Authors: Wendy Vella
“How dare you speak to me in that manner! Why, I’ll have you know that my father is disgusted that Miss Wooller—”
Sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and this was one of those sometimes, Phoebe decided as she watched Lady Croxley open her mouth to launch another attack on Miss Wooller. Swinging her hand, Phoebe slapped one pale cheek. The noise echoed around the small room and everyone but she and Miss Wooller gasped.
“Now, you listen to me you spoilt, pampered witch. Neither Miss Wooller nor I have any further wish to converse with you or your minions; therefore, you will take yourself out of this room, or I will make the other cheek match that one,” Phoebe said, glaring at Lady Croxley who was clutching her face and staring at her like she had two heads and five eyes. “And if I hear one more word about either myself or Miss Wooller out of your poisonous mouth, I will have to tell the Duke and Duchess of Rossetter about your less than stellar behavior.”
“You’ll be sorry you did that!” Lady Croxley cried.
“I’m only sorry I didn’t clench my fingers into a fist,” Phoebe muttered as the three women scurried across the room and out the door without saying another word, slamming it behind them.
“Do you think she will remain silent?”
“I have grave doubts; however, it is her word against mine and I do have a duke and duchess and a couple of lords up my sleeve should I need them,” Phoebe drawled as she once again looked at Miss Wooller.
Her black hair was piled high and pinned in place with a single diamond clip that exposed the slender line of her neck and enhanced the delicate curve of her jaw and cheekbones, she had the beautiful pale skin of a porcelain doll and looked as though she would blow away in a puff of wind.
“The problem is I do stink of trade, and equally horrifying is that I don’t care a fig about that fact.”
“I’m not sure I follow?” Phoebe said as she accompanied Miss Wooller back to her seat and took the one next to her.
“My father was in trade before he received his title and I’m afraid one never quite loses the taint,” she said by way of explanation.
“It’s funny because my brother-in-law also runs a business yet he seems to get away with it,” Phoebe mused. “Perhaps because his brother is a duke?”
“He’s from an established family with a very long line of noblemen at his heels, Miss Langley, and therein lies the difference between him and my father.”
“Perhaps you have the right of it, Miss Wooller. One thing is quite certain, however; we are both destined to be different from the vast array of simpering, insipid madams who we are in competition with,” Phoebe stated. “I find it hard to conform to what is expected of me at such occasions and must admit that my forthright speech can sometimes get me in trouble.”
Phoebe was subjected to a thorough examination by an intelligent pair of green eyes.
“If you’ll pardon me saying so, Miss Langley, I should imagine it’s your beauty that puts you at odds with people, especially women.”
“Perhaps, but there are plenty of beautiful women here this season; you included, Miss Wooller.”
“Thank you. However, your beauty is in your poise and confidence as well as your looks, Miss Langley. The combination, I assure you, is devastating.”
“Not my wit or intelligence, Miss Wooller? I’m devastated.”
Phoebe thought this woman was a lot like her youngest sister, Bella. Sweet-natured and gentle and happy to stay in the shadows, yet there was spirit there when one took the trouble to look.
The silence that filled the room was not uncomfortable, and then Miss Wooller sighed.
“My cross to bear is that I am too old to be a debutante, thus I am termed an old maid and should be happy with my position on the shelf.”
“But you are not?”
She smoothed the skirts of her ivory silk dress over her thighs before speaking.
“I am happy to be there, however my father is not. It is his fondest wish that if I cannot convince the King to wed me, then a Duke will do. It is because of him that I am here every night putting up with the silly conversations and equally silly men. It would destroy him to hear that in fact I loathe these outings. Therefore, I keep up the façade.”
“You’re far too beautiful to be on the shelf, Miss Wooller,” Phoebe said, meaning every word. “And I will add that I have gnashed my teeth many an evening watching you glide, with not a hair out of place, around the ballroom. Elegant and graceful, I believe one man called you.”
“My name is Hannah and I would be honored if you called me by it,” she said as she brushed aside Phoebe’s words with an elegant flick of her wrist. “You should see me sit a horse. Hopeless,” she added, shuddering.
“And I am Phoebe,” she said, holding out her hand which Hannah took in her own. “And riding is the one thing I truly excel at.”
“I’m good with clothing,” Hannah said softly. “In fact, I excel at fashion.
“Are you really?” Phoebe looked at her more closely. “Because I, too, am rather skilled in that direction. Actually, I used to make all our dresses before we came to London.”
Hannah looked excited by Phoebe’s comments; however, Phoebe couldn’t believe she had actually said them. No one knew how poor the Langley sisters had once been. “I’m not sure why I told you that.”
“I won’t tell.” Hannah waved her hand about. “But tell me more of your styles. Where did you get your material and trimmings from and how did you come up with your designs?”
“We had a copy of La Belle Assemblee and Bella, my sister, was my model and will tell you to this day that she still has pin holes in her person.”
“How wonderful that she shared your passion.”
As usual, when she thought about her little sister she felt a stab of pain in her heart.
“You look sad suddenly, Phoebe. Is everything all right?”
Phoebe nodded at the softly spoken words.
“Our mother was killed in the same accident that injured Bella’s leg and Father’s arm. He did not live long after and she suffers every day.”
“I’m sorry.”
