next. In fact, they like that I can help them.”
Ford’s fleshy cheeks turned bright red and his neck was blotchy with rage. “You are talked about in every parlor. They are all saying that Phoebe Hallsmith is disgraced. You might as well walk the streets. It is all the same.”
Horrible man. How had she come from the same family as this monster?
“Enough!” Miles stood. “That is not true. You go too far, Ford. You cannot force her to marry where she does not wish. I am fairly certain that your current mode of convincing her will never work.”
“I go too far? Look at your little sister, Miles. Look what she is costing this family.”
Ford was mean and uncaring, but to call her a whore—was that what he really thought? Maybe it was true. She’d given herself to Markus. She was not a pure and good woman. In Scotland, they said she was cold and unfeeling, and she had proved that by leaving home and disobeying her mother.
Miles stepped between Phoebe and Ford. “You are supposed to protect her, not hurt her. She is doing what she thinks is necessary, as are you.” Turning, he gazed earnestly at Phoebe. “We are staying in town for a few weeks. When the weather is better, Mother and Ford will return to the country. I hope you will come and see us before they leave. I assure you, Ford will be better behaved.”
“You cannot make such an assurance, Miles, but I appreciate the effort.” Phoebe folded her hands in her lap, pretending to be calm. Ranting at Ford would do no good. He was the most hardheaded person she had ever known.
Mother stepped forward. “Will you all excuse us for a few minutes? I would like to speak to Phoebe alone.”
Grumbling, Ford stomped out of the room.
Miles squeezed her hand and followed him out.
Honoria stood. “I will be just outside the door should you need anything, Miss Hallsmith.”
Heart in her throat, Phoebe forced a weak smile. “Thank you, my lady.”
It had been years since she and her mother had been alone together. Suddenly, Phoebe had no idea what to say. “Would you like to sit, Mother?”
Lucretia took the seat that Honoria had vacated. Smoothing her gray skirt, she was out of place in the parlor with her pink blouse and lace around her neck. Her back pole-straight, she stared toward the fire. “I know what you think of me.”
Guilt warred with standing strong inside Phoebe. “I owe you an apology, Mother. I should not have said that.”
She turned, meeting Phoebe’s gaze. “It was the truth. You are ashamed of me, and I was ashamed of my mother. It is ironic, actually.”
“What is?”
Frowning down at the wet hem of her skirt, she sighed and flounced the fabric away from her legs. “The way things turned out. The way they have of coming around full circle. When I was a girl, my parents were very much in love. They met as children and married as soon as they could. They were wild and playful and always running here and there together. As a family, we laughed and enjoyed life in Scotland with its green hills and mad residents.”
Phoebe tried to imagine her mother laughing with Grand, but she came up blank. “What changed?”
“When I was twelve, my cousin Meredith came from England for a visit. She was all of fourteen and very refined. She had attended finishing school and knew all the customs of England and London society. I was fascinated and all I wanted was to be like Meredith. Mother made me wait four entire years before she would allow me to travel to London, and I swore I would find a husband and never come back. You have to understand that my desire to conform to society’s rules was as much an act of defiance to my parents as you wishing to be an unmarried Everton lady is to me.” She smiled, but the expression didn’t touch her sorrowful eyes.
“I am not trying to be defiant, Mother.”
“No. Nor was I. I wanted a certain life and it was not the life my parents had planned for me. I met your father at my first ball and we were married less than a year later. I did not love him, but he was kind and good looking and after a time we came to care very deeply for each other.”
“Do you regret your decision to come to England?”
“Not for a moment. I have enjoyed my life. My only regret was that my mother and I never sat and talked about my decision and that she believed, in the end, nothing had changed. I know now what she endured and I am sorry I did not tell her so.” Mother pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “You will do as you please, just as I did. So you see, we are not so different, Phoebe.”
It was irony that their being opposite made them the same. “Yes. I see. I hope you and I will remain cordial regardless of where my decisions take me.”
