Chapter 6
No. 20
An Everton lady will not think of the client romantically.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
Markus had managed only a few moments’ sleep all night. Awash with guilt over nearly kissing Phoebe in the kitchen, he found no peace. After hours of tossing and turning, he wrote several letters and made a plan to get away from Rosefield, before the situation drove him back into the bottle. Since Emma’s death he’d believed a clear mind would be his undoing, but he found the opposite to be true. Dealing with his loss was easier without the brandy. If he’d been inebriated in the kitchens, he might have done something he would truly regret, and worse, Phoebe would regret it even more. If he’d been drunk, he might have ruined a good woman who was trying to help him. He prayed he was not that far gone, but couldn’t be sure. Self-loathing engulfed him and his fingers shook while he fumbled through tying his cravat.
He pulled on his long coat and handed his letters over to Watson. “I am riding out to the Harper farm then intend to visit Marlton. Tell our guests I will return in a few days.”
“What shall I tell Miss Elizabeth?” Watson tucked the envelopes into his pocket.
Fear screamed inside his head, “Run!” but his conscience cried out another message. “I will go up and tell her myself.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Taking the steps two at a time he rushed into the nursery. His heart stopped. Every surface screamed Emma. Pink damask walls and creamy lace all done in the last month she was with child. Hours of decorating managed for the joyous event of their daughter’s birth. Emma was so certain it would be a girl, she sewed a dozen pinafores in pink, yellow, and every other pastel color. Grabbing a dresser to keep his feet, he forced breath back into his lungs and stared at all the beauty his sweet Emma had created for their daughter.
Wide-eyed Elizabeth stood in her crib, watching him.
Markus swallowed and dashed the tears from his eyes. “Good morning, Elizabeth. I had forgotten how pretty your momma made this room for you.”
She cocked her head then raised her arms for him to lift her.
Cradling her, he sat in the large rocking chair. “She loved you very much, you know. I am so sorry you never got to meet her and see how wonderful she was.”
The room didn’t make him sad the way he’d predicted. Avoiding the room hadn’t made him happy, either. Seeing all the things Emma had done made him miss her but it also reminded him of the wonderful last month of her life.
Elizabeth popped her thumb into her mouth and sank against his chest.
“I have to go away for a few days.”
She stopped sucking and gawked up at him.
“Only for a few days, Elizabeth. I promise I will not stay away long. When I return, you and I shall go on a picnic. Your momma loved to picnic even when it was too cold.”
There was nothing as perfect as Elizabeth’s sweet face. Intelligence sharp in her eyes as she watched him. She touched his cheek and wiped away an escaped tear.
“I will be back soon. I only wanted to tell you goodbye before I left.” Lifting her, he put her back in her crib. “You and I are going to survive, little one. I do not know how, but we will manage it.”
He watched her until she curled into a ball and closed her eyes. As long as Elizabeth loved him, with really no reason to, there was hope for the future. With luck, she would sleep until Mrs. Donnelly or Phoebe came for her. He had not kept a promise in two years; he prayed he could keep the ones he made now.
* * * *
Riding like the devil was on his heels cleared the fog from his sleep-deprived mind. He slowed as he approached the Harper farm. Growing potatoes and other vegetables, the fields were already harvested. The rich, dark soil beckoned Markus down from his horse. Even after a long growing season, the earth was good. Taking a handful, he breathed in the musky, fresh scent he’d loved since childhood.
“I wasn’t expecting you, my lord. Didn’t even know noblemen woke this early.” George Harper towered over Markus by at least five inches. He was a giant of a man with enormous shoulders and scruffy blond curls.
“Some do when we are curious as to how one farm outgrows the rest.” Markus dropped the dirt and clapped the remainder from his hands before offering one to Harper for shaking.
Harper’s hand swallowed Markus’s when he shook it. “You want all my secrets?”
