Smoothing down the skirts of her dress, which Hugh had helped her into just a moment before, Phoebe watched Hugh ride into the distance. She was deeply unsettled. This was not supposed to happen. Not this fusing of the heart, as if he’d invaded her very being. He was a man, and men had only used her in the past to further their ends, while she’d been forced to compromise her heart and body to retain a tenuous security.

What’s more, he’d belittled her this morning. Was it the start of something more insidious? Experience with men had taught her that any initial hope or pleasure would soon be snuffed out. That would inevitably happen with Mr Redding. They’d go to London, and soon he’d be squiring his sister to balls and assemblies where he’d meet the kind of woman he’d marry.

She didn’t doubt that he believed her exquisite. Men were like that. They said what they needed to say to get what they wanted. As soon as Mr Redding felt the pressure to take a wife, Phoebe would be discarded.

She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists as she strove for the strength she’d one day need to summon.

Before that time, though, she’d need to shore up her position so that when Mr Redding left, she’d not be entirely destitute.

Unfortunately, she was doing what she knew she should not. Her heart was not just warming to him, but regularly throughout the day her mind would thrill at the memory of the wild and wanton sensations he evoked in her.

She knew it was time to leave this place, and hoped she’d feel safer living in some small cottage in London where no one would know her.

She’d thought long and hard about Miss Redding’s revelation regarding Wentworth’s secret marriage, and had decided it was not something she intended to bring up with Mr Redding. They’d not spoken of Wentworth in days. In fact, Phoebe intended never speaking of him again. Ada Redding’s words had struck a chord. It would be better never to mention Wentworth’s name in the hope he would eventually fade from memory. Phoebe’s ideas of bringing him to justice could never be realized without sacrificing herself, now that it had been made so clear there was not a single person who would vouch for her if she were caught and faced trial.

Raising her eyes to the blue she glimpsed beneath the canopy, she ran her hand down her belly and felt a shiver of apprehension.

She could never be Lady Cavanaugh and continue to enjoy her freedom. She could never be a lady again.

But she could be happy. At least for now, and that was better than nothing.

If life had taught her anything, it was that its few moments of happiness were fleeting.

She started to walk back to the house, deep in thought, her body still humming with the pleasurable sensations her new lover had unleashed in her while her mind ran over the probabilities.

She would have to live as a lower-class woman with no reputation, when she was used to privilege. When Mr Redding tired of her or took a wife, she’d be discarded.

That meant she had to make the most of what generosity he was prepared to extend her. She needed to ensure a measure of future security before she could give sway to her heart, which was proving as foolishly susceptible as it had when Wentworth had wooed her in such a calculating fashion.

She was barely into the house when Ada’s loud whisper in the gloomy corridor took her by surprise.

“Phoebe, come here! Quickly, before my brother sees us!”

Startled, Phoebe was pulled into the storeroom, Miss Redding closing the door behind them.

“I’ve had an idea,” she said, then, in more disappointed tones when Phoebe didn’t reply, “Our conversation this morning has given me a brainstorm. Listen to me, Phoebe. You want to see Mr Wentworth brought low on account of your mistress, just as I want the same thing. I’m determined to do it, but I can’t do it alone.”

Phoebe could see where this was going and shook her head. “Despite what I said this morning, I’ve changed my mind. I can’t help you with regard to Wentworth, Miss Redding,” she said firmly. “Your brother is right. You must forget about Mr Wentworth. I’m very sorry about what he did to you—”

“But, for the sake of my child—”

“Your child would have no future branded as a bastard.”

Miss Redding gasped, but Phoebe went on quickly. “Your brother was doing the only thing he could by the two of you: ensuring you both had a future. You must not think of Mr Wentworth or your child again. You are not yet twenty, and you have your life ahead of you. It’s full of possibilities as long as you can put the past behind you.”

Phoebe’s hand strayed to her belly, and fear gripped her by the throat. Please, dear Lord, don’t let me be with child, she thought. I don’t think I could bear to lose a babe like poor Ada, and I do not have the wherewithal to see justice done by Wentworth.

In the ribbon of light that sliced across the small utility room, Phoebe saw the pain in her eyes yet Miss Redding was not going to let it go.

“You must help me find out who the woman is to whom Mr Wentworth is legally married. Don’t you see, if it were made public, he’d be forced to live with the common creature and at least that would be some consolation. Please, find out who she is and entice her to come forward. If he has treated her as badly as he has treated me and your mistress, then she’ll be only too pleased to inform the world of the kind of man he is. It’s not full justice he’d be served, but at least it’s something.”

“A fine plan, Miss Redding, but how do you suppose I can learn the whereabouts of his wife? I’m—”

“An ignorant servant, but Phoebe, my brother was speaking about you earlier, and he is full of admiration for your ability to mimic your betters. Why, he declared you could fool a duke! Therefore, if you can as easily deport yourself with the aristocracy as you can with the serving classes, then you can be a spy. Search out Wentworth’s contacts. I can help you! I know names, Phoebe, but I can’t do it. I’ve my reputation to think of, and I cannot go places alone as you can. I’d be recognized in some quarters—certainly as an unmarried woman in need of a chaperone.”

