Robert gave a dramatic sigh. “I'm ready to hang myself, just to break the boredom.”
“I'm sure your hanging would greatly enliven the evening,” Meredith said in a tart voice. “Enough nonsense, Robert. I'd like to hear how the new Lord Merritt is faring with his estate. I believe you have quite a mountain of work ahead of you, do you not, Lucas?”
Now Lucas had to repress a sigh. The state of his holdings was another topic he'd rather avoid, but he couldn't be rude to Meredith. If Silverton had asked the question, he would have rebuffed him, but Meredith had treated him with nothing but warmth and generosity from the day he'd met her.
“I'm sorry to say the home farms are in a deplorable state, which is my greatest concern. The house needs significant repair, and the stable looks ready to collapse any minute, as does the dairy. The orchards are in better condition, which is the only blessing in the lot.”
Phoebe listened to him with eager concentration. “The estate in Kent is quite large, is it not?”
“Large enough. There is also a small hunting lodge in Lincolnshire, but Mistletoe Manor is the primary seat of the earldom.”
Phoebe scrunched up her nose. “Mistletoe Manor? It's lovely, but rather an odd name.”
“You have no idea.” Whichever ancestor had applied that demented label to the once-dignified Elizabethan manor deserved to be whipped. The name was bad enough, Lucas mused, but the manor staffâmost of them descended from families who had served the Merritts for generationsâcherished a bizarre obsession with everything the name implied. Why, even the housekeeperâ
Robert's laugh interrupted his gloomy thoughts. “I'd forgotten about that. From what Grandfather told me, the Merritts make quite a fuss about Christmas, do they not? All Yule logs and boar's head and Lord of Misrule, if I'm not mistaken.” He winked at Lucas. “I suppose I know where we'll all be spending the holiday, ain't that right, Belle?”
Annabel rolled her eyes at her husband. “Not unless we're invited, and I certainly can't imagine why Lucas would want to invite
you
.”
“I would love to see the manor, Lucas,” Phoebe broke in, her eyes shining. “I would be so happy to see where my mother grew up.”
Lucas smiled. Phoebe would see Mistletoe Manor soon enough, but not until he had it in decent enough shape that it wouldn't instantly frighten her off. She needed time to get used to what he had planned for her, and taking her to a broken-down estate didn't enter into those plans.
“Belfield Abbey is only a short distance from Mistletoe Manor,” Meredith said. “I'm sure something can be arranged after we settle in.”
Lucas shot her a frown. “Phoebe is going to Belfield Abbey for the holidays?”
“Everybody is,” said Annabel. “At least for part of the time. Isn't that right, Meredith?”
“Yes,” Meredith replied, watching Lucas carefully. “There will be plenty of opportunities to visit, if you will have us.”
Their gazes locked, and an uncomfortable silence fell over their group. Lucas could feel his jaw twitch, but he fought to keep his face impassive. Christ! The entire family camped out at Belfield Abbey for weeks, right on his bloody doorstep? It was bad enough he had to grapple with all the problems foisted on him by his dilapidated inheritance. Now he would also be expected to dance attendance at every inane holiday gathering
and
put up with Silverton to boot.
Phoebe reached over and touched his hand. “Forgive me. I had no right to ask for an invitation in so rude a manner. You have many pressing matters to attend to on the estate, and I will be happy to wait until you are ready to receive guests.” She smiled, but her dark eyes held a wounded dignity.
Lucas mentally winced. Phoebe was the last person he wanted to feel bad about this. Aunt Georgie and Meredith and all the other interfering women in his family were up to something with their Christmas plans, and he didn't like it. He wagered Silverton would be equally annoyed.
As if his thoughts had conjured up the devil himself, Silverton's voice broke in. “This looks to be a very lively group,” he said in a sardonic voice.
Annabel plastered a bright smile on her face. “We were discussing Christmas plans, and how much fun it will be to visit Mistletoe Manor while we're all down at the abbey.”
“Yes, won't it just,” Silverton replied in his most bored voice.