“If you are willing to share a few, I would be grateful.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “My wife is just making breakfast. Why don’t you join us and we’ll chat about why my potatoes are the best in the county? On the way, I’ll take you to see my broad beans. They’ll be ready for harvest next week.”
The beans were the biggest Markus had ever seen. Not even in Italy, where they called them fava beans, had they grown as plump and long.
George Harper and his wife, Pearl, lived in a neat cottage, which Markus provided. It was clean and well maintained. A small fire burned in the hearth and bread baked in the oven cut into the brick above and tea steeped on the table. Pearl served coddled eggs and toast with a bean mash more flavorful than any gruel.
“I wonder if you would share this recipe with my new cook, Mrs. Harper?”
Blond hair falling lose from her cap, Pearl blushed. She was of average height, and beside her husband looked a tiny frail thing. “I’m pleased you like it. I will give the recipe to Becca when I see her at church on Sunday.”
“I did not realize the promotion was common knowledge already.” Markus finished his food and put down his fork. Gossip was like a disease, and he hated to think about how much of his life was fodder for the mill.
Pouring more tea, Pearl said, “Becca’s mother is our neighbor. She was so proud of her daughter she came by to boast a bit. Becca is a good girl. We’re all happy for her promotion.”
Markus relaxed. “She is a wonderful cook and baker. I am happy for her as well.”
Smiling, George drank his tea down in one gulp. “Come with me, my lord. We can look over some repairs that need doing while I tell you all about manure.”
Two hours later, Markus rode toward Marlton with a short list of things the Harpers needed fixed and a head full of farming techniques that produced the best vegetables in the county.
There were precious few pretty days left before the English countryside would fall to winter snow, rain, and cold. It was just after noon when Markus rode up to the looming facade where his close friend Daniel Fallon lived. The family sat in the grass not far to the left of the yard.
Daniel stood as Markus approached. “This is a surprise.”
Dismounting, Markus said, “A welcome one, I hope.”
“You are always welcome at our home, Markus.” Sophia brushed her long black hair off her shoulder and smiled up at him from the blanket where three-year-old Charles ate with enthusiasm. “You look well.”
“You mean I look sober and you are too polite to say so.”
Sophia laughed. “I’m American, Markus, I always say what I think.”
Markus bowed. “One of the many reasons we all adore you, Sophia. Young Charles has grown a foot since last I saw him.”
“You have not been here in a long time.” Daniel shook his hand then slapped him on the back.
“I hope I have not done anything in the past few years to harm our friendship.” The worst part of being sober was not remembering what he had ruined while soused.
“Not possible. We have been friends too long. If you came all this way to make some kind of apology, you could have saved yourself the ride. Thomas, Michael and I will always be at your service, Markus.”
It was a relief to know his oldest and dearest friends were still behind him. He had not seen much of them, but he did remember an embarrassing visit to Thomas Wheel’s London home where he drank the man’s brandy and had to be put to bed. Since then Thomas had married Markus’s sister, Dory. He had many reparations to make.
The reason he had come gnawed at him. “I could use a talk if you have the time, Dan?”
Daniel gazed at his wife.
Sophia waved a hand. “You two go inside and chat. Charlie and I have some running and playing to do after he’s laid waste to that chicken leg.”
Still focused on his meal, Charles gave a laugh and smeared some bits of food across his cheek.
Laughing, Daniel put his arm on Markus’s shoulder. “Come in the house. Would you like some tea?”
“I would love a brandy, but the tea will do.” Markus flopped onto the couch near the window in Daniel’s study.
Once he’d rang for tea, Daniel sat adjacent to him. “You have given up drink?”
“My mother has employed the Everton Domestic Society on my behalf. Miss Hallsmith has taken over my home and demands I not drink. To be honest, I needed to stop. Being drunk all the time is tiring and has put my holdings at risk. Also, as Miss Hallsmith pointed out, it’s very much like my father.” He cringed at the admission.
“Is that Miles’s sister, Phoebe? I have not seen her since she was in braids.”
The tea arrived and the housekeeper poured for them.
