Chapter 22
“It is good to be home.” Theodore shrugged off his coat, helping Harriet out of hers as they walked through the heavy doors of Irondale estate.
The tips of his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck, and he could not tell if the sharp inhale was hers or his. He stepped back, nearly colliding with a footman who was carrying in their gifts for Phoebe.
The pile teetered dangerously, and Theodore grabbed a few boxes as the man walked past. He had discovered just how wonderful it could be to give someone gifts. He had never been stingy before, but he had chosen practical, sensible things.
When he had found a simple bracelet, it had made him think of Harriet.
It was a delicate work of silver with small rubies embedded in it.
He had given it to her, watching her face anxiously as his heart threatened to leap out of his throat or stomach – it did not seem particularly concerned with which.
The expression on her face had stayed with him, and as he and Harriet looked at each other, he felt the faintest prickle of nerves. He tried to hide it as he shifted the parcels in his arms, but Harriet put a gentle hand on his arm.
“She is going to love them.” She gestured towards the drawing room. “Come on, we do not want to keep her waiting.”
Theodore nodded, but did not trust himself to speak. He felt a trickle of sweat creep down the back of his neck into his shirt. He fell into step beside Harriet, the pressure on his shoulders and upper back mounting as they drew closer to the drawing room.
Inside, Phoebe was waiting. She was staring slack-jawed at the small mountain of presents, shaking her head and blinking.
He felt as though there was a balloon expanding in his chest as Phoebe spotted Harriet and leapt to her feet, running to her and wrapping her arms around her.
“Ooof.” Harriet laughed, stroking Phoebe’s head. “It is good to see you too.”
Theodore moved past them, carefully lowering the presents on the pile, checking that nothing would topple. He caught Harriet’s eye and saw the amused expression on her face. She had teased him, saying that there would be nothing left in London for anyone else to buy.
She is worth spoiling; you both are. The pitter patter of his heart calmed. He stepped back from the pile as Harriet and Phoebe approached him. His niece looked at him, smiled a small, shy smile and then looked away.
The balloon in his chest was close to bursting, he was sure of it. It pressed against his throat. “These are for you.”
Phoebe’s brow creased and she looked from him to Harriet and back to the pile of things.
“I told you we would bring you gifts.” Harriet laughed at Phoebe’s apparent disbelief, the sound soothing Theodore’s nerves. “Though we may have gotten a little overexcited. I cannot promise you will always get so much when we go away.”
Theodore said nothing. He could not think of a time where he had been so happy to spend, nor when he had felt such joy choosing gifts. He had not realized it was possible to feel that way about such things, and now that he had, he found he did not want to give it up.
He studied Phoebe’s face, watching her reaction and feeling like a child who had given their favorite person a present. His stomach burbled, his blood raced through his body and he gestured for her to open the packages, itching to see her reaction.
Carefully, and far too slowly for Theodore, she began to open the gifts. He saw her hands tremble as she fumbled at the string on the first box, watched her brow furrow in concentration, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth as she pried the package open.
Phoebe looked like a little owl, her eyes going wide as she pulled out a little figure of a wooden horse, then several wooden blocks, a doll, and so much more.
“These were mine, though some of them are new,” Harriet explained, pointing to several objects. “Some of them were my mother’s and her mother’s before her. That doll, for instance.”
Phoebe looked at the doll in her hands, holding it as though she feared one wrong breath would shatter it into a million tiny pieces.
“You must take good care of them.” Theodore gestured to the toys.
He kicked himself mentally, but to his surprise, Phoebe did not object, only nodded solemnly and very carefully put the doll on the sofa. She checked several times to make sure it was safe.
“They are more robust than you think. I promise.” Harriet smiled encouragingly at her. “I trust you to look after them, and your uncle does too.”
Phoebe smiled at Harriet, and pulled the dress boxes towards her. Theodore forced himself not to tap his foot on the ground but could not help flexing and unflexing his fingers. He did not want Phoebe to feel rushed.
Phoebe’s gasp of delight set every hair on his body on end. Unconsciously he straightened, still kneeling but holding himself taller as he watched her closely, his shoulders tensed with excitement.
Her fingers ran along the dress—a simple green one, perfect for every day. She looked so like his sister as she slid the fabric through her fingers. Then he saw her eyes go to Harriet, and understanding hit him.
It was a child’s sized copy of the travel dress Harriet was wearing. She had wanted Phoebe to see her in it and know that it was part of a matching set. He saw Phoebe’s lip tremble, her eyes wide as she stared at the dress.
“Would you like to try it on?” Harriet asked, and Theodore saw her gesture to Lucy.
Phoebe nodded slowly, and then let out a delighted laugh and raced from the room. Lucy ran after her, calling for her to slow down.
“I think she is a little excited.” Harriet shook her head slowly, tugging her hair free from the bun she had worn for their travels.
It cascaded over her shoulders, the sight of it drawing Theodore’s attention to her long, slender neck. He swallowed and with difficulty looked away. He ran his tongue along his lips, and a hand through his hair.
“I hope they fit her.” He glanced at the other dresses he had bought her. “I swear she has grown in the time we have been away.”
“Children do that.” Harriet shifted, but did not close the distance between them. “It is why the modiste will have hemmed it as she did. The seams will be able to be let out, so she should get a good amount of use from it.”