Meredith flashed her husband a look that could slice through stone, and even Lucas had to feel a degree of sympathy for him. But he ignored the unwelcome emotion and focused on Phoebe. “Of course you must visit,” he said, taking her hand. “You must regard Mistletoe Manor as much your home as it is mine. You will always be welcome there.”
She earnestly searched his face, then cast her gaze to their still-joined hands. “Thank you,” she murmured in a shy voice.
Silverton muttered something under his breath. Ignoring him, Lucas released Phoebe's hand and rose to his feet. “Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I must pay my respects to my aunt and uncle.” He smiled down at Phoebe. “I'll speak with you again before I leave, all right?”
She nodded, but her gaze flicked warily between him and Silverton.
He turned and glanced at his cousin, who studied him with an alert, suspicious gaze. Scowling, Lucas brushed past him and strode away.
Chapter 8
Clearly eager to escape a lecture from his wife, Cousin Stephen murmured an apology before dragging Robert off to the other side of the drawing room. Phoebe could not help noticing he made a wide berth around Lucas, casting him a dark glance.
Lucas was equally to blame for the ridiculous male feud, but Phoebe could never stay angry with him for long. And he
had
overcome his loathing of Stanton family events to appear at her modest debut. She was grateful for his support, and for the fact that he never seemed to care about her dress or her manner of speech. Lucas listened to herâreally listenedâand made her think her opinions mattered.
But tonight he
did
seem to care about her appearance. In fact, when their gazes first met, he had looked at her in a way that scorched the air between them, robbing her of breath and heating her from the inside out. She had not expected his reaction, and it had turned her brain to mush and muddled her insides with an unfamiliar, shivery sort of feeling.
But then Cousin Stephen had approached and Lucas's eyes had taken on the flat, gray cast of a winter sky. A cold facade had snapped into place, and he retreated into the persona of the arrogant aristocrat. That version of Lucas chilled her to the marrow, and she knew with depressing certainty that his animosity for Cousin Stephen held a greater sway over his emotions than anything he might feel for her. His precipitous escape confirmed that.
Meredith muttered a surprisingly rude oath as she glared daggers at her husband's retreating back. Phoebe blinked in surprise, while Annabel let out a laugh.
“That certainly says it all,” Annabel finally managed. “I suppose I was foolish to hope that Silverton and Lucas might be trying to patch things up.”
Meredith sighed. “If anything, it's worse. Perhaps it's because they can no longer avoid each other. Before Lucas returned to England, they could pretend the other didn't exist.”
“It's just too ridiculous,” Annabel huffed. “Grown men acting like children, and on such an important night, too.”
“Oh, no,” Phoebe protested. “Everything has been perfectly. . .” she trailed off, unable to lie.
“Exactly,” Meredith replied. “We know how gruesome it must be for you to be caught in the middle. You can be sure my husband will receive a piece of my mind when we return home. If only there was someone to do the same to Lucas.”
“I think the situation is much more upsetting for my aunt and uncle,” Phoebe said. “As for someone talking to Lucas, I do not think it would do any good. Uncle Arthur tried to discuss it with him just the other day. Lucas did not take it well.”
Not well
was an understatement. Phoebe had been reading quietly in the corner of the library while her uncle and Lucas were discussing new farming techniques. When Uncle Arthur had suggested that Lucas consult with Silverton, who had already implemented some of the new techniques at Belfield Abbey, Lucas had snapped at him. A sharp exchange followed, with the older man exhorting his nephew to stop acting the fool. Lucas's expression had grown cold and haughty. Barely holding his temper in check, he had clipped out a terse apology and excused himself from the room. Pausing briefly as he passed her, he had brushed a gentle hand across her cheek but then turned and stalked out. Her uncle had flicked a glance at her, then shrugged and returned to his correspondence.
Yet another example of Lucas's contradictory behavior, the episode had left her shaken. She knew him to be a kind and gentle man, but the anger that flared all too quickly when he was crossed troubled her. Perhaps it was a legacy of his soldiering days, and she worried that it had become an indelible and disturbing part of his character.