“She is no longer in braids.” His heart expanded with memories of her red hair and the smattering of freckles on her cheeks, but his head pounded with too many worries over right and wrong.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, she has grown up well then? She went away if I recall. Scotland, was it?”
“Her grandmother suffered an apoplexy and Phoebe went to take care of her. From what I understand, she nursed her grandmother back to health and stayed five years caring for her until her death.”
“Wasted her entire courting years.” Daniel sat forward with his elbows on his knees.
The tea was strong and eased the tension building inside Markus. “She is still young enough to marry.”
“I assumed you came here to discuss Emma, but it seems you came for other reasons. Do you have feelings for Miss Hallsmith?” Daniel put his tea on the table and pushed it away. A pointed stare accompanied the question.
It wasn’t possible to have feelings for Phoebe. He barely knew her. Whatever happened in the kitchen was due to the intimacy of the moment and his loneliness. There was no other explanation.
“No. Maybe. I do not know. My secretary is smitten with her. Part of me finds her curious and smart. She is as efficient as any man and more determined than most. I have never met a woman like her. The rest of me is appalled by the idea that I might like her. I came here today because I could not stand to be there and I knew I could keep my promise to not drink at Marlton. Also, I would never discuss this particular subject with anyone else and I knew you would listen.” He sounded like an idiot. Grown men didn’t behave like schoolboys because a bit of skirt appealed to them.
“How is Elizabeth?”
The light hiding in Markus’s heart returned to full brightness. “She is an angel. After all I have put her through, she loves me. I do not know how or why, but I am grateful for it. I was a fool to stay away from her for so long, and she has suffered. So much so that she has not uttered her first word.”
“Sophia and I visited a few months ago. You were not at home. We had thoughts of bringing Elizabeth here until you were feeling better, but the staff was adamant that they had been charged with her care and would not relent. Elizabeth went into a rage, so we did not push the issue further. Sophia wrote to your sister about the matter.”
Crushing guilt battered him from the inside out. “Since Phoebe’s arrival, the tantrums have stopped. We will be patient with her finding words for a while longer. I will take her to London for medical care if necessary.”
“What does Miss Hallsmith think of that?” Daniel asked.
“I have not discussed the matter with her.” Though he knew she would not be keen on the idea of subjecting Elizabeth to scads of doctors and tests. Phoebe was certain that when Elizabeth had something to say, she would do so.
“Exactly what is Miss Hallsmith doing at Rosefield?”
The nights in the kitchen when they talked and got to know each other flew through his mind. “She is hiring staff, seeing to the household needs, and caring for Elizabeth.”
“A lady, doing all of that? How strange. And is it just the two of you in the house?”
“Of course not! Everton provides a chaperon. Lady Honoria Chervil is also in residence. I would not have let her come without a chaperon. Hell, I did not want her to come at all.”
“But she did come and she has taken control of your home and now you are here to discuss her. How long has she been with you?” Daniel sipped his tea and sat back, watching.
“Three days, or maybe it’s four.” It was impossible that it was only a few days. She had turned his miserable life upside down in such a short time. “I should toss her from the house.”
Choking on a sip of tea, Daniel sputtered. “You should hold on to her as tightly as you can.”
“What? She is disruptive and bossy.” He would go home today and send Phoebe and Honoria back where they belong.
Daniel drank the last of his tea and returned the cup and saucer to the tray. “You and I have been friends a long time, Markus. We were in short pants when we met and I could not break you out of your depression or stop you from drinking yourself ill. Thomas and Michael also tried to help you get back on your feet. Your mother and sister came to your home and you threw them out. The women in your family are not easily battled, and yet you forced both out. In four days, Phoebe Hallsmith has returned order to your home, made you see your daughter as an angel, and convinced you to stop drinking. In my opinion, you had better hold on to that girl with both hands. She has done in less than a week what the people who love you could not accomplish in two years.”
