She fixed him with an exasperated glare. “If I return to Corsair everyone back home will see my condition.”
“Would you stop referring to your condition?” he snapped. “You’re pregnant, not a leper, and I for one am perfectly happy that we’re having a child.”
“As am I,” Phoebe said quickly, glancing nervously about as though assuring herself that none of the staff had overheard his declaration. “But situations like ours must be handled delicately. Timing is everything. If we’re not careful the gossip will be insatiable.”
Gossip? His mother and Toby could be dying and she was concerned with gossip? James clenched a fist, mentally striving to check the irritation rising within him. “I don’t give a damn about the gossip or your bloody timing. We leave for Corsair now. Together.”
Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. “I am not one of your soldiers to be ordered about, James. I am your wife, and all I’m asking is for a little understanding.” She hesitated, gaze softening to reveal just how vulnerable she was. “If I bring that sort of shame on my family my brother will never forgive me. It will be best if you simply go alone to check on your mother and Toby. I trust you,” she said quietly.
Gazing into her wide troubled eyes his frustration faded. He stepped forward, placing his hands on her upper arms. “That means more to me than you could possibly know, but I don’t want to go alone, Phoebe. You are my wife and I want you at my side. If my mother’s injuries are serious then I’d like for her to meet you again and know of her new grandchild.” He dropped his palms to her waist. “You barely show when you wear fuller skirts and not at all when you’re sitting down. You can remain inside and stay camouflaged for a few days.”
She glanced away, nibbling her lower lip, appearing thoroughly unconvinced.
“Phoebe,” he stooped to her eye level, trying to catch her eye. “What did I tell you in Scotland?”
Her gaze flicked to his, a little twinkle lighting in their depths as a sweet, heart-achingly innocent smile pulled at her lips. “That you are my family now.”
“That’s right,” he whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now will you please come home with me?”
* * * *
The Corsair Keep loomed in the distance as James reined in before the Witherspoon house. Phoebe tugged the oversize bonnet further over her brow and forced herself not to look at it. She was a Witherspoon now and may never again be welcome in her childhood home. She swallowed back the despairing thought, desperately reminding herself that she and James had come for much more pressing reasons. She shouldn’t be dwelling on her personal family drama.
James jumped from the carriage, tied the horse beside the stairs, and quickly turned back to lift her bodily from the seat. Grabbing her hand, he dragged her up the stairs. Worry deepened the lines of his face, and Phoebe was instantly glad she’d come along. If bad news waited within she wanted to be there for him.
Without knocking on the door, James threw the portal inward and tugged her into the front hall. “Mother!” he called. “Judith?”
A few moments of silence ruled.
“Toby!” Tension thickened his tone.
“Uncle Jamie?” Toby’s small voice returned. A few seconds later the boy careened around a corner at the far end of the hall. A grin of pure excitement split his face.
“Oh, thank God,” James mumbled, releasing Phoebe's hand. He strode forward and dropped to a knee, opening his arms in welcome as Toby sprinted down the hall.
“Uncle Jamie, you’re home!” Toby dashed headlong into James’s waiting arms.
James scooped him up, holding him close. “Come here, my boy.”
The heart-warming scene all but melted Phoebe’s heart, and suddenly she couldn't wait to see him with their child. As though sensing her thoughts the baby thumped against her womb.
After a long moment James held his nephew out in front of him. “You look perfectly well, Toby. Your mama wrote that you and Grandmamma were in a carriage accident.”
The boy sobered slightly. “We were. The wheel broke and the whole carriage tipped over in the ditch.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
Toby shrugged. “Grandmamma sprained her ankle, but the driver jumped off the seat so he is fine too.”
“Thank God,” Phoebe said.
Toby and James glanced back at her in unison. The tension eased from James's face as he stood. He rested a palm on his nephew’s shoulder. “Do you remember Lady Phoebe?” he asked.
“Of course.” Toby turned a beaming smile up to her.
