Chapter 2 #2
Waiting was difficult, but she forced herself to remain still, not wanting to seem even more suspicious than she undoubtedly did, by the time they returned to her with a verdict. After what felt like ages, the door opened and in walked in a man different from the one she had met earlier.
“Is this she?” he asked, regarding her with a dull expression.
Phoebe’s spine stiffened and she forced herself to stand still, realizing only a second after she had opened her mouth that he was not speaking to her.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler replied as he stepped in.
The duke was silent for a moment, then he nodded. “Well, I suppose the least I could do is listen to her plight, given the fact that it seems to have warranted quite a bit of mystery. Leave us, Arnold.”
The butler bowed and exited the room, which suddenly struck Phoebe with a hint of worry, as she was now alone with a man she did not know – a flaw in her plan she had clearly failed to think through.
“You are being far too bold, Miss. It is one thing to have come without a chaperone, but to arrive in the middle of the night at the house of an unmarried man? You could have gotten us both into a scandal. Whatever you wish to say had better be worth the risk you have taken on both our behalf,” he remarked, looking unimpressed.
“My apologies for... everything, Your Grace. For showing up unannounced, at such an hour as well. I am a spinster, and as such, I have not found myself in need of a chaperone for quite some time,” she explained hastily, hoping he would understand.
“I see,” he nodded curtly. “Well, it’s just us two, now. Surely it is safe to lower your hood. It would not benefit me in anyway to expose the fact that this meeting took place anyway.”
Phoebe knew he was right, so she did as he requested, gently pulling back the hood of her cloak, her body tensing in mild anticipation for the usual reaction she received from strangers upon their first look at her face.
But he did not give her the satisfaction she expected as a result of her preparedness. He simply stared directly at her, his heavy gaze unflinching as it gave her a single, curious glance from her head to her toes.
“That’s better. You may continue,” the duke prompted, gesturing to her.
She hesitated, a little surprised at his calm reaction. Still, she refused to be deterred, raising her chin as she told him,
“I would like to apologize once more, for the sudden visit. It simply could not wait. You see, Your Grace... I am here because of the advertisement of your need for a wife. I believe I have the perfect candidate for you.”
Edward could not help but feel intrigued by her words.
Everything about the current circumstance was quite strange – from the hour the woman had shown up, to her nervous demeanour. He had expected her to confess that she had heard assassination plans against his life or something as dire as that.
To think that the matter was about his advertisement... Edward had not even realized it had been published yet. He had only told his aunt about it in an effort to warn her ahead and Mr Lambert had told him to expect the news to be publicized in about two days during meeting yesterday.
Even if it had come out already, he had not expected to receive such an immediate response.
“Is that so?” he mused out of curiosity.
The young woman before him nodded vigorously, clearly of the belief that she held the only thing that could satisfy his desires.
“Yes, Your Grace. I believe my sister; Anna Danvers would be an ideal match for you. She is kind, obedient, and quite smart, as well. She is the youngest of our household, so she understands the value of family greatly, as our elder brother and I have ensured that we instilled familial ideals in her. I personally saw to it that she was given a basic education the etiquette and she is very dependable, as she is respectful, Your Grace.” She told him earnestly.
After hearing all of that, Edward could not help but stare at her blankly.
He had not expected that at all. Contrary to what he had told his aunt, he had expected to do the job of weeding out less than suitable candidates himself.
He imagined many women would arrive at his dwelling, claiming to be a wife beyond his dreams, ready to do whatever he desired.
Edward never thought to expect a woman who would come to plead on behalf of another.
“She sounds exceptional,” he told the mysterious woman before him, unsure of what more to say. “How old is she?”
“Nineteen, Your Grace.” The dedicated sister replied, seemingly relieved that he had shown some interest.
Edward nodded, trying to feign interest. “And does she have any talents?”
