His chest tightened and he stormed toward the hallway.
“Who do you think you are speaking to in that manner, Mrs. Horst?” Phoebe’s voice was sharp and as scolding as the new nanny’s.
Markus halted in the shadows of the door. Phoebe was too far to the left for him to see, but he had a good view of the hawk-nosed Mrs. Horst and her crisp navy dress with bright white cuffs. Not a single hair escaped her cap, and she narrowed her eyes in Phoebe’s direction.
“It is my job to educate this child. I will thank you not to interfere, Miss Hallsmith. After all, you are no one in this house.” Mrs. Horst smoothed the front of her dress with a deliberate stroke.
“Elizabeth, come here.” Phoebe said.
Elizabeth scurried down the hall.
“In this house, we treat each other with respect. I do not pretend to know what lesson you believe you are teaching by demeaning this child, but it will not happen while I am in charge. Since my time here at Rosefield is short, Mrs. Horst, you may consider your duty here completed.”
Markus’s heart leaped and he wanted to cheer.
Mrs. Horst’s face twisted in ugly rage. “You have no right to sack me.”
“I hired you, Madam, and I can fire you just as quickly. In fact, I just did.”
“You have no right. I will go to his lordship.” She stomped her booted foot.
Phoebe marched into view fists on her hips and Elizabeth clinging to her skirts. “You may do as you please, but you will never speak another word to this child. Lady Elizabeth deserves a nanny who will encourage and cherish her, not a bitter, angry banshee. Do what you like, Mrs. Horst, but do it elsewhere.”
“I will see his lordship. You will be the one leaving.”
Had anyone ever defended him like that? He hoped his little Elizabeth would always have an advocate like Phoebe to stand at her back. Swallowing down a wave of emotion, Markus stepped into the hall.
Both woman stared, wide-eyed.
Elizabeth smiled, showing all her shiny new teeth.
Having been raised by bullying parents, he knew what it was like to be called stupid. Finding good friends and having a kind nanny was the only thing that had saved him, if he was saved. “You have seen me, Madam. Now you can repack your things and get out of my home. You should count yourself lucky I do not have you flogged for speaking to my child like that. Further, you are fortunate Miss Hallsmith got to you first. I might have physically tossed you from the house had I not had the time to calm my fury.”
Stammering, Mrs. Horst made to argue.
Markus pointed toward the stairs. “Go and pack, or I will have you removed with just the clothes on your back.”
She ran up the steps, mumbling about pantywaists and madmen.
Lifting Elizabeth into her arms, Phoebe said, “I suppose I must start again to find a proper nanny. I apologize for hiring that woman. On paper, she is quite qualified.”
“No apology necessary. I should have listened to your caution and demanded references. One never truly knows from a letter or resume.” He took Elizabeth from her arms. “She really was lucky you got to her first just now.”
Phoebe’s lips quirked into half a smile, making him long to kiss her. “I am certain she knows that now. You were quite intimidating, my lord.”
“I used the same tactic when you first arrived and it had no effect.” He kissed Elizabeth’s forehead.
“I am not easily cowed. Perhaps it is because I have always had to deal with my brothers.”
Elizabeth popped her thumb in her mouth and rested her head on his shoulder.
“She’s tired. Shall I put her to bed, my lord?”
“My name is Markus and I will take her up, Phoebe. You should get some rest. You look a bit worn out yourself.”
“I might say the same about you, Markus.” She walked to the servants’ door to the kitchens.
“I too had a trying morning.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” Her eyes rocked him with her concern shining within.
He swallowed. His arms and legs ached from the hard ride on Warrior and his head pounded from spent emotion. “Perhaps, but not just now. I will put this bundle to bed, then find my own for an hour. Rest is just what I need. Suddenly, I feel about to drop.”
“I will just let Mrs. Donnelly and Watson know that Mrs. Horst will be leaving us.”
“I’ll see you at dinner, Phoebe.”
She cocked her head, hand resting on the door. A blush rose in her cheeks and traveled down to where her breasts rose above the cut of her dress. “Yes, dinner. I will see you then, Markus.”
He shook off the distraction and longed to know why she blushed. It might have been easier to ask her rather than wondering, but there was something delicious in pondering her emotions.
Elizabeth’s fingers curled in the back of his hair, and he kissed her nose. “You and I could both benefit from some rest, my darling.”
He put her in her crib and tucked the blanket around her. Already sleeping, she continued sucking her finger and sighed.
Having missed her entire life thus far, regret flooded Markus as he brushed her curls away from her cheek.
In the hallway, Mrs. Donnelly rushed toward him. “My lord, I was just coming to help you.”
“With what?”
She searched around him. “With little Elizabeth.”
“She is asleep. I go to rest awhile as well. Did you need anything before I retire?”
Mrs. Donnelly fidgeted with a handkerchief. She worried the material to a twisted mess. “I will assign one of the new maids to check on her every few minutes.”
“That will be fine, if there is one you trust with the task.” He didn’t like the idea of a stranger too close to his daughter.
“Faith has returned, my lord. She was here when little Elizabeth was born. I will have her take charge until Miss Hallsmith finds a suitable nanny.” She fisted her hands, standing rigid.
