Josie heard the faint rattle of the doorknob and what might possibly have been the scrape of a hairpin against metal, but she kept climbing as quickly as she could, not surprised to feel the heat of Phin’s body directly behind her. That bothered her a bit, but thankfully, the climb was a short one, the ladder delivering them rather neatly to a small mezzanine stocked with still more books.
For a moment, Josie paused to settle her skirts and allow Phin to hop off the ladder and onto the floor next to her. Looking around, she saw the general direction that she believed he was headed, but before she could take more than a step, he reached down, scooped her into his arms and strode swiftly toward the far end of the mezzanine where a small set of steps spiraled upward into what was probably some sort of tower room, though she really hoped he was not planning to go up there.
Heat, warm and fuzzy, shot through Josie at the continued close contact with Phin’s body, but she worked to keep a clear head. Now was not the time to get all missish and swoon simply because a man had her in his arms. She was not that sort.
Still, this whole carrying her business was rather nice and made all sorts of thoroughly improper thoughts come to mind. She would not complain about that.
For a moment, Josie thought Phin might put her down as they approached a wall that was really more of a large window where moonlight now spilled into the room, giving everything a rather soft glow. Instead, he charged ahead, up the short set of curving steps to a second mezzanine, until they were looped back around, directly above the ladder – now two levels higher than where they started – to where the floor became extremely narrow. Wide enough for only one person, actually.
Up here, there was nothing more than a wide window seat at the foot of another enormous window that looked out over Lady Darby’s elegant rose garden. And, of course, more moonlight.
To Josie’s surprise, Phin placed her down gently on the window seat’s cushion before he turned to grab something dark that had been stashed in the corner. By this time, he must have concluded that she wasn’t about to shriek or carry on like a fool, for he simply held a single finger to his lips, indicating that he wanted her to be quiet. In the silvery moonlight, he was more of a silhouette than anything, but she could see him clearly enough to take his meaning.
Then he pointed to the window seat and made a sweeping gesture with his free hand. Again, she understood. They were going to hide here until the people below left the library. Nodding, Josie gathered her skirts around her, and when he looked down at the small, vacant spot beside her with a questioning look, she scooted over to make more room for him.
Josie did very nearly gasp in shock when he placed a hand on her foot in order to get her to scrunch up a bit more, as the window seat was only designed for one person and a bit of a tight squeeze with the two of them, but somehow she managed to hold her tongue. Then, as if he did this sort of thing every day of his life, Phin uncurled a blanket – the dark object he had picked up from the corner – and tossed it over them, pulling her into his arms in the process so that they made as small of a lump as possible beneath the scratch fabric.
Just as the blanket finished settling around them, Josie heard the high, screeching, and utterly unmistakable voice of Lady Margaretta Kerns, and she immediately went still in Phin’s suddenly tight embrace. Oh, Lord above! If they were discovered, that would be the end of life as Josie knew it – not to mention the end of any chance of a decent match.
“Lord Fullbridge? Are you here?” The debutante’s voice bordered on a whine.
“Margaretta! I told you I saw Lord Fullbridge enter a room three doors down from here and to the left! Not the right!” That could only be Lady Margaretta’s mother, Lady Temins. She was a gorgon in her own right and just the sort to make a situation far worse than it needed to be.
She was also known to believe she was right in all things, something that might help both Josie and Phin just now.
Given that Josie was now pressed tightly against Phin’s rather enormous form, she had to wonder if Lady Temins was blind. How could she not know where Phin had gone? He was hardly a small man!
Up close, Phin was far larger than Josie had imagined – and she had even danced with the man! In comparison to someone like Josie, Phin was enormous! How anyone could miss him in Lady Darby’s narrow hallways – even if they were rather dimly lit – was beyond her comprehension.
“He came in here, Mama!” the young woman insisted, a petulant note in her voice. “There are hidden spaces in here, you know. He must be in one of them!”
As her back was currently pressed hard against his front, Josie felt Phin stop breathing for what seemed like an eternity. For the young woman was correct. Lady Darby was renowned for both her love of both mystery and gothic novels and the hidden chambers and alcoves she had built into her homes all across England, including the stately manor house that served as the family’s country seat not too far from Josie’s home in Sharpe-On-Edgecombe.
Josie could also feel something hard and long prod her bottom – Phin’s erection. He was aroused. By her.
That was interesting to note, and at another time, Josie would think further upon the matter. For now, though? It was imperative that she remain as still as possible.
“Well, do you see him?” There was clear exasperation in Lady Temins’ voice mixed with the sound of shuffling as bodies moved about down below.
“Well…no.” Far beneath them, Josie could hear the shuffle of slipped feet on the carpet, indicating that Lady Margaretta was picking up the pace in her search for Phin. “I had thought he might be in one of the upper window seats, however. I can just pop up and see.”
This time, it was Josie’s breathing that ceased for a moment. From the ground, it was unlikely that Margaretta could see them huddled beneath the blanket. Other than the moonlight, which was now slowly disappearing behind a cloud, the room was mostly dark, and, as the blanket was a forest green color, they probably blended into the shadows. However, if the young woman climbed the ladder and checked the reading nooks for herself? The large lump in the middle of the far window seat would be rather obvious.
