Lord Phillip's Folly

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Lord Phillip's Folly Page 18

by Susan M. Baganz


  “And you did it without even trying.”

  “At least I don’t wander in my sleep anymore.”

  “Because I keep you locked in my arms all night long. Any kisses you are determined to give in your sleep belong to me alone.”

  She grinned. “Thank you for loving me so well.”

  “I have a gift for you.” He handed her a velvet covered box.

  “You didn’t need to give me anything.”

  “A jewel of a woman should have more than a ring to show the depth of her husband’s affection for her.”

  She opened the lid and gasped. In a delicate gold setting was an emerald necklace. “Will you do the honors?”

  Phillip lifted the chain from the box, came behind her, and fastened it behind her neck. The stone was not huge, but a beautiful addition to her ensemble. She fingered the gem and turned.

  “Thank you.” She reached up to kiss him but he stepped back, shaking his head.

  “You’ll have to show your appreciation later, my dear, lest we be late for our own ball. You are far too much of a temptation for me to stay alone with you for much longer.” He held out his arm, guided her to the hall, and down the stairs where he helped her with a wrap that matched her dress. They left the house and he assisted her into the carriage, joining her inside, but sitting across from her.

  “Why won’t you sit next to me?”

  “I don’t want to mess your dress, or succumb to the temptation to kiss you and tell the groom to turn around and take us back home.”

  She smiled. “You flatter me. Where is Duke? It’s not like him to miss an outing.”

  Phillip gazed out the door, saying nothing.

  “Phillip?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Do you know what has happened to Duke?”

  “Why would I know? He’s your pet.”

  “You have information. Tell me.”

  “I don’t want to share with you anything that might tarnish the beauty of this evening.”

  “Something bad occurred.” She looked away from her husband. “I could slap you. How dare you keep something important from me?” Her gloved hands were fisted in her lap.

  “He ate some poison. We found him dead in the garden.”

  “Poison?”

  “The buns you were given with your meal. The poison was meant for us.”

  Her heart surely stopped beating. She blinked her eyes to stop tears from forming.

  “Beth?”

  “I never expected poison. I fed Duke that roll as I prayed God would protect you and be a sword and a shield around us. He answered that prayer by taking Duke instead.”

  He reached for her hand and slid to the seat next to her. “I am sorry. If I could have kept this sorrow from you tonight of all nights I would have.”

  “Why? He was my pet. I had a right to know. Duke was a bird and I will miss him. God wants me to trust Him more and not rely on the actions of a crow who thrice came to our rescue.”

  Phillip was about to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket when Beth pulled out an identical one. She showed it to him with a sad smile. “I’ve had this since the night you rescued me.”

  “I’m honored that you kept it and that it continues to prove useful.”

  “It was your second gift to me.”

  “What was the first?”

  “You listened.” She dabbed her eyes gently, folded the fabric and tucked it back into her reticule.

  “You can overcome your grief so soon?”

  She reached over to clasp his hand. “I’ve had years of experience at hiding my emotions so others would not take advantage of perceived weaknesses. I do not do that with you, Phillip. Tonight, we enter a field of battle. I cannot let Duke’s death sway us from our purpose. I can grieve him later in privacy.”

  “You are an incredible woman. And what is our purpose?”

  “To show the world how besotted we are with one another. The match of the year. And for that, I do not need to pretend.”

  “I love you, Beth. Have I told you that today?”

  “It has been a few hours, but you may tell me as often as you like without complaint from me for I love you more than words can express. If I had to choose between you and a crow, you would win every time.”

  The carriage rolled to a stop. They had arrived.

  Beth took a deep breath and allowed the footman to help her down the steps. Linking an arm through her husband’s they proceeded into his parents’ home. Chin up. Back straight. I can do this. For Phillip. The battle had begun. She hoped they were ready.