Meredith studied her. “Perhaps it depends on the person speaking to him. With the General, I can imagine how that conversation played out. But have you spoken to him about it, Phoebe? I suspect he might listen to you.”
Surprise jolted her. “Why would you ever think that?”
“It's obvious Lucas wants you to think well of him. From what I've observed, he goes out of his way to please you, which is not something I've seen him do with a woman before other than Aunt Georgina.” Meredith's eyes twinkled. “And I'm quite certain Lucas's feelings for you are very different from the ones he holds for our aunt.”
Annabel nodded. “That's what Grandmamma told me, too. She said he's very protective of you, and even on short notice I can see he likes you very much.”
Phoebe's heart gave a hard thump, and her gaze involuntarily jumped across the room to where Lucas talked with his aunt. As she studied his commanding figure, so handsome in his severely elegant evening attire, a sudden pang of longing tightened her chest. He had become so familiar in such a short period of time that she could barely imagine a world without him. How in heaven's name had she allowed that to happen?
As if she had tapped him on the shoulder, he glanced over, raising his eyebrows in a questioning arch. Her breath caught as a lazy smile curled up the corners of his mouth, and her body flushed with a heat that made her squirm.
Phoebe clenched her jaw. She distrusted that disconcerting heat. Surely no properly modest woman should feel that way, especially toward a man whose intentions were unclear.
Yanking her gaze away, she found Meredith and Annabel exchanging satisfied glances.
“Told you,” Meredith said to her sister.
Phoebe's heart sank. “Told her what?”
“We'll talk about it later, when we have more privacy. But we must return to our present topic of conversation, which is how to resolve the estrangement between Silverton and Lucas.”
“Is that what we were doing?” Phoebe asked cautiously.
“Of course,” Annabel piped in. “Grandmamma says the silly situation has gone on long enough. Everyone in the family is heartily sick of it.”
“I can certainly understand that, but how has the situation changed?” Phoebe asked.
“Nothing has changed between
them
, so the rest of us have to change the circumstances,” said Meredith. “That's why we're all going to Belfield Abbey for Christmas. The more we throw Lucas and Silverton together, the greater the chance they'll reconcile.”
“Or perhaps murder each other,” Annabel said cheerfully. “Either way, at least the problem will be solved.”
Phoebe grimaced. “Unfortunately, murder would appear to be the likelier outcome.”
Meredith's eyes crinkled with amusement. “I do believe there's cause for hope. Silverton has confessed to growing weary of the estrangement, and I think he would be relieved to see it end.”
Surprised, Phoebe raised her eyebrows. “Did he actually tell you that?”
“Well, not at first,” Meredith said, “but with a little promptingâ”
Annabel snorted. “I can well imagine the type of prompting you employed. The bedroom type, no doubt.”
“Whatever works, dear. I'm sure you've resorted to similar measures, on occasion.”
Phoebe blushed. For two such refined women, Meredith and Annabel could be remarkably candid when discussing the private relations between men and women. She did not really mind, though. Despite her embarrassment, she found such honesty refreshing. Not to mention those conversations provided her with information she sorely lacked.
“In any event,” Meredith continued, “Silverton eventually confided that he was tired of the fighting. He even confessed to regretting some of the things he said to Lucas all those years ago. I was astounded, since he rarely admits fault.”
“Just like a man,” Annabel murmured.
Doubtful, Phoebe shook her head. “I still do not understand how the family removing to Belfield Abbey for Christmas will solve the problem. Will not Lucas simply retreat to his estate? You cannot force him to be with us.”
When Meredith and Annabel exchanged another of their knowing glances, Phoebe had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Whatever it is, please tell me and get it over with.”
Meredith eyed her before answering. “Well, dear, if Lucas wants to see you, then he'll have to come to Belfield Abbey.”
Phoebe wrinkled her brow, then enlightenment struck with blinding force. “Absolutely not,” she said emphatically. “You are quite mistaken, I assure you.”
Meredith tilted her head to study her. “About what, dear?” she asked in a deceptively mild voice.
“About whatever it is you believe might be happening between me and Cousin Lucas. He does not have any feelings for me beyond what is entirely appropriate.”
