Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
“Come on!” Genevieve cried excitedly, yanking Phoebe’s hand, tugging her away from her parents.
“Wait!” Phoebe shouted, panicked at leaving her parents’ side upon their warning, but her friend was already pulling her away.
“We cannot miss the lift-off!”
Phoebe glanced back at her parents, but her focus quickly returned to the hot-air balloon that was deflated on the field before her.
The grassland that had been reserved for the day’s fair was filled with members of the ton.
She noticed several notable Earls and Marquesses with their wives, people that Lord Birchwood had pointed out upon their entry.
But behind her, he still lingered. She had hoped Birchwood would go to join the others who he found worthy of mentioning but instead he strolled with her parents.
The Earl and Countess of Tripleton had their arms linked.
From a distance, they looked like the perfect ton couple, even if they sought out different things.
Her father had always wanted to make more connections and gain more business associates; her mother had always wanted to be captivating.
She was not happy if every head did not turn and look when she entered a room.
“Phoebe,” her mother snapped loudly, pulling Phoebe out of her introspective state. “Stay at my side, like I ordered.”
“Aunt Myrtle!” Genevieve whined. “Please! We are young ladies. We must be at the forefront to attract suitors!”
“It seems that you have forgotten, Niece, but my daughter is already betrothed,” Phoebe’s mother answered coolly.
“Do not drag her along with you as though she were your plaything. If you wish to catch a husband by making a spectacle of yourself, that is your prerogative. But Phoebe will be a Marchioness soon enough, so she does not need the attention of other suitors.”
“Please, Auntie Myrtle,” Genevieve said helplessly.
“I need Phoebe’s help.” Then, her eyes got that sparkle in them that meant she was about to say something to appease Phoebe’s mother.
“After all, she is the youngest daughter of the Earl and Countess of Tripleton. Your matchmaking skills are renowned. Who can forget that you have already seen two daughters successfully wed! Surely, you will not begrudge me for wanting Phoebe by my side.” She lowered her chin and simpered a bit.
“The Tripleton name will bolster my own reputation. It is what your own sister would have wanted, Auntie.”
Phoebe cringed at the mention of her siblings.
Her sisters were eight and ten years older than her, and had long ago eloped with their husbands.
While Phoebe had spent her youth in the countryside, her sisters had married and moved to other continents that Phoebe would likely never be able to dream of seeing. But…
It worked.
The flattery worked on her mother and father, for if there was anything to prompt their acceptance of releasing Phoebe from their side it was the promise of seeing yet another young lady they knew making an advantageous marriage match.
Anything to enhance the Tripleton name, Phoebe thought privately.
“Fine,” her father finally decided. “Just—report back to us shortly and do not stray out of sight.”
“Hold on.” Lord Birchwood stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.
“I do not agree to this arrangement.” He clucked his tongue and smoothed back a lock of his hair which had a wind-blown look to it today.
“Such frivolity.” He turned his eyes on the Earl and Countess.
“I must have my betrothed on my arm. I cannot let her wander off toward a foolish science exhibit like a fickle girl who thinks the thing might actually fly. Truly, who believes in such nonsense? We do not have the knowledge for this.”
“I assure you, Lord Birchwood, a great deal of research has gone into this,” Genevieve said bravely. “My father assured me so.”
Lord Birchwood only scowled at her as Genevieve tugged Phoebe closer to her protectively.
“Please? I do not want to go closer alone, and she is my cousin. I have every right to have Phoebe at my side.” Genevieve made her voice whinier, a tactic that made Phoebe bite back laughter. Her cousin was truly playing up her desperation. “Please, Uncle, Aunt!”
“Heavens, fine,” her mother snapped, standing in front of Lord Birchwood, who tried to protest once more. “Just go. Go, and do not bother us again until we call for you, Phoebe. You are proving to be more trouble than you are worth.”
“I agree,” Lord Birchwood muttered behind her. “A wife must be docile and compliant. Where is her compliance, Tripleton? I was promised a good, silent wife.”
Phoebe’s heart withered as she saw her father’s shame at the accusation. He had truly promised her to be that without ever telling her. She had been quiet with them, needing to please, needing to keep her mouth shut, but for them to promise that behavior to others…
It made her feel rather ill.