  ~*~

  Phillip hid his surprise at his parents’ effusive greeting. The dinner before the ball was a mere sixty people. He was blessed to be able to sit next to Beth at the table. He’d begged his mother for that favor telling her that celebrating a couple’s marriage wouldn’t benefit by splitting them before the celebration started. People needed to see them together. He couldn’t hide his affection for his wife. It might be unfashionable to be in love but he wouldn’t pretend to be cool and indifferent when what he really wanted to do was whisk her away to a room where they could be private. Every rake in the kingdom would be ogling his wife and plotting to steal her from him. He had no fears over her faithfulness. Her devotion to him was true. Her pregnancy was obvious now as well, but she glowed with a beauty that captivated him.

  Dinner was exceptionally grand. The chef had outdone himself on the various removes, but he noticed Beth ate little. Anxiety over the evening ahead or grief over the loss of Duke? He recalled his cook reporting that she’d not eaten well at mid-day either. He glanced at her. She seemed healthy, if a bit pale.

  She glanced his way and gave him a soft smile. “Phillip,” she whispered. “If you keep looking at me like that people will talk.”

  Phillip gave her a wolfish grin and leaned to whisper in her ear. “Let them talk. You are my wife and I don’t care who knows it.”

  Her cheeks became infused with a lovely peach color as she turned away to tend to a conversation with the person sitting on her other side.

  After the meal, his mother and father flanked them in the receiving line to give solid evidence of their support for the marriage.

  Phillip kept a hand at his wife’s back. She glowed, and her gracious interactions with all the strangers impressed him. She was born to be a Countess, not the wife of a second-born son. The thought humbled him.

  Marcus and Josie entered soon followed by Lord Harrow, Sir Tidley, and Mr. Neville. When it was acceptable to do so, Phillip led Beth from the receiving line to speak with their friends.

  Josie was with Beth as Phillip took Marcus aside.

  “Is something amiss?” Lord Remington asked.

  “There was an attempt on our life today.”

  The viscount’s jaw fell slack. “What happened?”

  “Poison. I missed lunch and Beth wasn’t hungry and fed one of the buns from the meal to Duke. He was found dead in the garden with no visible wounds. I tested another roll on a stray cat and it too died. The buns have been destroyed and no one else ate them.”

  “We never suspected something so underhanded. How is Beth taking the news?”

  “She only found out on the way here. I didn’t want to tell her but she pursued her inquiry. She’s not pleased but grateful neither of us—obviously—the intended victims, ate those rolls.”

  “I’m assuming they were not made by your cook.”

  “No. They were purchased from a street merchant. We’ve been searching but haven’t found the person. I don’t expect him to reappear.”

  “All the more reason to stay diligent tonight.”

  “Yes. Can you inform Michael, Theo, and Nigel?”

  Marcus nodded and the men returned to their wives as the orchestra warmed up.

  Phillip bowed over his wife’s hand, placing a kiss firmly on her glove. “Will you honor me with the first dance, Mrs. Westcombe?”

  Beth did a graceful dip and a soft smile curved her lusc
ious lips. Oh, he wanted to do more than dance. “I’d be delighted, my lord.”

  He led her out to the floor as the couples formed around them. “And don’t forget, I claim three dances tonight.”

  “You will cause a scandal, Lord Westcombe. People might think you are enamored of me and will talk.”

  “I suppose I’ll need to marry you then.” The music started and they began the figures of the dance, conversation forgotten in the joy of being together.

  ~*~

  Beth begged off a dance to rest. Phillip left her to sit with Lady Orion.

  “You acquit yourself well, Mrs. Westcombe.”

  “Thank you, my lady. I appreciated your visit the other day, and learning about my mother.”

  “She would have loved to have seen you this day. Tonight is not the time, but remind me to share some of her letters with you. You have nothing to be ashamed of in her. You were a delight to her heart.”

  Beth swallowed hard. “There are moments when I wonder what it would have been like to have her love and guidance. I missed so much growing up without her.”