“And so would I!” Phoebe shook her head. She was not entertaining any of it. Her mind was made up. There would be no fair trial for her if she fell into Wentworth’s clutches, and word from Mrs Withins was that he’d offered a handsome reward for anyone whose information led to Lady Cavanaugh’s arrest.

Thank the good Lord Mr Redding would be taking her to London before the end of the week.

“Wentworth and his staff wouldn’t recognize you either as a servant or a lady. You said it yourself! Why, you were only in your mistress’s employ for a month, and you say you met him but a couple of times.”

Phoebe bit her lip. “I can’t do it. He would recognize me. I’m sure of it.”

Ada looked fierce. “That’s not what you told my brother. You’re just saying it because you’re afraid.”

“I am afraid, Ada. Mr Wentworth is a horrible man. I saw what he did to my mistress. No, I’m not going anywhere near him.”

“I’m not suggesting you consort with him. Just that you quiz his circle: friends or his aide de compte. I know where to find Collins. He served Mr Wentworth during the war and for five years after that. He was kind to me, and I think he feared Mr Wentworth, but he would do it for me—he’d tell me where to find Wentworth’s wife. And then I’d tell you, and you could seek her out.”

When Miss Redding gripped Phoebe’s hand and begged her once more, Phoebe knew it really was time to leave. Agreeing to Miss Redding’s request that she move in more aristocratic circles would be like signing her death warrant.

* * *

“Hugh, I’ve been ordering my thoughts since I came here.”

Hugh glanced up from the writing desk in the parlor, surprised to see that his sister’s usual vacant look was replaced by an almost mutinous expression. Ada, before her tragedy, had been neither vacant nor fiery. Just a sweet, pliable girl with an occasional tendency to speak her mind to her brother.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to reconcile for a moment just who this new young woman before him actually was.

“Ordering your thoughts, have you?” he repeated.

Ordering his thoughts was just what he’d been trying to do, but the book in front of him was still at the same page as it had been an hour before, and Hugh was as far advanced in deciding what to do as he had been when…

When his life had been turned upside down. He blinked again. Good Lord, he couldn’t work himself out.

“Hugh, are you listening to me?”

He nodded.

“When I first got here, I thought some mad impulse had taken possession of you to lease a house like this. Why, there’s nothing here for miles around.”

He thought he wouldn’t push the point that Wentworth lived only one hour’s walk north. Not when Ada seemed more in possession of her faculties than she had in a very long time.

No, he’d not bring up Wentworth ever again, for the more time passed, the more he realized that pursuing Wentworth was not going to achieve satisfaction for his sister.

Right now, she looked exactly as any unspoiled young woman of his acquaintance might look, and he was certain she could get away with her sins and make a fine marriage were it not for Ada’s own insistence that she never intended looking at another man again.

For the hundredth time, Hugh wished he’d not sought the counsel of their Aunt Belcher who, while taking matters in hand, and looking after Ada before and after the unfortunate business, considered Ada a disgrace and never lost an opportunity to tell the girl her thoughts.

“I’ve been talking to Phoebe—”

“Why?”

She raised her chin. “I know what she is to you, Hugh. Don’t pretend I’m the pristine innocent I was before…” her eyes flashed before she continued, “…I met Mr Wentworth.”

“Don’t speak of him, Ada.”

And don’t speak of Phoebe like that either, he thought angrily as his sister’s words rang in his ears: “what she is to you…” What was she to Hugh? A sweet, immoral creature whose freely offered charms were a marvelous diversion?

No, she was more than that. For the past hour, he’d been staring at the blank pages of a book, trying to come up with some practical reason to extend his tenure in this house where he could be free to follow his heart. In London, he’d have to squire his sister around; pay calls on various notables. In short, he’d have less time to spend with Phoebe, and right now, that’s all he wanted to do.

Their lovemaking still had that illicit edge to it. He’d taken her in joyous impulsiveness in the still room, the parlor, and finally beneath the spreading branches of a beech forest. The only place they’d not consummated their passion was in a proper bed. God, he wanted a whole night with her. He wanted to wake up with her beside him and know she’d be there when he turned in for the night. Like a properly sanctioned union.

Sanctioned? That was not a desire to articulate when it could never be. He shook his head to clear the nonsense from it. Phoebe might be clever at pretending to be a lady, but he must always remember that she wasn’t.

“Like you said, Hugh, Phoebe is an utterly marvelous actress. Why, were it not for her dress, I could have imagined she really was a fine lady. So my idea is this, Hugh. Are you listening?”

Hugh focused his attention on Ada once more. Her talk was extraordinary. Well-brought-up young girls like his sister should know nothing about women like Phoebe.

“What is your idea, Ada?”

“If you stop sounding so condescending, I might tell you.”

He resisted the impulse to reprove her for speaking to her brother in such a fashion, for it was pleasing she was finally breaking free of the shame and sorrow that had made her a shadow of the girl she’d been.