A pull on her hand brought her out of her thoughts.
“Phoebe, come with me!” Genevieve exclaimed happily, and Phoebe took one last look at her parents and Lord Birchwood. Her mother flicked away her attention with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lord Birchwood’s mouth curled in distaste, while her father did not even look at her.
Hurriedly, she turned to Genevieve, then finally, finally, let herself get lost in the excitement of the day.
“Why did you even bother bringing me here?” Sebastian groaned while scowling at Percy.
“Because it is interesting, and because my wife wants to see the hot-air balloon take off. She is extremely invested in this little science experiment and wants to know all she can about this new method of travel.”
“You know that I have been introduced to Verity, do you not? It is not necessary to always call her your wife.”
“I enjoy it.” Percy’s mouth twitched with a small smile. “I like the way the words roll off my tongue. My wife… See there is a nice sound to it. Give it a try yourself. You might think it so nice that you shall be tempted to find your own wife soon enough.”
“Heavens,” Sebastian laughed. “You have come a long way, Percy.”
“And if I recall correctly, it was you who encouraged such a thing, no? You told me to cherish what I had, so I did.”
“Well, I am glad you finally listened to me. It only took, what, ages?”
Playfully, Percy nudged into his side, and Sebastian chuckled as they ventured deeper into the field where a scientist was setting up a hot-air balloon. The take-off was scheduled to be one of the biggest ton events for a while, and Sebastian could not lie.
He was actually quite excited to see such an invention, despite his complaining. He was only bemoaning that fact that Percy and Verity had insisted they join his party because he felt guilty for taking a day off work after experiencing such a massive breakthrough.
“My husband is stubborn,” Verity chimed in as she hurried to rejoin them and link her arm through Percy’s.
Sebastian raised a brow at her. Just a few moments ago, the Duchess had become distracted by a bow and arrow target range near the entrance.
“But all is forgiven. In the end, he came back to me.”
Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “He might be an obstinate man, but that goodness, that love was always in him, Verity. You were always in his heart; he just needed a nudge to realize it.”
“And what of you?” Verity asked. “Who is in your heart, Sebastian?”
He blanched, stumbling in his steps, an unusual thing for him to do. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Oh, let us not pretend. We all know how much you have been asking about a certain Lady Phoebe,” Verity teased. “Is that who resides in your he—”
“Nobody resides anywhere,” Sebastian said quickly. “In certain dreams, perhaps, but definitely not...”
He could not even allow himself to finish the statement. It ought to be a crime to deny his true feelings to his friends.
The lie was like acid on his tongue, for Lady Phoebe had, in fact, been the subject of his intimate dreams. He dreamed of his Thisbe taking off her mask, entering his side of the privacy booth the night of the ball.
And the dream had ended before he could see her face. His bloody imagination couldn’t offer even a semblance of satisfaction.
“Percy,” Verity whispered far too loudly, “I think Talwyn has found himself someone he cares for deeply.”
Sebastian stiffened. “No. No, I have not. Certainly not who you think. Why would you think that?”
Verity laughed delightedly. “Because you have not stopped asking about her.” She reached over and tapped her fingertips on Sebastian’s forearm.
“And even though I have known you for what seems like a very long time, I have never once before heard you protest so loudly and vehemently all while managing to trip over your own words.”
Percy sniggered. “You are an absolute wreck, Talwyn. The lady has turned your head and now you cannot string together a proper sentence.”
“I…I can speak coherently,” Sebastian muttered, which only made his friends laugh more raucously. “My power of speech is my greatest strength.”
“You are hilarious today,” Percy guffawed.
“Quite comical,” Verity added.
Sebastian’s only reply was to give an aggrieved roll of his eyes.
When his companions quieted and started whispering amongst themselves, Sebastian checked his pocket watch, knowing they still had another hour until take-off.
Looking around, he noted that tents were set up around the field.
Chalkboard advertisements announced sweet stalls, dessert stands, and even a fortune teller who would likely be somebody dressed up to look the part, eagerly pocketing coins while they spun some non-existing story about a person’s life.
Still, a part of him was slightly intrigued.
“Oh, look!” Verity said happily, pointing across the field to where two ladies were walking arm-in-arm, their heads toward one another, laughing.