“Climb a ladder? In that gown? At you mad? It’s a LaVallier and cost your father a bloody fortune! He would have my head!” Lady Temins was screeching even louder now, and, had she been able, Josie would have covered her ears. “Use your head for once, Margaretta! If the man is here, I doubt he is running about climbing ladders and such! He’s far too proper for that sort of thing, as you should be!”
“But Mama!” The whine was back in the young woman’s voice, and it was all Josie could do not to cringe.
“But nothing!” the older woman snapped. “If you are to marry a fine and proper gentleman like Lord Fullbridge, you will learn to curb your heathen ways! He would not tolerate such foolishness in a wife, and I will not tolerate it in my daughter either!”
At that, Josie wanted to laugh, for while she didn’t know Phin well, she was now certain he was far from the stiff and proper prig that the gossip rags often portrayed. Even though he might occasionally act like one.
“Yes, Mama.” There was a sigh and another shuffling of feet, this time towards the library door.
“There is my good girl.” There was a sound as if someone’s hand was being patted. “Now come along. We must fix your hair and your gown so that when Lord Fullbridge returns to the ballroom, the two of you can dance a waltz and look the very picture of a proper and elegant couple. He will accept nothing less than a perfectly put-together bride, as you and I both know, since he himself is always perfectly turned out.”
At that, Josie bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood, but it was either that or laugh and give herself and Phin away in their hiding place far above the library floor.
At present, the so-called “perfectly turned out” gentleman was sitting on a dusty cushion beneath a blanket no one had likely used in an age in a window nook that probably hadn’t been visited in a year or more, all while looking a rumpled mess.
Perfectly turned out, indeed!
Shaking with silent laughter, Josie stilled when she felt herself being pulled back even tighter against a hard, well-muscled chest that was vibrating rather violently. After a moment, though, she realized that the vibrations were only Phin doing his best to stop from laughing as well. Apparently, he found their predicament – and quite possibly Lady Margaretta’s words – just as humorous as she did.
Josie should run away now, she supposed. She should leap up and follow Lady Temins out the door with her daughter and risk a scandal rather than being caught out with Phin. This interlude or whatever it was, wasn’t proper, no matter how wonderful the heat from Phin’s body felt or how much she was enjoying this moment.
Except that she didn’t run or give them away. Instead, however improper, Josie allowed herself to shake in silent laughter right along with Phin Trew, all the while enjoying the heat of his body and the feel of him pressed against her.
Finally, when the room had been silent for a moment that had stretched into minutes, Phin slowly drew the blanket down off their heads, and together, they peered around the now-silent library. Together, they climbed down the series of steps and ladders in silence until they reached the main floor, though Phin was still dragging the musty old blanket behind him.
When she gave him a speaking look, he glanced at his hand and then dropped the blanket with a rather sheepish expression on his face. As if he was embarrassed.
“I brought the blanket in case we needed to hide again. That was far closer than I would like,” Phin said as he helped Josie to straighten her skirts, suddenly all proper and poised gentleman once more. “And that was far more ungentlemanly than I had ever imagined I would be with a lady.” He offered her a stiff bow, which was at distinct odds with his exceedingly rumpled appearance. Not to mention at odds with what they had just done. “Lady Josephine. You have my apologies.”
Josie snorted as she tried to stop herself from laughing. She couldn’t help herself. No matter how unladylike she seemed.
“Do you find this situation humorous?” Just then, Phin sounded very much like a stiff and proper prig.
In response, Josie raised an eyebrow at him just as she had done that night back at Lady Chillton’s. “Truly?”
“I am always a gentleman.” Phin attempted to straighten his coat, which somehow only made the wrinkles worse. “Or I try to be.”
“That is not how I recall things, your grace. Also, not to put too fine of a point on the matter, but at the moment, you look as though you have just come from a Covent Garden brothel.” When his jaw nearly dropped to the floor, Josie shrugged. “Come, Lord Fullbridge.” She made certain to lace her voice with heavy sarcasm when she used his title. “Did you forget that night at Lady Chillton’s so quickly?”
For a moment, Josie thought she had pushed Phin too far, but then, his face eased into a smile, and he laughed quietly, just as he had in the window nook. “No, but I wondered if you had, my lady.”
Josie looked at him askance and snorted again, this time not caring what he thought of her. This was who she was. He could take her or leave her. “Hardly. After all, that night was my first London ball, not to mention my first waltz. Those are the sorts of things a lady remembers forever.” She paused. “It is even more memorable if one’s father causes a scandal in the middle of that same ball and is mistaken for a Bedlamite.”
Phin winced. “Point taken, my lady.”
“Josie,” she corrected softly, still wondering if Lady Margaretta and her mother were lurking about. “You referred to me thus that evening, and I’d like it if you did so again. I think we are past formalities, don’t you? Even if we were not before, I should think we are now.” She pointed to the blanket that lay in a heap on the floor. “Those were rather close quarters, wouldn’t you say?”