Whatever
that
meant. When it came to Lucas, Phoebe could no longer be sure how they were supposed to feel about each other. From the beginning, her grandfather's letter had influenced every aspect of their relationship, even though neither of them had spoken of it past that first day. But how could she ever be sure of anything Lucas said to her regarding matters of the heart, knowing the burden Grandfather had imposed on him? What the Stantons perceived as affection could, in reality, be nothing more than a debt of honor promised to a dying man.
Frustrated, she tried to explain. “Even if he did return myâ”
When Annabel beamed an encouraging smile, Phoebe almost choked on her unthinking admission.
“âwhich he does not,” she continued grimly, “I still fail to see what that has to do with Cousin Stephen.”
“Because if Lucas were to be happily married, then he would no longer have any reason to hold on to his anger,” Meredith replied. “My husband is getting close to putting the past behind him. He's happy now, you see, and that's made it hard for him to hold on to the grudges of the past, even one that runs as deep as this one.” Her eyes went soft and misty. “The twins had much to do with that, of course. Neither of us ever thought we could be this happy.”
Phoebe stared at Meredith, and saw a contented joy that made her chest ache. Would she ever experience such happiness in her own life? Could Lucas ever love her the way Cousin Stephen clearly loved Meredith?
Annabel picked up the conversation. “If Lucas married you, then he would be happy, too, and realize it was a waste of energy to continue feuding with Silverton.” She gave an excited little bounce in her seat. “Really, it makes perfect sense. Grandmamma is brilliant to have come up with such an excellent scheme.”
Aghast, Phoebe stared at them. Their logic was so incredibly flawed it made her head spin. “Does everyone in the family think that way?” she finally managed in a faint voice.
Meredith squeezed her hand. “There's no need to be embarrassed. The men don't have a clue. Once it became clear how Lucas felt about youâand that happened much sooner than we anticipatedâAunt Georgie and I discussed the situation. Then we told Annabel. That, however, is as far as it goes. You needn't worry anyone else will ever find out.”
“But I have no true idea how Lucas feels about me,” Phoebe burst out in a voice louder than she intended. And, truthfully, she was not entirely sure how
she
felt about him. So much about him mystified her.
Meredith cast a swift glance around the room. “Hush, dear. It was foolish of me to raise the issue tonight in such company. Forgive me. I let my irritation with those silly men get the best of me.”
Striving for calm, Phoebe nodded. As upsetting as the discussion was, it stemmed from the best of intentions. The Stantons loved Lucas and they had already come to love her, as they had assured her of so often. They only wanted Lucas to be happy and they wanted peace in the family. Laudable goals. If only they knew how unrealistic they were.
Annabel gave her a sympathetic grimace. “You needn't worry. Nobody will try to make you do anything you don't want to do. It's just that . . .” Her words trailed off.
“What?” Phoebe asked.
“Don't you want to get married some day? Have a family of your own?”
Frowning, Phoebe stared down at her lap. In the last few days, she had actually allowed herself to imagine what life with Lucas might be like. How she would be safe and secure with him. The appeal of that image pulled at her with an irresistible yearning that grew stronger every time she saw him.
But then she thought of everything that stood between themâher grandfather's deathbed pleas, their differing backgrounds and beliefs in lifeâand doubt rose up in a swamping wave.
“I . . . I cannot say,” she stammered. Irritated, she firmed her voice. “It matters not. Lucas has given no indication of his true feelings for me, and I have not yet decided whether I will remain in England or return to America in the spring.”
Annabel opened her mouth, but Meredith gave her sister a warning look. Then she rose to her feet, urging Phoebe up, too. “Come, dear. I know Lady Bellingham would like to speak to you. If she's awake, that is.”
Grateful for the retreat, Phoebe took her arm. As Meredith chattered amiable social nonsense, Phoebe wrestled her turmoil into a quiet space in her mind. Later, in the privacy of her bedroom, she would unpack her feelings and examine them. For now she owed it to her family to behave with appropriate consideration for the occasion.