His Impetuous Deputante (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time - Book 1)

by Charles, Jane

  “I thought you were through with her now that she was breeding. You certainly found another bed warmer quick enough,” Boris taunted him.

  The hurt that flashed in Phoebe’s eyes confirmed she had started to believe he was involved with Olivia. He would convince her of the truth later.

  “Answer one question for me, Boris,” Taylor said. “Why my wives? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to be rid of me?”

  “Easier, yes. Not nearly as enjoyable. Do you know how long I have waited to see your downfall? Ever since I could remember, you were Grandfather’s favorite. I wasn’t surprised when you inherited everything; you were the only son of the eldest son, though his stipulations were intriguing. Since then, I have waited for the day you would lose everything and be made to suffer for the rest of your life like the rest of us were.”

  “You are all wealthy men and landed in your own right. Or, you were before you foolishly gambled it away.”

  “It was bad luck and not foolishness. Soon though, everything you have will be mine.”

  “What if you don’t inherit? What if it turns out to be Kendrick or Herbert?”

  “Then he will probably kill them as well,” Phoebe answered.

  While they were talking, Noah had crept up from behind. Boris must have seen the shadow because he swung around, taking Phoebe with him.

  “So, Lady Sandlin, you have two rescuers. Too bad they won’t be able to help you. With one step, you will be flying. Oh, no you won’t. You don’t have wings. Too bad.”

  Taylor and Noah both lunged at the same time. Noah tried to grab Phoebe, who was closest to him, while Taylor tried to break Boris’s hold on his wife. Yanked back sharply, Boris let go of Phoebe for a second and slid along the edge. In one last attempt, he reached out, grabbing her around the waist and took her with him.

  Chapter 27

  Phoebe screamed and reached for Noah. She missed but latched onto some stones bulging from the walk. She held on for dear life as she slid over the side of the wall. Boris still held onto her. Though he had slid down her body, he still had a tight hold on her legs. “I may not survive this but, I can guarantee, she won’t either,” he yelled up in desperation.

  Taylor was on his stomach in seconds and grabbed a hold of her arms. He tried to pull her to safety, but the weight must have been too much for him. For a moment their eyes met.

  “I won’t let you go.”

  “I know,” she whispered back. Her arms felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. Her legs felt as if they were going to be torn off, and her stomach began cramping. She couldn’t lose the child only to have her life saved. It would be so unfair. She fought to keep her tears at bay and prayed they survived. She didn’t pray for Boris, just that God protect her child.

  Noah knelt beside Taylor, and grasped one of Phoebe’s arms. With each man holding her, they tried to pull her up, but even together they couldn’t lift the weight of her and Boris. They shared a look, determined not to let her drop. She knew they wouldn’t let her down. Boris was one man who had only himself to rely on. Phoebe had two men determined not to let her die.

  Phoebe’s head hung down, unable to look up any longer. She didn’t want them to see the tears streaking her face, from the pain her body was enduring. She was convinced her body would be torn apart before anyone let go.

  “Did I hear correctly? You killed my little girl?”

  Phoebe’s head snapped up. Lord Caruthers stood on the ledge over them.

  “Which daughter was that?” Boris yelled back.

  “His second wife. The one who drowned.”

  “She was a pretty one. Sweet and fair. She didn’t exactly drown. She was unconscious before she ever hit the water.”

  A satisfied grin came to Lord Caruthers’s face. “That is all I needed to hear.” Taking the pistol from behind his back, he leveled it at Boris.

  Boris pulled harder on Phoebe in an attempt to climb up her body. All she could assume was that if they were close enough, Lord Caruthers would be afraid to shoot. Phoebe cried out in pain as Boris’s fingers bit into her flesh.

  Lord Caruthers didn’t waste another moment. He took careful aim and fired. Boris loosened his grip immediately. Taylor and Noah lifted her quickly as Boris’s screams descended and ended in a thump.

  * * *

  Phoebe slowly became alert and opened her eyes. She recognized the ceiling of her room and wondered how she came to be there. She had survived. Or, had all of it been a horrible nightmare? No, it had been real. Too real. Taylor had been there. He had tried to save her. Lord Caruthers had arrived as well. He had shot Boris. Her memory went blank. She must have fainted. How very odd for her.

  “I am glad you’ve awakened. I was worried.”

  She turned her head toward Taylor’s voice. He sat beside the bed, holding her hand. “How did I get here?”

  “I carried you.”

  Phoebe turned away from him. Her mind was clearing. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Regardless of the horrifying ordeal they had just come through, and the fact that he had saved her, her heart was still too raw from his betrayal. She couldn’t face him until she was less vulnerable than she was now.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I am fine. Just tired,” she answered without emotion.

  “Can I get you something?” Taylor asked, concern in his voice.

  “No. I would just like to rest, if you don’t mind.” Phoebe continued to stare at the ceiling above.

  “Very well. I’ll leave you then.”

  Holly entered the room a few minutes after he left and took the seat he had vacated. Phoebe turned her back on her maid and willed herself to sleep. She wanted to hide from what she must eventually confront.