“You think it was a mistake to let Mrs. Horst go?” His housekeeper’s opinion shouldn’t matter, yet she had stayed with him. She loved Elizabeth, and it was strange for her to show temper. If it was directed at him, he wanted to know.
Her expression softened. “I didn’t like that one from the moment she set foot in the house. Too haughty by half if you asked me.”
“Indeed. She was not appropriate for Elizabeth. I am sure Miss Hallsmith will rectify the situation soon.” Yes. Phoebe would fix everything. It was what she did if he was any judge of people.
“Have a good rest, Sir. You look ready to fall out.”
He drew in a long breath. “It has been a trying few days.”
Pity edged the wrinkled skin around Mrs. Donnelly’s eyes. She turned and went into the nursery.
The hallway stretched longer than ever before as his legs struggled to carry him to his own bed. Once there, he flopped on the mattress fully clothed and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep would not come despite his exhaustion. Duck’s words spiraled through his mind and refused to cease. There was a catharsis in apologizing to Duck and the other returning staff. Markus’s heart was lighter with the understanding that he needed to forgive sweet Emma.
He dragged himself from the bed and crossed to his writing desk in the corner. Dark clouds rolled in as he pulled paper and pen from the drawer. He wrote to his sister, Dorothea, first. His first letter had been all about himself. It was starting to be clear how selfish he truly was. He had neglected her, not been to her concert at the Royal Music Hall. She had done something no woman had done before, and he had been too self-absorbed to attend. He would always regret missing her moment in the sun. He ended the note with an invitation to visit and a suggestion to bring Mother along.
Sighing, he let the dread of that apology shake him. It had to be done and he deserved whatever censure Mother would deliver. He did
not extend the invitation to his father. If the blackguard joined the party, he would deal with him. It was an unlikely problem, as Dory and her husband, Tom did not associate with Father any more than Markus.
Once the message was addressed, he rang for Watson and asked it to be posted immediately.
Another layer of dread lifted from Markus as he handed the missive off for delivery. He removed his clothes and climbed into bed.
Chapter 9
No. 8
An Everton lady will go to bed at a reasonable hour and rise by dawn.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
It took nearly two weeks for the London agency to send another nanny candidate. Save a valet for his lordship, the rest of the house and grounds were completely staffed. All was in order. Still, Phoebe hesitated to leave Rosefield. She padded down to the kitchen after midnight, knowing the familiar sight of Markus would give her peace.
He smiled when he saw her. “I have pilfered spice biscuits from the pantry. I think Becca was hiding them from us, but she did not do a good job of it. She put them in the empty flour jar, but I know all her tricks by now.”
“You’re in a good mood.” She sat and accepted a biscuit along with the milk he’d poured for them both.
Cocking his head, his expression turned thoughtful. “I am feeling more myself, though even that makes me feel guilty.”
“Why would you feel guilty?” Phoebe longed to smooth the crease between his brows.
She had warned herself not to grow attached to a man she could not have. Jared Blunt would be a much more realistic choice, yet her heart did not respond to Jared as it did to Markus. Jared had no interest in her opinions while Markus always listened and gave his thoughts on any matter on her mind. Truthfully, the idea of a lifetime with Jared made her skin crawl, but the next twenty or thirty years alone was a terrifying prospect. She shook off both notions.
“I miss Emma every day, but not with the misery that ruled my life a month ago.” He plucked a few crumbs from the plate and ate them.
“And you think this is a bad thing?” She handed him another biscuit.
He sighed and bit off half the biscuit. “I realize how ridiculous I sound. It should be a good thing to have stopped wallowing in my own misery. Yet, this new contentment has brought a new set of problems. I could be happy, but how without Emma? It is wrong to be happy when she is gone.”
“Emma would not expect or want you to be unhappy, Markus. No one will ever doubt your love for her.” A lump clogged her throat and she forced the last words out.
“A few weeks ago, when you sent me to talk to Duck, he said something that has continued to haunt me.”
They had met in the kitchen almost every night, yet he had never mentioned any problems with Duck. “Why did you not say anything? I could have spoken to him about keeping his place.”
He shook his head and reached across the table to take her hand. “No. In his way, Duck is wiser than you might think.”
It was an innocent touch, but her breath caught and her pulse throbbed in her ears. “What did he say?”
Staring at where their hands touched, he rubbed her fingers before pulling back. His breath shuddered. “He said that I would have to forgive Emma at some point.”
“Forgive her for what?”
“For dying.”
Mortified, Phoebe prepared to storm out to the cabin where Duck lived and give him a piece of her mind. “He had no right to say such a thing. I am sorry for bullying you into apologizing. I will have a talk with him in the morning.”
“Do not do that. He was right, Phoebe. I am angry with her. My rage at the person I loved most in the world is eating me alive. It poisons my heart and soul.” He left the remaining bit of biscuit on the plate and stared at the table.
“Why did you not say something to me before, Markus? I would have tried to help.” She shook from the tears she held back. His pain flooded her. What he suffered should not be born.