“Wentworth was married before I knew him. Yes, you have every reason to look shocked. I was when I learned it.” Ada sent him a look of triumph as she put her hands on the desk and leaned close to him. “Mr Wentworth is married, and now he is Lord Cavanaugh. I imagine he’s doing all he can to keep his first marriage secret since clearly it’s one he wishes dissolved.”

“Good Lord, Ada, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“If you remember, Hugh, I couldn’t talk to you about anything, much less Mr Wentworth after what he did to me.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, I know you felt partly responsible. After all, you’ve tried to teach me right from wrong after Mama and Papa died, but when it came to Mr Wentworth, I lost sight of all common sense. He was so utterly charming and believable. I truly thought we would be married. But then I learned to my horror he was married already, only it was too late, and I couldn’t tell you. But now I know it’s important to find out who his wife is so she can announce it to the world. She’s probably some low-class woman he wishes to keep in ignorance of his new status. He probably abandoned her years ago, though she could be dead, of course.”

“But what has Phoebe to do with all this?”

Ada smiled. It was the first time Hugh had seen the glow that transformed her from a rather wan little creature into an extremely pretty young woman. If she’d glowed like this for Mr Wentworth, Hugh could well imagine the effect she’d have had on him. He clenched his fists into tight balls.

“Hugh, Phoebe is a marvelous actress and clearly able to convince anyone she’s a lady. As a servant, she’d be able to question Mr Wentworth’s staff on their level. But she’d also be able to deport herself in good company. I feel sure she’s the best person to discover who it was Mr Wentworth married all those years ago. Please, Hugh?”

“I don’t know what you’re pleading for me to do, Ada, when you’ve just said Phoebe is in the best position to find out about Wentworth’s wife, though you know I don’t approve of you having anything to do with her.” He felt a traitor, but it was the truth.

“You need to give Phoebe some money and some clothes, so she can do what she needs to do to discover Wentworth’s wife and then expose her to the world. Phoebe only has two dresses.”

“And one of them cost me a pretty penny.”

“You had to give her something in return, though,” he sister said reasonably and without a blush. “I’m well aware that everything in this world is a trade. And now I’m trading with you: do as I ask and I’ll meekly return to Aunt Belcher’s and let you live your life as you choose.”

Hugh shook his head, not in the least liking to hear his sister talk like this. “I don’t think Phoebe will be too enamored of the idea. She’s afraid.”

Ada sighed. “I know. She didn’t want to do it when I asked her, but I thought you’d be able to persuade her. Offer her something. Dresses, money. A woman like that would never say no to such enticements.”

“I’ll thank you not to speak of her in that manner, Ada,” Hugh said grimly, not liking to hear his own uncharitable reflections articulated by his sister. “Regardless of what you might think of me, Ada, I am trying to do what’s best for Phoebe, just as I once did for you. She has no family or friends and no funds since she fled Blinley Manor. I can understand she’d be afraid of having anything to do with the household after witnessing what she did.”

“You mean the terrible murder Lady Cavanaugh committed? I’ve heard it’s not the first time Lady Cavanaugh tried to kill her husband. I know Phoebe is full of loyal vengeance, but the duchess sounds like a terrible woman. The worst kind! She was immoral and devious, and she had numerous lovers behind her husband’s back. Not just Wentworth. Don’t look at me like that. I overheard the servants talking about it. She will hang when they find her, won’t she?”

Hugh felt uncomfortable in the face of his sister’s blind acceptance of Lady Cavanaugh’s guilt, considering Phoebe’s insistence that her mistress had been wronged.

But then, Phoebe’s faithfulness was one of the reasons he loved her.

He hoped she’d be as faithful a mistress to him as she had been a faithful servant to Lady Cavanaugh.

“So you’ll offer Phoebe something to do as you ask?” Ada was like a dog with a bone. “Tell her you’ll buy her a necklace. She won’t be able to resist that. Women like that need to take what they can get, when they can, so they have some security for their future, since she knows she can’t marry you.”

“Stop!” Hugh put up his hand and strove for forbearance.

Surprised, Ada looked at him.

Hugh closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “You’ve just said Phoebe is faithful. It’s true. She’s a good woman, and I don’t like to hear you speak in this manner. You should not!”

“It’s only the truth.”

“Phoebe does not need to shore up her future for I have promised to protect her, look after her. We are going to London at the end of the week, and you are going to Aunt Belcher’s.” He sent her a warning look when it looked like she might interrupt. “After that, I don’t want you ever to mention Phoebe again.”

“You’re getting rid of her?”

“Lord, no!” He was surprised at what a jolt his sister’s question occasioned. “To the contrary, I’m very much looking forward to the future we will fashion together in the anonymity of London, but she is not someone you are to mention, ever again, for you should know nothing about Phoebe and women like her.”

“Goodness, Hugh, you do sound fierce. Does she feel as strongly about you in return?”

Hugh wished he could have responded with greater alacrity. He certainly wished he’d not hesitated so long that his sister eyed him with skeptical satisfaction.

The truth was, he’d not yet won Phoebe’s heart. It shouldn’t matter. But it did.