“Well... she is quite adept at needlework and she has a lovely voice. Her pianoforte skills however... I believe she could certainly improve on them. We all have more room to grow,” the lady said, looking bashful for a moment.
The reaction, paired with the slow spread of pink across her cheeks struck Edward in a strange way. He discovered he liked this look on her, satisfied to know that despite the calm and impassive expression she wore, there was more to her.
“What is your name?”
“Phoebe, Your Grace. Phoebe Danvers,” she nodded curtly.
“Miss Danvers, why are you not married?” he queried, curious as he walked to the fire place in a bid to busy himself, rather than indulge in the urge to stare at her.
She blinked, her lips parting and snapping shut more than once, as though she kept rethinking the words that were about to roll of her tongue.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but... is there perhaps something wrong with your vision?”
Edward chuckled at the strange question, turning back to face her. “Not that I know of.”
“Can you not see my scar?” she asked quietly.
Phoebe tilted her head to the right, giving him a good view of the scar on her right cheek.
He could see it fine from where he stood, but he had not been so intrigued by someone in so long.
He did not think it was such a serious thing either, and could not fathom why it was keeping her from getting married.
Edward approached her slowly, his steps careful and deliberate.
Once he was only a feet away, he could smell her – the scent in the air sweet and spicy still, like a cinnamon tart.
She piqued his curiosity greatly, and he couldn’t help but wonder who this woman truly was, determined to get to the root of her selfless core.
Because he had reduced the distance between them, the scar was more visible, but still, it did not seem so serious as to keep her from finding a good man to spend the rest of her life with.
Edward shifted his gaze to hers, expecting to find it lowered, but pleasantly surprised to find her staring right at him.
Although she appeared calm and collected, a glance downward exposed her nervously clenching her hands into tight fists.
Edward nodded and took a step back. “I’m afraid that I do not see the reason why this would have cost you the chance to be wed and start a family of your own. Are you perhaps ashamed of the scar?”
“No,” she told him, her eyes blazing fiercely with an emotion he could not name. “I do not think it serves as a sign of shame, neither do I hold it against those who do. I have simply come to the understanding that there are somethings we cannot control, no matter how much we wish otherwise.”
“That sounds like a rather meek excuse for giving up,” he replied earnestly as he made his way back to her.
As he stood before her again, Edward felt pleased when she met his stare head on without, even more so when she replied,
“I do not think of it like that. To me, it was merely a nudge to shift my priorities elsewhere. If I cannot marry and have a family of my own, I should do everything in my power to care for the family I have now. My brother and sister… the ones I have known my whole life deserve much better than the cards they have been dealt. And if this is all I can do – serve as the bridge between them and a better life, then I will do it to the best of my ability, rather than dwell on the past.”
Her words were rather impressive, honestly. As was her face.
Because he had only intended to look at her scar earlier, Edward had not allowed himself to notice much else, but now, his eyes wandered without his permission.
They stared at the long lashes that trembled as she held his gaze without hesitation, traveled down the slope of her small nose, rested upon her rosy red lips.
The scar barely took away from her very apparent beauty, and he still could not fathom why no one else thought of that.
Neither did he understand the strange sensation fluttering in his chest as her eyes glanced between his own.
“Remarkable,” he mumbled, unsure of why he had said so as he stood straighter.
He stepped to the side, then walked around her once, letting his eyes take in the rest of her form , before he came to a stop in front of her.
“All right. You have convinced me. I shall visit your home tomorrow with a proposal.” He informed her curtly.
“You will?” she asked, her expression betraying the first clear display of emotion – hope.
“I am a man of my word, Miss Danvers. A man is only as strong and as honourable as his word. I have nothing to gain by lying to you.”
She nodded, her form still tense, as though she could not let herself relax just yet.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I will take my leave now.”
Edward stepped out of her way calmly and gestured to the door and she curtsied, thanked him away and bid him good night. When he was alone once more, Edward shook his head and smirked.
“No, Miss Danvers. Thank you.”