Before he could say anything, Phoebe appeared in the doorway. The dress was slightly too short for her, but other than that, it fit perfectly. She walked into the room, twirling and making the fabric spin around her.
Theodore felt as though his insides were moving in the same way. Phoebe stood straight, her hands curled into the fabric of her dress. He could practically hear her vibrating with excitement.
“Do you like it?” Harriet asked.
Phoebe nodded excitedly and gave Theodore and Harriet a shy smile. To his surprise, Phoebe’s eyes lingered on his face. Her hands moved in front of her, fingers twined together.
His mouth was suddenly dry. He knew she was expecting him to say something, to compliment her. His mind raced as he slowly knelt down so that he was closer to her height.
He felt Harriet brush her fingers against his shoulder, barely enough to notice, but at her touch, his muscles unknotted themselves. He saw her smiling encouragingly at him out of the corner of his eye.
Phoebe was still watching him. He swallowed and gestured to the dress. “You look lovely, Phoebe. Truly, a most beautiful young lady.”
Her shy smile vanished and in its place was a delighted grin. In an instant she had thrown her arms around him, and he held her close.
“Thank you.” It was not a whisper this time, it was louder, smoother, more confident. “For everything.”
“It is my pleasure, Phoebe.” His voice rumbled in the space between them. He knew his voice was deep, not truly a source of comfort, but for the first time she didn’t seem to mind.
They broke apart, and he knew that his face was the mirror image of hers. Her smile stretched just as broadly as his own. It was warm and unguarded. She looked so like Rose, but for the first time, the sick oily guilt did not rear its head.
Instead, he felt like he had just stumbled into a meadow on a summer’s day, with buttercups in bloom and the promise of life starting anew.
Slowly Theodore stood up and Phoebe did not step away. He could sense Harriet behind him, and heard her soft exhale. He wondered if she had been holding her breath.
Theodore gestured to the toys and the dresses. “How about you put those in your rooms and perhaps after, we can all go for a stroll in the garden together.”
Phoebe’s eyes sparkled. “Lessons?”
Theodore shook his head, smiling at his little niece. “Not today.”
Phoebe grinned at him and skipped from the room. Lucy followed after, an equally wide grin on her face. Theodore watched them go, massaging his neck and rolling out his shoulders.
His heart was slowing down, but his blood still felt like it was racing around his body. He took in a long slow, breath. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and he turned to find Harriet watching him intently.
An emotion crossed her face, but it was gone too quickly for him to see. She took a step towards him, and as she did, the sunlight streaming through the window caught on her hair.
It hung around her neck in delicate curls. She had removed her scarf as they had entered the house, and his eyes lingered on the pale skin around her collarbone.
He drank her in, the green dress dazzling in the sunlight, and he smiled, taking a step towards her. He brushed the soft skin of her cheek with his fingertips, moving a lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear.
“You look lovely too.” His voice was husky.
Her eyes went to his lips. The memory of their kiss in the garden filled the room around them. His heart tugged him towards her, but his feet would not obey. He leaned towards her until she was so close that her face was little more than a blur.
There was a knock at the door and Theodore let his hand drop, whirling to face the person in the door. A savage howl boiled up within him and he squashed it down with an effort. He gritted his teeth, wrestling with an anger he had no reason to feel.
“What?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and he shook himself. “I mean, what do you need, Mr. Grimsby?”
Mr. Grimsby bowed low. If he was startled by Theodore’s tone, he gave no indication of it. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”
“Thank you.” Was it Theodore’s imagination or did Harriet sound a little breathless. “Did you need something from us?”
“From His Grace, yes. Mr. Brown has finished his accounts early and asked that you check them. There was an issue at the Moreton farm, something to do with their sheep I believe.” Mr. Grimsby began listing off several things, and Theodore suppressed a sigh, massaging his brow with the tips of his fingers.
You are a duke, you cannot simply indulge your whims whenever you fancy. He forced himself not to look at Harriet as he clasped his hands behind his back. His thumb brushed against the tips of his fingers.
“I should go and check how Phoebe is getting on with unpacking her gifts.” Harriet’s hand moved, her fingers outstretched and for a moment, Theodore thought she was going to squeeze his arm, but instead, her hand moved past him, and combed her fingers through her hair. “Shall we meet you in the garden?”
Theodore nodded. “I will be as swift as I can.”
He glanced at Mr. Grimsby who was standing at attention. Theodore continued, “I trust we can do this as efficiently as possible.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Grimsby nodded. “I have no wish to keep you from your family.”
Your family. The words sent a shiver through Theodore, alarm bells ringing in his mind. He closed his eyes. They are my family. “Good. I told my niece I would walk with her, and I have no intention of letting her down.”
He followed Mr. Grimsby from the room, but as he crossed the threshold, he could not help but look over his shoulder. Harriet was watching him go, her face hidden in shadow.
It took all his effort not to go back to her, and the realization should have made his blood run cold, but it did not. The day was warm and bright, and there would be time enough to worry later.
For now, selfishly, he wanted to enjoy this.
You are treading dangerous ground, Theodore.
He could not tell if the voice was his own or his father’s. For one moment, he did not care.