Authors: Wendy Vella
“Are you alright, Lord Levermarch?”
“Quite alright, Lady Croxley, thank you.”
Before today Finn and Phoebe had been polite to each other, barely conversing unless it was unavoidable. He had not held her in his arms to dance, nor had she fired a verbal attack at him for days, and he missed her. When he’d seen her throw herself at that child this morning his lungs had seized, and when he’d been able to breathe again, all he’d felt was anger that she would take such a risk.
The problem was that he wanted to see the wicked sparkle in her brown eyes again when she looked up at him. Finn suddenly realized that he didn’t want to spend his nights dancing with insipid females who tittered and talked about the latest event. He wanted to be teased and taunted by Phoebe Langley.
She had begun to walk down the stairs and every muscle in his body tightened. She always looked beautiful but tonight she was magnificent, mouth-watering from the tip of her golden brown curls to the soles of her rose evening slippers and every delectable inch in-between.
“Is there a problem, Lady Croxley?” Finn looked down at his dance partner as she made a tsking sound.
“Tis nothing, my lord. I merely made a noise without realizing it, such is my vehement disapproval.”
As she was looking at Phoebe, Finn therefore now had a reason to do so, not that he ever needed any urging.
“You do not like Miss Langley?” he said, noting Lady Croxley’s disapproval.
She walked on Will’s right, while Olivia was on his left. Her pale blue dress seemed to float as she moved and the small train appeared to be embroidered with tiny roses as did the neckline. There was no other adornment. The style, Finn guessed, was relatively simple yet the effect on Phoebe was devastating. The wide neckline came to a V above her breasts which led his eyes to the temptation of what lay beneath. The bodice was fitted and beneath, the skirt fell in a soft, fall of satin to the floor.
“It is not my place to talk about another, my lord. However, Miss Langley’s behavior this season has, I’m afraid, not endeared her to many.”
Dragging his eyes away from Phoebe as she, Will and Livvy reached the bottom step, he looked down at Lady Croxley. She was a pale, unemotional shadow when compared to Phoebe’s vibrancy, lacking in every quarter, and Finn knew, without a doubt, he could not marry her.
“Sh-she hit me one evening, my lord, hard in the face and I am fearful of being in her company now.”
No, Phoebe would never do that. Not the woman who rescued children, and was passionately championed by his brothers. No, he was wrong there. She would do it, but only if she believed it justified.
“I know Miss Langley quite well, as it happens, Lady Croxley, and have found her nature to be sweet, if forthright, on the few occasions we have conversed.” It was a lie, of course, the little witch constantly challenged him. However, he would not tolerate her character blackened by anyone but him, which was a terrifying thought. When had he come to think of her in those terms, as if she belonged to him in some way? He had never been obsessed before, or felt this driving need to possess someone, and he could only imagine it would intensify was he foolish enough to marry her. He was obviously losing his mind. However, Finn had a sinking feeling that it was too late to get it back.
“Forgive me, my lord. I understand your honor would never allow you to cast a slur upon another. However, as someone who will, I hope, feature in your future, I felt it prudent to advise you of her character.”
The music stopped and Finn looked down at the woman in his arms. He had misjudged her; he knew that now. His brothers were right about her nature. Finn knew Lady Croxley’s actions were formed by petty jealously, and now he was really looking at her, he saw she was not the woman she portrayed herself to be. Her face was pinched. Eyes narrowed and filled with spite.
“I have no need of your advice, now or in the future, Lady Croxley. Please remember that. I shall now return you to your mother.”
“I think you misunderstood me, my lord. I would never presume to advise a man such as yourself.”
Finn heard the desperation in her tone but felt only irritation. He didn’t speak again, simply bowing and leading her back to where her mother awaited them.
“She is a shrew with questionable morals, Lord Levermarch! You would be a foolish man indeed to pursue her for anything other than a causal flirtation, and I assure you she has shown herself to be willing in that quarter on many occasions.”
Stopping at the hissed words, he took her arm and turned her to face him.
“It would not be wise to use those words again when speaking of Miss Langley, my lady.” His words were softly spoken, yet she heard the anger in them. “She is a friend and I assure you were her family to hear of your slanderous words, they too would not be pleased.”
“How dare you speak to me in such a manner.”
“Lower your voice,” Finn said. “Or everyone will know your true nature.”
Even though they were surrounded by people, everyone else was immersed in some discussion or other so they cold speak softly.
“I wish she had broken her bloody neck when she fell down those stairs.”
Her face was flushed and ugly in anger, and he saw a wildness in her eyes.
“How do you know about her fall?”
She could not hide her guilt at his accusations. Instead, she tried to flee, which was silly in a crowd of people.
“You pushed her?” Finn grabbed her arm as she attempted to evade him. Steering her through the crowd, he looked for the doorway.
“Wh-where are you taking me?”
Finn was too angry to speak; instead, he worked them across the room until he was at the door. Walking through he then made his way down the hall until he found an empty parlor.
“You,” Finn signaled a servant to his side. “Have Lord Ryder brought here at once and then after you have sent for him, find Lord Croxley and have him directed here also.”
“No!” Lady Croxley tried to evade him but his fingers held her arm in a vice-like grip. Stepping just inside the door, he left it open and stood where he could be seen. He had no wish for anyone to say he had compromised this woman.
