The Rebel's Return (15 page)

“I fear you are right.”

He closed the barn door and leaned against it, watching her expectantly, a half-smile on his face. Phoebe felt suddenly nervous and flustered.

“I made you a gift.” She opened her cloak and held out the scarves, one in blue and yellow wool, the other in red and black. “This one is for George, and this is for you. I thought they might help keep you warm in this terrible cold.”

“Why Phoebe, I’m honored. You made these?” He took the red and black scarf and unrolled it, then draped it around his neck. “The other men will be so envious, I’ll need to make sure none of them steal it from me. And somehow I’ll make sure this one gets to George.”

Phoebe nodded, her face warm. She repeated the line she had been practicing for the last month. “I made one for George first, and I wanted to make one for you too, because you’re like another brother to me.”

She felt she had delivered her line with reasonable poise and started to breathe easier until she saw a look of surprise cross his face. Then he laughed. Phoebe felt her pink face turn red. Had she said the wrong thing?  What was so funny? She bit her lip and turned away from him, but he was leaning against the barn door and she had nowhere to go.

“A brother?” He was still laughing. “Is that really the way you think of me, Phoebe?”

She found herself annoyed at his laughter and even more annoyed at herself. In spite of her efforts she had made a fool of herself anyway. Of course Nicholas knew she didn’t think of him as a brother. He wasn’t that blind.

“You were the one who said so,” she returned, stepping away from him, but he reached out and caught her hand in his.

“I did? When did I say something like that?”

She remembered the words so clearly she was amazed he could have forgotten. “The last time you were here. You remember. You said you would defend my honor like a gallant brother if Miles ever forgets himself.”

“Oh, that.” The light dawned on his face, and he began to laugh again. “Now I remember. I was—I was actually remarking on something that Edmund Ingram had said to me once. One time when I met him and Miles and his friend Harry Hastings in a tavern.” He seemed very amused by the whole situation, and Phoebe wondered why. For herself, she simply wanted to escape.

“I didn’t know that.” She spoke stiffly, trying to reclaim her dignity. She pulled her hand from his and stepped closer to the door, but Nicholas still wouldn’t move from blocking it.

“So you think of me as another brother.” He seemed determined to prolong the conversation as much as she longed to escape it. “Is that the way you thought of me last August? Or do you kiss all your brothers that way?”

She blushed more deeply at the memory of that day in the woods, but frowned to cover her embarrassment. “Of course not. I was wrong to act that way. But you weren’t exactly behaving like a brother, either.”

“Nay, that I was not,” he admitted cheerfully. “So perhaps you can tell me which you prefer? That day in the woods, or the behavior of a good brother?”

Phoebe tried to pull herself up straight with a look of dignity. “The good brother, of course.”

He laughed as if he disbelieved her and her cheeks burned again. He would never have laughed at Alice that way. “So if I tried to kiss you again, you would slap my face and tell me you never want to see me again.”

She watched him warily, in confusion. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure? Why do you think I asked you to come out here with me?”

She stepped back with a look of indignation and he laughed again. He reached for her arm but she stepped away from him, out of his grasp.

“Of course, that first kiss was before the charming Mr. Quincy came along,” he continued. “Maybe he’s responsible for your change of heart.”

“You know he isn’t.” Phoebe felt a pang of dismay as she recalled Miles Quincy’s proposal. She couldn’t joke about Miles, even with Nicholas. Nicholas leaned down and caught her change of expression.

“Have you two come to a—an understanding?”

“Nay—” Phoebe began. “Aye—we have. I told him he needs to be courting someone else, and now my mother is angry with me.”

“I see.” She stole a look up into his face and saw the laughter disappear as he nodded.  “She wanted you to marry him.”

“Aye, but I couldn’t. He was a good person, kind and decent and—but I didn’t love him. I wouldn’t have been happy. I tried, to make my mother happy, but I knew I wouldn’t have been happy.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I know I did. But he was sad, and I feel bad about that.”

Nicholas smiled again, but this time it was a tender, understanding smile. “You are soft-hearted, Phoebe, and I’m sure you would never deliberately hurt anyone. But Miles will get over it and be happy with someone else.”

“I know.”

“And you,” he added in a softer tone, “you’ll be happy with someone else too.”

She looked up, met his gaze, and lowered her own. She felt her face grow warm.

“I won’t be so vain as to think I made any part of your decision, but I don’t want you to be mistaken about my feelings, Phoebe. I don’t believe you are, but perhaps I should tell you myself.”

She looked up into his face, hardly able to breath. He met her eyes, ducked his head, and seemed to be groping for words. “You have become very important to me, even though I have little to offer now and am not sure when, if ever, I could marry you. I may be killed tomorrow, or next month, or I may be wounded and lose a leg or an arm. It is impossible to know. I expect my father will disinherit me, and although I have a legacy from my grandfather, I may not be rich again for many years. But I do love you, Phoebe, and if that means anything to you, I hope you will be willing to wait for me.”

It was unlikely that Phoebe, who was never the epitome of dignity or self-control in her best moments, should display either trait on such an occasion. She was never sure if he had pulled her close or she had fallen into his arms, but in an instant she was clasped in his embrace, as he followed up the first kiss from the night in the woods with a second, more solemn and tender and full of promise than any before it.

“I should tell you,” he whispered against her hair, as they both paused to catch their breath, “since I’ll never be able to carry you off by force, I decided I should talk to your father. We had a very pleasant conversation last night and he gave me his full blessing.”

So that was the reason for him lingering behind the night before. Phoebe laughed then, the laughter bubbling up from a heart full of bliss and gratitude. “Why, Mr. B!” she exclaimed, “I never thought to hear such words come from your mouth! Are you actually going to turn into a respectable husband after all?”

Nicholas grinned at her, his eyes sparkling and crinkling at the corners in the way she loved. “My sweet, lovely Pamela.” He leaned close to kiss her once again. “Perhaps there are times when virtue is rewarded after all.”