“She told me she believes me to be a wealth-seeking harlot whom she does not trust.”
“Forgive me, Phoebe. If I had known she had any intention of speaking to you in such a manner, I would have ensured the conversation never took place. Rest assured, my love, it will not be she who decides whether or not we are married.”
“But what if she does object?”
“Let her object. My darling, if the only way to marry you was to travel to Egypt and say our vows before the pyramids, then so it would be. Nothing will stop me from marrying you. Not even the Duchess.”
“She truly despises me.”
“Hateful people always find people to hate. She was born with a great disliking for the world and all its inhabitants already within her. We must simply learn to adapt to her hatefulness however we are able.”
“But—”
Owen cut her off by placing a finger upon her lips. “Quiet now, my love. I have something for you that will put the Duchess far from your mind.”
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a little wooden box. He opened it to reveal a ring inside. The ring was gold and in its mount, it held a rose-cut diamond.
“Phoebe, this ring is a token of my love. I offer it as a promise that I will always protect and provide for you. I give it to you now with my solemn vow that we will marry. It is the greatest desire of my life that you should be my wife.”
Owen smiled when he saw the happy tears that sprung to Phoebe’s eyes. She threw herself toward him to embrace him with such force that the boat rocked upon the water and almost engulfed them.
She kissed him deeply. “Owen, it is beautiful, but truly, I’m not worthy of diamonds. A ring was not necessary.”
“The ring is but a physical representation of my promise. The promise that you have all my heart is what I bring to you. And to be loved entirely, properly, and endlessly is precisely a devotion of which you are worthy, my love.”
“I love you, Owen.”
“And I you.” He reached across to wipe away her tears with his thumb. “Now think no more of the Duchess. You have my word that we will be wed.”
“Lie with me.” She lay back and fixed him with a yearnful gaze.
Owen lay in the boat with his lower legs upon the bench. Phoebe nestled up against his chest, curled into a ball. She raised her hand in the air to see the ring glinting in the sun.
“When we lie like this, I must confess my thoughts turn to the marriage bed.”
It was the first time Owen had ever spoken of sexual desire to Phoebe and no sooner were the words from his mouth than he regretted saying them. Phoebe was a lady, and he had spoken to her like a harlot.
He quickly tried to make amends. “Forgive me. That was highly inappropriate.”
“Then I am inappropriate, too.” She lifted herself upon one elbow and offered him a seductive smile. “Now we are engaged, I can tell you how often I have imagined your skin against mine.” She closed her eyes as if imagining it and drew in a deep sigh of contentment. When she opened them, she ran a finger slowly down his chest. “We’ve broken so many taboos, Owen. I cannot wait to break the last.”
* * *
The Duke looked up from his reading when Owen arrived.
“Son. I wasn’t expecting a visit today.”
“I have something to say, and damn it, I will be heard.”
The Duchess put down her own book and sat up with a mildly amused expression on her face. “You have the attention of the room.”
Owen raised a finger to her in anger, pointing at her in rage. “If you ever threaten my fiancée again, Mother, I will leave this borough. I will leave everything behind, and you will not see me again.”
“Threat? What threat?” the Duke turned to his wife with horror on his face. “Tabitha, what have you done?”
“Only what any good mother would do.”
“She confronted Lady Phoebe and told her that if she didn’t call off the engagement, then she would object at the final banns and shame her in front of the congregation.”
The Duke clenched his teeth together, his hands curling into fists. His voice became low and dangerous; a growl. “Is this true?”
She simply straightened her back and shrugged with nonchalance. “It is no idle threat, either. I have no intention of letting this marriage be completed. I held my tongue when it was Evan, but I will not make the same mistake a second time.”
“What is wrong with you?” The Duke’s voice was filled with icy hatred and disbelief. “I will send you to the madhouse, so help me God. Your disobedience and your hatefulness sickens me.”
“Your indifference sickens me!” The Duchess slammed her book down on the table at her side. “One son has perished due to the lack of foresight from the Earl. Now you send another son in good faith to his family. He is reckless and is running our fortune into the ground!”
“And you are driving our son away from us!” The Duke took to his feet and put his arm around Owen’s shoulders to usher him toward a bench where they sat together. He pleaded with him. “You are the only son that I have remaining to me, Owen. I beg you do not leave this place due to your mother’s interference.”
Owen held his head up high. “I mean it, Father. If Lady Phoebe and I cannot live in peace for fear of her—” He pointed at the Duchess. “—cursing us and trying to shame us at every turn, then we will go elsewhere. I have means enough to afford a good life on my own.”
“There is no need. You have had my blessing from the start, my son. You have the blessing of the Earl. Forget your mother.”
