by Wendy Vella
This room was hot, smelled of hundreds of different scents and the decorations were ostentatious and silly. Standing beside Livvy, she wondered how her pregnant sister could cope with the smell of so many bodies in a small space as it was making her nauseous. Pressing her back to the wall, she stood on her toes to accommodate a man juggling two glasses who was trying to pass. Hopefully, Hannah or Alex would arrive soon and she could chat to them. No, not Alex. They could only exchange social chatter for fear his brothers learned what he was doing.
“Stop frowning. You look fierce, Phoebe.”
Easing her expression at her sister’s prompting, Phoebe ignored the pang of guilt at keeping Alexander Hetherington’s involvement in their business a secret. He had a right to do as he wished, and if his interest lay in fashion then who was she to fault him, as hers laid in fashion and riding tricks on horseback. She shuddered at the thought of how Lord Levermarch would react if he found out, as she was sure he was not a man who would like his brother investing in the fashion industry. She felt a bit uncomfortable deceiving him, yet Alex had made her and Hannah promise they would say nothing to anyone about his involvement. He had also reiterated several times that he wanted Viscount Levermarch to remain unaware.
“Why must people say they are having a little gathering and then set about squashing a hundred people into a space big enough for fifty?”
Livvy patted her shoulder. “The music will start soon, dear, and then some of the guests will take seats and others will find amusements.”
Looking up, she noted a huge cherub suspended from the ceiling. Around its neck was a pink satin bow.
“Does Lady Harrington really believe that a cherub with a pink bow is a point of difference?”
“You were in fine spirits this afternoon, Phoebe, and now you appear out of sorts tonight. Care to tell me why? It cannot just be the crush, because even though it is your first season, you have experienced many of them already and would usually be giggling at that ridiculous cherub, not scowling, which by the way is not flattering even on you.”
Phoebe wasn’t actually sure why she was out of sorts when previously she had been so happy. Perhaps it was that she was filled with plans and wanted to be in her room putting them on paper, or that she had no wish to converse with shallow people as it seemed such a waste of time now she had better things to fill it with. Of course she would also have to face Lord Levermarch again and she had been petty this morning, as he had said she was, blaming him for her fall was unfair, when in all honesty it had not been his fault. Had her balance been better, she would have been able to handle the distraction of him calling out to her.
She had expected him to yell at her yet he had not. Instead, he had been gentle. Phoebe could still feel his hands touching her wrist, his long warm fingers stroking her skin. His intent had been to help her if he could, and she had been rude to him, which meant she should probably apologize again, and this time it should be sincere. Phoebe hated apologizing.
“Phoebe, you have not answered me. Why are you grumpy?”
“Why are you haranguing your sister, darling?” Will appeared before them. He moved closer to Livvy and eased her away from the wall slightly so he could slip his arm around her. Phoebe had noticed that they always seemed to be touching each other.
“I was merely asking why she was so out of sorts, Will. See the frown line there?” Livvy added pointing to Phoebe’s forehead. “That means something’s bothering her.”
Now she was subjected to two sets of steady eyes, one gray, the other cinnamon, both equally as unnerving.
“Is pointing at a person’s forehead considered polite when in company?” Phoebe said, stalling.
“She’s not about to give in, Phoebe, you and I both know that, so I would just confess and be done with it. Besides which, you spent the afternoon laughing and singing in your room, so this mood change is quite sudden.”
Phoebe knew Will was right, so she sighed loudly to let her sister know she was not pleased.
“I’m just tired, Livvy.” Phoebe avoided her sister’s eyes and looked at the cherub above her.
“Of what?’
Phoebe blew out a loud breath before answering.
“I’m just feeling as if my time would be better spent at home making plans rather than observing social niceties this evening. Can you not allow me to wallow a bit?”
“Why else are you wallowing? That is not the only reason.”
“Yes it is,” Phoebe snapped.
Livvy thought about that briefly before saying, “You’ve never been a wallower.”
“Is that a word?” Will’s brow wrinkled.
Livvy patted her husband’s chest. “Yes, it is now.”
Together they both then returned their eyes to Phoebe.
“It’s hardly fair I have to deal with both of you now. Livvy was bad enough.” Phoebe tried to make light of the moment, but they didn’t smile.
“Has someone upset you this evening, Phoebe? Do I need to pummel someone in my new capacity as your brother, because believe me, I am more than equal to the task.”
“Heart warming though that statement is, I can do my own pummeling. Thank you, Will.”
“And whom are you going to pummel?” Livvy inquired.
“You, if you don’t shut up!”
“Ah, now there is my sweet gentle sister.”
Phoebe didn’t respond, she just glared at them both. It was going to be a long and arduous evening. She could just feel it, not to mention the effort she would need to expend to avoid bloody Lord Levermarch.
Finn and his brothers arrived at the musical late. He walked into the room, nodding to acquaintances as his eyes did a sweep of the room. He saw Lady Croxley offer him a shy smile and returned it. She would make an excellent viscountess with her gentle ways and soft spoken manner.
“Do either of you know Lady Croxley very well?”
Ben visibly shuddered and Alex’s lips pursed.
