CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Phoebe slowly woke up. The moving carriage made her want to stay asleep, but Mrs. Dove-Lyon was talking to her. “My dear, we are almost to your destination.”
Rubbing her eyes and sitting up straight, she moved the window curtain aside and looked out at a dark London. “What time do you think it is?”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon leaned forward, moved her curtain, and looked out the door window as she sat closest to the door. “Perhaps midnight. There are quite a few carriages and people milling about.”
The carriage stopped, and Phoebe strained to see outside the door window. Confused, she said, “Why are we at Hudson Hall?”
“Your Grace thought it was best that you didn’t return to Greenwich House. You will be staying here as Lady Julia Harris’s guest.”
“But . . .” The rest of her words were caught in her throat along with a surge of unshed tears. Perhaps her sudden emotions were due to exhaustion from her ordeal? Still, she sensed that Mrs. Dove-Lyon wasn’t revealing everything.
“The duke will explain everything to you.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon patted her hand.
Speaking of the duke, he opened the carriage door, leaned in, and extended his hand to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “See to Miss Windham, Your Grace. I will be going to the Lyon’s Den now.”
Phoebe took Oliver’s hand and stepped down from the coach. When they both reached the sidewalk, Oliver nodded and said, “Thank you for coming and attending to Miss Windham.”
“Just looking out for my girl,” she replied.
“Thank you,” Phoebe said as tears rolled down her cheeks. “For everything.”
“Just doing what I was hired to do.” They stood and watched the carriage until it turned a corner. She couldn’t see her face because of the black veil, but Phoebe would swear the lady was crying.
A cough drew their attention to the Runner on horseback. “I will leave you now, Weston and Miss Windham. A pleasure.”
“Thank you, Burns. I could never have found Miss Windham without you,” Oliver said as he inclined his head.
“Thank you, Mr. Burns,” Phoebe said. The lump of tears in her throat felt worse than before.
“Shall we?” Oliver said, indicating the staircase. She swept up her skirts and climbed the stairs to the landing where Oliver knocked. The butler opened the door.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” he said. Lord Hudson and Lady Julia are waiting for your arrival in the drawing room. Shall I announce you?”
“No need, Weatherby.”
She was surprised when Oliver took her hand in his, and they silently walked up the staircase.
As they approached the closed doors of the drawing room, Oliver paused and turned to her.
“Please forgive me,” he said as he took her other hand into his, holding both of them.
His turbulent brown eyes met hers, and it worried her.
“I have made arrangements for you to stay here as Lady Julia’s guest. You need not worry about anything. ”
Phoebe’s chest and lungs hurt. She could hardly breathe.
“We will discuss the future in due time. After everything that has happened recently, I’m wondering if marrying you is the right thing to do. I’m torn and need time to think. Forgive me. You will be safe and taken care of here.” He left without a backward glance.
How could he? She fell to her knees, dropped her head into her hands, and fought the urge to scream at the top of her lungs.
Instead, she allowed the tears to flow freely.
He just left her, like discarded baggage, in the middle of the night.
With people she hardly knew? Saying he needed time to think.
Her heart broke into pieces. She had given herself to him completely. Body, heart, and soul.
The sound of a slamming door, then footfalls hurrying up the staircase continued until a pair of dirty boots stopped in front of her knees.
Recognition was instantaneous—he’d come back.
The air was suspended in her lungs. Her eyes closed as she was too afraid to look up.
Afraid to see his face and be broken again.
His hands curled around her upper arms as he gently lifted her into his arms. She wrapped hers around his waist and held on tight, her legs feeling like a rag dolls.
His entire body trembled as he groaned into her hair, “I don’t care about the curse or believe in it.
If you die, I die. I love you so much that the thought of being separated from you for another minute would kill me.
We belong together. I will love you until the end of time.
Nothing will take you away from me. Please, please, please forgive me and marry me? ”
“Yes. Please don’t scare me like that ever again. I love you so much I can’t bear to be without you.”
Wrapped up in each other’s arms and crying tears of joy, Phoebe knew from that day onward, she would never be alone or without someone to love or be loved by. As the most kind, loyal, and considerate man she had ever known promised to love her until the end of time.