Standing, Lucretia brushed out her skirt and took a deep breath. “Come and visit me before I go back to the country, Phoebe. We can have a nice cup of tea. And in the meantime, consider what your brother has said. Two eligible men have offered for you despite your age and situation. You could have a family of your own and you are smart enough to manage either of them quite nicely.”
Manage a man so that he didn’t drive her crazy. That is what her mother expected of her. Phoebe stood and rounded the table to stand in front of Mother. “I will give it some thought for your sake, Mother.”
Her eyes brightened and she smiled. Kissing her cheek, she said, “Thank you.”
Miles waited in the foyer, but Ford had already gone to the carriage. When they were gone, Phoebe wanted to go to her room and sleep for the rest of the day. Of course, she would only stare at the ceiling and find no rest. Still, hiding appealed to her.
“How did the talk with your mother go?” Honoria stood near the stairs like a barricade to self-pity.
Running her hand along the wood paneling, Phoebe longed for a day with no drama from her life or anyone else’s. In her current occupation, that was unlikely, and wishing it wouldn’t make it so. “Better than expected.”
“Your brother Miles is delightful. So charming and amiable. He’s nothing like you.” Honoria swirled her skirts and returned to the parlor.
“Thank you very much.”
Honoria laughed. “Not that you are not charming, my dear. You are direct, funny and highly intelligent.”
“Miles runs all of Ford’s businesses and estates. He is highly intelligent too.” Either she was defending herself or Miles. Phoebe was not certain which.
Cocking her head, Honoria paused and stared out the window into the falling snow. She shrugged. “He hides it better than you. He is all things charming. He and I had a long talk about the weather and how it was cutting into the entertainment provided by London. What is your other brother like? The one who was not here today.”
“Aaron is the smartest. He is the second son and is afforded a very nice sum each month. He must use it wisely as he never comes home and asks for more. In fact, he stays out of Ford’s way entirely. He is not as easygoing as Miles, but he is well liked and as big as Ford.” The last time Phoebe had seen all her brothers in one place had been at Father’s funeral. Yes. Aaron was definitely the smartest of the bunch.
“Where does he reside?”
“He keeps a gentleman’s apartment in town. He could use the townhouse, but then he would be obliged to see our brother when they are in London. I think he sees my mother, but only if he can avoid Ford.”
Honoria huffed and folded her hands together as if straining to be calm. “I hate to say it. That eldest brother of yours is a menace. He stormed out of the parlor and paced for five minutes before demanding Gray fetch his coat and hat. Gray was all too happy to have him out of the house. Even his horses complained when he stepped outside. I apologize, Phoebe, but I just do not like him.”
Sighing, Phoebe stood by the window. A draft pushed through forcing her to return to the settee and the dwindling heat from the fire. “Ford has always been thus. He wants his own way and will bully the rest until he has it. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows why he wants a thing. Like giving me Grand’s property if I marry Durnst. What do Ford and Mother gain from such a deal?”
“I cannot see that they gain anything besides you would be married and out of the country. Perhaps he just likes things to be tidy.” Honoria lifted her tea but when she tasted it she winced and put it back on the table.
The tea had long gone cold. Phoebe took a biscuit but it only made her think of Markus and their clandestine meetings. She put it back on the tray with a long sigh. “No. He is stupid and selfish and wants his way. He will not have it this time.” Phoebe had decided on the spot that she would never again do anything just because Ford wished it. “If Miles did not play steward and man of business for Ford, he would have run us all to the poor house years ago. I cannot let his behavior determine the course of my life. I must stand firm and do what is best for me. Mother will understand and Miles will likely cheer me on.”
“Good for you, Phoebe. I look forward to Tuesday more and more.” Honoria pulled the cord for the kitchen staff to bring more tea.
Everything was going to be all right if Phoebe could stay the course. She would settle into a comfortable life at the society, Ford would act as if she didn’t exist, she would see her mother on occasion, and Markus would eventually find a suitable wife to spend his life with. It was as it should be. Her heart tore to pieces.