Looking at Hannah, Phoebe wondered what it was about her that made her want to confide. She may be outspoken on many things but she rarely shared her intimate thoughts or feelings with anyone other than family.
“I’m not sure why I’m telling you all these things, Hannah, as usually I’m not one for confidences.”
“It’s nice, though, don’t you think, to talk without fear that what we say will appear on everyone’s lips tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Phoebe said softly. “Very nice.”
“Is there anything to be done for your sister’s leg?”
“We learned of a clinic in Scotland that may be able to help her and our brother-in-law has arranged for her to go there in a few months.”
Hannah placed one hand on hers. “And you worry that it may not help her.”
“Yes.”
Phoebe did not know how long she sat with Hannah in that small room—thirty minutes; perhaps an hour maybe less—and she had never enjoyed an evening more. They talked no more of families, instead focusing on fashion, and talking with someone who had the same passion was a joy.
“Do you enjoy society, Phoebe?” Hannah said when they paused to draw breath.
“I have to admit that I had built up my first season in my dreams to be something wonderful, and in truth the reality is far from that,” Phoebe sighed. “There are so many fools masquerading as gentlemen. Don’t you think, Hannah?”
“Absolutely, and the women are foolish, too. I told Father just this morning, when he wanted me to attend a book reading salon with Lady Hindle, that I had had more informative conversations with the scullery maid than I did with some of the woman in society.”
Phoebe laughed at her despondent expression. “What did he say?”
“That the scullery maid did not have a brother who was a duke.”
Phoebe laughed again. “As much as I would like to stay here in this room for the remainder of the evening, Hannah, I fear my sister and brother-in-law will grow worried if I do not return.”
“Lord and Lady Ryder are lovely people, Phoebe. I talked to them over the supper table one evening. They’re very much in love, aren’t they?” Hannah added with a sigh.
“Very much so.
“I don’t think I want that.”
“What?” Phoebe’s brow wrinkled as she looked at Hannah.
“To give someone so much of myself that if he chose to, he could destroy me.”
“One day I want it.” Phoebe’s words were almost defiant. “But I will be certain the man is the right one before I commit to him.”
“Phoebe, I want to ask you one more thing before we return to the ballroom and your many admirers, who I am sure are probably distraught at your continuing absence.”
“Stop belaboring the point, Hannah, if you please.”
Hannah didn’t giggle, she snuffled, which made Phoebe smile as the sound was at odds with her elegant appearance. She sounded like a puppy.
“I have always actively involved myself in my father’s businesses; however, lately I have decided to start one of my own.”
“Don’t let Lady Croxley hear you speak that way.”
“I’m hoping that one day it is I or we who shall have the last laugh on her. With your help, that is.”
“I’m intrigued, Hannah. Tell me more.”
“I will, but I’d rather show you. Will you meet me
tomorrow at midday.” Rising to her feet, Hannah waited for Phoebe to do the same.
“And you will give me no clue as to what I am to see?”
“It would be easier to show you.”
“I think that’s cruel of you to leave me hanging.”
“Yet still I will remain tight-lipped until then.”
It was then that Phoebe noted the stubborn thrust of Hannah’s jaw.
“You may look angelic but you’re not, are you, Miss Wooller.”
“I have no idea what you mean, Miss Langley.”
Phoebe laughed. She liked this woman very much.
“Behind that sweet face are many secrets, it seems.”
“We all have secrets, Phoebe.”
Phoebe didn’t add to that, as she certainly had her fair share.
“I will send round a note to you in the morning with details of where we are to meet.”
“It’s all very secretive, Hannah, and I have to say I’m intrigued.”
“Excellent. I feel a long friendship ahead of us, Phoebe, and let me say until tonight I did not think that amongst these people, that would be possible.”
“I second that in all aspects,” Phoebe’s step felt lighter as she followed her new friend from the room.
“Thank you, Hannah. I enjoyed our talk very much.”
They exchanged smiles, and with a quick squeeze of their hands they went to find their families as they entered the ballroom.
CHAPTER THREE
Finn believed in routine. It kept him focused and ensured his life ran smoothly. He rose early every day, even the morning after a late, restless night spent dreaming of a certain woman in various passionate positions, and rode in the park.
Letting Titus have his head, he galloped over the dew-drenched grass and soon felt the last of the cobwebs inside his head clear.
He’d danced with Lady Croxley last night, and every time he was in her company he felt more assured that she would make him an ideal wife. She was calm and composed. He’d never heard her raise her voice and she was never outspoken, unlike some. She came from an excellent family and would be a steadying influence on the twins.
Finn liked to make lists, and had done just that for his future wife. It was tucked away where no one could find it, but he’d pulled it out last night and Lady Croxley had met all his requirements. On a whim, he had run Phoebe through the list and found she met only one, which only confirmed what he already knew. He was physically attracted to her, but she would make him a terrible wife.
He rode hard for a while as his mind processed thoughts, worked through plans for the future and those he had set for the next few days. When he was sure Titus had run enough, he pulled him to a walk and relaxed the reins, giving them both time to regain their breath.
The park was empty except for the two men who were here most mornings doing tricks on horseback. He’d wondered if they were from a traveling show, or The Royal Amphitheatre? It was entertaining to watch them climb under their horses’ necks and pick up things off the ground while cantering. This morning, one man was leading the other’s horse in a circle while the other was standing on the horse’s back.