  “Watching you, no one would ever guess you lacked any of the finer refinements of a lady. Your husband certainly is not complaining. Even as he dances with other guests, his gaze is often on you. I, for one, am pleased with your match. Lord Phillip is one of the catches of the beau monde if a title means nothing to you. Handsome as can be.” She winked at Beth. “Are you content?”

  Beth’s heart beat faster. She nodded to Lady Orion. “I do not take for granted the blessing Lord Westcombe has been to me.”

  Lady Orion leaned closer and whispered, “A healthy specimen of manhood, isn’t he? You keep leading him a merry dance and you’ll never have a fear over his faithfulness to you. Someday you will tell me how you brought him up to scratch.” Lady Orion’s eyebrows wiggled.

  Fighting the urge to giggle, Beth hid her lips behind her fan, pretending to cool herself off. “That, my lady, will remain a mystery.”

  “Which will make you all the more intriguing to the beau monde. Beauty, poise, and a doting husband? You’ll set the town on their ears.”

  “Does everything need to revolve around the opinions of others? It is a wearisome task to be so concerned about that. The trouble and expense of this ball alone could have helped so many hurting people instead.”

  “Do not minimize the power of public opinion, Elizabeth. It has the power to raise someone from obscurity or put them beyond the pale destroying future hopes of marital alliances and income.”

  “I just long for a peaceful life, raising a family at Stanton Hall with my husband.”

  “And someday your daughters will be brought to London to events such as this to find a prospective husband. Your sons, if they have a good reputation will also seek wives amongst society’s elect. Everything you do today, has an impact on them. A disreputable name can last for generations.”

  “I need to overcome mine?” Sorrow lanced her at the image of her broken father asking for forgiveness and walking away in the hopelessness of his past sins.

  “You have come a long way in accomplishing that.”

  “Thank you, my lady. Lord Harrow approaches. This next dance is his.”

  “Enjoy every moment, my dear.” The older woman patted Beth’s hand and released it so Lord Harrow could take it for the dance.

  Beth glanced back at the woman who gave her a smile and a wink. Maybe her mother wasn’t around but God had sent someone to provide the support and encouragement she needed in this moment.

  ~*~

  Phillip had claimed the hand of his bride and they were approaching the dance floor when a clanking glass at the front of the ballroom drew the attention of the throng of visitors crowding the overheated space.

  Lord Manchester stood there with his wife. “I wanted to proclaim that Lady Manchester and myself are pleased with our son, Phillip’s, choice of a bride. I propose a toast to Lord Phillip and Mrs. Elizabeth Westcombe.”

  “Huzzah!” Glasses clinked throughout the room.

  The crowd parted around Phillip and Beth. He looked at her. The people closest cheered again. Phillip beamed at her blush. “I am determined to dance a third time with you tonight.”

  She placed her hand in his. He led her to the floor.

  “You’ll scandalize the ton, my lord.” She protested as she tried to put more space between them.

  “I care not for the opinions of men in this moment. This ball is to celebrate our marriage and I will claim my right to dance with you as I see fit.”

  She relaxed as the music, and his body, twirled them around the floor in the figures of the dance as other couples joined them. Gold flecks sparkled in her eyes as she gazed up at him and her rosy lips parted as if begging to be kissed. He longed to talk about her night or any perceived threats but he couldn’t break the magic of their time here with that kind of discussion. “You are the most beautiful jewel in this room, Beth. I am proud to claim you as my bride.”

  “As I am dancing with the most handsome man in town, I consider myself blessed to call you husband.”

  His voice lowered. “I called the carriage. We can make our escape for home. I long to have you to myself. I find myself jealous of all the men dumping the butter boat over you.”

  “Are you saying their flattery is excessive or untrue?”

  “Never that my dear, only that I want to be the only one to woo you with words of love.”

  “Woo away…”

  Phillip did just as he proposed. They soon escaped the stifling heat of the ballroom and were shut in their carriage. Phillip pulled the shades and dragged his wife into his lap. She didn’t fight him but initiated the first kiss.