“What?” Finn queried, not liking their reaction to his question.
“Woman’s about as appealing as a piece of ten day old cake.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Alex tilted his head one way as Ben titled his the other.
“Strike her off your list,” they both said in unison.
“Why? She’s well breed and well mannered. Her qualities are everything I should look for in my future wife.”
“It’s only skin deep, Finn, trust us on this. The woman is a venomous harpy.”
“Rubbish. I would have heard if she was. You’re both being foolish.” Finn dismissed their comments.
“You asked us and we told you. Be it on your head should you ignore our warnings.” Alex looked disgusted. “And just so we’re straight, I nearly took you today, Finn. A few more minutes would have made all the difference.”
“No it wouldn’t, Alex, and you know it,” Finn said, doing another, slower survey of the room. “You couldn’t beat me even if I was fencing one-handed.”
“I nearly had you, Finn. Everyone knows it.”
“Bring me one person who knows it,” Finn said, looking for Will, who would probably have Olivia and possibly Phoebe at his side. He would dance with Lady Croxley later, he thought, dismissing his brother’s valuations of her character. Not that he specifically wanted to see Phoebe; however, he would like to see how her injuries were after this morning. He wondered if Will had told her of their conversation about him seeing her fall.
Alex hemmed and hawed for several seconds before saying, “Ben.”
“Ben is not a reliable source. He will lie for a pittance,” Finn said, straightening his cuffs as he prepared to leave his brothers. “Find someone reputable that was at Angelo’s today who actually believes your wild allegations, Alex, and I will listen.”
“You’re a hard man, Finn.”
“You and your brother behave yourselves this evening,” he said. “And remember that I have set up an appointment with the investors tomorrow; the
refore, please make sure you are not home too late.”
“I’ve told you I have no wish to invest in the locomotive industry, Finn. Why will you not listen?”
“It will cost you nothing to hear what the man has to say, Alex,” Finn said, forcing a smile onto his face before walking away and leaving them scowling after him.
Finn then spent thirty minutes talking to people as he walked around the room, pretending not to search for Phoebe, until finally locating her standing with Olivia and Will, which suited him because Will was a friend and he had every right to approach.
They appeared deep in conversation and Phoebe was looking at the ceiling, showing him the pale silken length of her neck. He had an urge to place his lips at the base and hold them there while he breathed in her scent.
Why did he think these thoughts constantly when he was in her company?
“Good evening, Miss Langley, Olivia, Will.”
“Finn, we were just commenting on the cherub and how well the pink satin bow suits him.”
Following his friend’s eye, as they looked upwards, he located the cherub.
“Foolishness.” He dismissed the cherub.
She didn’t look at him, not even when she curtsied; her eyes were trained on his waistcoat buttons. He couldn’t say what was different about her tonight, yet something was. She’d lost some of her sparkle. Wrapped in the palest gold, she was still the most beautiful woman present but her eyes lacked luster and he hoped she wasn’t suffering as a result of her fall. He saw a bruise had formed on her face that he had not noted earlier. Should she have come out this evening if she was in pain?
“Lady Harrington is signaling us. It seems we are to take our seats.”
“Excellent. You know how I enjoy music, my love.” Will took his wife’s arm as she scoffed over his obvious lie, and led her to the seats set out before the stage, leaving Phoebe to follow on Finn’s arm.
She kept her body as far away from him as she could and he had the feeling that if she could raise her arm a few inches without anyone noticing, she would do that, too. Something was definitely bothering her this evening, Finn wondered what it was.
“Would you care for a program, Miss Langley?”
She shook her head as she took her seat, keeping her eyes on the stage. Beside her sat Will, and beyond him, Olivia.
“I believe we are in for a wonderful evening, Miss Langley, Miss Harrington has procured the renowned pianist Vladimir Klaukost to accompany Madame Picuoult.”
She didn’t speak so he simply kept talking, keeping his eyes on her side profile.
“I understand at his last concert Klaukost made the Duchess of Breveal faint because she was so overawed by his playing. Unfortunately, she fell backwards onto Major Holliander, who I believe was not paying attention, and called her a bumbling fool. It is my understanding the Duke of Breveal then took exception to this insult to his beloved and, being a bit of a hot head, he swung a fist at the Major. Unfortunately, it missed and connected with Miss Holden who was so incensed to have spilled her glass of…”
“You’re making that up!”
She was looking at him now.
“Are you calling me a liar, Miss Langley? For shame.”
She sighed. “No, I would never go so far as to call you a liar, my lord. And I have been sitting here as you made up that ridiculous story, wondering how I am to apologize to you for my behavior this morning.”
“‘I’m sorry for my behavior this morning’ would be a good place to start.”
“I’m sorry for my behavior this morning,” she said, repeating his words and looking like she’d swallowed something vile.
“You don’t like to apologize, do you, Phoebe?”
Her nose wrinkled as she thought about his words.
“Not particularly. In fact, I try not to do so unless absolutely necessary, Lord Levermarch. But I’m aware that you were right when you stated my behavior was petty.”
“I have never seen you petty before, Phoebe. It was something of a shock.”
