Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Afterward, the room was very quiet.
The glow of the fireplace was lower now, casting a soft light around the room.
Phoebe lay on her back, her breathing settling, staring up at the canopy above her bed – because there was nowhere else to look, not while she was so aware of Edward beside her.
Her mind was fixated on everything, the warmth of him, the slight rise and fall of his chest she could see out of the corner of her eye.
He had not moved away. She had half expected him to leave once the deed had been done and the fact that he hadn't was something she was choosing not to question.
Instead, he had settled next to her on his side, leaning against a hand that had been propped up to support his form and somehow she knew he would be too handsome to stare at directly if she chose to look at him then.
His hand moved suddenly and she felt it settle on her hair before she even understood what was happening. He was stroking it, slow and idle, the way one might absently pet a cat. And he did it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Well done,” he commented quietly.
Phoebe blinked without shifting her gaze from the object of her fixation.
She was not entirely sure how to receive that.
The part that had been starved of being seen and acknowledged by others aside from her family for many years felt something warm move through her at the words, a soft, involuntary pleasure she could not quite suppress.
And then there was another part of her, the wary, more watchful part, that was already noting that his statement was the sort of thing one said to someone who had completed a task properly.
In a way, it felt like a stern reminder that what they had done was simply fulfil a clause in their agreement, and nothing more.
She was not sure which feeling she was meant to acknowledge, so she said nothing and remained still.
He seemed content with her decision and his hand continued its slow movement through her hair.
Gradually, she grew aware of the odd pull of his nearness, the particular warmth of lying beside someone when the room had grown cool.
Despite her better judgment, she felt herself settle – felt her body lean toward the solid stability of him.
If he found her too forward or disliked her actions, he did not comment on it. He simply kept his arm around her and let the silence sit like a cloak over them.
After a little while, his voice came quietly into the dark. “Our honeymoon period is nearly over, so we will be attending an event before soon.”
Phoebe looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat uncertainly. “An event?”
“A ball, within the fortnight. I am not one to revel in social gatherings, but it is being hosted by a dear friend of mine – and it would be remise of me not to attend. It will be your first outing as duchess.” He glanced down at her, briefly.
“You will also be permitted to visit your siblings beforehand, if you wish.”
She sat up slightly at this, a bit of relief returning to her at the mention of her family. “Can I really? Would that be all right?”
“If that is what you want, certainly.”
The joy that moved through her at the thought was immediate and she had not realized quite how much she had missed them until it arrived.
She would see get to Anna, and converse deeply with her.
She had been worried that although they had talked about it in depth, Anna still blamed herself for Phoebe’s arrangement.
The duchess hoped she would get a chance to assure her sister that she was doing well and now, if she desired, they could sit across from each other and the time they would spend would carry a single message.
That things were now all right and hopefully would remain so, into the future.
Then the rest of his words dawned on her gradually – the ball and the implications of prancing about so publicly after her sudden and drastic change in social status.
She could already feel the eyes that would be on her, the inevitable scrutiny she would face as Edward's wife before all of society – and the excitement she had begun to feel became somewhat more complicated.
She lay back down, speaking up carefully.
“That is good news.”
Edward, whose observation skills were starting to gain some wariness from her gave Phoebe a look of questioning.
“Both parts of it, or only the one?”
“Both,” she replied curtly, then in a moment of vulnerability caused by the lack of light in the room, the exhaustion in her bones and her shattered defenses, she added. “I am simply uncertain that I am quite ready to be the Duchess of Montford in public.”
Edward paused and the moments that ticked by felt like eons, filling her with unbridled worry that perhaps she had upset him with her words. But when he spoke up finally, he said the most obvious thing.
“You are already the Duchess of Montford.”
“I know.” She allowed her gaze to slide upward, a position she realized a while ago was currently favored because it offered her the most comfort.
“I just… I worry that I do not know how to be her yet. In front of everyone. What if I do not have what it takes and I cause you to be scrutinized as well?”
He did not offer her empty reassurances, which she appreciated, more than she could say. He simply told her, his hand continuing to stroke her hair gently,
“We will cross that bridge when we get there.” And then, a moment later, more quietly, he urged, “Get some sleep, Phoebe.”
There seemed to be no need for her to respond, so she let her eyes close, distantly aware of how nice it felt to be petted like this. After a little while, she fell asleep, with the echoes of her worries fading from her mind.
Anna was already at the cake shop when Phoebe arrived, seated at a small table near the window with her gloves off. Her bright eyes were shining with barely contained excitement, and the moment she caught sight of Phoebe coming through the door she was on her feet.
“Phoebe! My goodness, it feels as though I have not seen you in ages! Oh, you look well,” Anna beamed, taking Phoebe's hands and holding her at arm's length as her fond gaze ran over her sister’s firm.
Then she paused, the fondness melting slightly as an appraising expression took over.
“You look – different. It is not bad – it could never be. But something is – quite different. I cannot believe we have been apart for less than a month and you have already changed!” she remarked
“There is nothing about me that has changed,” Phoebe declared, feeling uneasy about the accusation. “I am exactly as I have always been.”
“You look like a duchess,” Anna stated, as if this settled it, and pulled her into an embrace.
Phoebe hugged her sister tightly and felt, for the first time in several weeks, the relief of being somewhere utterly familiar. Anna smelled of rosewater and biscuits and the particular gentle reassurance of home, and Phoebe closed her eyes for a moment and let herself relish it.
“Sit down. Sit, sit,” Anna urged rapidly, drawing back and returning to her own chair with the professional trait she applied to most pleasant things that stole her interest. “I have already ordered tea. Now. Tell me everything.”
Phoebe chuckled, feeling the guard she wore at her new home wither away to nothing in the face of her sister’s adorable excitement. “There is not as much to tell as you imagine.”
“That,” Anna pointed at her with a stern glare that bore no heat, “Is absolutely false. There is likely much more than that. You have been married to a duke for nearly three weeks now and you sent me two brief letters and none of them mentioned the garden incident. I had to hear about it from Mrs. Forthright, who heard it from her daughter, who is friendly with one of your housemaids.”
Phoebe sighed tiredly, wondering when that particular mishap would no longer be a stain on her existence, not surprised to find that her former neighbour’s daughter had supplied her sister with information she did not need to have.
She had always been particularly wary of that girl.
“The garden incident was nothing serious.”
“You dug up the duke's garden on your third day of marriage.”
“Second day, actually. And I only tried to tidy it. There is a difference. The gardener planted daffodils and tulips side by side, for Christ’s sake. Mother would have a fit if she had been there.”
Anna gave her a look which expressed that she found Phoebe both exasperating and deeply unsurprising. Then she smiled and reached for her sister’s hands, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Well done, Phoebe. I think you have done splendidly to have come this far.”
There it was again, those words that felt like more of a reward than she deserved.
Coming from Anna, it sounded different to her ears and set off a different reaction than when her husband had said it to her.
Now, she was reminded of just how important all of this was, why it was in her best interest to keep the duke’s interest, while also doing what she could to uphold his reputation.
The tea arrived, and with it a small plate of currant cakes, and for a little while they simply sat in the window and talked as they always had – about small things first, the comfortable flow of conversation among sisters.
Rowland was doing well, according to Anna.
Apparently, it had taken him a while to get used to her absence and he kept wandering into rooms and calling for Phoebe, only to realize moments later that she was no longer within the walls of their home.
Anna had been questioned about her sister’s sudden engagement and swift marriage, with many of them in disbelief that Phoebe had been the one who ended up with the duke – a sentiment the duchess could share with them easily. Other than that, her siblings were doing well and missed her terribly.
And then Anna set down her cup.