“My lord, you have it wrong. I would never—”
“Not one word, my lady,” Finn growled, which made her teeth snap together.
How had he got it so wrong? He’d believed this woman to be the paragon, yet she was not. He had looked only at her façade, believed he had found the perfect woman to become his wife. But it was not her, it was Phoebe. Christ, he was a fool, Finn thought as everything suddenly became startling clear in his head.
“Finn?”
Will walked into the room minutes later. Looking at the hand Finn had wrapped around Lady Croxley’s wrist, he raised a brow.
“Problem?”
“She pushed Phoebe down the stairs.”
The smile fell from Will’s lips.
“Her? Why?”
“Jealously I think, however, she has not given me a reason,” Finn said. He then pushed Lady Croxley into a chair and stood over her. “Care to explain why you attempted to kill Miss Langley, my lady.”
She didn’t answer, lowering her head until her father arrived.
“Levermarch, what’s the meaning of this?”
Croxley was a bluff good-natured man, who had obviously spoilt his daughter atrociously. Finn almost felt sorry for him as Will began to explain why he had been summoned.
Finn stayed in the room until Will no longer needed him. He then left before the gossips noticed all of them missing. Finn knew Will would seek retribution on Phoebe’s behalf, and he had every right to do so as her brother-in-law. However, one day soon it would be Finn’s right to protect her; he vowed.
He made his way through the throng of guests seeking his brothers, when a voice reached him.
“Finn, lord, what a crush!”
“Hello, Olivia, Phoebe,” Finn said facing them.
“My lord,” she murmured, looking everywhere but at him. It had been Olivia who called to him, not her.
His hand shot out before he could control it. “May I have this dance?”
“I-I would rather—”
“Please,” Finn said softly.
She nodded, her eyes still not meeting his, and let Finn lead her to the floor for the first waltz of the evening.
“I wanted to tell you that what you did today was very brave, Phoebe.”
“Thank you, but I know my actions angered you.”
“No,” he amended. “I was terrified when I realized what you had done, and what could have happened.”
She huffed and turned her face from his.
“Why do you think we are like this we each other?” Finn said.
“Because you are everything that a person in society should be and I am not, my lord.”
“You make me sound like a pompous ass, Phoebe.”
She shot him a brief smile that softened her face and made her eyes twinkle. Finn nearly missed a step as he realized it was the first smile she had given him in weeks.
“If the ass fits, my lord—”
He laughed loudly, and it felt good.
“If I say I have missed your verbal barbs, will you fire a few at me?”
She was thinking because the frown line appeared, and Finn realized that he’d spent so much time observing her that he knew this was a trait of hers.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, my lord. I think we are better suited to avoiding each.
“Let’s try for a truce then, Phoebe. We can be near each other and that includes dancing, but you will refrain from wild gestures in my presence and I shall refrain from making rash judgments of your character.”
She studied him and then nodded.
“It will make Will happy as he cares for us both.”
“And making Will happy is important to you, Phoebe?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
She felt right in his arms, their steps in perfect harmony as they made their way down the room. Her scent teased him, her body made his ache and he realized she was the one he wanted, so why was he fighting it. She would challenge him, torment him, but Finn knew there could be no other woman in his life but her. However, the middle of a crowded ballroom was not the time to discuss it.
“Have you learnt many tricks?”
“Tricks?” She looked up at him as she had many times and Finn felt something stir in his chest and hoped like hell it wasn’t his heart, because loving her would only add to his torment.
“Riding tricks, Phoebe.”
“Perhaps it is too early in the truce for this conversation, my lord, especially after my use of one this morning. Therefore, I shall instead say that I like your brothers very much.”
Finn looked across the room to find the twins and could only see the top of Ben’s head and the hand he appeared to be gesturing enthusiastically with.
“They’re yours if you want them. I can have the papers drawn up in the morning.”
Her laugh was spontaneous and made his lips tilt in response.
“Oh, please don’t try to fool me, Lord Levermarch. Anyone can see you are very proud, and care for them a great deal.”
Finn leaned forward until his lips brushed her ear.
“And if you tell anyone, I will deny it with my last breath.”
Her laugh was husky and Finn, who had until now believed flirting a waste of time, thought he may have to revise that opinion, as flirting with Miss Phoebe Langley was a heady experience.
“Let them know.”
“Pardon?” Finn bent forward again sure he had misheard her words. He was caught and held in the depths of her brown eyes as she looked at him.
“Make sure they know you love them, Finn. It’s important because it’s what will get them through the bad times as well as the good.”
Finn ran his hand once up and down her spine. The gesture was to comfort, as for some reason she had tensed in his arms and with so many people watching he could do nothing more. Did she know she had used his first name?
“They know, Phoebe. I promise you that they know how much they mean to me.”
She held his gaze for several seconds and then lowered her eyes once more.
“Good, because s-sometimes you need to call on things like that.”
Finn wasn’t sure what she was alluding to, but he knew to her mind it was serious. Was she talking about the death of her parents?
Finn nodded to an elderly couple as they danced by as his mind thought about what the woman in his arms had suffered. Will had told him a little, that her mother had died in a carriage accident and the father had followed. He knew the youngest Langley was injured in the accident and that they had struggled to survive for a few years with no support from anyone. According to Will, they had survived on their wits.
“Did you need to call on it, Phoebe?”