  * * *

  Downstairs, Taylor poured himself a liberal glass of whiskey. “She dismissed me. No smile. No thank you. No it is nice to see you again. It was if I was the last person she cared to be with at the moment.”

  “It is clear you left before my letter arrived,” Noah said, then stopped. “Why are you here? I thought we agreed you would remain in London.”

  Taylor raised his eyes to Noah. He considered telling him of Heather, but dismissed the notion. “I received a warning and knew I had to come right away.”

  “The same warning I received, Taylor?” Lord Caruthers’s voice came from behind. “By way of a beautiful angel.”

  So, Heather had sent her father as well. He didn’t feel so insane suddenly. Either Heather approved of his new wife, or she had loved him enough to see that he didn’t lose everything. Regardless, he would like to thank her. Taylor allowed himself a smile. “Yes.”

  “Do you know she told me that Phoebe was the wife you should have always had?”

  “She mentioned the same to me.”

  Lord Caruthers’s eyes misted. “I believe my Heather is very happy where she is now.”

  “Heather?” Noah asked. “Did I hear you correctly?”

  The two men exchanged glances. Finally it was Taylor who spoke. “Heather has visited me on occasion. Until last night, it was when I slept. Always to warn me of danger. That is how I arrived when I did.”

  Noah simply stared. He was probably too stunned to think of anything to say.

  A few moments later Holly knocked on the door and entered. “She is deep asleep, Lord Sandlin, if you would like to go up.”

  Taylor started for the door.

  “Before you go, you need to know a few things.”

  Taylor stopped and faced Noah, waiting.

  “I don’t think she knows who Olivia really is. In fact, when I tried to explain, she forbid the name being mentioned. She is very hurt and angry. When I gave her your package, it was returned after being opened. It only further convinced her that you were guilty.”

  “She knew when this started what was going to happen.”

  “You weren’t going to settle on one mistress.”

  “Didn’t Lady Felding explain who Olivia was?”

&nbs
p; “She assumed Phoebe knew and dismissed the mood to restlessness at confinement and frustration at your separation. It never occurred to her that Phoebe had begun to believe the gossip. Since Phoebe refused to discuss the situation with anyone, how could we have known better?”

  No wonder she had treated him so coldly. If the roles had been reversed, he would be devastated. Without a word, he left the room, determined to be by her side when she woke. Somehow, he would make her believe the truth. What if he lost her trust? What if he lost her? He couldn’t bear the thought.

  Silently he entered the room and found her deep asleep. He had to find a way to bring her back to him. The only way was to find out what information she had obtained. Then he could combat it. He rifled through her desk and found a stack of letters and newspapers on the floor, neatly arranged in date order. The trash was filled as well. While she slept, Taylor rummaged through her personal correspondence, feeling no guilt whatsoever. His marriage depended on what he would be able to learn.

  The trash revealed the letter, or a better word, Journal, that she had started. The entries stopped shortly after his relationship with Olivia began. The letter made no secret of her frustration at the situation and loneliness for him. She told him often of her love and numerous accounts of the babe’s progress. He glanced to the bed. He hadn’t really paid attention earlier, but she had expanded.

  He set the letter aside and went through the papers, re-reading the accounts of his exploits.

  Why had she kept them? Perhaps because it was the only news she received of his activities. He should have tried to sneak more letters to her, but he had been afraid of the risk. He had also been positive she was in complete understanding. Positive that she trusted him.

  He put the letters aside and began to read the ones from her friends. Not one detail of the gossip was omitted, whether truth or assumption. Taylor was raging by the time he finished the last letter. After such evidence, how could she not believe he had taken up with someone else?

  Reading the stories sickened him. What must Phoebe have thought and felt? All the while he had believed she knew better. Even these letters made him want to doubt himself, and he knew the truth. How could he ever convince her otherwise?

  Taylor would never forgive himself for waiting so long to bring matters to a close. From now on, he was going to take a page from his wife’s book of life, vowing to not be so damned careful and cautious in the future, and be a little more reckless. Had he done that, he wouldn’t be sitting here now worrying that his marriage was over.

  Phoebe stirred on the bed. Taylor glanced at her and noted she was still asleep. He placed the documents back as he had found them. He would never earn her trust if she found him going through her personal papers. Suddenly he was very weary himself. He hadn’t slept the night before, and the excitement of the day was finally wearing on him. He removed his jacket and boots, slipped into bed beside her, only intending to doze, but he fell into a deep restful sleep.

  She awoke slowly from her nap. She didn’t want to wake. She wanted to stay in peaceful oblivion. Try as she might, she couldn’t escape again. Opening her eyes slowly, she noted it had gotten dark outside and her husband was asleep beside her. Startled, she sat up. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was only just after the dinner hour. So she hadn’t slept into the night. At least not quite. She slipped from the bed, trying not to wake Taylor, and dressed. It wasn’t that she was being considerate of his need for rest. She just didn’t want a confrontation.

  At least clothed she could think more clearly. She had no recollection of how she came to be sleeping in her shift, unless Taylor had undressed her. What a horrid thought, given the circumstances. Well, if anything, it proved that his tastes now ran toward widows and not pregnant wives.

