Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Phoebe arrived at the estate feeling rather worn out.
Between the tea and dress shopping with Anna and the meeting with Mr. Lambert, she felt as though she had exhausted her mental faculties completely.
It would be quite nice to simply have the rest of the day to herself — an odd sentiment because she could not recall a time when she had felt tired from merely interacting with others.
The more time passed recently, the more she realized that she was changing. Perhaps Anna had been correct when she pointed that out earlier.
As she entered the foyer of the house, the sound of voices conversing seriously.
She frowned when she recognized Arnold's measured tones, and beneath them, another voice — a woman.
And for a moment, Phoebe was unsure what she should do.
Would it be better to let them resolve whatever the issue was or insert herself as the mistress of house?
Before she could decide, Arnold appeared at the entrance of the drawing room the voices had come from and bowed at the sight of her.
“Your Grace. You have a visitor.”
Phoebe tensed. She had not been expecting anyone and had not recognized the voice she had heard. Cautiously, she approaches the drawing room and walked in after Arnold gave her an encouraging nod.
From behind her, the butler spoke up,
“Your Grace, might I present Lady Barbara Vale, Dowager Countess of Shadborn.”
Phoebe allowed herself to study the elder woman, taking in the elegant posture and self-assured awareness that she exuded confidently.
For some reason, her presence made Phoebe feel as though she should be nervous and perhaps she was because the longer she gazed upon the silver haired woman whose sharp eyes assessed her without remorse, the stronger the inkling she might be in trouble grew.
Phoebe recognized the look on the dowager’s face, as she had received several variations of the same all her life. While she had allowed herself to cover then, she would not do the same now.
Especially not in a place that was meant to be her home.
She walked forward without allowing herself any more hesitation and offered the dowager a curtsy that she did her best to execute perfectly.
“Lady Shadborn, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the duchess smiled, keeping her voice warm. “I apologize sincerely for not having been here to welcome you upon your arrival. I hope you have been made comfortable. Shall I have refreshments brought through?”
The dowager regarded her for a moment with thinly veiled irritation.
“Thank you, but no.” Barbara’s voice was cool and empty. “I do not require refreshments.”
She paused and she regarded Phoebe once more with judgement before she remarked,
“Though, I must wonder, why the duchess was not present in her home, and where might be found on a weekday afternoon, so soon into her marriage.”
“Oh, well — my apologies, again. I had an important appointment to keep. If I had known to expect guests, I would have returned much sooner,” Phoebe replied, keeping her voice pleasant and remorseful.
“An appointment.” The dowager repeated the word dryly as her gaze moved briefly to the door, just in time to see a carrying the pretty, brightly colored boxed that contained the dresses she had bought. “I see. Shopping, was it?”
“Among other things.”
The dowager's expression did not change exactly, but something behind her grey eyes did.
“How fortunate you are,” she tutted, her voice thick with sarcasm.
“To find yourself with such ready access to another's wealth. I had hoped to speak with my nephew about his choice of wife before the wedding. I was not given that opportunity. I cannot help but notice that you are rather… different from what I might have expected.”
“I imagine most things are,” Phoebe nodded patiently.
The dowager studied her once more. “You were a viscount's daughter. Unmarried at five-and-twenty. Scarce means, from what I understand, and no great connections or notable feats that would distinguish you or your family.”
“That is true.”
Barbara made a face, as though the very thought of the summary of Phoebe’s disappointing life was a pill that was difficult to swallow.
“Then you will forgive me if I find myself wondering what it was, precisely, that made you suitable for this position. Because I had intended to assist my nephew in finding a wife — one who might adequately serve the needs of the dukedom in every way, with a reputable family and ideal upbringing. Instead, I find that he has gone and acquired the likes of which should not even be considered. I should have known the moment he placed an advertisement in a newspaper like a man selling a carriage, that this would be the result. And I should have fought harder to keep such a disturbing possibility from happening.”
The silence that followed was quite deafening. And it was then Phoebe realized she was still standing. She had stood, while this woman berated her and judged her in her own home. She could not even find it in herself to be hurt or angry. She simply wanted to sit down.
And so, she did. Silently, she walked over to the settee opposite the one the dowager was in and settled in it, visibly relaxing into the cushion and she thought of what to do next.
“Arnold,” she called and the butler walked back into the drawing room. “Some lemonade and sandwiches for our guest, please.”
With the butler gone, Phoebe faced the dowager head on, finding no fear in her as she met the older woman’s gaze. She had been told much, much worse than the petty attempt Barbara had made to hurl thinly veiled insults at her and she was not going to let it put a damper on her mood.
“I understand your disappointment, Lady Shadborn,” she began, her tone placating. “I know that as his relative, you must have been quite concerned with his decision and the outcome must seem surprising. However, that is hardly any fault of mine.”
Barbara appeared quite discontent with Phoebe’s words and was swift to respond coldly.
