Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Nine weeks and one Bath escape until the wedding
‘H arriet was the fiercest I’ve ever known her!’ Sophie confided mischievously. ‘She just hissed at Thomas, and flapped on about you looking pale and needing convalescence and gentle diversion until he looked as though he might just agree to anything! Honestly, Phoebs, she was about as protective as any mama goose could be, without actually popping you under her wing!’
They all started to laugh.
Phoebe gazed around the Fairfax family chaise, which was making light work of the miles to the City of Bath, on this bright spring day. Thankfully the twins, Edward and Henry, had already returned to school, which meant they didn’t have to put up with their amphibious entourage; and while Thomas had read them all the longest lecture about family reputation, and how they were all to be paragons of virtue while staying with their relatives, nothing could dampen Phoebe’s spirits.
Her shoulder, while not fully healed, was feeling a lot more comfortable, there had been only the sparsest of references to her impending nuptials, and she had nine whole weeks to call her own.
Things could most definitely be a lot worse.
‘I wonder if we can persuade Aunt Higglestone to take us to the Assembly Rooms?’ Sophie mused. ‘I remember Mama saying she and Aunt attended no end of Assembly Room gatherings during their season, and that it was the very best place to see – and be seen.’
Aunt Higglestone was a beloved relative who, much against family wishes, had made a scandalous love match with ambitious banker, Horace Higglestone. Yet what Uncle Higglestone lacked in social connections, he more than made up for in dividends, thanks to a long career at one of the most profitable banks in London. Happily, their aunt was not shy in sharing the fruits of his success and this generosity not only helped to redeem herself with the family, but also benefitted her elder sister’s large progeny enormously.
Coincidentally, her aunt’s story also confirmed Phoebe’s growing suspicion that the universe favoured younger siblings as a rule, and she made a silent vow never to elevate the expectations of any child above another, should she ever have the misfortune to find herself a mother.
‘We none of us are out yet, remember?’ Josephine sniffed, her nose buried in a smuggled library edition of Sense and Sensibility .
‘And I expect Aunt Higglestone will have had strict instructions from Thomas to march us directly to the Tap Rooms and back again, without so much as a nod at any ancient Roman ruins!’
Her tone was so indignant they all laughed, but Phoebe had the feeling that Josephine wasn’t far wrong. Thomas considered Aunt Higglestone a safe relative, not only because she was childless – meaning she was ready to lavish all her attention on her marvellous nieces and nephews – but also because she was bourgeois enough not to attract the attention of any of the rakish inset, who could distract or lead them astray.
‘Pooh! You can keep your Assembly Rooms and ancient Roman ruins, I just want to see if there are any extremely naked statues!’ Matilda pronounced, pushing her nose into the air.
‘Matilda Fairfax!’ Sophie remonstrated in a scandalised tone.
‘Well, if you won’t tell me what men are born with…’
‘Even if there are any extremely naked statues,’ Phoebe intervened, feeling the heat of Sophie’s glare, ‘who’s to say if they’re any reliable guide? Most Roman statues are depictions of gods, and there’s nothing godly about any living man I know!’
‘Goodness, Phoebs, you sound just like dear Harriet,’ Sophie laughed.
‘Well, I think we should prevail upon our aunt to take us on as many outings as possible,’ Josephine declared, oblivious to the conversation around her. ‘After all, there’s absolutely no point in going to Bath and not seeing the sights! I, for one, have been reading up on The Old Temple, and where the ancient Romans used to worship the goddess Sulis Minerva , who believe it or not…’
‘I believe it! And there’s absolutely no point, whatsoever,’ Phoebe agreed swiftly, lest her beloved bookworm sister describe every historical sight she’d already bookmarked for their trip.
‘We’ll persuade Aunt to take us to all the important historical sights while we’re there – any extremely naked statues a bonus!’
Matilda giggled as Josephine settled back to her book, leaving only Sophie’s purposeful stare.
‘You wish to see extremely naked statues as well?’ Phoebe quizzed.
‘I was just wondering the same of you?’ Sophie retorted, resting her head back.
‘Happily, I think Josephine has enough historical sights planned to entertain us all,’ she added, a mischievous sparkle creeping into her eyes, ‘I was thinking rather of a certain rakish member of the ton sights.’
Phoebe rolled her eyes to cover the surge of feelings she always felt whenever her sister brought up the viscount. She’d expressed her avid dislike several times since her return, and been vague enough about her stay at Ebcott Place to close the subject forever, but she could tell Sophie wasn’t convinced.