Phin nodded, his lips twitching in a smile. “They were, indeed.” Then he strode over to the library door and locked it with a firm click. When she looked at him with raised eyebrows again, he shrugged. “The blanket was old and musty, and I have no wish to hide under it again, lest I start sneezing and cannot stop. Which would, of course, draw even more attention to us. Better to be safe than sorry.”
Josie nodded in agreement. “Still, that hidden nook was rather quick thinking of you. I confess that I was not nearly so clear-headed.”
“Well, you were in here already hiding when I barged in and disturbed you. That hardly lends itself to clear-headedness.” Phin made another attempt to shake out his jacket, this one making him look marginally better, though not by much. “Why were you hiding in here, anyway? This is a ball. I thought you enjoyed balls. Lord knows, my sister does. Also, you did seem to have a rather fine time at Lady Chillton’s.”
This was more the Phin Trew that Josie remembered from that night, which puzzled her a bit. It was as if his real personality played hide and seek at times. He tried to be proper and stiff at all times, but that wasn’t his true nature. Rather, it seemed that false propriety was what he assumed was expected of him while, at heart, he was much more of a rogue.
Pretending to be something one was not was certainly something Josie understood all too well. Though she also realized this man likely didn’t know that about her. In time, if they continued their association, he might, but then, how likely was that? After all, they were not allowed to speak with each other. Or look at each other. Or even acknowledge each other.
With a sigh, Josie sat down on a nearby chair with a soft whump. “I did enjoy balls. I do enjoy them. Particularly that night. Then again, that was before the gossips decided that I must be involved in my father’s death and am some sort of conniving harlot with designs on my distant cousin whom I’ve never ever met.” She snorted. “He could be an ogre for all I know.”
Slowly, Phin sank down beside her onto a nearby settee. Here, now, was the same closeness she remembered from Lady Chillton’s. “I confess that I had been wondering about that. About you.” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “Or rather how you were faring. I do not know about you, but I find that I’m rather tired of my name being splashed across every gossip rag in the city for no good reason.”
Josie nodded, more than a little relieved at both his words and his manner. She had grown tired of the wretched stories as well, but she had never imagined that Lord Fullbridge – no, Phin – would feel the same.
“Yes, I do grow tired of the constant gossip. In that, we are the same. I also felt that, if anyone would understand my irritation with the entire mess, it would be you.” She closed her eyes and sighed before straightening her spine and meeting his gaze once more. “I wished to speak to you about it, as I believed you were the only one who might understand, but the Bloody Duke…”
“Forbid you from coming near me?” Josie knew her eyes must have widened in shock because Phin nodded grimly. “He said much the same to me. Mentioned lopping off a body part or two, as well, if I even tried.”
“The duke informed me that he has other plans for me.” Josie drew in a shaky breath. “He has asked his sister, Lady Radcliffe, to find me a husband.”
“He has suggested that I hurry along my search for a wife. Now.” Josie was not completely surprised by that bit of news. “Someone he feels is appropriate for me. One that has no gossip attached to her.”
For a long moment, Josie let the silence stretch out between them, for what else was there to say? Not to mention she did have the answer to her questions about how Phin was faring with the gossip – not much better than she, apparently.
“I am sorry,” Josie finally offered. She had never apologized for how they had come to know each other. It was time that she did, she supposed. Especially since when she left this room, she had no idea if they would ever speak to each other again.
“For what?” Phin sounded genuinely confused, and Josie lifted her head to meet his eyes.
“My father. If not for him, you would not be pushed to find a wife. There would not be any gossip.”
&n
bsp; At that, Phin chuckled dryly. “I was looking for a suitable wife long before your cousin Penny came to town. Apparently, when I was in my cups a few months ago, I even announced that I was looking for a new wife with excellent breeding hips. So, I think I’ve managed to cause a great deal of gossip on my own in that regard, thank you very much.”
He shrugged. “Not to mention that everyone believes I am a stuffy, overly-protective jerk who treats women like fragile glass objects meant to be admired and not touched, largely thanks to my former father-in-law who also believed until his dying day that I killed his daughter, even though she died in childbirth at the hands of an incompetent midwife that he hired.” Phin paused and winked at Josie. “That makes two women I am blamed for driving to their early deaths, just in case you were keeping track.” Then he smiled that same bewitching smile from the night they had first met.
“I wasn’t, but I shall make a note of it now.” Unable to stop herself, Josie smiled back.
“See that you do. Important stuff, that.” This time, Phin winked at her, and something inside of her tightened and then immediately loosened so that she felt all fizzy inside.
A small smile played across Josie’s lips at his words. She was enjoying this quiet, teasing time with Phin when she could be wholly herself. She doubted that would be possible with another gentleman. Then again, there was no other gentleman that she shared such a complex history with either.
“Thank you, Phin.” Josie wished to reach out and take his hand, but she didn’t dare. That had been acceptable when she was a child, and perhaps that night at Lady Chillton’s, but no longer. “Strange as this evening has been, I am suddenly feeling better. About everything.”
“As am I.” He cast her a long glance. “Is that odd, considering that we are each the source of the other’s misery? Odd that we can be so truly ourselves with each other?”
Loving the Wrong Lord Page 5