“With every passing moment, it becomes even more evident my nephew was not thinking clearly. And I will not support your union.”
“Then perhaps that is something you might raise with him directly. I did not orchestrate the events that led us to this situation —”
“Well said, from the one who benefits the most from this marriage.
Do you believe I do not know your sort? Do you take me for a fool, unable to recognize conniving, ambitious young women who do not care for anyone but themselves?
It is obvious, your hunger for prestige and status and now that you have it, you will ruin the reputation my nephew has worked so hard to build —"
“Aunt Barbara, enough.”
They both turned Edward walked into the room, his gaze narrowed as he took in the room in a single, practiced sweep. It startled Phoebe how quickly his face took on a sharper expression that differed from his usual lax ones.
“Must you create a fuss every time you visit?” He huffed in exasperation.
“I would not do so if you ever bothered to listen to me. I warned you the advertisement would attract unsavory kinds. You did not even invite me to your wedding, neither did you call upon me afterwards. It seems as though you were intent on making the whole situation difficult for us both,” Barbara glared at him.
It was interesting to Phoebe, how both aunt and nephew seemed to bring out a lot of emotions from each other.
“You made it very clear you did not support my intention, so I believed it was in our collective best interest if you were not in attendance at the wedding. And you did not receive a visit or a summon because our honeymoon has only just ended. From the start, the one contributing any difficulties has been you, aunt. And now, here you are, making trouble for my dear wife.” Edward sighed, seemingly growing impatient.
The way he had referred to her made Phoebe feel unexpectedly hot inside.
It was very unexpected, how he had immediately jumped into defending her and the duchess hoped it would not result in any problems between the duke and the dowager.
They were, after all, family and she would hate to be the cause of any rift between them.
Barbara looked positively taken aback and she scoffed in disbelief.
“I am making trouble? You became bedfellows with a woman without a worthy background!”
“Lady Shadborn, lower your voice. Do not speak of my wife that way. You will receive no other warning on the matter.” The duke ordered sternly.
“Can you not see? This woman approached you with nefarious intentions. Do you not understand the danger you have put yourself in? Your resources and honor?” His aunt pressed further.
“It would be rather preposterous to assume so, given that she did not approach me for her sake, but for her family instead.”
At the Duke’s words, the dowager faltered.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked, confusion etched across her features.
Edward sighed deeply, sparing Phoebe a glance before he faced his aunt fully.
“My plan for the advertisement worked. Phoebe had seen it and approached me in hopes that I would marry her younger sister, a debutante she claimed would make an ideal choice. I had no doubts about what she said in terms of her sister’s quality, but I could not overlook the fact that she was better suited to be my duchess.
And when I asked why she was still unmarried, her reason, while logical still made no sense to me.
I was drawn to her selflessness, how she cared deeply for her family, who was going through a social crisis they had been innocently embroiled in.
I made up my mind to marry her but when I went to propose to her, she was reluctant to agree.
She still believed it would be better for her sister and I if I chose her instead.
“Her conduct then; the maturity and practically she had shown then served as proof that would be considerably better suited to the responsibilities of this household than what I had expected to find. She was an invaluable woman that I was sure I would never find elsewhere.”
“Why? Why would you choose her instead of her sister?” Barbara asked slowly, still looking confused.
Phoebe was curious too, because although her husband had given her the practical reasons for his decision, he had not looked this serious or deeply defended his decision in such a way. Then again, he had not needed to do so.
Edward looked at his aunt for a moment. “Because she was not Phoebe. The goodness, sensibility and grace I had seen is unique only to her. I can think of no one better to raise my heir.” His tone was not unkind, but it was entirely final.
“I chose my wife. I am satisfied with that choice. And I would ask, Aunt Barbara, that you treat her accordingly. She is the Duchess of Montford. She is my wife. I will not have her made to feel unwelcome in her own home.”
The dowager was quiet for a moment.
Her eyes moved to Phoebe — and this time the look was different. It still had its sharp, assessing quality, but something had shifted in it. Whatever she saw in Phoebe’s calm posture and gentle demeanor, she felt it was unnecessary to speak on it, instead steadily rising to her feet.
“It seems I have overstayed my welcome, so I will see myself out.” she remarked before she walked to the door.
She lingered at it for a moment, then she turned to look at the windows on the other side of the room.
“You changed the curtains in this room. I have always thought they could do with some new ones.”
Phoebe was not sure if the acknowledgement of her changes was good or bad and she did not get a chance to ask, because the dowager left the room soon after the words were out of her mouth.
Phoebe sat for a moment in the quiet she left behind, exhaling slowly as she gathered her wits that had been ruffled by the unexpected confrontation.
“Are you all right?” Edward asked.
She nodded steadily. “As much as I can be.”
He looked at her for few seconds, then nodded curtly.
“Good. Get some rest. I can see that you have had quite the day.”
Phoebe watched him leave, unsure of what to do with the buzzing sensation his words had left behind.