Heart pounding and hands wet with perspiration, Markus hated to admit any of what Daniel said was true. “But, Dan, she is too close. I do not think her being in my house is a good idea.”
“You mean because you are attracted to her?” Daniel shrugged. “I do not think Emma would want you to be alone forever. She loved you and would want you to be happy. If Miss Hallsmith makes you happy, I see no reason to avoid her.”
The idea of dishonoring Phoebe shook him and he forced his fists to relax. “I do not need or want a mistress.”
Shoulders stiff, Daniel stood and walked to his desk. He moved a glass paperweight but then returned it to its original position. “Sometimes I see no resemblance in you to the man I grew up with. Miss Hallsmith is a lady, not the kind of woman who one makes a mistress.”
“I will never marry again. Emma was my wife—is my wife. That will never change.”
Daniel ran his fingers through his blond hair, loosing part of it from its queue. “Then let her hire your staff, find a nanny for your daughter, and go back to London where she will help the next family in need. Or perhaps she will benefit from a match with your secretary.”
“Yes.” It was as if someone were gripping his heart and squeezing the life out of it.
“I would be very happy to see you find someone to love again, Markus. With Miss Hallsmith or someone else, it would be good for you to find love again.” Daniel leaned against his desk.
“No one can fill my heart the way Emma did. I have no room for another. Nothing could ever be like my marriage with Emma. She was the other half of me.” The voice tightened and he struggled to draw breath.
“It would not be the same, that is true. Before I met Sophia, I believed myself in love with Jocelyn. Maybe I was in love with her, but the love, the feelings, the relationship was not the same as what I have with Sophia.”
“Jocelyn had an affair before you were even married. She was not the right woman for you. You cannot compare the two.” Markus couldn’t keep from scoffing.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Daniel straightened away from the desk. “My point exactly. Regardless of Jocelyn’s feelings, mine were clear. I cared for her enough to want to marry her. I was smitten and wanted to spend every second with her, which led me to finding her with her lover. However, when she was no longer in my life, I was certain I could never love again, never find a woman who made me feel that way. And I was right.”
“I do not understand.”
“The feelings I have for Sophia are completely different from those I had for Jocelyn. In my heart, Jocelyn is dead. At least, the woman I thought she was is long buried. My heart was so full with her that when she destroyed our love, I hardened myself against any woman taking her place. It was just as well, because no woman could or should. Sophia did not take Jocelyn’s place. She made her own place in my heart, which has room for more love than I had ever imagined.”
As the vice around his heart eased, it allowed guilt to push in. “It is not the same. Jocelyn is still in the world.”
Daniel spread his arms with his palms out then shrugged. “I know my situation is not the same as yours. You love Emma still. I hold only the memory of my youthful belief in Jocelyn in my heart. The reality was much different. But I believe your heart has more than enough room for a different love. Not a love to replace Emma. No one can do that, and it would be unfair to the woman to compare her. A love that inspires the man you are today.”
“I do not think I can do that, Dan.”
Daniel nodded, crossed the room and sat. “You don’t have to make any decisions now, Markus. Nothing has to change beyond you staying sober and taking care of your home and family. I only suggest you release yourself of all this extra guilt.”
“I should feel guilty. I am guilty. I put everything I own at risk and now I behave like a boy in short pants.” Markus should be flogged; at least that would make him feel better.
Slapping his back, Daniel smiled. “Go home, Markus. No one is forcing you into a relationship with Miss Hallsmith or anyone else. I am saying you need not feel guilty over your feelings and to keep an open mind on the subject of loving again.”
He had planned to spend the night at Marlton, but heading to London might be a better idea. He could find a pub along the way and forget all of this. Golden eyes and russet hair would fade at the bottom of a fine brandy. His own weakness disgusted him. He had already broken too many promises. He would honor his agreement with Phoebe and his duty to Elizabeth. “I will return home. Thank you for the talk.”
“I am sorry I could not be of more help.”
Markus rose. “You have given me a lot to think about, Dan. Forgive me for interrupting your picnic.”
