It was odd, butoddwas not the same asmurderer of hundreds.
“The Duke served his country,” Phoebe told her sister, hoping to get this conversation on the appropriate track. She didn’t think her father was right in all this, but the reason he was wrong wasn’t because of the Duke’s war record. “I daresay we should be grateful for that service.”
Hannah shot Phoebe a betrayed look.
“But,” Phoebe went on, “that doesn’t mean you can marry her off to some man she’s never met, Father.”
Lord Turner was unperturbed. “On the contrary,” he said simply, “I cannot marryyouoff to a man you’ve never met, Phoebe, and more’s the pity that I allowed you to achieve your majority without me doing so. I shan’t be making the same mistake with your sister.”
Hannah let out a strangled sound of protest. As well she should, Phoebe thought with a pang of regret. It was hideously unfair.
“Father,” she tried again, but he cut her off before she could get much further.
“Enough,” he snapped. “This is what is happening. We are on our way there, now, to get to know the Duke. He requested that the whole family come, and we willnotdisappoint him.”
Her father used his most rigid tone. He wouldn’t waver on this. No, he’d been unhelpfully clever about the whole thing, not letting them have any information until they were already on the way, ensuring that the sisters didn’t have a chance to try to maneuver around him. Phoebe did so hate it when her father was smart.
He continued, clearly irritated. “Besides, I do not understand why you are whining about this, Hannah. You will be a duchess. It’s an enviable position.”
“Not if hemurdersme!” Hannah wailed.
Phoebe frowned. This was unusually histrionic, even for her sister, who was prone to flights of fancy. Or perhaps it was just that it was an unusual audience; Hannah usually kept her tongue around their father as she knew he hated anything that smacked of emotional excess.
And while Phoebe was an expert at exasperating their father, that meant that she had the experience to know that this was very much not the place or time to press him.
“He’s a soldier, not a murderer,” she reminded her sister, hoping to bring some small measure of rationality to this moment.
“That’s easy for you to say!” Hannah snapped back.
This was… fair. Not necessarily helpful but fair.
“It is,” Phoebe agreed, using the tone that she would have used with a skittish animal, “but aside from his military service, have you ever heard anything negative about the Duke? He is a bit distant, yes, but it’s not an inherently bad quality. Plenty of people prefer the country to the city.”
“Boring people,” Hannah muttered irritably, crossing her arms in front of herself defensively.
Phoebe was having averyhard time keeping her patience.
“Hannah,” she said. “Can you just meet him before passing judgment?”
Phoebe did feel like abitof a hypocrite in asking this because, realistically, she would be downrightfuriousif her father had been trying to pass her off on some random man, duke or not. But this was different. Phoebe didn’t intend to marry at all, but Hannah did. The younger Turner sister had persevered through two grueling London Seasons, but she hadn’t yet made her match.
Or she hadn’t until tonight if their father had anything to say about it.
Phoebe was miserably aware of the bouncing carriage beneath them, each turn of the wheels on this wretched, pothole-riddled road bringing them closer to what seemed certain to spell disaster.
And here she was, the one arguing for decorum and tolerance. Tolerance toward aman.She cursed her father for putting her in this position.
Phoebe didn’t care very much about decorum or propriety, but Hannah did. Her younger sister was generally introverted, and her willful streak was usually overshadowed by her tendency toward obedience, at least where their father was concerned. If Hannah put up a fuss and the Duke of Redcliff spread the word that the younger Miss Turner was a harridan—or worse, the kind of woman who broke her promises—Phoebe knew that Hannah would regret it.
And protecting Hannah was the one thing that Phoebe did best.
“It isn’tfair,” Hannah cried again. “This isn’t even because of me. It’s because of Phoebe!”
This was true, and Phoebe hated that it was true, but she also felt more than a little stung that Hannah was lashing out when Phoebe was trying to be an ally.
“Why can’t you make Phoebe marry him?” Hannah asked their father petulantly.
“She’s old,” their father responded. It was somehow even more biting because he hadn’t meant it to be cruel.
