He hung his head. “Are you telling me that you do not share my feelings? If that is the case, I will go and never trouble you again.”
“I love you, Markus.” It must be a dream. She would wake at any moment and her bedroom in Everton House would be all there was to comfort her.
Looking at her, joy replaced his sorrow. “Marry me. Not because we made love or because your family would approve. Marry me because we can make each other happy. Chances like this do not come along often, Phoebe. I was sure Emma would be the only woman I could ever love this way. Now I find there is room in my heart for a new love. Different from what Emma and I shared, but just as beautiful. Tell me you will be my wife and make me the happiest man in England.”
Shaking, she didn’t know what to say. In Markus’s arms was the only place she had ever truly been content, but she had agreed to the Everton Domestic Society rules, which prohibited her from becoming attached to her clients. Her conversation with her employer ran through her head. “I will have to speak to Lady Jane.”
“I do not wish to marry Lady Jane.”
A mad little laugh bubbled up and she couldn’t stop it. “No. I doubt Lord Rupert would allow that. I mean, I have an agreement with the Everton Domestic Society and I need to talk to them about not fulfilling it.”
He leaned over her until she was forced back and had to catch herself on both palms. “Does that mean you will marry me or must we have some approval from Lady Jane first?”
Shifting her weight to one hand, she wrapped the other around his neck. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but I will marry you, Markus Flammel. I will be your wife, your friend, and your lover. I want to journey through life with the only person who comforts me, eases my worry, and brings me joy. I want you.”
Either she lifted her head or he lowered his, perhaps both, but the kiss crashed around her more volatile than the worst tempest.
Markus thrust his tongue between her lips and she met his passion with equal measure. He ravaged her mouth and wrapped one arm around her back. With his other hand, he held her leg, easing her nightgown up and pressing his hips between her knees.
Edging forward on the bench, Phoebe wrapped her legs around his thighs and tightened until her bottom reached the table’s limit and her center pressed to the front of his breeches. She ached with need for more of him. All of him. “Markus.”
“Sweet Phoebe, I will never have enough of you.” He slid his hand under her thigh and pushed her nightgown into a bunch around her waist.
The blanket fell behind her on the potting bench as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chest to his. The worn wood teased her bottom.
“I should leave you and go home before you regret this night.” He kissed her throat and chest nudging her robe aside and kissing her through her gown.
“You should stay here and make love to me, Markus. I have no regrets now nor will I later. I want you and will be very vexed if you leave me in this state.”
He suckled her nipple through the material.
The delight of his mouth sent her mind reeling. Her craving for more Markus pooled between her legs. Releasing his neck, she fumbled with the fall of his breeches until the buttons came free. Taking his shaft in her hand, she stroked him, forcing a moan from deep in his chest.
He slid his fingers to the apex of her thighs and toyed with her slick folds.
Although she tried to keep a rhythm, the pleasure of his fingers distracted her and she cried his name. Heart pounding, she had to clutch his shoulders to gain balance.
“My love, I cannot wait.” He thrust forward, joining their bodies.
She stretched deliciously to accommodate him. Holding tight until the pressure eased and she had to move her hips for more. Why on earth would he wait? It was heaven to have him inside her, linked in the most intimate way. It was perfection and with every lift of her hips, more pleasure rolled over her. Tiny gasps filled the small shed, and she realized they came from her.
Following her cadence, Markus eased out, then thrust deep, cradling her in his arms. He slid one hand to cup her bottom and deepen the penetration.
Her womb tightened until she shattered and pure pleasure erupted inside her.
Markus pumped hard once, twice, then stilled on a grunt and filled her with his warmth.
Everything was bright white, clutching and undulating. She ached with strain as the ecstasy flowed over and around her then eased.
“Are you all right, my love?” Markus spoke against her ear still holding her tight.
“Perfect. Are you?” It was the most satisfied she had ever been. In the arms of the man she loved, the man who would be hers forever, and completely sated. The only thing that would be better would be to wake up in his arms when the sun rose tomorrow. It was a giddy notion that soon she would live that very dream.
“I could not be any better at this moment.” Easing out of her, he took care to go slow. Once he righted his breeches, he closed the gap in Phoebe’s robe. He picked up the blanket from the potter’s bench and wrapped it around her shoulders.
She kissed his chin and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “I suppose I must go back to the house.”
“I will speak to your brother in the morning.”
Pushing back, she hated the idea of bringing Ford and his ugliness into their future. “I wish you would not.”
He cocked his head. “Do you fear he will disapprove of me?”
“No. But he will find a way to taint what is so perfect.” She tugged the blanket tight. Just the mention of Ford stole all the warmth from her.
Tilting her chin up with his fingers, he kissed her nose. “He cannot bring any harm to what is between us, Phoebe. I love you and nothing with change that.”
She forced her shoulders back and jumped to her feet. “I would like to go with you to see him.”
He bowed. “I will pick you up at eleven. Will that give you time to speak with Lady Jane beforehand?”
“Yes. Thank you, Markus.” The knot that formed in her gut eased its hold.
