Phoebe and the Pea: A Regency Holiday Tale

by Catherine Bilson

  She hesitated before voicing her next remark because to her, at least, it was a significant mark against her. “A wife with more noble connections would be of more use to you in the advancement of a diplomatic career.”

  Again, he gave her point due consideration before answering. “Only, I think, if I aspired to an ambassadorship, and I don’t believe I do. A little too much bowing and scraping would be required for a plain-spoken military man like myself to comfortably stomach.”

  Phoebe couldn’t imagine the major abasing himself to anyone. Eating a few bites of fish, she tried to think of another question, but she was in a state of shock at the mere fact of his suggesting an interest in her. Or had he actually proposed to her? How were these things supposed to go? She was above the age of majority and therefore had no legal guardian, but she supposed that Lord Edmund should be applied to for his approval.

  “Should I accept the post in Copenhagen, I would be expected to depart in March.” Randwyck’s low-voiced remark brought her attention back to him. “Thus, there would be plenty of time to call the banns, or if you should require more time to make up your mind, I could obtain a special license and we could marry in London immediately before departure.”

  The fish tasted of nothing. Placing her fork down, Phoebe took a deep breath. “I will consider your offer, sir. You do me a very great honor, but one I confess to being caught unprepared for.” Willing him to understand, she looked at him pleadingly.

  “I am honored you will even take the time to consider it, Miss Faraday,” he replied, his expression reassuringly calm. “I am at your disposal if you think of any further questions you would like answered, or you can apply to my cousin Edmund for confirmation of my character.”

  That, at least, she was sure she did not need. Major John Randwyck was as honest and straightforward a man as she had ever met, and she thought one of the most noble despite his lack of a title. “When do you depart Holt Manor?” she asked.

  “Four days hence, though I can easily delay my departure if need be.”

  “I will have an answer for you before that.” It wouldn’t take four days for her to make up her mind. Every instinct shouted at her to accept him now before he had second thoughts and withdrew the offer, but she would not leap blindly into something which would have such far reaching effects on her future. Nor would it be fair to make such a decision without at least consulting with Edmund and Eugenia. Though considering the way Eugenia was watching her and the major with a little smirk on her face, Phoebe thought Eugenia was rather pleased with her matchmaking efforts.

  For the rest of the meal, they discussed innocuous topics, safe topics. For the life of her, Phoebe could not have recalled afterward what was said. At last Eugenia announced it was time for the ladies to retire to the music-room.

  “We shall permit you gentlemen twenty minutes to enjoy your port and blow a cloud for those of you who wish to,” Eugenia advised, “and then your presence is required to applaud my daughter’s performance. Am I making myself clear, Edmund?” She sent her husband an admonishing glance.

  “I would not miss Eleanor’s performance for the world, my dear,” Edmund promised dutifully.

  Phoebe slipped away to go and collect Eleanor, delighted to see her charge beautifully dressed in her best gown with her hair prettily braided and pinned up. “My, don’t you look lovely!” Phoebe admired.

  “Am I really to perform for all the grown-up guests?” Ellie asked, her eyes huge with excitement.

  “You are, my darling, and I know you’ll be brilliant because I’ve heard you practice. It’ll be just like our practices, in fact, because I’ll be playing along with you as I always do.”

  “Everyone will be looking at me.” Ellie was showing nerves, which was rather unlike the normally precocious child, but then doing anything for the first time could be nerve-wracking, Phoebe thought.

  “You can close your eyes if that helps,” Phoebe suggested. “Pretend it’s just the two of us. Or look at your mama or papa, I know how proud and happy they are that you’re coming down to sing for their friends.”

  Entering the music-room clinging tightly to Phoebe’s hand, it wasn’t long before Ellie’s customary confidence reasserted itself, and the little girl was soon sitting beside her mother being made much of by Eugenia’s friends.

  Phoebe busied herself sorting the sheet music at the pianoforte, though she knew the music she would play to accompany Ellie’s song by heart. She was seated there alone when the gentlemen entered the room and found herself more than slightly flustered when Major Randwyck came immediately to her side.

  “Do you need someone to turn the pages for you while you play for Eleanor?” the major offered.

  “I thank you for such a kind offer, but I have the song memorized.” Phoebe smiled her thanks. “When you play only the same piece of music several times every day for a month or two, it becomes very familiar. I could probably play it with my eyes closed.”

  “Well, I will not challenge you to do so, but I do believe you could if you set your mind to it.” His smile was warm, admiring. It made her feel butterflies of excitement in her stomach. Shyly, Phoebe looked away, shuffling sheets of music to give her trembling hands something to do.

  Fortunately, Eugenia brought Ellie over a moment later and clapped her hands to demand everyone’s attention. “My daughter Eleanor has graciously consented to open this evening’s entertainment for us with a song. She will be accompanied on the pianoforte by my cousin Miss Faraday—excuse me, I mean Queen Phoebe.” She cast a laughing look at Phoebe who smiled in return.

