Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Four weeks, five days, and lying to Thomas until the wedding
‘G ood morning, Alfred… Phoebe!’
Phoebe straightened the moment she heard Thomas’s authoritative tone, and turned her gaze slowly towards their aunt’s pretty breakfast room. Sure enough, their eldest brother was standing between the lemon damask chaise longue and matching curtains, eyeing her muddied riding habit with something between forbearance and disdain.
She clenched her fingers tightly. Of all the people she least wished to see, after spending much of the ride thinking of the person she should least wish to marry, Thomas had to be at the very top.
‘Thomas!’ Phoebe returned, glaringly aware of his spotless frock coat and pantaloons. ‘Fred didn’t say you were coming.’
She swung a gritty smile back at Fred, who was opening and closing his mouth like one of Edward’s toads.
‘Indeed, I didn’t know Thomas was joining us!’ Fred recovered, striding across the room. ‘But they do say May is the month the fashionable set decamp to Bath… Or were the stakes a little deep at Whites last night?’
Thomas broke into a rare smile as his younger brother shook his hand, giving Phoebe a chance to prop herself up on her aunt’s sturdiest chair.
‘Thank you, Alfred, but as I am neither fashionable nor afraid of faro, your theories are wasted on me. I’m actually in town on business, and pleased to find you both together, if a little less so to know the nature of your diversion.’
‘Aunt knew nothing!’ Phoebe returned in a flash, determined to avoid any repercussions. ‘And Fred merely followed to ensure my safe return from the park – I’ve missed the moor,’ she added, on a quieter note.
‘I’m pleased to hear Bath has had a positive effect on your health,’ he returned, unusually buoyant. ‘That was its purpose, after all. But as for missing the moor, well, you will need to develop some fortitude on that front, for I’ve come to confirm details of your happy news!’
He smiled then, and Phoebe realised she’d never really seen him smile properly, at least not in her direction. She stared, feeling the dread she’d been suppressing at her very core start to seep into her veins.
‘Details?’ she murmured, conscious of Fred’s glance.
‘Yes, the Earl of Cumberland and I enjoyed a very beneficial meeting last week, during which we agreed your dowry, your guest list and your personal effects. Everything will be small and in accordance with the earl’s wishes for a low-key affair – he has little taste for society these days – but properly managed. Your betrothal will be placed in the Bath Chronicle and the London Gazette , as well as announced formally, and your wedding will take place at the end of the month. With regard to the formal announcement, and for the sake of ease, I have agreed to a swift presentation at the next Bath Assembly Ball.’ He paused. ‘May I be the first to offer you my felicitations, dear sister. I think Father would be most pleased indeed.’
Thomas’s face then lit up with satisfaction, while Phoebe’s stomach fell like a stone into her boots.
‘But that’s barely three weeks away,’ she whispered, ‘a whole week less … than I thought.’
‘Indeed! Well, the earl was very generous in his praise of you after the Damerel dinner, and when you get to his age, there is little reason to wait, after all. He’s in need of a son to inherit his title, as soon as possible of course, and I’ve assured him you are from excellent Fairfax stock!
Do not let Papa down on this, Phoebe. You are to be a countess, and your sisters will rely on you for introductions and husbands. Do I make myself clear? It is time for you to do your duty.’
Phoebe stared dully at her eldest brother, wishing with all her heart that she were Fred, standing by awkwardly, searching for words to make it better.
But, of course, he couldn’t, Thomas was her legal guardian, and she was but a pawn in the world of men until she grew old and useless.
‘Can I return to Knightswood, until the day?’ she asked quietly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to ride on the moor, while she still could.
‘I think not,’ Thomas returned bluntly. ‘I’ve made arrangements for you and Sophie to attend the Assembly Ball next week in honour of the new King George, where you shall both be presented. I understand most of the haute ton will be there, and I will require you, Alfred, to ensure the Assembly Room patronages talk of no one else.’
‘Capital!’ Fred smiled nervously. ‘There’s nothing I enjoy more than spending time with ambitious mamas! By the time I’m done, not one of them will be in any doubt about the vivacious new countess who will be eclipsing their dull daughters in Almack’s before the month is out!’
He threw Phoebe an anxious smile.
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Thomas returned, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. ‘You will restrict your conversation to the quiet propriety of Phoebe’s upbringing, and the earl’s preference for an unaffected young lady who is not prone to fainting, dramas, or distraction by the politics of the day! Breeding, duty, and family commitment is all he requires, so there will be no more climbing trees, wild swimming, or indeed, riding at dawn! The earl wishes for a quiet life with his new bride, and that is what he shall get. Our family name depends upon it. I trust this is all understood, Phoebe?’
There was a brief silence while Phoebe recalled the morning she left Knightswood in Fred’s clothing, never more certain that there was time for everything.
‘Indeed, brother,’ she returned icily. ‘After all, you have been the very model of brotherly virtue, since you inherited our father’s title.’
The words were out before she could stop them and, briefly, it seemed as though Fred shrank a little.
Thomas’s eyes bulged.
‘I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear, Phoebe,’ he returned, ‘but let me spell it out for you, anyway. You will marry the earl and you will be the obedient wife he wants and you will be grateful for it. My conduct, or the conduct of any of your brothers, is no matter for you. You’re my sister and my ward, and this match was our father’s dying wish, so for once in your life, you will obey me!’
He ground the words out as though engraving them, while a wave of wrath rose within Phoebe. Their father was a quiet, bookish man who’d shown little interest in society or its rules. Why he’d left such a wish in his will, she would never understand, and yet now it was her obligation for life – because of an old promise between two men who didn’t even know her.
‘Have no fear, brother,’ she seethed, ‘I will marry the earl, and do all that is required of me in the name of duty, but do not mistake it for obedience! I will do it to honour Father’s promise – never for you!’
Then she swept from the room with a grace that belied her turmoil, leaving her brothers in silent awe.