“You ask very little, my love. I do not know why you are surprised by my agreement.”
“Because most men care little about the wishes of women. Most men think what a woman wants or needs is trivial compared to their own desires.”
Markus wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a warm hug. “You may be assured that your wants and needs are at the forefront of my agenda. I only want to make you happy. If you wish to face Ford on your own terms, then I will stand beside you as I expect you to stand beside me when I face my demons.”
The knot in her stomach moved to her throat. Everything she had ever hoped for in a husband had been handed to her in this wonderful man. It was all too perfect to be real. She prayed nothing would destroy their happiness before they could arrange a wedding. Brushing her doubts aside, she sighed against his chest. “I shall always stand by you, Markus.”
Chapter 20
No. 3
Each Everton lady has been chosen for a particular assignment because she is the best person suited to complete the goals.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
Markus practically floated into Everton House the next morning. Knowing Phoebe Hallsmith was going to be his wife was like a dream. He had barely slept, but it had been excitement rather than grief that had kept him up.
Gray opened the door. “It’s nice to see you again, my lord. The house has been abuzz with kind words about you this morning.”
“Good morning, Gray. I resolved to arrive early to lend Miss Hallsmith my support.” He didn’t know Lord and Lady Everton and worried they would disapprove. He hoped their opinion would not change Phoebe’s resolve to marry him.
“Miss Hallsmith is in the office with his lordship and her ladyship.”
“I will direct him,
Gray.” Honoria greeted him in the foyer.
Gray bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”
“It is nice to see you again so soon, my lady.” Markus bowed over her hand.
Taking his arm, she led him down a hall to the right of the stairs. “I feel sure we shall see each other on many occasions, my lord.”
“Can I assume Miss Hallsmith shared our news?”
“She was kind enough to inform me that she has agreed to marry you. I could not be happier. I was sorry to hear about your father’s health, but it explains why you took so long in arriving.” Honoria stopped in front of large double doors.
“Thank you. It was very difficult to stay away.”
“All is well now. I wish you great joy.” She patted his arm and drifted down the hall, leaving him to enter the office on his own.
Turning to the doors, he gave a brisk knock.
“Enter,” came a deep masculine voice from within.
Markus opened the door. The Everton Domestic Society office was no different from any London townhouse. One wall was filled with books while windows faced the garden with snow on the sill. The smoke of a fine tobacco scented the air. Phoebe sat on a wooden chair with her back to the door, facing a seated woman with her dark hair pulled back in a bun. Her hands were stacked on top of the desk and she contemplated Markus with barely a change of her calm expression.
A man of middle years smoking a pipe stood at her shoulder. He rounded the desk, hand outstretched. “Lord Devonrose. Welcome to Everton House.”
Phoebe turned toward him and her stunning smile lit her face.
Markus shook Everton’s hand and bowed to the ladies. “Forgive my early arrival. I wanted to make sure all was well with Miss Hallsmith. I know she thinks the world of you both and I would hate for there to be any strife between you.”
Lady Jane smiled. “We are very happy for Miss Hallsmith as long as marrying is what she wants rather than what she feels compelled to do. The ton has a way of manipulating members of the feminine sex, my lord. We are only concerned that Miss Hallsmith has fallen victim to undue pressure.”
Biting his tongue was the only way to avoid a cutting response to Lady Jane’s directness. Of course, she was right, but he hated the idea that Phoebe felt pressured to marry him for any other reason than love. “I see. And what have you discovered?”
“Phoebe assures us she wants to marry you. So, we support her decision.” Lady Jane raised one brow.
Lord Rupert slapped Markus on the back. “My wife only worries about the ladies. They are very important to us, as we have made them family. We are very fond of Miss Hallsmith and hate the idea of her doing anything that will not lead to her ultimate happiness.”
“That is all I wish for as well,” Markus said.
Standing, Phoebe said, “I will accompany Lord Devonrose to see my brother now. I think we are done here.”
Lady Jane stood. “I only wish to say that should you change your mind before or after your wedding, you will always have a home with us, Miss Hallsmith. There is no need to ever remain unhappy in your situation.”
Did they think he was going to abuse her? Markus took a deep breath. “No harm shall ever come to Phoebe as long as I live. She and my daughter are all I care about in the world. My purpose in life will be to see to her happiness. You need not worry, my lady.”
“Yes. I am sure you will be a fine husband, my lord. I only wish for her to know she has options should things ever be different. It is an option I give to all the Everton Ladies who leave our care.” Jane rounded the desk and hugged Phoebe.
Rupert bowed over her hand. “Best of luck, my girl.”
“Thank you both for everything. You saved me when my life was a disaster. I do not know what I would have done without you and the Everton Domestic Society. I am sorry to leave you with so much work to be done.” A tear rolled down Phoebe’s cheek, but she dashed it away.
Showing straight teeth, Jane grinned. “Do not fret about us, my dear. We will survive, and other young ladies will find their way to us.”
They left Everton House and took the carriage to Mayfair where the viscount of Thornbury had long kept a townhouse.