To be fair, neither of them had stayed away from Knightswood without the other before, and there was no denying the viscount had a certain wild attractiveness – when he wasn’t glowering. But there was something more, too, something that had garnered Sophie’s suspicion. It wasn’t the first time her sister had been suspicious, of course – she was born that way – but it was the first time Phoebe couldn’t convince her otherwise. Unlike Thomas, who hadn’t asked any questions about her time away, whatsoever.
Phoebe’s throat tightened as she stared out at the disappearing countryside, thinking of that brief moment in the viscount’s library. It had been such an intimate act for a man who barely knew her, one who most definitely didn’t respect her. And yet it had burned itself into her head, as though she’d never truly been alive before.
How had he made her feel such violent emotion, when she disliked him so intensely? It didn’t make any sense.
And then there was the way he seemed almost to vouch for her, before he left.
‘Miss Fairfax’s courage, when faced with the Somerset Highwaymen, was something to behold indeed. Some may even have called it … heroic…’
‘…and are you even listening?!’ Sophie scowled, dragging her back to the clattering wheels and pale March sunshine.
Phoebe forced a smile.
‘Sorry, I was thinking of Misty.’
It was Sophie’s turn to roll her eyes.
‘There’s no point sighing over a horse you can’t ride, home or away,’ she chastised. ‘And besides, who needs a pony when there may be thoroughbreds in Bath?!’
Phoebe couldn’t help but chuckle.
‘And even if Thomas has written with the strictest chaperone instructions that glue our amiable aunt to us day and night, do you think we might cross paths with more fashionable members of the ton at the Pump Room?’ Sophie added, with a twinkle.
‘Who knows?!’ Phoebe exhaled. ‘From what Harriet said, it will be filled with scheming mamas, their precious unmarried daughters, and ageing bachelors with gout – my speciality!’
‘Actually, there’s an ageing bachelor in my book, Colonel Brandon?’ Josephine sniffed, without looking up. ‘He doesn’t have gout and seems rather lovely.’
‘There are always exceptions,’ Phoebe conceded darkly, ‘but to my mind anyone above forty is counting the days until they’re scented of onions!’
‘In truth, I suspect the fashionable set won’t be looking to spend time with chits from the schoolroom,’ she murmured to Sophie, while the others laughed, ‘and even if one or two do notice us, they won’t number Viscount Damerel! He’s an abominable dandy and far too superior to seek out the company of a few country misses!’
‘He did help you out of a fix, though, Phoebs,’ Sophie cajoled, her eyes narrowing. ‘And it sounds as though your first meeting could have been misconstrued…’
‘ Why else were you listening outside my parlour door? And three sheets to the wind, no less! Confess, if it hadn’t been for Briggs’s infamous cider, your intention was to appropriate…’
The viscount’s words echoed through Phoebe’s head, and she felt her hackles flare instantly.
‘He did what any decent human would do, who found an injured person on the roadside, and wasn’t completely devoid of scruples or moral inclination!’ she snapped. ‘I don’t afford him a hero’s cape because of that!’
‘Colonel Brandon found Marianne in the pouring rain,’ Josephine sniffed, ‘The Dashwoods thought he was pretty heroic.’
‘Well, Viscount Damerel is nothing like Colonel Brandon!’ Phoebe retorted. ‘ And I warrant he only stopped in the first place because there was a roadside audience!’
She coloured faintly, recalling the way the viscount’s swift action had both driven the highwayman away and prevented further injury. Yet he’d also been ready to take advantage of her vulnerability before discovering her identity… Far better her sisters thought him the dubious, dislikable dandy he’d already proven himself to be.
There was a brief silence before Josephine coughed, and then all thoughts of the viscount and the fashionable set were forgotten.
‘Are you warm enough, dearest?’ Sophie frowned anxiously. ‘Do you need another blanket? I do believe Matilda has enough for two shrimps!’
Phoebe watched as Sophie plied their younger sister with gloves, handkerchief, and herbal poultice to inhale, all of which the long-suffering Josephine accepted without complaint. They’d shared care of their sister since Mama passed, and she hadn’t had a lung spasm or infection in two years, which their doctor hailed as a near miracle. The last thing they needed was for Josephine to fall ill while they were in Bath.
‘You know, I do believe the waters will do you the power of good,’ Sophie cooed, tucking the blanket around Josephine with practised ease, while Phoebe quietly assessed her.
Sophie was the undisputed queen of fuss, but she alone had the knack of calming the worst of Josephine’s attacks, which had made her both fortunate and indispensable. Happily, their sister looked a good, healthy colour today.
‘And while you and Phoebe are recuperating, Matilda and I can keep watch for any caped Colonel Brandons – unscented, of course!’
The coach filled with more laughter, as Phoebe settled back to watch the sunlit, springtide hedgerows speed by. Sometimes she wished her sisters a thousand miles away, and sometimes she wasn’t sure she could breathe without them.