  Seated in the chair she watched him sleep. He was so handsome, it pulled at her heart. No, she would not weaken because of his good looks. He had taken up with another woman and she would not forgive him. At least not easily. She owed it to him to hear what he had to say. After all, he did save her today. For that, she should at least give him some consideration, and perhaps she would wait to divorce him until after his birthday. Would it be fair to make him forfeit his fortune and her child’s future? Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Perhaps his mistress would want to marry him when he was free.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Phoebe left the room quietly and walked until she was locked in the parlor with her pianoforte. Seated, with her hands on the keys, Phoebe couldn’t decide what to play first, but she no longer cared what her family thought of her selections. She needed this outlet. She was hurt, angry, confused. She was a mess.

  Slowly the music started. Beethoven was the composer and Phoebe played every Beethoven piece she could recall. When her answers weren’t found, she became sadder and switched to Pachelbel, and the tears flowed down her face.

  She loved Taylor so much. It was easy to be angry from a distance, but when he appeared today and literally held her life in his hands, all her feelings came to the surface. He warned her not to believe what she heard. Had she unfairly judged him?

  Still, he had spent a weekend sharing a room with that woman. Could it have been innocent after all? No, she had heard descriptions. Taylor couldn’t be immune to that kind of beauty. He had sent her those beautiful jewels. Were they because he was guilty or because he loved her? She knew as well as anyone how devastating the gossip could be. Had she unwillingly been a victim? If so, how could he explain all his time spent with that woman? Surely he hadn’t needed to spend almost every waking hour with her just to convince people he was having an affair.

  Without conscious thought, the music changed to Hayden as her irritation grew. As much as she tried to defend him and deny the truth, Phoebe couldn’t. There was no possible way he would have spent so much time with the countess unless there wasn’t some very real attachment. If so, where did that leave Phoebe and the child? Taylor would expect her to remain his wife and live in the country. Did he expect her to hide and raise their child while he carried on in society? Well, he could think again. Even if she couldn’t get a divorce, it didn’t mean she would take a passive role. No. If he could have his fun, so would she. Not that she could ever consider taking a lover. But, how would he feel if she did?

  Ideas formed and her music changed again to Bach. The child would be born sometime during the winter. The Season wouldn’t begin for at least a few months after, leaving her plenty of time to prepare. She wouldn’t stay at home this time. No, she would go to London, with or without her husband. She knew he would never give her a divorce, so she might as well forget the idea. That didn’t mean she would have to be miserable either. No. She may not have enjoyed the Season all that much before, but as a married woman she was granted much more freedom. She didn’t have to worry any longer about being ruined and could do as she pleased. After all, she had provided an heir, thus fulfilling her obligation. All she had to do was shield her heart and she could be happy.

  They would continue to live together probably. She may even allow him back in her bed, eventually. If there was even a hint that he was carrying on with another, then he would have to forget any intimacies with her. Phoebe didn’t fool herself into thinking she could live a life without ever being intimate with Taylor again. She also wasn’t sure if she only wanted one child. However, when it did happen, it would only be when she was sure he wasn’t with someone else, and she was strong enough to protect her heart from becoming involved. With months to wait, she had time on her side. She had the advantage of preparing her defenses and forming a strong wall of protection.

  Satisfied with her decision, Phoebe finished with a rendition of Mozart.

  Chapter 28

  Taylor woke to an empty room, confused for a moment. In the distance he could hear music. A quick survey confirmed Phoebe was gone. With irritation, he dressed completely. He had wanted to be alert when she awoke so they could talk. Instead he had fallen into a deep sleep, and she hadn’t even both
ered to wake him.

  Leaving the room, he made his way to the parlor and tried the door. It was locked. Frustrated, he raised his hand to knock.

  “Now is not the time,” Noah said from behind.

  “Why?”

  “She is working through, have you forgotten?”

  Well, he would wait here until she found her answer. He settled himself in a chair in the hall. Noah leaned against the wall and raised a humorous eyebrow.

  “Why are you standing around?” Taylor asked bitterly.

  “In the event you need an interpretation.”

  “Then by all means.” Taylor gestured to the other chair.

  The music changed a few minutes later. “She is sad and depressed,” Noah offered without question, at the sound of Pachelbel.

  Taylor moved to stand.

  “Not yet. If you ever learn anything, learn this. When she is moving between types of music as this, never disturb her until there is silence.”

  “Why?”

  “Because an interruption disrupts her thoughts and she has to start all over.”

  “You are serious?” Taylor asked, having only heard her play two different types of music before, never this emotional switch.

  “Wait and see. She isn’t done. You can hear it.”

  And listen he did. It wasn’t long before he heard Hayden, which he believed was sad or maybe angry. Taylor groaned and settled back, waiting, hoping this wasn’t where she would stop. The wavering music seemed to continue a bit longer than the others, and he was afraid that would be her mood when she emerged. Finally, she turned again. Bach, but she only stayed with him a short time before moving onto Mozart before she stopped playing completely. As she had covered the negative emotions, Taylor allowed himself to be hopeful and turned his eyes back to Noah.

  “She is resigned and somewhat pleased with her decision” Noah stood. “She will be emerging soon.”