“Forget your mother, indeed!” the Duchess seethed. “Perhaps if I was not downtrodden with such disrespect my words may have been heeded before now and Evan would still be alive.”
“Quiet!” the Duke shouted. He turned back to Owen with a pleading expression. “You have the support of two households.”
“I do not need her blessing, but I need her compliance,” Owen replied. He turned to the Duchess. “If you sabotage our every attempt at being unified, then I will have no choice but to leave this place.”
“Let me propose another idea,” the Duchess said. “You are taking Lady Phoebe as a wife simply because she was betrothed to your brother. You feel duty-bound. But my son, there are other prominent ladies to consider.”
“I don’t need to consider anything, Mother.”
“Listen to me, Owen. Let me arrange a ball to present you to some other young ladies who might be more suitable for you. If meeting them does not make you reconsider, then I will accept your decision, knowing that you have fully considered all alternatives. However, if you do not allow me this last attempt to save you, then I will object to the very end, as I believe you are making a grave mistake in marrying her.”
Owen scowled. “You believe some party will change my mind? The banns have already been read, Mother!”
“The banns are but a notice of intention. The banns are not a marriage license nor are they the exchange of vows. A gentleman has the right to change his mind.”
“A gentleman has the right to make his own decisions.”
“Your own decision it shall be, but after you have explored all your options, my son.”
Owen threw his hand in the air in a gesture of defeat. “Throw your party. It won’t change my mind. But once I have attended, there will be an end to this nonsense. You have given your threat and now you have received mine. Stand between Lady Phoebe and I once more, and you will never see us again.”
* * *
“The ultimatum has been laid down. I believe she will leave us in peace as soon as this ball is done.”
Phoebe struggled to hold back her tears. She understood why Owen had agreed to the ball but she felt a deep and burning resentment toward the Duchess who was hoping she might make his eyes stray.
“I suppose it is but a small price to pay for peace.”
“I know it is unjust, my love, but all my mother wants is to feel that her concerns have b
een registered. This ball will give her no further reason to object. She cannot claim that I have made a decision based on any kind of ignorance.”
“She knows you are not ignorant of anything, Owen. She’s simply hoping she’ll be able to change your mind by presenting you with a better offer.”
Owen lifted her chin and caught her eyes. “There is nobody better, Phoebe. You are the only lady whom I dream of. You have occupied every waking thought since I was a young gentleman. Nobody else could fill my life so completely.”
“You really told the Duke and Duchess that should she object to the banns, we would disappear?”
“Of course.”
“And if she does object at the final banns?”
“I would be willing to disappear with you anywhere in the world.”
Phoebe found herself smiling. There was something incredibly romantic about the prospect of eloping with Owen and starting anew somewhere they were unknown.
“If we were to run away together, who would we become?”
“We could become anybody we wanted to.”
“I should like to be a florist. It is not a proper occupation for a lady of my status, but I think I would love it so. To spend each day surrounded by the beauty and scent of flowers, selling roses to gentlemen so that they might present them to their loves.”
“If your heart desired it, then so it would be.”
“And you?”
“I would be the lawyer I believe I am meant to be. I would advocate for those who have no one to advocate for them, for those whom the law has unjustly persecuted due to their status in the world. I would seek to make equal what has been crooked for so long.”
They were at Caddock Hill, lying side by side in the grass, their fingers intertwined. It was such a pleasant way to while away the afternoon, far from prying eyes and complete in each other’s company. The clouds today were the whitest of white, floating through a clear blue sky.
“Who would be our friends?”
“Well, as you are a florist, you would be well acquainted with the butcher’s daughter.”
“But, of course.”
“On a Sunday, you and she would take long walks through the countryside with picnics. You would come back with armfuls of wildflowers to add to your shop. We would, of course, grow our own roses. We would have fields upon fields of rose bushes.”
“It only makes sense.” Phoebe smiled at their playful imaginings. “And you would be very close with the judge’s wayward son.”
“Wayward son?”
“Yes. Edgar is very wayward. He spends all his earnings at brothels and in card games, but he has the most interesting stories of people he has seen indulging with the ladies of pleasure and the brawls that took place over lost money and cheating at the card table.”
“Naturally, we would be the closest of friends.”
“Naturally.”
They caught each other’s eyes and fell into fits of laughter together. Owen lifted himself over her. He cast a shadow across her face; the sunlight creating a halo around his head. Grass fell from his hair as he moved.
She stroked his cheek softly. “I do not tell you often enough how handsome you are.”
“Quite a compliment coming from the most beautiful lady I’ve ever met.”