Waving off the apology, Daniel said, “Feel free to visit anytime. Bring Elizabeth next time and she and Charlie can play together.”
“Thank you.” They walked out of the office and to the front door.
In the yard, a maid cleaned up the picnic while Sophia chased after Charles in the field beyond.
“Please tell Sophia I said goodbye. I will be in touch soon.” Markus shook Daniel’s hand, mounted his horse, and rode away from Marlton.
* * * *
When Markus reached Rosefield, he walked his horse to the barn. It was dark, but he managed to light a lantern, and since there were no grooms, he watered, unsaddled, and brushed out the stallion. There was something healing in taking care of the beast. It was real and laborious and had nothing to do with him. His selfishness mirrored his father’s and he couldn’t bear it.
Surprised at how eager he was to go inside, he forced his breathing to slow. It was late and the house would be asleep.
Watson did not open the door, since Markus said he would not be home for a few days. Knowing the front would be bolted, Markus stole in through the servant’s entrance near the kitchen. It was dark as pitch, but he managed to find his way down the hall and up the steps. There was a squeeze of disappointment without Phoebe stealing a snack in the kitchen, but he let it pass.
Instead of going directly to bed, he passed his room and opened the nursery door. Elizabeth might have played and laughed all day long, but he found her as he left her, curled up in a ball with her thumb in her mouth. He ran his finger along her soft cheek before sitting in the rocking chair. How long he watched her sleep, he didn’t know.
“You are home?” Phoebe whispered from the doorway.
Her hair flowed around her shoulders loose and wild and her feet poked out from under her nightgown. Whenever she came to the kitchen she wore slippers and a robe, but she stood in Elizabeth’s room barefoot and in only her shift. “I decided not to go to London.”
“Where did you go?” She stepped inside the room and crossed her arms over her chest. “Forgive me. It is none of my business.”
Rising, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Are your feet cold?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped onto the wool rug curling her toes into the pile. “I heard a noise and when I opened my door the nursery door was open. I was concerned.”
“I went to speak to a farmer then rode out to Marlton to see the earl.” Mesmerized by her bare toes, he couldn’t take his eyes from them.
“I see. Watson said you would be gone several days.”
“Yes. I told him as much, but changed my mind.” Their whispered conversation didn’t disturb the gentle breath of Elizabeth’s sleep.
Stepping closer, Phoebe peered into the crib. Her arm was close enough to his that her warmth infused him. “Why did you change your mind?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Phoebe.”
“I’m sorry. Always poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. It gets me in a lot of trouble. Another thing to add to my long list of flaws.” Moving to the edge of the carpet, she put space between them.
He closed the gap and tucked her cerise hair behind her ear, a tiny gasp his reward. “You always forget all the wonderful qualities you possess, which counterbalance those tiny flaws. No one is perfect, Phoebe. You may continue to ask your questions, but must accept that sometimes I will decline to answer.”
“Fair enough.” So close, her breath mingled with his.
If he leaned down a fraction, he could take her mouth and ravage it until they were both breathless.
She dropped her arms, leaving her pert, round breasts outlined by the moon shining through the window. Only a thin piece of cotton separated her from his touch. It was all he longed to do, and the one thing he could never do. Betrayed by his body, which strained to be with her, near her, inside her. Good lord, he was going mad. He kissed the tip of her nose and stepped back. “You should return to your room before you catch a chill.”
Crossing her arms again, hiding her attributes.
He was grateful for the added barrier. How much could one man take?
“Elizabeth will be glad you are home. She missed you today.” Eyes wide, she backed away until her shoulder bumped the doorframe.
“I missed her too. Good night, Phoebe. I look forward to hearing all about the candidates for Rosefield staff in the morning. Shall we meet after we break our fast?”
With a nod, she ran from the room. Her feet padded away down the hall and her door closed with a nick and the sound of her throwing the bolt.
Good. He needed her to lock her door.