“Well, I took your advice,” James said slowly, tossing Phoebe a wink.
“Oh?” Toby’s brow furrowed as though trying to remember what bit of advice he may have given his uncle.
“I married her,” James finished.
Toby’s eyes widened in total surprise. “Really? But you said you didn’t need a wife.”
James grinned. “I guess I was wrong.”
“James?” A female voice called from around the corner.
Phoebe’s spirits dropped a bit as Judith appeared at the far end of the hall.
“Mama!” Toby cried, running over to his mother. “You’ll never believe this! Uncle Jamie’s gotten married!”
“M-married?” Judith stopped short and stared down at her son for a long moment. After a long pause she glanced up, eyes flipping from James to Phoebe and then back to James. “Y-you got married,” Judith spluttered, all color draining from her face. Shock, and mortification darkened her eyes. “To… to her? But—but—she’s a Landon.” Bitterness quickly hardened her gaze.
Judith's claims from the beginning of the summer rushed to the forefront of Phoebe's memory, but she quickly brushed them away. Refusing to be cowed by the other woman’s hostile glare, Phoebe sashayed forward and intimately slipped a hand around James’s bicep. Flashing a sweet smile, she lifted her shoulders coquettishly and fluttered her lashes in mock innocence. “Well, not any longer. Now I'm as much a Witherspoon as you are, Judith.”
The other woman's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more.
James slid an arm around Phoebe's waist and motioned toward Toby. “Toby, will you lead the way to Grandmamma? I want to share our good news with her as soon as possible.”
The boy needed no further urging and hurried forward. James and Phoebe followed with Judith trailing behind them. Toby led them through the tastefully decorated interior of the house to a brightly lit sitting room. Within Mrs. Witherspoon reclined on a chaise with several books and a pitcher of lemonade on a table beside her. Her left leg was propped up on several pillows.
She glanced up when everyone filed into her room. “James!” The book cradled in her lap clattered to the floor. “You're home!” Her entire countenance lit up when her gaze settled on her son.
“Yes. I came as soon as Judith wrote of your accident.”
Her gaze quickly shifted to Phoebe and her brow furrowed with confusion. “Lady Phoebe, how nice to see you again.” Her eyes flipped between them. “Are you here with my son? What is all this?”
Trepidation licked Phoebe's spine. What if Mrs. Witherspoon reacted as Judith had? What if she refused to accept her as James's wife simply because she was a Landon?
James tugged Phoebe closer to his side. “Mrs. Constance Witherspoon, I'd like to introduce you to… my wife,” he said proudly.
“Your wife?” Eyes round as saucers, she stared at James with an unreadable expression. “James, that is wonderful!” An enormous grin split her face. “I’ve wanted you to marry for so long. I just... I never imagined...” She shook her head. “Is this why you left so suddenly after you returned from the continent?”
“It is,” James replied matter-of-factly.
“Why didn't you tell me that you planned to marry?” she asked, obviously exasperated.
James shrugged and glanced down at Phoebe, a sheepish grin on his face. “I wasn't certain the bride would accept me.”
Slowly Phoebe began to relax and warmed in the glow
of James's merriment. She smiled up at him before sliding a playful glance to his mother. “It took him quite a bit of convincing.”
Mrs. Witherspoon winked conspiratorially. “Smart girl.” She reached out and clasped Phoebe's hand warmly. “Lady Phoebe, when you visited me last summer I knew there must have been something between you and my Jamie, but...” she shrugged. “It was too late so I didn't pry. I didn't think I could be any happier than the day he marched up the walk and I learned he was alive, but now... after learning this news... I am more overjoyed than there are words to express. We must have a party and celebrate!”
“Oh, no,” Phoebe blurted. “No parties.”
Everyone looked to her in surprise.
“I, um...”
“What Phoebe means,” James interceded smoothly, “is that the duke is less than pleased by our union because of… well…” he cleared his throat. “You know the history. Phoebe and I would like to keep things quiet until her brother is more accepting of our marriage.”