  Ellie’s song began quietly, but within moments the child had gained confidence and raised up her sweet little voice to give a performance which met with universal acclaim. Flushed with pleasure at the applause, Ellie reached for Phoebe’s hand and urged her to rise to take a bow too before giving her a tight hug.

  “You were wonderful, darling,” Phoebe murmured proudly. “Go and give your mama a kiss and say goodnight, now. And Papa too. Then I’ll take you upstairs.”

  “Oh! But Mama promised she and Papa would sing next and I could stay to listen to them!” Ellie gave her an appealing look.

  Phoebe smiled. “I would not deny you that pleasure, darling.”

  “Uncle John has saved seats for us, look!” Ellie towed her over to Major Randwyck who was sitting alone at one end of a small settee. “Did you like my song, Uncle John?” she demanded at once.

  “You sang beautifully,” Randwyck assured her. “I cannot recall when last I was treated to such a professional musical performance.”

  Phoebe appreciated that he didn’t wink at her over Eleanor’s head or allow even a hint of amusement to enter his tone as he spoke. She was sure he couldn’t be entirely in earnest, but nothing about his demeanor would have given that away to Ellie who settled down with a happy smile as Eugenia took her seat at the pianoforte. Edmund stood beside his wife with one loving hand on her shoulder.

  “Well, we are about to be thoroughly eclipsed, I’m afraid,” Phoebe said quietly, leaning toward Randwyck. “Have you heard these two perform?”

  “I have not, but by your words, I sense we are all in for a treat?”

  Phoebe smiled but said nothing. She kept her eyes on Randwyck as Eugenia began to play, and the room quieted. She wondered how he would react and what he would think of the performance.

  Eugenia was no virtuoso at the pianoforte. While she and Edmund both had pleasant enough voices, nobody would ever have called them great singers when they performed alone. Together, though, something magical and wondrous seemed to happen. The love and happiness in their marriage shone through somehow in the harmony they achieved in their duet. Phoebe could have listened to them perform all night.

  “Ahh,” Randwyck gave a soft sigh of pleasure as the last notes died away; he rose to his feet, along with everyone else, to applaud. “You were quite correct, Miss Faraday,” he turned to Phoebe, nodding. “That was truly something wondrous.”


  Eleanor ran to her parents to congratulate them and to receive her due in embraces and goodnight wishes. Smiling fondly at the lovely picture the little family made, Phoebe glanced up at the major and said, “My parents were as well-suited and as happy together as Edmund and Eugenia are.”

  Randwyck nodded, his expression serious. “You desire such a partnership for yourself, of course.”

  “I do.” She chose her next words carefully, hoping he would take her meaning. “I also believe strong marriages require work… from both parties. Such harmony as you see with these two does not happen overnight but takes years to grow from a foundation of mutual admiration and respect.”

  ***

  She seemed to be looking for reassurance, for a reason to accept his proposal, and he was more than happy to give it to her. Nobody was looking in their direction, so John took Phoebe’s hand in his, giving it a gentle press. “I am willing to make the effort, Phoebe, and please let me assure you that I already respect and admire you greatly. I expect those sentiments to increase immeasurably as I come to know you better.”

  For a long moment, she met his eyes fearlessly, searching his expression. She was looking for proof of his sincerity, he supposed. He held her gaze and waited.

  “Thank you,” Phoebe murmured at last. “If you will excuse me, Major, I must see Eleanor to bed.” Her small hand slipped from his, and John was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of loss.

  “Will you return to join us afterward?” he asked, more out of hope than expectation.

  She was already shaking her head, confirming his suspicions. “Ellie’s excited and will take some settling, and I’m afraid I’m feeling very tired. I’ll seek my own bed once she’s asleep.”

  “Will you walk with me tomorrow?” he pleaded, not caring that he was showing perhaps too much of just how badly he wanted to spend more time with her. He had a few days, at best, to convince Phoebe to accept his suit, and he didn’t want to waste any time. ‘He who hesitates is lost’ as he’d so often heard.

  His boldness brought a reward in the form of a joyous smile, which lit up Phoebe’s whole face. “I shall try to make time,” she said, “but if you wouldn’t mind a little extra company…”

  John took her meaning immediately. “Of course I should be delighted to accompany you and my niece on a walk,” he said. “Eleanor can act as our chaperone.” He kept his tone deliberately light and teasing, accompanying the words with a wink.

  Phoebe laughed, bright and clear, and John saw heads turn toward them. People were starting to take notice of the way they stood close together. Decorously, he stepped back to create space between them, allowing her to move away to collect Eleanor and remove her from the party.

  With Phoebe gone, all the light seemed to have left the room. John found he could take no more enjoyment from the evening’s proceedings. Quietly making excuses to Eugenia, who looked at him with a knowing eye but waved him away, he slipped out of the room and made his way to his rooms. He had the feeling he would not find restful sleep until Phoebe had given him her answer.

  Chapter Eight

  The morning, thankfully, brought a note from Phoebe delivered by one of the footmen as John ate his breakfast, advising that she and Ellie would be delighted to have his company on a morning walk around ten o’clock. John didn’t bother trying to restrain his obvious pleasure as he read the note. Edmund, sitting alongside him, immediately asked what he was grinning about.