  “Did you enjoy the evening, Beth?”

  “Yes. Only because you were by my side for much of it.”

  “Missing Duke?”

  “Of course. I am grateful, however, that nothing happened this evening to spoil all your family has done to establish our reputation.”

  “It makes me wonder what might be next.”

  “I don’t know, Phillip, but I have a suggestion.”

  “You do?”

  She leaned closer to kiss him. Soon they were home and scampering up the stairs to the house. Once inside, Phillip whisked her into his arms and carried her to their room, and from that point on it was debatable who initiated what.

  16

  Beth longed for the country. The next few days of hosting a sea of faces in their drawing room drained her. She had become the toast of the ton. For now, anyway. She wanted Phillip to be present for the at-home visits but he was often at his club. She wondered if he only went there to escape. Thankfully, Josie or Lady Manchester and Penelope, would join her for these events and help her navigate the treacherous waters hidden underneath the swirl of questions.

  Lord Wolton was forgotten and she’d heard naught of her father. She worried for him and had sent him a letter once again begging he reconsider his stance on matters of faith. She’d received no reply.

  Duke’s absence was felt daily. She’d sit outside in the garden and automatically searched for him. Phillip offered to get her a new pet, even a bird she could keep in the house. Apparently, Lord Remington’s sister, Lady Percy, possessed a parrot. They had withdrawn to their country estate as she’d just given birth to their first child.

  Trying to keep track of Phillip’s friends and acquaintances exhausted her. After a few days of this, she finally took a stand. “I am not at home to visitors today,” she told Masters.

  “Ma’am?”

  “No one. Please. It’s been too much.”

  Masters nodded and left her to break her fast in peace. She selected a book from the library and returned to her room. Phillip would be at Gentleman Jackson’s today for a bout of fisticuffs. Phillip? Fighting? Josie had told her about how he had fought to help Lord Remington save Josie’s life. She knew he was strong underneath the custom tailored suits. His strength was a comfort to her.

&nb
sp; Elsa strode into the room. “Lady Orion has called.”

  “I can’t. Send her away, please.”

  The maid bowed and after she left Beth rose and locked the door to the room. She wouldn’t put it past the grande dame of the beau monde to force her way in. Sure enough, the woman was pounding on the door as the butler tried to calm her and get her to leave. Beth fought the urge to give in. No. She needed rest. She napped and later sat and read her book.

  A knock came at the door.

  “Beth?”

  Phillip! She rose and unlocked it to let him in. He closed the door and put his hands on her arms.

  “Are you well? Masters told me you were not at home to visitors today and even refused Lady Orion.”

  “I’m just tired, Phillip.” She reached up to touch his jaw where a bruise was forming. “Someone got a punch past you.”

  Phillip grinned. “Theodore will be sporting a black eye tomorrow. Trust me, I won that fight.”

  “Why do you do it?” She eased his coat off and helped him untie his cravat.

  “Exercise. A way to blow off some steam.”

  “I could think of other ways.” She winked at him as she began to unbutton his shirt.

  “I’m sure you could but we are due to attend a recital this evening. I need to bathe and change…”

  She walked away and sat back down in her chair. “I’m not going.”

  He stopped what he was doing and came to sit in the chair adjacent to her. “Why?”

  “I’m tired. Phillip, I spent years in isolation except for the brief times my dad sent me to boarding school so I would gain some of the finer aspects of being a ‘lady.’ You leave me alone to meet with people who would chew me up and spit me out for the smallest violation of their rules. They are sniffing for something to use to bring me down—to discredit you.”

  “Surely you exaggerate.”

  She gave him a look that said otherwise. “You’ve lived amongst these people. You were raised in society. I was not. They might accept me as your wife, but as your equal? They test me constantly. I long for Stanton Hall.”

  “So do I. Shall I send regrets and spend the evening home with you?”

 

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