Mrs. Witherspoon was quiet for a long moment, and Phoebe could all but see the gears turning in her mind. Finally, she fixed shrewd eyes on her son. “Do not lie to me, James. Is she pregnant?”
Mortification rushed through Phoebe, and her body grew so hot with embarrassment she was certain she’d melt through the floor.
James flashed a roguish grin. He didn't even attempt to appear sheepish or remorseful. “How else could you expect a man of my ilk to snare a respectable bride?” He winked. “Compromise was the only way.”
“James Witherspoon,” his mother scolded, but humor twinkled in her eyes, belying her stern expression, “you are a rascal of the first order.”
Judith scoffed, narrowing a shrewd, disdainful gaze on Phoebe’s middle. “She looks to be in her fourth or fifth month.”
Phoebe shifted uncomfortably. “Um, yes, roughly so.”
“You needn’t have bothered with marrying her, James,” Judith snipped. “She’s so far along you’ll never manage to claim a premature birth. Everyone will know.”
Judith’s prior claim that she and James had planned to marry continued to haunt Phoebe’s thoughts. She didn’t really believe it any longer, but Judith’s hinting that he’d only married her because she was compromised made her uncomfortable.
James secured his arm around Phoebe’s waist and shot Judith a warning glare. “Hostility doesn’t become you, Judith. Now, let us be clear,” he said in a tone that clearly stated the subject was closed for discussion or further insult, “I had every intention of marrying Phoebe when I returned from the continent. Learning of our child was merely a happy coincidence.”
“I’m sure it was,” sarcasm laced Judith’s tone as she crossed her arms and turned her head away.
“It's of no matter,” Mrs. Witherspoon interceded with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Life has a way of getting ahead of us, and there is no shame in it. What is important is that the two of you are together. With a little time and love everything else will fall into place.”
* * * *
Later that evening James enjoyed a few moments alone with his mother in her private drawing room. Phoebe had retired rather early that evening to settle in and rest. Intuitively James recognized that she needed a little time alone after Judith’s acid behavior upon their arrival. Though Phoebe didn’t share such aloud, he knew she still harbored a great deal of shame where the circumstances of their marriage and her pregnancy was concerned. Only time and his steady devotion would help those feelings to fade.
“I truly am sorry that I didn’t tell you of my plans to marry Phoebe sooner,” James said, taking a sip of tea, and reclining in a cushioned chair across from his mother. “I wasn’t sure how things would work out and I didn’t wish to disappoint you again.”
A hint of sadness touched her crisp blue eyes. After a moment she leaned forward and set her own teacup on a small table in front of the sofa. “James, my only disappointment is that you didn’t feel you could trust me with what was happening in your life. Over the years you have tried my patience and we have had our share of disagreements, but I’ve always been proud to call you my son.”
“Th-thank you,” he murmured, a little disconcerted by the tender moment.
“And however it came to pass, you’ve married a fine woman, and I’m proud of you for that as well.” She cocked her head to the side. “Lady Phoebe Landon, who would have guessed!”
James chuckled. “What can I say, Mother, you raised a charmer.”
She laughed. “Don’t give me too much credit. You inherited those traits from your father.” She sobered a bit. “I’m pleased to see you don’t harbor any misbegotten grudges against the Landons. I never understood the obsession with that ridiculous Egyptian amulet.” Her voice drifted off and her gaze took on a faraway haze. After a moment her expression cleared and she bestowed a small smile upon James. “Perhaps now we can begin to mend the rift between our families.”
James took a moment before responding. This was a subject rarely spoken of in the Witherspoon household. “Phoebe is afraid her brother will never forgive her,” he confided after a long pause. “He actually disowned her for eloping with me.”
His mother frowned. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Perhaps he’ll come around in time. Phoebe is such a lovely young woman, I can’t imagine anyone remaining angry with her for long.”