“I was ashamed of these feelings.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
He stood and walked to the end of the table. With his back to her, he said, “In the past few weeks I think we have become friends, Phoebe. I need someone to talk to. I need a friend to understand.”
Rising, she rounded the table and stopped in front of him. Aching for him in a way she had only ever ached for herself. She empathized with Grand and wanted to ease her pain, but this agony she shared with Markus was different, stronger and all encompassing. “You may always tell me anything, Markus. I wish there was more that I could do for you. I would ease your suffering if I could.”
He brushed her hair back from her shoulder and ran the back of his fingers along her jaw. “You listen. That is quite a lot.”
Everywhere he touched her set her skin on fire. Here he was telling her his innermost feelings about poor Emma, and she longed for his touch more than she longed to draw breath. She stepped back. “It is nothing.”
“Do not pull away from me. Why do you do that each time we get close?” He closed the gap and cupped her cheek. In the light from one candle on the table the green of his eyes glowed, piercing her soul.
To get the words out, she had to swallow down a stone of emotion. “I am not a good person, Markus. What I want is so wrong I pray daily for strength. You will be all right now. It might be best if I take my leave of Rosefield.”
Leaning until his lips were only a breath from hers, he said. “You are the best person I have ever met. Nothing you might want could ever be wrong.”
Her head told her to pull away, but she lifted onto her toes to reach his lips. Soft and strong they pulled desire from her.
His arms encompassed her.
This was what she wanted. To be in his arms, in his bed, in his life. He devoured her lips and she opened for him, clutching his jacket with both hands.
Phoebe couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe. She melded to his body like a wanton, drawing his lips and tongue into her mouth and savoring his taste. The voice in her head screamed, This is wrong. She shoved against his chest and stumbled until her back hit the counter. “I am sorry, Markus. I cannot do this. I loved Emma, and what we are doing is a mistake. The nanny is hired. I will pack my things and Honoria and I will be out of your house tomorrow.”
He called after her as she sprinted from the kitchen.
His footsteps followed her all the way back to her room where she bolted the door and leaned against the cool wood and closed her eyes.
From the hallway, his voice filtered through the door. “I know you can hear me, Phoebe. These feelings I have for you may be wrong, but I cannot deny them. I assume by your distress that you share the same feelings, but if all of this is too difficult, I will keep my place and not pursue you. Please do not leave yet. Elizabeth and Rosefield still need you. I need you.”
The light clomp of his footsteps moved further away until they faded. She opened her eyes to the moonlit room and stared into the eyes of Honoria. Her heart jumped into her throat and she stifled the scream. “Good Lord, Honoria, you scared me to death.”
“Clearly not.” Honoria stood from the chair near the dwindling hearth.
“What are you doing in my room?” Phoebe added a piece of wood to the fire and waited for it to catch. Winter was nearly upon them and the drafty house grew cold.
“I heard a noise but when I got here you were not in your bed. I know of your habit of snacking in the wee hours, so I waited to make sure you were all right.” She cocked her head. “Are you all right?”
Flopping into the other chair, she puffed out the breath she’d been holding. “I hardly know.”
“Has his lordship fallen in love with you?” Honoria sat with her hands in her lap. Her gaze piercing, she held back the quirk of a smile.
“No. He is fond of me, perhaps,
but love…No. Still, I think it best if we leave tomorrow morning.” Resolved to do the sensible thing, she tugged her wrapper tighter and made a mental list of things she would do in the morning to make sure Rosefield was in order.
Honoria stood and rounded the chair. She put her hands on the high back and watched Phoebe. “If you think that is best, my dear. From where I stand, it seems you might like to stay here awhile. After all, two men vying for your attention at one location is cause to stay rather than flee.”
“I know at my age I should be begging one of them to marry me, but…”
“Do you love one of them? Maybe both of them.” A full smile burst onto Honoria’s face and she made no attempt to hide her glee, clapping and letting her eyes go dreamy.
“I most certainly do not love them. Love is for fools.”
“Your friend Emma was no fool and she clearly loved his lordship. Why should you think loving him would be foolish?”
Flustered, Phoebe added more wood to the fire. “I am not in love with anyone, so the point is moot.”
“Fine, no need to burn the house down, Phoebe. If you wish to leave, we will leave.”
It took a force of will to push the next words out. “I do wish to leave.”
In truth, she wished for a great many things, none of which included leaving Markus and none of which were possible. Leaving was the only option. The nanny, Miss Walker, had arrived and appeared kind, if not very bright. She would be fine. Phoebe had wished for someone sharper, but Miss Walker was the best the agency could offer for the moment.
“I will have Margery pack my things after we break our fast. Good night, my dear.” Honoria walked to the door. “I am sure Mr. Blunt will continue his interest in London. He hardly seems the type to let distance stand in his way.”
“Good night, Honoria.”
When the door closed, Phoebe opened the window to let some cool air in. The roaring fire had turned the bedroom into an oven. She rolled her eyes and wished Grand was there to give her advice.
* * * *
The servants whispered at the bottom of the stairs when Phoebe came down to break her fast. “What is going on?”
A Lady's Honor Page 11