Phoebe’s silence in the carriage worried him. “Are you all right, Phoebe?”
Eyes like clear pools, her shoulders lifted and fell with a long sigh. “I am fine. It is only that I shall miss them.”
“There is no reason you cannot visit. I already expect we shall have visits from Lady Chervil. Our marriage does not mean you must give up your friends. I would not stop you from continuing with the society if that is what will make you happy.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “That is the nicest thing you could have said. But my spot will be filled by a lady who needs Everton to survive. It would be unfair for me to remain when I have a wonderful husband and step-daughter to fill my life.”
Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he loved that she was concerned for someone else and how her moving on would help another. He hugged her tight. “I see how it works now.”
The carriage stopped and a moment later Patrick pulled the door open and lowered a step.
Markus took a deep breath and stepped down. He turned back and lifted Phoebe to the ground. “Are you nervous?”
Grinning up at him, she took his hand. “Not about Ford. It does not matter what he says. We are only here out of your sense of right and wrong. My mother’s opinions are more complicated. I would like her approval. Are you worried he will disapprove?”
It took all his will to keep his voice steady. “Ford has the power to make our getting married difficult.”
She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
All his doubts eased away. “We had better go in. It is likely we have been noticed loitering in the street by now.”
“Indeed. Do not worry, Markus.” Taking up her skirts meant that she released his hand to climb the steps to the front door.
Immediately, he missed the connection of her slim fingers tucked inside his palm. Pulling his shoulders back, he reminded himself that he was the viscount of Devonrose. It was time he acted like it.
The door opened before they reached the top step. A tall butler with dark brown hair swept to one side and sharp brown eyes stared down his hawk nose at them. “Lady Phoebe, how are you?”
“Hello, Bertram. I am well, but it is just Miss Hallsmith now.” She tugged off her gloves and let Bertram take them and her coat. “This is Lord Devonrose. Is my brother at home?”
Giving a nod, Bertram took Markus’s coat and hat. “How do you do, my lord?”
“I will tell his lordship that you are here and wish to see him. Please wait in the rose parlor, Miss.” Bertram retreated down a hallway.
Phoebe straightened her back, lifted her chin, and walked to a door to the left of the entrance.
Following her inside, Markus admired her courage. “Do you know, I think you are the bravest woman I have ever met?”
She circled a grouping of rose damask chairs surrounding a dark wood table, then went to the window and stared out at the street. “Hardly, but thank you. It has been a while since I have been here. Since before I left to care for Grand. It feels quite strange.”
If her family were not about to join them, he would take her in his arms and comfort her. “I am sorry. It seems I am more and more selfish with every moment. I did not even think about how difficult the memories of being here would be for you. There would be nothing wrong with you taking the carriage back to Everton House, Phoebe. I will return by hack and inform you of what has happened here.”
Smiling, she turned toward him. “This was my idea, Markus. My discomfort is not your fault. As tempting as your offer sounds, I have never been one to stay and wait. I prefer to face my fate head on. Besides, most of my memories of London are from when my father was still alive and he and Mother were h
appy. I made my debut from this house, and even though it was not successful in the eyes of the ton, it was filled with excitement and delight.”
Unable to stop himself, he went to her and took her hands. Kissing each one for longer than was proper, he breathed in her soft scent. “I cannot be unhappy that your time in the marriage mart was unsuccessful. If you had found love when you were younger, I would not have the good fortune of standing here with you today. Again, my selfish nature rears its head, but that is how I feel.”
“Who knows why life takes its odd twists and turns, Markus. Perhaps all things happen so that we can stand together for as long as we can.” She leaned in to his embrace.
Even in her brother’s house, holding Phoebe made for a perfect moment.
They hastened to part as the door opened.
Ford filled the threshold. Eyes drawn together, hands fisted and breathing hard, he might have been a bull rather than a viscount. “What are you doing here?”
Phoebe faced him. “Ford, you know Lord Devonrose.”
Barely sparing Markus a glance, Ford stomped in and hovered over her. “You refused Durnst after I commanded you to marry him. He came here in a rage yesterday.”
Markus stepped between Phoebe and Ford. “I have come to ask for Phoebe’s hand in marriage, Hallsmith.”
Gaping, Ford stood like a statue. “Marry her? You cannot marry her. I have promised her to Durnst. I already signed over the property.”
Phoebe gasped. “Why on earth would you do that? What exactly is this arrangement you have with Gavin Durnst, Ford? Why is it so crucial that I marry a man who dislikes me and broke our engagement?”
A low growl rumbled from deep inside Ford. “Have you ruined yourself with this, this drunk? I will kill you both.”
What had been curiosity over Ford’s urgency for Phoebe to marry an untitled landowner transformed to rage at his threat. Markus slipped into his old role as a spy for the crown. A sense of calm swept through him. “Think very carefully before you issue such a threat to me or those I care for. I am not a man to be called names or toyed with. I do not know what trouble you have gotten into and what Durnst has to do with it, but no harm will come to Miss Hallsmith. Do I make myself clear?”
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