She pulled him down into a deep, tender kiss. His mouth was warm against hers; she had become familiar with the taste of him. Sometimes at night, as she lay alone, she’d imagine her fingers running through his dark hair like this.
Her thoughts turned back to their prior conversation and she sighed. “Oh, but wouldn’t it be easier to not have any status in this world? No duty, no cares.”
“Where there is no duty there is often no money,” Owen advised her. “But to live ordinary simple lives with a secret wealth would be divine.”
“We’d eat pork pies by our front fence and play in the lake with no boots on.”
“We’d stay out through the night stargazing.”
“And we’d tame a stray cat to be our pet.”
Owen smiled at her fondly. “It would be quite the life.”
“Quite the life indeed.” She rolled onto her front and lifted herself on one elbow so that she might better look at him. “All of a sudden the thought of the Duchess making her objections does not seem so frightful. I believe life on our own would be a happy one.”
“Whatever happens, my love, I promise you, we will be happy.”
They kissed again, pressing their bodies against each other as their lips joined. The clothes between their skin felt so thin in that moment.
Chapter 22
It was Lord Denmoore and his wife who was hosting this evening’s dinner party, in attendance of which were Phoebe, Owen, Roger, and of course, Lord Denmoore’s sister, Lady Ann.
Phoebe and Owen had hesitated to accept the invitation from Lord Denmoore, knowing that the Lady Ann would be present, but Phoebe had ultimately convinced Owen to accompany her to the event.
“Lady Ann has been so accommodating toward us. She sacrificed her bond to you in order that we might pursue our love for one another. She deserves our full respect for her grace and dignity in the matter. Why, if she had not willingly stepped back, this marriage might never have been possible.”
“I swore to her we would not end up together,” Owen had responded. “I feel awfully guilty for acting precisely in the manner she predicted.”
“As do I. I assured her that nobody could ever take Evan’s place and that you and I would never pursue a romantic relationship, yet here we are, engaged. Truthfully, I should like to see her again to know how she is faring. We owe her a great debt of gratitude. Perhaps there are some gentlemen students you know with whom you could acquaint her.”
Ultimately, Phoebe had won the argument and now they were in attendance at Lord Denmoore’s supper.
Lord Denmoore’s home was far grander than Owen’s had been two years previously when he had last hosted the very same group. The dining room was large enough to contain the most decadent and long oak table. Phoebe imagined it belonging in a kings’ palace in the realm of knights long ago.
All of his decorations and furnishings were of the highest quality and when the meal was set before them, it was truly sumptuous.
Owen and Phoebe sat together on one side of the table with Roger and Lady Ann opposite them. At the head of the table on one side sat Lord Denmoore himself, and at the other end sat the wife he had taken recently, a newly-anointed Marchioness, Lady Grace Denmoore.
The first order of conversation was congratulations all around for the nuptials that had taken place and were upcoming amongst them.
Lady Ann was the first to give her well wishes and Phoebe could have cried for how sincere they were. It was the greatest relief to her for she had feared there was no way Lady Ann could do anything but despise her and Owen for having been drawn together just as she had said they would.
Rather, Lady Ann reached across the table in delight to take Phoebe’s hands in hers with genuine happiness in her expression.
“My dearest Lady Phoebe,” she said with a warm smile. “How good it is to see you. You are glowing. I heard the banns being read for you and Lord Boltmon. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Oh Lady Ann, I am so glad to hear you say that. Lord Boltmon and I have both carried the greatest weight of guilt upon our shoulders for the way events unfolded. I’ve thought of you often. Please, tell me, how are you?”
“Wonderful!” Lady Ann beamed, her face radiant with joy. “I myself am now engaged.”
“You are?” Phoebe gasped with joy. “Who is the fortunate gentleman?”
“James Carlisle, The Earl of Langborough.” She opened up a locket at her neck and leaned forward to open it before Phoebe and show her the tiny portrait painted within. “Lord Langborough had this miniature commissioned so that I might carry him with me. Isn’t he handsome?”
The portrait depicted a gentleman far older than Lady Ann. In fact, Phoebe had been acquaint
ed with the Earl of Langborough once or twice through her father’s circles. He was at least in his fifties; retired from the military.
Lady Ann saw her surprise and quickly continued. “We were not introduced with any intention of courtship. I simply met him by chance at a ball hosted by one of my mother’s acquaintances. He invited me to dance and then we continued to talk through the evening.”
“And you found you had a connection with him?”
“Most unexpectedly, but profoundly,” Lady Ann said. “At first, I had never imagined that there would be romance between us. I had enjoyed his company but expected nothing more. Why would I? Firstly, he is an Earl, and secondly, the gentleman is older than my father would have been were he alive today.”
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