“I agree.” James scrubbed a palm across his jaw. “She’s adamant to keep word of our marriage quiet for fear that discovery of her motherly state will bring shame on her family name.”
His mother seemed to consider the statement. “That’s probably wise, but I must warn you, James, it will be impossible to avoid talk altogether. When one of the most beautiful, sought after women in Britain settles for a man with your reputation people will draw conclusions of impropriety. Gossip is a cruel thing, but handled delicately your situation doesn’t necessarily need to lead to a scandal.”
Delicately. There was that word again. Were women trained in skirting scandals? “So what do you suggest?” Judith’s comment from earlier bothered James. While he didn’t particularly care what people thought or said, he didn’t want Phoebe to be hurt anymore.
“Just what Phoebe has already suggested. Keep word of your marriage quiet, and live away from those who would know to ask questions. Timing is everything.” His mother leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Just think, James, your marriage could be seen by society in one of two ways. You could be the rake who ruined a highborn lady, or she could be the highborn lady that reformed England’s most notorious rogue.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Men rarely do.”
James smiled, his gaze drifting to the ever ominous portrait of his uncle hanging over the fireplace. He lifted his teacup in a mock salute of sorts. “I wish I’d made peace with him before he died. His health turned so suddenly, I never thought I’d run out of time.”
His mother glanced over to the portrait. “He had his part in your quarrels too, James. You will be a father soon. I urge you not to make his mistakes.”
James simply nodded, appreciating her words, and drained his teacup. “If you’ll excuse me, Mother, I’d like to check in on Phoebe.”
“Of course, James. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He rose and rounded the end table, dropping a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek. He left the sitting room in surprisingly good spirits, hoping to retire and find Phoebe before she fell asleep. He climbed the stairs and ran straight into Judith. Oh, hell. There was no way to avoid her.
His sister-in-law stopped in the middle of the hallway, and paled, discomfort and embarrassment evident in her gaze.
Internally he groaned, though he endeavored to be polite. “Good evening, Judith.” He considered striding past her, but decided it best to clear the air between them once and for all. It was something he should have done months ago. Instead he clasped his hands behind his back in gentlemanly fashion and addressed her directly, “
Judith, I’d like to apologize for surprising you by coming home with a wife. I should have warned you and mother that I had intentions of marrying.”
Judith pursed her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling for a long moment. “I just don’t understand, James. How could you marry Phoebe Landon? You know—”
“Know what, Judith?” he interrupted, startling her into silence. “That our families are supposed to hate each other?”
She stared at him wide eyed. “Well, I…”
“It’s not your feud, Judith. You married into this family, and, if you haven’t noticed, the rest of us would just as soon let it go.” He sighed, endeavoring to soften his tone. “I know what you told Phoebe last summer. Of plans for you and I to marry.”
Her mouth opened in sudden alarm. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
“It’s all right,” he said quickly, raising a hand. “I’m not angry. I just… I don’t understand where you came by such a notion. I never encouraged your attentions, Judith.”
“I know.” She met his gaze and a sudden wash of tears sparkled in her eyes. “You were always so kind to me, James, and Toby adores you.” She shrugged. “Given the history with your mother and her husbands I thought… I hoped…”
“I’ve gathered what you hoped, Judith.” He leveled her with a serious stare. “It is my hope you never made Toby any promises.”
“No.” she said quickly. “Never.”
“Good.” James stood quietly for a long moment. “Judith, I realize that my reputation does not paint a picture of honor or tradition, but I would never dishonor my brother’s memory by marrying his widow or try to replace him as Toby’s father.”
Tears splashed onto Judith’s cheeks as she nodded.
“I will always be there for Toby,” James said softly. “And for you. We are family.”
“Th-thank you, James.” Judith’s voice cracked. “I-I’m sorry.”
On impulse he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a brotherly hug. “Nothing to be sorry for. I should have said all this last spring and saved us both a lot of hard feelings. I’m just glad to have this behind us once and for all.”
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