She laughed, which made her lovely eyes sparkle and her face light and Finn wondered if any man could resist this woman when she looked that way.
“And I had expected you to roar your condemnation for my behavior at me, so we were both shocked, Lord Levermarch.”
“I don’t always roar, Phoebe, contrary to what my brothers say.”
Finn saw something flash in her eyes at the mention of his brothers and then she lowered them.
“I like your brothers, my lord. They are very nice, well-mannered men.”
“Yes, I believe that after years of hammering manners into them they are beginning to show some promise.”
She looked at him for a few seconds, and it was a steady look, unlike the other woman of society who usually lowered there eyes or looked at his chin. Phoebe really studied him.
“Do you know, Lord Levermarch, I believe this is the first time we have conversed without insulting each other.”
Finn thought about that. “I believe you are correct, Phoebe. Perhaps you should show this side of your nature more often.”
“My nature! Why is the fault for our previous encounters solely mine?”
He lifted an eyebrow, which was enough to irritate her further.
“You are as much to blame as I, with your pompous manner and self-righteous beliefs, Lord Levermarch.”
It seemed their short truce was at an end.
“I’m not pompous or self-righteous, merely assured, Phoebe. There is a difference.”
She folded her arms. “You’re arrogant and have your own way far too often!”
“You will break my heart if you keep saying such mean things.” Finn enjoyed teasing Phoebe, as the result was really quite something.
“You do surprise me, my lord.”
He elevated one eyebrow again as she glared at him.
“In what way, Miss Langley?”
“I had not, until now, realized you had a heart.”
“I do believe that hurt,” Finn said, solemnly placing a hand on his chest.
“Here’s what I think,” she interrupted him. “I think you like women to be simpering and cowed, which I hasten to add I am neither, and never will be.”
She was, however, magnificent, he thought, but as he liked to have full use of his limbs, he kept that thought to himself.
“Your future wife, if such a paragon exists, has my undying sympathy.”
“Tell me, Miss Langley, have you always reacted so vehemently to people questioning your behavior?”
Surprise flashed across her face and Finn wondered if someone else had raised this topic with her before, presumably a parent or sibling. It was obvious Phoebe did not take well to criticism or censure, no matter how warranted.
“Willful or spoilt, Phoebe, which one are you?” Finn mused, knowing he should shut his mouth but didn’t seem able to.
She hissed, which drew the eye of the elderly Lady Russell in front.
“Excuse me, Lady Russell, I was about to sneeze.”
The transformation from raging vixen to sweet debutante was startling. Finn had never been graced with a smile from Phoebe like the one she was bestowing on Lady Russell. Ridiculously, he now wanted one.
“That’s alright, my dear, we all have little lapses,” the lady said, patting her hand. She then looked at Finn.
“Smart move sitting next to this one, Levermarch. Sharp as a whip with both intelligence and beauty, and so sweet-natured,” she added before once again facing the front.
Sweet natured…Phoebe?
The smile dropped from Phoebe’s face as she turned to once again snarl at him.
“I have no idea why we are having this conversation, Lord Levermarch. Furthermore, I wish for you to keep your distance from me in the future.”
“Alas, in that I fear you are to be disappointed,” Finn said calmly. “As your brother-in-law is my best friend.”
“Yes, that is certainly one of life’s mysteries, as my brot
her is usually an excellent judge of character,” she muttered.
“I can be quite a nice person when the occasion warrants it.”
She snapped her teeth together hard. “I have no further wish to sit next to you, my lord, hurling insults back and forth. Therefore, I wish for you to move seats for the remainder of the musical, before I truly say something I’ll regret.”
“You haven’t already?” Finn said, facing the front once more. He did not like causing scenes and in fact avoided them. He was not a game player nor did he deliberately antagonize people yet he was doing just that with Phoebe and could not seem to stop himself.
“If you will not do the gentlemanly thing and move, then I will.”
She had moved past Will to take the seat next to Livvy before Finn could stop her.
“Move over here, Levermarch, before some other idiot takes the space,” Will hissed, patting the seat Phoebe had recently vacated.
“Are you calling me an idiot, Ryder?” Finn moved into the seat and glared at his friend. Why the hell could he not just have a reasonable conversation with that woman? They always seemed hell bent on taking a piece out of each other.
“Picture having Major Dumble or the elderly dowager Duchess Pomley sitting between us. It would mean a night spent being nudged and yelled at.”
“True,” Finn said, trying to relax into the hard seat and ignore the warmth beneath his buttocks and how it had become warm.
“Care to tell me what the hell that conversation between you and Phoebe was about?” he said, still looking to the stage where the musicians were now warming up.
“No.”
“Well, then, I’ll just point out that you are my staid, correct friend, the one who never places a foot anywhere without first checking every direction to assure it will not land in manure. Yet with Phoebe, your usually stellar character traits seem to have deserted you and by the dark look on her face I would say you are now up to your neck in it.”
Finn sighed because nothing else really seemed to fit the moment. Will was right, damn him. He wasn’t behaving as he usually did and it was her fault; she made him stop thinking.
“Stellar sounds better than staid.”