  “I am anticipating a pleasant walk with two lovely ladies,” John answered, folding the note back up and tucking it into his pocket. “Your daughter and Miss Faraday.”

  “Well, I daresay Miss Faraday will be a suitable enough chaperone for you and Eleanor,” Edmund quipped with a chuckle.

  “We’ll see how sanguine you are about the prospect of Eleanor going walking with unmarried gentlemen when she’s a bit older,” John answered dryly, making Edmund chortle and nod.

  “Fair point, cuz! Enjoy your walk. Rather you than me, though; it’s cold out there today.”

  “I understand Copenhagen’s a deal colder, so I’d best get used to it.” Even as he spoke, John wondered how much Phoebe knew about Denmark beyond the history of its royal lineage. Perhaps he would offer to loan her one of the books he’d brought with him to read: accounts by Englishmen who’d travelled in the Scandinavian countries. He’d be happy to give her the book, in truth, but was quite certain she’d refuse to accept such a gift.

  Returning to his rooms to fetch his greatcoat, he chose one of the books and put it in his pocket. He’d ask Phoebe if she would like to read it, at least. He would not have her make any decisions without being fully informed.

  Eleanor made him a cheerful greeting and promptly skipped off down the carriageway, so John and Phoebe set off at a brisk pace after the skipping child. After a few steps, John pulled the book from his pocket and offered it to Phoebe.

  “What’s this, Major Randwyck?” she asked, accepting it and turning it in her hands to read the title. “A Year in the North?”

  “Something I thought you might find of interest. Call it research, if you will. You might even wish to read it with Eleanor as a topic of education.”

  Phoebe tucked one hand into his arm to steady herself, thumbing through a few pages of the small book with her other hand as she walked. “How interesting. And how very thoughtful of you.” She flicked a glance up at him and smiled. “Were you thinking this might help me make my decision?”

  “Indeed, whether you ultimately decide in favor of my offer or otherwise, I would not have you do so without being as fully informed as it is in my power to make you. Having not yet visited Denmark myself, this second-hand account is, unfortunately, the best I have to offer on that topic. If there is anything else you would know of me, be it my circumstances or my plans, you need only ask. I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

  “Every word out of your mouth, sir, makes me more inclined to accept you, I must say,” Phoebe said, startling him.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your every word and action shows a consideration for my feelings and sensibilities. Something I had never expected to be shown by any man, much less a potential suitor. It does you great credit.”

  “Oh.” Feeling a little embarrassed, John looked away but then back down at her, puzzlement creasing his brow. “I’m but a soldier, Miss Faraday. Plain speaking and honesty are all I have to offer instead of pretty words. If you don’t mind the lack, I think we might do well together.”

  Her lips twitched, her eyes dancing with what he thought was amusement. “Well, with a career in the diplomatic service ahead of you, perhaps we should work on that.”

  “We?” he queried, feeling suddenly hopeful.

  “I have decided to accept your offer, Major.” Her smile was shy, but bright. “John.”

  “But you haven’t read the book yet,” he said stupidly, unable to comprehend why she should have made the decision without doing so.

  “The very fact that you thought to give it to me is enough.” Phoebe squeezed his arm.

  Shaking his head, John tried to comprehend, before realizing he was trying to understand the unknowable: the mind of a woman. “I am more honored than I know how to express. I will do my best to continue as you seem to think I have begun.”

  Phoebe’s laugh was joyous, carrying in the cold, clear air. Ahead of them on the path, Eleanor paused in her skipping to glance back. Her eyes shot to her uncle and Phoebe walking close together, John’s hand placed protectively over Phoebe’s where it was tucked into the crook of his arm. Eleanor grinned and let out a happy giggle.

  “Not too far ahead, Ellie,” Phoebe called after her as Eleanor resumed her skipping.

  “I suspect we owe Miss Eleanor a great debt of gratitude,” John said. “For without her contrivance to ensure you received the pea from the Twelfth Night cake, you likely would never have allowed me to spend enough time in your company to persuade you to consider me.”

/>   “You realized she did that?” Phoebe turned laughing eyes up to him. “Three beans was doing it up a touch too brown, though.”

  “She just wanted to make sure you’d have the best chance of finding at least one suitor you would like, I think.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “I’m very glad I found one of the beans.”

  “So am I,” Phoebe agreed. “Oh, John… so am I!”

  Author Notes

  In the early 19th century, Twelfth Night was arguably the most celebrated day in the Christmas season. A special Twelfth Night cake, the forerunner to the Christmas cakes we have today, would have been made, including a dried pea and a bean, just as in this story. Everyone in the household received a slice, and the lady and gentleman who found the pea and the bean would be crowned king and queen for the evening and their every whim catered to - yes, even if they were servants. I couldn’t find any information during my research about what happened if a person of the ‘wrong’ gender found the pea or bean, so Eugenia’s instruction to pass it to the next person along is my own invention.

  I hope you enjoyed reading Phoebe’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  You can find out more about my work by visiting my web page at catherinebilson.com.